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i-am-still-bb · 11 months

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No. 22

“They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.” | Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | "Watch out!"

Alt. No. 8

Hunting

Pairing: Fili/Kili or Fili & Kili Rating: T Words: 2,917

Warnings: Zombies, guns, profanity

A/N: How did this get so long?? Currently listening to a zombie anthology which explains the subject matter.

None of the original prompts sparked anything. So I picked an alternate prompt. And then some of the original prompts sparked inspiration.

Fili hadn’t known that the end of the world would be televised. He had never thought that he would watch the implosion of governments on TikTok on his phone while hiding in his basement listening to the roar of planes overhead.

But it was.

And he had.

Or it was until there was no more cell service. That was when he got scared.

“Hurry up, Fili. We need to get moving.”

Fili nodded, but he did not verbally respond to Thorin’s order. There were no more requests, no more “could you’s.” Everything that needed doing was important and time sensitive. Fili was fiddling with an old GPS that Thorin had in his storage unit.

“You are such a pack rat,” Dis had admonished when Thorin pulled up the metal door that squealed loudly. The storage unit was large, but organized—Bilbo took credit for that—and they were able to quickly sort through and find what they needed.

Winter Gear? ✔ Camping Equipment? ✔ GPS? ✔ Any other old electronics? ✔ Paper maps? ✔ Tools? ✔

The thing was that the GPS unit had not only been stored away because it was obsolete once everyone had smartphones, it had not be entirely functional anymore. And sitting in storage for over a decade had not improved its capabilities and functionality. They were currently traveling using paper maps that were at least 30-40 years out of date and Bilbo’s sense of direction. They were all crammed into a cargo van that Dwalin had used to haul equipment to gigs back when music was a thing that most people had time for. They also had a trailer. Between the two they had stored a lot of things they thought they needed or might need in the future and they had place for the five (hopefully soon to be six) of them to sleep on inflatable camping pads.

It was slow going for many reasons.

The highways were full of stopped cars. Sometimes cars had just been abandoned on the highway. Sometimes only one lane was open and everyone who still had gas to put in a car seemed to be trying to get to the same places.

So they were using narrow, barely two lane county roads most of the time. These were better, but not by much. Cars were still abandoned. Farming equipment could also be blocking these roads along with herds of cattle who had escaped from their enclosures. These roads also had a tendency not to connect all the way through. The road would dead end for a mile only to pick up again. But it was impossible to drive for a mile through the torn up fields. So they had to detour, hope that seemingly straight roads were actually straight, and try to return to their original road.

If it had been winter they could have tried driving across the fields. Frozen earth would support the weight of the van and trailer, but the rough terrain may have done significant damage to their vehicles. But as it was, those were not options that they had to weigh. It was spring. The fields were often muddy swamps that were barely traversable by tractor. Ditches were overflowing. Sometimes roads were impassable due to flooding.

“At least we don’t have to worry about having enough to drink,” Bilbo had offered when Thorin had started cursing the incessant rain.

Thorin had scowled.

But now they had reached an impasse. Thorin’s knowledge could take them no further. The relevant map had gotten soaked by coffee and torn. The roads were now all blurry smears.

So they needed the GPS working.

Now.

Fili felt the pressure not just from those around him, but from within himself as well.

Kili had a habit of not listening and not doing as he was told.

The last communication they had with Kili was over a week ago now. They had been rationing an allotted amount of gasoline in the generator and they had called Kili on the two-way radio that Fili and Kili had left over from their childhood. Kili was told to stay put. To not leave his dorm room unless necessary. The building had a kitchen, bathrooms, exterior doors that locked when closed and you had to have a key to get inside.

But Kili never listened.

That’s how he had broken his arm when he was 6 and his foot when he was 15.

Fili was hoping that for just one time Kili would stay where he belonged. Safe.

What Dwalin was working on kept making clicking metal noises that was driving Fili to distraction. “Can you not?” he snapped, looking up from the GPS unit and his tiny soldering kit.

“No.” Dwalin’s voice was firm with no inflection. And he continued cleaning the guns.

That was the other thing.

There were guns everywhere.

And there were people with those guns.

People who were jumpy, scared, and didn’t know what they were doing. And, more dangerously, were those that were jumpy, scared, and did know what they were doing.

The trailer they were hauling had enough guns and ammunition to power a small militia.

Fili had always hated guns. He had friends who did 4H for the shooting sports and they had wanted him to join. They went deer hunting and drank alcohol pilfered from their parents in thermos. Fili declined. They went to gun ranges and rented guns that you could not legally own and that was their idea of a good time.

Fili would much rather stay at home and build model kits, tinker with electronics, and work on little things that Kili told him he should get patented.

And now guns were everywhere.

But for good reason.

The RN2a virus was that reason.

Scientists were working on a vaccine, but right now there was not much hope. So far the only known infection routes involved direct contact between an infected persons’ bodily fluids and your own mucosal membranes (eyes, nose, mouth, etc.) New information was being released and retracted on a near daily basis. No one was taking their chances.

You could recover from the disease, but having it did not give you immunity. There were people who had it 7 times before it killed them. The disease was not the worst part, nor was the death, it was the “reanimation” that came afterwards.

Those that had been reanimated had already been given a variety of nicknames—Zombies (obviously), biters, the undead—and then there were the more politically correct terms like—infected, afflicted, and reanimated. The news very carefully did not say what they had been reanimated from. They were always careful to talk around the whole “dead come back to life” bit. But everyone knew it. Most people by now had known someone who had succumbed to the disease.

It had started slowly. That was why Kili had still started college like he had been planning before the pandemic started. It grew slowly for over a year, with there being scattered reports of the dead coming back to life (and it being a symbol of the End Times), and then it had exploded in recent months. It hadn’t felt like the end of the world at first. It just felt like a bad flu season, then it felt like COVID all over again with “work from home” and “shelter in place” orders popping up everywhere. Fili returned to his part-time job of delivering groceries just like he had during COVID when he had been finishing up his senior year of high school online.

“We need to move on and find a better place to set up for the night,” Thorin said. “Do you think you can finish this in the van?”

“It moves too much,” Fili replied tersely. “I’ll probably damage it when we hit a pothole or swerve to avoid hitting another fucking deer.”

“It’ll have to wait until tomorrow then.” Dwalin’s voice had a sharp edge and everyone looked at him. Then they all saw the forms moving near the distant tree line.

—

Kili looked out the window of his dorm room into the green space that was sheltered on three sides by the building. A pine tree blocked a lot of the view, but also kept them from being seen.

“Do you think they’re still coming?” Ori asked.

“They wouldn’t just leave us here.” Kili scratched at some dried acrylic paint on the windowsill, remnants of a previous student’s art project.

“I don’t think they’d leave us here,” Ori said defensively. “Just that they got held up. Or something happened.”

“Something did happen. The power went out. And the radios died. That’s all that happened.”

Ori did not say anything more. He looked back at the pages of the book he was reading. The first thing Ori did when it looked like things were getting bad again and like they might all be told to stay in their dorm rooms for weeks on end was go to the library and check out a massive pile of books. Ori caught a clump of pages under his fingernails and ran them up and down. He had been on this one page of a thriller (probably not the best choice) for over thirty minutes now.

“Do you think we should do something?” Kili asked suddenly.

“Like?”

“Like make our way to them? Maybe we’ll run into them on the way.” Kili started pacing the length of the room from the windows, past the desk to the door and back with a detour for the space between their beds.

“And maybe we wouldn’t run into each other. We’d miss each other by a mile and then that would be it unless we both got the radios working again at the same time and were within range of each other.”

Kili grunted. And he kept pacing. And chewing at his fingernails.

“Stop,” Ori said without looking up from the book again, even though he was just staring at the weird shapes that the negative spaces made by the words.

Kili looked up, “Stop what?”

“All of it.”

—

The brick buildings of the college finally appeared. It had taken them over a week to travel what they normally traveled in an afternoon. The town surrounding the college appeared to by empty. There were the same abandoned cars, but there was also random items like trash bins, jackets, single shoes, backpacks, and such littering the road.

Thorin drove slowly. His knuckles white.

Bilbo reached over and put a hand over one of Thorin’s. Nobody said anything.

Fili wanted to jump out of the van right now and charge up to Kili’s dorm, pound on the door, and demand to be let in. He was getting the feeling that nobody was going to be there waiting for them. And the silence in the van told him that he was not the only one with these dark thoughts.

Dis stared out the window and worried her fingers.

“We’ll find him,” Fili said quietly when he took one of her hands in his own.

“I hope so,” Dis whispered.

—

They finally found a place to park that had a decently clear path forward if they had to exit in a hurry, which was always a possibility.

“Do you remember where he was living?” Dwalin asked, stuffing a gun into the waistband of his jeans. This question was directed at Fili. Dis and Bilbo had been charged with staying with the van. They were to keep it running and ready. Thorin had pressed a small but powerful glock into Bilbo’s hands.

“I’m pretty sure it was the one on the other side of the hill.”

“Pretty sure?”

“We didn’t move him this year!” Fili snapped. “I still remember where he lived last year. I know his campus mailing address, but that is no good because it would take us to the main student union!”

“We don’t have time for bickering,” Dwalin interrupted before Thorin could respond. “We need to get moving and get away from the city center.

“Here,” Dwalin held a gun out to Fili.

Fili held up hands, shaking his head, “No. I don’t even know how—”

Dwalin did not drop the hand that held the heavy black metal and plastic object. “You hold it with one hand, steady it with the other, keep both eyes open when you aim, squeeze—don’t pull—the trigger.”

Fili shook his head again.

“Take it or you’re staying with your mother,” Thorin snapped. His eyes were scanning the trees and buildings of the campus looking for any signs of Biters or of students or faculty.

Fili took a deep breath and took the gun. It was heavier than he expected. Following Dwalin and Thorin he was overly aware of the gun’s weight in his hand, it kept pulling his attention when he needed to be focusing on far more important things.

“Are you sure it was them?”

“Ori,” Kili said, stuffing another item into his backpack. “We practically grew up in the van. I would recognize it anywhere.”

Kili slung a duffle bag over his shoulder and then shrugged on his backpack. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his keys from the dresser even though it was likely that he would never use that brass colored key to open the door to his dorm ever again. “I saw them turn left towards the sporting fields.”

Ori shut the door behind them with a click.

—

Dwalin flung an arm out, stopping Fili in his tracks. He had been distracted by the unfamiliar weight of the weapon in his hand.

“Biters.”

Thorin’s gun made a small sound when he turned the safety off.

“Where,” Fili wanted to ask. But silence was one of their best protections. He scanned the trees that were just starting to turn green and the red brick buildings hoping to spot them.

“Kili,” he breathed.

“Fuck,” Dwalin swore at the same time.

“What is he doing?”

And then Fili saw the Biters, not fifty yards from Fili and Ori.

Kili grinned when he spotted them and started waving his arms.

Thorin made a harsh arm motion, trying to get Kili to stop.

But it was too late. The Biters had seen them.

“Goddammit,” Dwalin bit out. And he started to run, sprinting across the open green to close the distance between them, Kili and Ori, and the Biters. He squeezed off a few shots while running, but none of them hit their mark. But the noise did draw the Biters' attention away from Kili and Ori who had both frozen in place when they saw the Biters.

There were at least seven Biters.

Dwalin ducked behind the low wall surrounding a decorative fountain. Thorin and Fili followed suit.

“Get over here!” Thorin roared.

Kili and Ori started running. Their bags bounced heavily on their backs. Ori was falling behind until Kili slowed and took a bag from him.

Fili wanted to shout at him, to curse, “Just get over here,” he gritted under his breath. His fingers were cramping where they were wrapped around the now warm metal of the gun. “Come on, Kili.”

Thorin and Dwalin fired off a few more rounds, but this time it did not draw all of the Biters’ focus. Two of them had broken away from the group and were going to cut Kili and Ori off before they reached the fountain.

And then Kili fell.

Fili leapt over the wall before he could even consider the possible consequences.

He could smell the Biters. He could see their red rimmed eyes. Their ragged breathing was loud, whistling.

He was not going to make it to Kili in time.

Fili stopped. Planted his feet shoulders width apart. Ori brushed past him at a run. Raised both of his arms, his left hand cradling the butt of the gun and steadying his right hand. Kili was pushing himself to his feet, eyes fixed on the Biters who were quickly closing the distance. Fili leveled his gaze, both eyes open, the sight was centered on the Biter closest to Kili.

A breathe.

And a squeeze.

Fili did not think about the things he thought he would think if he had to kill a Biter. He always thought he would think about who they had been, who they could be again if the disease could be reversed. His mind was blank. Then he fixed the sight on the second Biter. Another squeeze. And another bloody hole in a human body that stopped moving for the last time.

Fili seized Kili’s hand and together they ran for the shelter of the wall and the protection of the group.

“Are you okay?” Fili asked as soon as they were seated behind the wall, chests heaving with exertion and relief.

Kili nodded. “I think so.”

“What were you thinking? We were coming to get you?”

“I was going crazy looking at the walls of that room.”

“Impatient,” Fili shook his head. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“I didn’t know if I’d see you again,” Kili admitted quietly. Fili could barely hear him over the sound of a few more gunshots from Thorin and Dwalin.

“And now you’re going to see me so much that you’re going to get sick of me,” Fili teased. “The van and that trailer are really cramped, and with two more people…”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be sick of you.”

“Good.”

Kili leaned his head on Fili’s shoulder. And for a moment of silence, things felt like they were all right.

Taglist Everything: @silvermoon-scrolls @metztliluaa-blog @i-am-pinkie Fili/Kili: @dubhlachen

#whumptober2023 #no. 22 #lyrics #Watch out!#alt. no. 8 #hunting #the hobbit #fic #zombies #pandemic #bb writes #fili/kili #fiki #or fili & kili if you want to read it that way

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raynaissance · 1 year

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The rebirth of "Rebirth"

The spirit of Renaissance — French word for “rebirth”, blossomed in Europe from the 14th to the 17th century. It was a testament to the incredible capability of human creativity and innovation. It was a time of flourishing art, groundbreaking scientific discovery, and renewed curiosity about the world and its antiquities.

But how, you might ask, do we embrace the 500-year-old spirit and mindset to the settings of the 21st century? Believe it or not, it is not that difficult, actually.

The pursuit of knowledge

Shakespeare once wrote, “knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.” The Renaissance was a time of intense intellectual passion, a period where knowledge was revered and sought after. It is possibly applicable for our modern times to indulge ourselves in the thirst for learning. Delve into books, attend lectures (both online and in real life, whichever that are easily accessible to you), and never cease to question everything that you encounter in your everyday life.

Pen your mark in history

Inspired by the wordsmiths of the old, do take up the art of writing. Embark on a journey with your pen (or any choice of stationary, for that matter) and a piece of paper, just the three of you against the rest of the world (damn, how cool is that?!). Whether it’s journaling your thoughts, crafting poetry about that crush you don’t have the courage to talk to, or start working on that novel that once you dreamt about in your high school years, just let your inner artist shines. Your words will take you a long way, you just don’t know (or realize) that yet. ;)

Create and innovate

The Renaissance was an age of innovation and exploration. Seriously, they were vigorous creative thinkers and innovators back then. I mean, who on God’s green earth would think of a flying machine with a propeller system in the 15th century? Yeah, I know, it’s not the time anymore to innovate things such as helicopters or lightbulbs (yeah, no shit, Sherlock). Instead, sketch something, grab some paint and rub it on some canvas, sculpt a chunk of Play-doh or something. Whatever you do, let your imagination run wild. And I do mean WILD wild. Wild as in that 15th-century flying machine.

You’re a human, be one

Humanism was one of the cornerstones of the Renaissance spirit. They celebrated human potential, and on top of that, empathy. You know, the world is not so bad. Yes, of course, there are some ignorant spawns of satan roaming out there, for sure. Yet, you possess the power to shape the world as how you like it. Remember, society is made up of people, and people are made up of persons. Extend kindness, engage in meaningful conversations (especially with strangers), and stand up for justice, act fair even from the realms of your mind. Further note: meaningful conversations are not always about “heavy” stuff, like academic discussion or something. It includes simple gestures like asking that barista from your regular local coffee shop, “How was your day?”. Trust me, it will make them feel better, make you feel better, and it goes a long way.

=====

Built upon the best minds in the history of human civilization, the era of the Renaissance was filled with timeless insights that are still relevant as ever, even in our modern world today. It is quite an incredible opportunity for us to explore their marks in history and embark on the journey to rediscover the Renaissance spirit and embrace its essence to enhance our modern lives.

I get it, it wouldn’t be that simple. Yet, at least we know what we are trying to achieve. And even though you can only grow 0.1% each day, in a year, you will reach a growth rate of 36.5%. That’s more than a third of what you are today.

=====

I supposed that this would be your first encounter with this page. That’s okay. Readers, meet Ray. Ray, meet readers. We are no strangers anymore, are we?

I aim to explore and indulge myself in the spirit of the Renaissance, and also encourage you so that together we shall embrace the spirit for our modern lives, for the advancement of our civilization, and for an eternal pursuit of Enlightenment.

If my topics and my mission resonate with who you are, then I cordially invite you to join me on this journey. You can also find me on Instagram, where I am posting stuff about Renaissance works and inspirations.

May the spirit of the Renaissance guide your path, and may your future endeavors, whatever it is, be as timeless as the artistry of that wondrous age.

Until next time, ciao!

Ray

#renaissance #neorenaissance #philosophy #academia #dark academia #blog #journey #art #history #writing #exploration

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luckyrave · 2 years

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Chainsaw Man Chapter 111 Thoughts

A huge realization came to me upon going through this specific chapter, and it’s actually not a huge thing relevant to the story. What exactly could that be, you might ask? To put it simply, there are only 8 chapters left before I’m fully caught up on my thoughts for the manga. I literally went from the double digits range throughout these past 4-5 day to the single digit range, and that couldn’t honestly get me even more excited to continue sharing my thoughts on the manga for Chainsaw Man.

Asa wastes absolutely no time beating around the bush with Yuko, and asks she is gonna devour her. Not an ounce of hesitation lasts for her best friend to provide Asa with an answer that makes Yuko look away ashamed by her answer, but it also leaves Asa rather stunned as well. The reason Yuko came to visit Asa in the middle of the night was because she was gonna leave to be with her distant relative in hopes of trying to be human again. In saying so, Yuko wouldn’t be surprised if her fate also ended up in death at the end of the road. It’s here Asa apologizes to Yuko for making a contract with the Justice Devil for her sake, but it’s revealed that wasn’t the exact truth.

Yuko made a contract with the Justice Devil to be like Chainsaw Man as a way to get attention while using Asa as an excuse, but also having hopes it would make Asa her friend due to the simple fact that she never had any friends. Killing her neighbor and attacking people at The Academy. None of it was for the sake of justice. Many peoples thoughts creeped into her mind after that contract was made and it took away her own in the process. Asa attempted to reach out to Yuko who uncontrollably used one of the tentacles to attack her. Not knowing who she was anymore, Yuko made the decision to leave while giving Asa a proper goodbye; this also gets her to second guess whether those were really her own thoughts to begin with.

Right before that happens, Asa gives Yuko back the same shoes for being barefooted much like how she was that day at Yuko’s place. That day when Asa walked around barefoot and Yuko lended her the shoes. A simple returning of the favor which really spoke a lot about their friendship. Asa even makes an effort to quote the very same thing that Yuko told her that day, and immediately the two girls began bursting out in laughter about the whole thing. Thoughts ran through Asa’s mind about everything that’s happened in her own life about how a bunch of people died. How she killed her own teacher and class president, and feeling like she’s the absolute worst due to just laughing about the whole thing.

Finally, Yuko bids her farewells to Asa promising to return the shoes back to her one day to which she’s very hopeful about. She hopes through town from building to building as the night transitions over into the morning before being startled by birds. Interestingly, it is also revealed that Yuko can’t read the minds of animals and wished it was possible. A quick shot was shown of the student, Asa who is rather sad about Yuko leaving, and a quick sneak of Denji being sleep with a small tease of Nayuta next to him with the dogs surrounding them. When it cuts back to Yuko quotes “Chainsaw Man?” in confusion while her head was severed onto he floor with a shadowy figure of Chainsaw Man holding her body upside down as blood leaks onto the floor bringing an end to the chapter.

All in all, I give this chapter of Chainsaw Man an Amazing+ rating. When it comes to story progression there wasn’t really a lot that happened per say, but the real strength comes from the emotional aspect between Asa and Yuko. Their final conversation with one another was really captivating and heartfelt seeing the two friends bid their fair wells to one another, but it also comes with a huge sense of tragedy taking into the fact that at the end of the chapter Yuko was killed by a mysterious figure that resembled Chainsaw Man. The mystery behind this particular outcome has still yet to be determined, but we can infer that it wasn’t Denji as he was asleep with Nayuta during the whole time. Which Tatsuki Fujimoto does an incredible leaving us at the edge of our seats waiting to know what happens in the chapters to come, but that’s just only gonna add more for what’s to come with Chainsaw Man.Until then, I hope you all take care of yourselves out there.

#Chainsaw Man Chapter 111 #Chainsaw Man 111 #Chainsaw Man Chapter 111 Thoughts #Chainsaw Man Chapter 111 Review #Denji #Asa Mitaka #Yoru #Yuko #Justice Devil #Chainsaw Man Part 2 Chapter 14 #CSM #Chainsaw Man #Chainsaw Man Manga #Chainsaw Man Series #Tatsuki Fujimoto #anime #manga #anime/manga

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m1ckeyb3rry · 8 days

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I HAD A FEELING IT WAS THE DREAM

oh.

Ok jk LMAOO yk i have much more to say but BROTJRHSIZ THE ANGST STOPP NO WERE LEAVING KARASU ALONE??? Yukimiya the ultimate OPP here DHDVSHSHS well!! I guess at least they’re both dead!! Insert that one gif of that emoji reaching its hands up screaming and it like gets thanos snapped dissolves away anyways all of these longer series you have in the works are all bangers I can’t wait to read them all

LMAO “(a loser)” REAL wait tullieita does sound better just means Tullias gotta be first in the relationship LMAOO but FR gotta keep the og four familial SHSHS PSLSL I can imagine people in the fandom who would say that but had that actually happened???? That’s actually so crazy like bro what it’s not that deep just respect whatever people wanna ship doesn’t mean you gotta agree…..ok because I was lowk feeling the tullireo vibes but yeah to be safe maybe tullisagi is the move LOL (back to the origins!!) esp now that you said Isagis gonna be more relevant I think that’ll be good

Oliver aikus guide to getting girls just being there is so funny LMAOAOA it stands out so much because ifs lengthier than all the other ones too it’s hilarious I’m loving the duality though

LMAOAAO I’m gonna be waiting for the jaw dropping final wc reveal it’ll be orv on a mini scale at least!! but AHAH OP NAGIY/N KIDS imagine these kids just running around steamrolling every trainer in sight!!

Wait also unrelated BUT idk if I’m getting too into this but thoughts on different types of pokeballs and if anyone would use any…I know I exclusively used ultra balls for the higher catch rate and then would kinda color coordinate for pokemon I particularly liked (I loved the dive ball aesthetic….)

LFMAOAOAO Karasu traumatized too much “I’m not doing anything until you’re buried in your grave”

WAIT IMAGINE ZANTETSU IN POKEMON AU LMAOOOO is there a train pokemon /j i bet he’d try to collect smart pokemon and end up bossed around by them OR like otoya gets scammed and ends up with not as cool looking ones HAHA

But FR as long as he doesn’t completely drop some plot lines like gege I’ll be happy honestly I’m just here to see my favs in action tbh

LAMAOAOA I love aiku slandering them it’s so funny he’s gonna be so fed up with all these lovesick losers I bet he’s like “bro just hurry up and rizz her up already”

HSHSHA EGO FIC but FR that panel really did noa justice

- Karasu anon

LMAOOO YES IT WAS THE DREAM!!! you know i wouldn’t slide smth so specific in there for 0 reason 😏🤫

JFKDJDJS I TOLD YOU YUKI IS A VILLAIN he’s like ACTUALLY evil in hollyhock (although in his defense literally no one else is much better) for real though i think the only series where gets justice is pursuit and the oaeu (because in fwtkac karasu stays slandering him, in hollyhock he’s a villain, and he like is completely irrelevant to peregrine to the point that i don’t even think he’ll be mentioned in it) HAHA agreed at least they are together in the afterlife!! it’s kind of emo when you think about it though like otoya was the only one to genuinely ever love reader (it’s also revealed that anri, who’s the only servant that’s nice to reader, is the one who sold the hiiragis out to the yukimiyas/otoya [that’s who eita is referencing when he’s all like “you can’t trust everyone around you isn’t that sad]) and that’s why his death/“betrayal” in particular expedited her spiral sm…like she was already losing it beforehand + his betrayal would be bad for business but she genuinely could not bear the thought of him not “belonging” to her (which in hollyhock-reader-ese means him not loving her) anymore truly such a tragic pairing…tbh does otoya even deserve such a magnificent plot???? NO 😭😩 but no one else fits it as well as he does at the same time

HAHA tullia on top fr 🤩 i agree i think reader and co as a little family unit is so fun plus then we can keep that karasu + otoya dadfailures agenda going because i just think the thought of them trying to mentor reader and tullia meanwhile those two are just like 😐😬 is SO FUNNY especially because one of the earlier arcs is the arc with yukimiya and ofc both girls are super eager to learn from HIM so karasu and otoya are just like damn what does he have that we don’t…(the answer is a full and developed team, an actual relationship with chris prince NOT based on his online subscriptions, several contest ribbons and championships, and model rizz [his nickname is the “king of kalos” for a reason hehe])

okay so me personally i have never actually gotten comments like that but i see them everywhere (i saw a post saying it’s homophobic to write shidou with a female reader because he’s clearly gay i was like oh…interesting take…) so i’m super paranoid KFJFJD my blog has remained fairly unproblematic somehow which is crazy given how many followers i have!! and i’d like to maintain that…but at the same time i think if i write it well people might not be too mad?? because i can lowkey really see the tullireo vision too (idk if you’ve seen those tik toks where it’s like “working hard so my future wife can own a bookshop that loses money” but that’s soooo tullireo to me like “working hard so my future wife can be a pokémon breeder who gets overly attached to her eggs and refuses to sell them” LMAOO) their teams also kinda give off the same vibes if that makes sense (hold on i’ll copy paste for reference since both of them haven’t been super relevant in our convos so idek their teams off of the top of my head)

tullia: infernape [starter], lilligant, vivillon, lanturn, granbull, hitmonchan

reo: gallade [starter], cinccino, mawile, persian, flygon, florges

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN like their pokémon just fit really well together…does this mean their vibes are also adjacent…wait actually we know chigiri and tullia are gossip buddies + chigiri and reo are probably closer than in this au than in canon because half of the time nagi’s off getting involved in reader’s bs so they kind of HAVE to be friends + otoya and tullia have a menacing sibling vibe to them…imagine chigiri and otoya team up and they’re like “are you thinking what i’m thinking” so they’re just trying to set up tullireo (chigiri wingman goat he’s putting aiku to shame atm…tullireo AND nagiy/n give my man a break ‼️) and maybe THAT’S why otoya is acting off when tullia goes on a date with loki?? then when reader and karasu are like “bro are you good” he’s just like no i’m HEARTBROKEN and for a solid few chapters reader and karasu just think otoya likes tullia but is too shy to say smth…meanwhile he’s just emo because his otp just got ruined (it was only a temporary setback though TRUST tullia will lock in and get that bag when needed/chigiri will lock in and force them together before he loses more hair and brain cells thinking abt them)

tbh isagi does pull up a lot but he’s kinda weird about it?? like even though he’s supposed to be nagi’s age (and therefore reader’s) i think i HAVE to make him older because the role he plays just has that mentor-type energy…because he’s an e4 candidate he knows a lot more than the others so he always comes, drops some key info, and then leaves to coordinate w the other league members so while tullisagi could work i’m actually thinking abt it more and idk if that’s the vibe isagi is giving off rn 🤔 i’m not sure if i’m explaining his role well HAHAHA…like examples of the times he appears: first appearance when he mentions he knows barou, second (i think??) appearance when he rescues tabitullieita from team x while reader’s battling ego and explains more about how barou is the head (or so they believe), fourth appearance when he + reader and co + manshine trio discover the government’s involvement with team x and he flies off to inform his superiors (aka noel noa and the rest of the masters), fifth appearance when he gives reader the results of barou’s autopsy and reassures her that she did not kill him, and then final appearance when he’s there w the rest of the e4 candidates during reader’s battle against mr mikage/her exposing the government SO like he’s def there and relevant and vital but a) six appearances in 24 arcs is not great and b) he’s just giving gandalf energy LMAOOO IDK LOWKEY YOU’VE CONVERTED ME TO TULLIREOISM 😭😭😭

okay but imagine you’re like that fuck ass kid bug catcher joey or whatever and you see this sleepy looking fluffy white haired little girl (another headcanon i have is that reader’s genes did NOT fight whatsoever…like continuing w the theme they have an older son and a younger daughter and the son is a carbon copy of BAROU while the daughter is a mini female nagi but neither resembles reader herself at all 😭) with only one pokéball just wandering around and you’re like BAZINGA easy cash so you challenge her to a battle and she just sends out an AEGISLASH?? and when you look closer it’s not just any aegislash, it’s the one that fought on y/n “the reluctant champion” l/n’s team 😩 you’re fr cooked atp like yeah aegislash is no galvantula but it carries a FAIR share of battles once it finally joins the team 😰

wait speaking of the nagiy/n kids imagine their daughter is like a classic little kid and asks reader how she and nagi met and reader’s like uhhhh well my houndoom bullied his arcanine, we became rivals, we saved each other from an evil team that was headed by your uncle’s corpse, then we got isekai’d for a moment??? by aegislash actually…then some other stuff happened blah blah blah and their daughter is just standing there like damn me and who 😓⁉️

OOH POKÉBALLS well to start off with i know for a FACT that every single one of reo’s pokémon are in luxury balls only the best for reo “young prince” mikage!! reader’s gyarados is probably in a lure ball because she got it from a fisherman!! and those are more effective on pokémon caught while fishing…also her houndoom was a gift from barou so i can lowkey see it being in a premier ball because he wanted to splurge or smth yk 🤔 i think tullia’s lilligant is probably in a love ball idk why the vibes are just there ☝🏻 nagi’s snorlax could be in a heavy ball because the conditions are right (maybe reo had one lying around and gave it to him??) and all of karasu’s birds are in quick balls because yayoi would just buy them in bulk and throw them at pokémon before battling them and whichever ones stuck were the ones she took back to evaluate (i personally love quick balls i always give them a shot on the first turn of an encounter because they have a 5x boost on the first turn!! and if they don’t work i just get to battling but it never hurts to try) also lowkey nagi’s reuniclus in a dusk ball would be fire for the green spooky aesthetic 🤩

PLSSS i feel like zantetsu would almost be the reverse otoya because otoya wants to go for looks and ends up with a negative aura team in terms of aesthetics but they’re all super powerful meanwhile zantetsu chooses whichever pokémon look super strong but they end up being rlly weak?! like abomasnow HAHAHA omg that’s def his signature pokémon because it’s super big and tough and rare (it’s super hyped up in the anime too??) but then one day he encounters manshine trio and nagi’s arcanine accidentally sneezes an ember around the abomasnow and it’s GONE LMAOO yk reo’s never letting him live that down either

i WOULD say aiku deserves damage pay but tbh this is his karma he deserves it (plus he’ll get a girl of his own at the end of things) i think it’s funny too that with sae and barou he’s actively pushing them to get with reader versus with tabieitaken he’s like offering “gentle” guiding advice (aka how to be a player for reader with otoya and how to be a homewrecker for karasu) and then with reo and nagi bro is actively plotting on their girls??? like his involvement with reo is literally him being like “let me rizz up your future wife” and reo’s like erm wait actually no…meanwhile the entire nagi plot is so dumb it’s funny 😭 lowkey reader in the nagi version is my hero simply because that one is going to be SO humbling for aiku 😩 a girl choosing the guy he brought specifically to make himself look better i know aiku is FUMING

YKW THE EGO FIC COOKED TOO reader and noa lowkey were stealing the show so i had to stop though they were really really cute basically it was dependent on that one line about noa being from the slums?? and in the fic reader was just left on his doorstep when they were both kids so he took her in because he had no one else to love so he was like “ok i’ll love her” FJSKJDSJ anyways…

vomiting ngl…the way i just never even got to writing ego because i became so fascinated by the reader and noa dynamic before giving up entirely HSHSJJA anyways the thing about the lights and the homework is they can’t afford electricity so once it’s dark reader can’t do her homework anymore!! and their roof was leaking so it ruined her homework while she did it so she wasn’t able to finish which is why the extent of noa’s aspirations are “big house with electricity” 😭 and the grocery store thing is because he works basically all day loading and unloading inventory at a store so he’s always exhausted and hates his work BUT even though his shift starts super early in the morning he still got up even earlier to do reader’s hw for her 😓 LMAOOO meanwhile ego’s in japan doing who knows what 😩 anyways agreed they completely yassified noel noa i was AWED!!

OKAY ONE MORE THING

wake up babe pursuit graphic just dropped ‼️ it’s much much simpler than usual but for the au i really like it it just fits so well imo (plus houndoom!!)

#answered asks #pokémon au #hollyhock

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malamai · 6 months

Text

My weekend was a write off.

So as you will have all seen my mothersday was a bust and my week had YET ANOTHER HORRID END! I am not even shocked anymore when things go down now.

So in short Elijah was hospitalised because he'd had this really nasty chest infection since Christmas time that was passed off as viral by a ridiculous amount of healthcare professionals, despite me fighting to get him antibiotics because it was not viral at all and to no surprise of mine that chest infection turned out to be NOT FUCKING VIRAL. So he eventually saw a nurse, that unlike everyone else we went to did not have the brain activity of a fucking chicken nugget and got some antibiotics, some steriods and naturally she could see my frustration and was quite peeved herself at the state of him and fact that when she went through the notes on the computer that at least two other people had reported crackling in the chest along with damp sounds and not given him any medication. We started the antibiotics and the first course didn't do enough so he had to have another course and submit a Flem sample on Thursday.

On international women's day on the Friday I had a shoot and Elijah was still not in school so I send him down to my parents house so my brother could watch him and my mother was just getting over a stomache bug but was fine, thought nothing of it, but I didn't know until the Sunday but she made him lunch. (I know, doesn't seem relevant or important, but it is a key part of the puzzle. Stay with me on this.) So he came home and all was well, the day was fun, it went swimmingly.

Saturday morning I wake up and Elijah isn't looking too good, but I just initially thought "wow the antibiotics have knocked him well and truly" I do my normal and make him eat something before he has his antibiotics which he did and then he took his antibiotic. Within 30 minutes he suddenly takes a turn for the worst and he just starts constantly vomiting, like barely a break, everything he drank came back up, he just could keep nothing down and he starts looking extra bad, I knew something just wasn't right, he's vomited for an hour straight, he can't eat, can't drink, can't take medication and he just cannot stay awake and he has puked everything up to the point where all that's coming up is bile and even that is coming up constantly and he went clammy. I went on the phone to 111 and they got a hospital to call and when the hospital called they wanted us there after I explained all the stuff that has gone on with him health wise recently and Lee was with me and I think at first he thought I was loopy because I got him to sit with Elijah and started preparing my house because I knew I wasn't going to be back the same day judging by the look of Elijah, so Lee is like "what are you doing and why are you doing it so fast?" Because I was preparing my handbag with chargers ect... rushing the washing up, tidying, making sure I had a bucked and towel to take with me ect... and I just said "I'm doing everything I need to do now because I honestly don't think I'll be coming home tonight and I suggest you do anything you need to do when I'm done because I think I'll need you to stay with Aura."

When we get to the hospital they check him over and they basically don't have the facilities to find out what exactly is wrong but the lady we saw was lovely and she said she could see why I was concerned and he definitely needed some medical attention so off we went to the next hospital and I knew we would be fine going to the next hospital because it was Darlington, we always go to Darlington over Durham hospital because none of us have ever had a bad experience there, everyone has time for their patients, they leave no stone unturned, there is no waiting around left to god and good nature, there are more facilities and it runs like a dream. So we got there and Elijah got sent straight back to pediatric observation, his heart rate crazy, pulse crazy, oxygen low, constantly vomiting and they took blood, found markers in his blood, saw he couldn't keep a thing down if he tried and they decided to keep him in for the night on antibiotics and fluid drips and keep giving him anti sickness meds. I was allowed to stay with him which I obviously did. I did not bank on a mothersday sleepover in a hospital this year but you know, here we are. The next day he finally stops puking and his stats look a little better and they toom samples of everything. He was diagnosed with gastroenteritis and gastritis on top of his chest infection he already had and he got out at around 6.30pm.

So flash back to when my mother made him lunch. She works in a hospital and she had what she thought was a bug but was a actually a case highly contagious gastroenteritis and Elijah was already run down on antibiotics so of course he was going to catch it. So I'm looking after Elijah, I get him settled on the couch and he goes to sleep, Lee took Aura again so I could have some rest and have a bit of time to get some sleep but I just wanted some fun so I hopped on my xbox, turned on fallout 4 and was just chilling with the dogs on my bed. While I am playing I have to pause because I start feeling really bizarre. I remember just feeling so hot, like my eyes were rolling and I felt like I was so full I was going to explode which is exactly what I did, by this point I know I have caught the gastroenteritis and gastritis and I just start violently vomiting on mothersday night and I violently vomited for 12 hours straight to the point where I could not even call anyone for help, my muscles actually hurt from wretching and I had ran out of energy and started going in and out of sleep and somewhere in the 9th hour of this I managed to actually make a phone call in-between puking to Lee and he said I sounded like I was dying and I puked twice in the 2 minute phonecall we had. I needed him to grab me some Coca-Cola because it was the only thing I could think would help and I needed to stop puking because I had my own problem already through Elijah being sick.

When Elijah got taken to hospital I forgot to pack my meds which was not good because you're not meant to just come off them, so I didn't have one from saturday all the way through until Tuesday night and I have really felt the affects of coming off them all of a sudden because I was dizzy and acting out of character, a friend checked in with me and noticed. I explained "I am off my meds through no fault of my own due to vomiting and the trip to hospital and I'm now scared to take one because I feel like it will make me vomit." But he told me I needed to take the pill, so I braved it and I felt better, not 100% but it took the withdrawal away and the horrid "I'm off my meds" side effects but I'm still feeling some effects now like sudden deep depressive hours in my day and I have no drive but it can't be helped and I know its rational but needs to be numbed my meds and I can't wait til I am all stable on them again because fuck feeling like that.

But yeah, basically my son gave me gastroenteritis and gastritus for mothers day and I gave myself withdrawal on top of it all and had to go to work on tuesday while still recovering and looking after my children. Thats literally what happened. 😅

#mumblr #parenting #momblr #mom blogger

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avonne-writes · 2 years

Text

Reminisce

Pairing: Nick/Charlie

Word count, rating: 5086, M

Summary: The day of Nick's five-year class reunion brings some surprises.

Link to the AO3 post

As their car turns onto the familiar streets leading to Truham, Charlie's heart jumps. Here we go. Back after four long years. He looks at Nick's hands on the steering wheel and sighs. Nick's knuckles are going white.

"We can still turn around and just go down to the beach instead." He suggests, putting on an encouraging smile because he can feel the tension rolling off Nick in waves.

The resolute little wrinkle that Charlie loves so much appears between Nick's eyebrows. "No, we RSVP'd."

"Come on." Charlie coaxes him, rubbing Nick's thigh with his right hand. "They won't even notice we're not there."

That's an outright lie. Everyone will notice if Nick isn't there. Mister "Rugby King". And by association, they would also notice Charlie's absence, because everyone and their dog knows that he was the one who Nick went out with for the better half of his high school years. But as indifferent as Charlie is towards this reunion, he knows that Nick doesn't want to be there. Something has been off about him for weeks now.

With an ashen face, Nick steers the car into a spot in the parking lot and kills the engine. He checks the watch Charlie gave him for his twentieth birthday. "I guess we're early."

He reaches for the door handle, but Charlie grabs his other hand to stop him. "Hey."

Some of the colour returns to Nick's skin. He turns in his seat, away from the school's entrance, and leans closer to Charlie. "Hey."

Charlie puts a hand on Nick's cheek and strokes his temple. "What's wrong?"

It's a tell-tale sign when Nick looks down, then away. Over the years, Charlie has become fluent in these looks, knows the shade of each one. The guilty side-glance, the flustered back and forth when Nick is turned on but doesn't know if Charlie's game, the dark stare when he's angry. This is the scared puppy version, and it tugs at Charlie's heartstrings.

"Seriously, we don't have to go in. Most of these people don't have any influence on our lives anymore."

"I know." Nick says, frustrated. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

Nick's mouth opens, then closes. He grimaces. "Not just that."

"Okay." Charlie waits it out.

"Okay, so one part of me just keeps thinking about all the bad memories, like, you know, Ben and Harry and stuff, and I know that it's not relevant anymore and they may have grown up or something but I feel like I'm in a time machine. That I'm about to step into a situation where I'll have to fight to protect us. Does that make sense?"

Sometimes, Charlie can barely take it, the way Nick makes him feel. "Yeah. I understand."

"But." Nick swallows and blows out a long exhale. He seems calmer already, now that he has voiced what's bothering him out loud. He smooths a hand over his burgundy shirt. "I know I have to do this to get over it. I think replacing the images I have of them might help, you know?"

Charlie smiles. "I know."

Nick nods, visibly more relaxed now. He squeezes Charlie's hand. "How are you so calm about this? I thought you'd be the more anxious one."

Charlie shrugs. It would be a bad idea to say he has enough experience ignoring bullies. "I guess you're nervous enough for the both of us." When Nick smiles at his lame attempt to lighten the mood, he adds "And I know that if it's really bad, we can leave anytime. It's not exactly a luxury we had seven years ago."

Nick's smile widens. "Seven years. God. Can you believe it?"

Charlie mirrors Nick's expression and leans close enough that their noses brush. "It feels longer to be honest." He presses a chaste kiss to Nick's lips. "Nick?"

"Hm?" Nick steals another kiss.

"Do you think we could pretend to be like a high school couple again?"

Nick snickers. "Nooo, we were so awkward in high school."

Grinning, Charlie winds his arms around Nick's neck and pulls him closer. He can feel one of Nick's hands on his waist. "We're still awkward."

Nick leaves a trail of sticky kisses on Charlie's neck and cheek. "I'll let you know that I'm a… suave gentleman, Mister Spring."

"Right." Charlie drawls, and they have to break the next kiss because they're smiling too hard.

~°~

As far as Charlie knows, five year reunions aren't all that common - his year certainly isn't planning to have one - but some of the more sociable guys in Nick's class collaborated with people from the girls' school and this idea came to life. A joint reunion. On school grounds, no less, because they thought it would be nostalgic. Charlie would rather call it torturous, but even he has to admit it'd be kind of nice to see some of his and Nick's go-to spots. Like the art room. Or the nook behind the gym building where he touched Nick's bare stomach for the first time…

It's a funny thing that suddenly, he remembers that with great clarity, even though it wasn't pivotal in any way. He wonders what Nick thinks about as they walk through the old, familiar hallways hand in hand under the papier-mâché decorations.

"Do you think we're the only ones who came?" Nick whispers, which pretty much answers Charlie's question. It's eerily quiet. Their steps echo on the tiles as they approach the door that leads to the pitches outside.

Charlie pushes it open and comes face to face with Ben Hope. "Oh."

"Sorry." Ben says automatically, taking a step back before realizing who he's talking to.

His face twists then, but Charlie can't read it. All he can see is flashbacks to petty hatred and jealousy. He freezes. At the same time, he can feel Nick tense. His hold on Charlie's hand tightens, and he steps forward, trying to angle himself in front of Charlie. He must have been aiming for subtlety, but his broad shoulders and the narrow doorway make it impossible, and Ben's eyes snap to him immediately.

Ben blanches. He looks lean and pretty as ever, but it looks like a facade to hide the struggling within. Or maybe that's just the way Charlie sees him after everything he went through and witnessed in school. "Hello."

"Hi." Charlie manages to croak, pulling Nick to the side. "Sorry, we're in your way."

Ben averts his gaze. He clears his throat. "No problem." Without another glance, he rushes inside the building.

Nick's free hand is balled into a fist. His fingers clench and unclench in that awkwardly frustrated way that Charlie finds way more endearing than he should. "Didn't we agree that you wouldn't say the s-word to any of your bullies?"

Charlie looks at his feet. "S-"

"No."

A laugh escapes Charlie's mouth. "Oh, fine! It was just a courtesy, okay?"

Nick sighs. He gives Charlie a slow smile, then lets go of his hand only to throw his arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Let's find those picnic tables."

The reunion buffet is set up by the rugby pitch, with tiny, tasteless sandwiches and petit fours. It's surrounded with a few picnic tables for those who want to sit down, and some girls from Higgs are already mingling around. It's a mild, sunny afternoon. Charlie's content to soak in the warm light like a cat while Nick holds polite small talk with two lads from the rugby team. It seems as though they've grown even larger since graduation, their muscles bulging and sculpted with sharp lines. As conventionally attractive as that is, Charlie's glad that Nick's not obsessed with the gym like these two must be.

"I'll get us something to drink." He tells Nick and disentangles himself from his embrace.

He should also eat something, he figures, but old habits die hard - the thought of taking even a single bite in front of these people makes him queasy. He grabs a paper cup and gets himself some coke. Knowing all too well that if they're drinking different things Nick will just try to filch Charlie's, he pours out another cup and turns to head back. He stops dead in his tracks though, when someone approaches him directly.

"Charlie Spring!" It's Harry, loud and obnoxious as ever, but his grin doesn't feel mocking this time. He claps Charlie on the arm, almost making him spill one of the drinks in his hands. "All right, mate? Haven't seen you in ages."

"Yeah. Um. Nick and I have moved to Leeds." Charlie replies. His insides clench from the dread of an imminent homophobic comment, but Harry's trademark cruel grin doesn't make an appearance.

"You two still going strong? Glad to hear that, real glad, mate." He nods, still in the habit of using 'mate' as a punctuation mark. "I shacked up with my girlfriend in Kensington, can you believe it?"

Very much so, Charlie wants to roll his eyes, but he offers a polite smile instead, suspecting that Harry's disbelief refers to him having a steady girlfriend, not him living in one of the poshest neighbourhoods possible. He's right, because Harry launches into a gushing monologue about his girl that seems to come from genuine happiness and not a need to brag.

It's weird, having a normal conversation with Harry. The atmosphere between them never defrosted during their school years, even after the overt bullying stopped. But, it seems, Harry either can't remember any of that or chooses to ignore it. All things considered, Charlie realizes he prefers this to Ben's avoidance - but yet again, Ben has always been a coward.

After about twenty minutes of this surreal experience, his eyes wander back to Nick, missing the solid support of his hand on Charlie's back and the shield of his good-natured smile in the face of uncomfortable topics. It's evident that Nick is in a similar state. He's crowded by a circle of old classmates and some girls who probably used to have a crush on him, and his eyes are darting around in what Charlie identifies as panic. There's a ninety-five percent chance that he doesn't know how to say no and excuse himself from the conversation because he doesn't want to offend anyone.

A fond smile tugs at Charlie's lips. "So-" He bites back the second half of his sorry, remembering Nick's words. "I think I have to go rescue my boyfriend."

Harry follows his eyes. "Good idea, mate, we should join the lads!"

They have to skirt around the tables in a way that puts them behind some of the louder guys standing in Nick's group. Apparently, they have a vested interest in Nick's love life. It must be fascinating to them, Charlie guesses, but that doesn't make their questions less annoying or intrusive. He can feel the blood drain from his face when the first one reaches his ears.

“But isn’t it boring to only have sex with one person your whole life?”

"Yeah, don't you ever think about trying it with a girl? You're bi, after all, aren't you? You're missing all the fun at uni."

"I -" Nick draws his shoulders up defensively. "That's a shallow way of looking at it -"

It's their saving grace that Harry, with his usual penchant for drawing attention to himself, crashes the party. He greets all his old friends with complicated - and ridiculous - handshakes and throws in a story about his girlfriend, and just like that, everything else is forgotten. For once, Charlie feels thankful for his insatiable need for admiration.

He manages to shoulder his way through to Nick, who's still frowning in displeasure, and presses a drink into his hand. He puts his free hand between Nick's shoulder blades.

"Charlie!" Nick says in relief. "I've been looking for you."

Charlie gives him a weak smile. "I know." He looks around the group, and the guys who commented on their relationship earlier avoid his gaze. He spots Ben at another table. When their eyes meet, Ben looks away too.

"Can we go sit down?" Charlie asks Nick. Dark thoughts batter his mind, suggesting that people hate him, that they don't want to be in his company - he thought five years would have been enough to change that.

Looking concerned, Nick guides them to a bench at one of the tables. The early summer breeze blows his fringe into his eyes. "You okay?"

Charlie nods. He picks Nick's hand up and plays with his fingers, noting that the number of freckles on them has already increased in the marigold light. He thumbs at the base of Nick's fourth finger and wonders if this really is for life between them. He wants it to be - they've made it through the tough transition between high school and university without a break-up after all. They can make it through anything. But he can't help but be scared sometimes that he limits Nick's life. That he holds him back from experiences he'll regret not having later on in life.

"Okay. What?" Nick leans in closer, his mellow brown eyes focused on Charlie. "I can see you spiralling."

"Nothing. It's stupid." Charlie worries at his lip. He can't put the weight of his insecurities on Nick when Nick's already so tense from meeting some of the people he used to hate.

Nick, however, doesn't let it go. "Charlie." He whines, hugging Charlie close and rubbing his stubble on Charlie's face until he's pushed away.

"Oh my God, stop, stop." Charlie laughs. He blushes crimson.

Nick smiles back, utterly unashamed. "You asked me to act like we're in high school."

"You never acted like this in high school."

"Not in public."

Charlie laughs again. When Nick just sips his coke, watching him above the rim of his cup, he sighs.

"I was wondering if… if it really doesn't bother you that you never…" He runs a hand over his face. "I mean, you did miss out on some stuff. And you've been acting strange lately. Ever since you submitted your dissertation."

"What did I miss out on? Meaningless hook-ups and walks of shame? No." Nick shakes his head, frowning like the very idea irritates him. "One of these days I'm going to convince you not to ruminate over crap other people say about our relationship. Who cares about their opinion?"

Charlie smiles and rests his head on Nick's shoulder. "You're right. I let it get to me again."

Nick curls an arm around Charlie's waist. He's relaxed, but a second later, a strange tension spreads through him. He clears his throat. "Just for the record, that's not why I've been a bit out of sorts lately."

Charlie raises his head to look at him with wide eyes. "Then why?"

Nick returns his gaze for a moment, then leans down and kisses Charlie's shoulder through his shirt. "I'll tell you tonight, okay?"

Charlie's heart struggles to beat through the ice that seems to surround it. "Okay." He says faintly.

Nick's hand tightens on his side. "Oh, look, that's Miss Singh! Let's go say hi."

Mustering a smile, Charlie nods and stands up.

~°~

Overall, despite that little hitch and Ben's continuous awkward behaviour around Charlie, they have a reasonably good time. It cheers Nick up when he catches up with old friends he didn't stay in touch with, and Charlie gets to have a long conversation with Mr Ajayi, which makes it all worth it to be honest. They stay long enough that the afternoon sunshine bites Nick's fair skin and leaves him whining about his sunburn all the way to the hotel. Charlie laughs at him, and once their room's door is closed behind them, he pushes Nick on the bed and presses his cool lips to Nick's pink cheeks and nose until he can't stop giggling.

“Tell me again, why aren't we staying in your old room? Or mine?" Charlie asks, combing his fingers through Nick's hair. They're lying side by side on the covers, him on his stomach and Nick on his back with an arm outstretched to let Charlie press up close.

Nick's eyebrows curve up in the middle just like they do when he's about to ask Charlie something he cares deeply about, but he seems to think better of it in the end. "I kind of wanted to go down to the beach."

Charlie frowns and huffs a confused laugh, because it doesn't make sense, but Nick puts a hand on his nape and pulls him down into a kiss, and then it doesn't matter anymore. They make out in comfortable silence. He tastes the lingering sweetness of coke in Nick's mouth and shares wet, languid kisses with him. In the amber rays of the setting sun that stream in through the window, Nick's hair and eyelashes glow golden. His lips are soft and pliant, and his palms are a steady pressure on Charlie's neck and the curve of his back. He's so peaceful like this that Charlie just wants to warm himself on him, in Nick's love and the sense of belonging he feels in his arms.

He draws his kisses from Nick's lips to his neck, over his stubbly jawline to his pulse point, and he sucks the faint saltiness of sweat away from his skin until Nick squirms and pulls his shirt off.

Charlie's hand goes to Nick's pecs immediately. "What about going to the beach?" He asks playfully.

Nick bites his lip. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Charlie snickers.

They undress each other slowly, enjoying the moment. As though they haven't done this a thousand times before. How can it still be so mesmerizing after seven years? It never fails to amaze Charlie. Once they're both naked, he settles himself between Nick's legs and caresses the hills and valleys of his torso as if trying to memorize them, just like he did during their first time. He loves Nick's body. Loves that he's strong and thick but not sinewy like the adonises they cast in TV shows, he loves that Nick is hairier than he is, that he has freckles all over and a little layer of soft fat on his abs. He leans down and paints kisses on the skin he has just caressed, down along Nick's sternum, to one nipple then the next, then down to his stomach. When he reaches Nick's belly, he nips the supple skin there. Nick's hand tightens in his hair.

He looks up to meet Nick's half-lidded eyes. "I've been thinking about this all day."

Nick's chest expands around a deep breath. "Going down on me?"

"No, about your stomach."

Confusion looks ridiculously adorable on Nick's face, if someone were to ask Charlie. "Um, okay."

"I don't know, I just really like it." He kisses Nick's stomach again, running his fingertips over the spot that makes Nick snort a laugh.

"Charlie!" Nick captures his fingers.

"I'm serious." Charlie laughs back, then sits up and watches Nick until his grin fades. "So…" He raises an eyebrow playfully. "Do you want me to go down on you?"

Nick groans. His free hand is already clenched in the sheet. "Please."

Charlie smiles again. He settles in a comfortable position and takes Nick's cock in a gentle hold, casually stroking it while he has his fun adoring Nick's hipbones with kisses and bites. It's a game they play sometimes, to see who caves into desire first, who cuts the teasing short. Nick has already said please, so technically, it should be Charlie's win, but he doesn't argue his case when Nick lets out a quiet, breathy laugh at the first touch of Charlie's lips on his cock.

"Shut up." Charlie swats at him before mouthing his way up the side of Nick's cock.

Nick grabs his hand. He continues to snicker until Charlie wraps his lips around the head and sucks.

"Ah, that's so good." He sighs then. One of his hands strokes Charlie's hair. "So good."

Giving Nick head is one of Charlie's favourite things in the world. There's nothing quite like reducing him to a babbling, flushed mess with a few well-placed flicks of pressure. He likes to feel the muscles around Nick's hips jump to thrust but not move until he says it's okay, he likes to hear the hitches in Nick's breathing and taste his pleasure on his tongue. It's something he's become really good at over the years, and something about doing it in a new place makes it even more exciting.

When he pulls off, Nick's trembling. He tugs at Charlie's arm. "Charlie."

They kiss, long and deep, running their hands all over the familiar planes of each other's bodies until rubbing against each other isn't enough. With a needy noise, Nick pulls one of Charlie's legs over his hips. "Straddle me?"

Charlie only pauses for a split second to think it over. "Okay."

It's still not his favourite position to have sex in but he knows it when Nick needs to relinquish the weight of control. He can ride Nick if that's what he wants. He reaches for the lube in their bag to prepare himself while Nick strokes his thighs. Sometimes, Nick likes to bottom, but this isn’t one of those nights and quite frankly, Charlie prefers it that way. He enjoys the way Nick does it, how he holds and fills Charlie in the best of ways, and how sated they both are after.

"Ready?" He asks when he is, gripping Nick's cock again, trailing slippery fingers up and down its length.

Something about that question still makes Nick flush from anticipation. "Yeah."

It starts out as a slow ride, something sweet and comfortable instead of the rushed quickies they used to have in Charlie's last year of high school, when they were long-distance. Charlie doesn't even know why those memories float back to his mind but he can't help comparing the confidence in Nick's touches to those earlier days. He can't stop his brain from bringing back the memory of their first time when Nick was so nervous he almost cried. He has to slow down to a rocking movement because a giggle bubbles in his chest. Even without knowing the reason, Nick starts laughing along with him in ragged, panting chuckles, rubbing Charlie's arms and then grabbing his waist to flip them around.

He gives Charlie a messy kiss. "Hi."

Charlie's lips curl into a smile again. "Hi."

Nick laces both of their hands together and pulls them above Charlie's head. He takes a moment to let his gaze roam all over Charlie's flushed face. "I love you."

Charlie wraps his legs around Nick's waist. "I love you too."

It doesn't take long to reach the peak after that. As he often likes to do, Nick presses his face to Charlie's neck when his thrusts start gaining strength and speed, and Charlie lets the sensations of it wash over him, those rhythmic jolts of electricity and the gradually building heat. He can hear that Nick is on the precipice, recognizes the stutter in his moans and the rapid bounce of the mattress, so he wriggles a hand free and strokes himself to completion.

"God, you're so hot." Nick whimpers as Charlie gasps through it. Their mouths crash together again, sloppy and distracted, and Nick still keeps going, on the brink but unable to tip over it.

Charlie wraps his arms tight around him and starts whispering into his ear. “Come on, sweetheart.”

"Ah." Nick cries out, snaps his hips and stills, shuddering from the rapture of it, his chest damp and heaving against Charlie's. He all but collapses when the last ripples are over. "Oh, Charlie. That was…"

"Yeah..." Charlie closes his eyes. He walks his fingertips down Nick's spine, then back up. He kisses Nick's ear. "Admit it, you have a thing for sweet nothings."

Nick just hums and hugs him tighter, his nose still tucked into the crook of Charlie's neck. Charlie shakes him. "Hey, no falling asleep on me."

Moving as little as possible, Nick pulls out and shifts his hips off Charlie, but keeps his torso draped over him. "Better?"

Charlie grimaces. He can feel the wetness between his legs and he hates the sensation. This is the reason why they still use condoms sometimes. He tries to crawl out of Nick's embrace. "I'm going to take a shower."

Nick makes grabby hands after him. "No, stay with me a little longer."

"I'll be back in, like, ten minutes."

"Charlie…"

"Ten minutes!"

He doesn't look in the mirror because seeing Nick's marks on his body is a double-edged sword, sometimes it makes him happy, other times his self-conscious nature takes over, and he doesn't want to deal with that tonight. He climbs into the shower and rinses himself off, relishing the hot water on his skin. He's about to finish up when he hears the shower stall open, and Nick's hands touch his shoulders.

He laughs, unable to turn in the tiny space. "We don't fit, you dork."

"We can try."

He bats Nick's hands away and gets out. "You're so clingy today."

It's the wrong thing to say, perhaps, because Nick goes quiet, and Charlie has to dry himself in the awkward silence. But just when he's about to apologize, Nick pipes up on the other side of the shower's wall. "Char, can we go down to the beach after all?"

"Now? It's an hour-long drive. We won't catch the sunset, if that's what you're thinking."

"I still want to go."

Charlie breaks into a confused smile. "Okay."

~°~

The sky is purpling blue with billowy grey clouds when they arrive at the beach. Their beach, with its rocky shore and colourful huts. They take a walk along the empty bay while the water laps sluggishly at the shore. The wind teases the curls of Charlie's hair and makes Nick zip up the hoodie he stole back from Charlie's side of the wardrobe. They're quiet, and the lack of conversation worries Charlie. It wouldn't, normally, but Nick seems lost in thought again, and he said he had something to tell Charlie. What could it be?

At a spot near the water, Nick stops and they take a moment to watch the town's lights play on the waves. Then, he takes a deep breath, looking at Charlie then away again. Charlie doesn't know what it means.

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't really how I planned to do this, but uh…" He puts his hands in his pockets and turns one of his feet on its side. Charlie's eyes zero in on that movement, but he still can't put it together. "There's something I've been wanting to talk about for a while now."

"Don't - Don't say it." Charlie interrupts, panicking. They can't break up, he doesn't want to - everything was fine until Nick started behaving like this last month. What if it's a quarter-life crisis? "We can work it out, I'm sure, just let me know what's wrong and I can -"

"Charlie." Nick removes one hand from his pockets to squeeze Charlie's shoulder. "Nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure?"

The answer is an incredulous laugh. "Yes."

"Oh. Okay."

There's a pause when they try to read each other's expressions and fail.

"What?"

Charlie hides his hands in the sleeves of his sweater. "Just. You've been quiet in the past couple of weeks. A bit distant sometimes."

"Oh." Nick's eyes go round in genuine surprise. "I didn't notice. I'm sorry if I came across like that. Just had a lot on my mind, really."

Charlie nods, waiting with his heart in his throat. He doesn't expect Nick to step close and stick his own hand into the sleeve of Charlie's sweater to hold Charlie's fingers.

"You're my best friend." Nick starts. His palm is clammy. "You're everything I've ever wanted in a partner, and… I kind of prepared a speech but I'm too nervous -" He stammers.

Charlie's heartbeat races for an entirely different reason now. He feels like he's back in that empty room at Harry's sixteenth birthday party, leaning in to kiss his crush and hoping he isn't dreaming. It's surreal to see the same wildly nervous light in Nick's eyes and the determination in his jaw to barrel through his fears nevertheless.

"I just love you so much." Nick says, leaning even closer. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Charlie has to squeeze Nick's hand not to faint. Nick gives him a long, hopeful look, then pulls his other hand out of his pocket. There's a little box in it, and when Nick pops it open between their chests, Charlie sees a ring.

"Will you marry me?"

Charlie doesn't think it's embarrassing that after the emotional rollercoaster he put himself through, he bursts into tears.

"Yes." He laughs. "Obviously."

He barely keeps himself from sobbing into the kiss Nick presses to his lips. He continues to smile and cry at the same time as he watches Nick's trembling hands put the ring on his finger. When it's finally on, he throws his arms around Nick and hugs him tight. Nick's face presses into its usual place on Charlie's shoulder. "I never thought this would happen to me."

Nick clutches him tighter. "Me neither."

"I can't believe you asked me after your class reunion."

"I told you I didn't plan it like that! I just couldn't keep it a secret from you any longer. You were already catching on."

Charlie strokes Nick's hair. "You really want to get married?

There's a second of silence, then Nick pulls back and laughs. "Yeah. Isn't that obvious?"

Charlie opens his mouth, but he can't say anything, he's grinning too hard. With a fond smile, Nick shakes his head and presses their foreheads together. "Do you want me to pick you up and shout it out loud?"

"Please, don't." Charlie chuckles, but Nick's already running into the sea, spreading his arms and turning towards Charlie.

"I love Charlie Spring, in a romantic way, not just a friend way!"

From one of the houses closest to the beach, someone hoots. Charlie covers his face with his hands. He can hear the squelch of Nick's shoes - he's going to be the one to drive them back to the hotel now, isn't he? "My God, you're so cringe."

Nick's laughter rumbles in his ear. His arms wrap around Charlie's waist. "You love it."

Charlie sighs, but the kiss he lays on Nick's lips is soft and tender. "I really do."

🍂End🍂

#heartstopper fanfic #nick nelson #charlie spring #heartstopper #narlie #nick x charlie #my writing

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korereapers · 2 years

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Title: What makes us human

Fandom: DC, Batman

Pairing: Scarecrow/Riddler, Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma

Rating: Explicit

Tags: scarebeast smut, so you know what to expect

ALSO, this wouldn't have been possible without @finzphoenix because wow, what the hell, your fanarts have QUALITY and my fic would be nothing without them

AO3

There is no honor among thieves, as they say, but Edward would like to think that there is, in fact, some kind of honor among rogues.

Their animosities are not a secret to anyone. Today’s ally could be tomorrow’s foe, but they all have their preferences. And, shit, he would like to say that he can consider Oswald a friend, but there are some… discrepancies in their relationship.

One of the most relevant ones being, of course, the problem in front of him, in the form of his beloved, clearly in pain as he transforms yet again, hay, burlap and flesh becoming one, the already tall man becoming bigger and bigger, until the ceiling isn’t high enough for him anymore, and he has to hunch over, still groaning in pain.

Edward is not the most tactile man. Neither of them are. It has become more and more usual as their… relationship progressed, but he still finds it difficult when a situation like that arises. When he knows that nothing he can do can make it better, that only time can make it pass. Still, he reaches out, the trembling giant almost recoiling when he moves, as if he were…

“Don’t be scared. It’s just me.”

He doesn’t even know if the Scarecrow is able to feel fear anymore, even in this state. The beast he has become seems to relax, allowing Edward to touch his arm, softly, glowing orange eyes on Edward as he tries to ease the pain.

“Only hurts… at first.”

The Scarebeast, as they call him, is intelligent. As much as Jonathan Crane, because he is in fact Jonathan, his Jonathan, only that his mind and body are a little bit more scrambled. It’s difficult to adapt to such a sudden and brutal change, and Edward can be nothing but amazed at how he endures it, almost as if expecting the pain, as if yearning for it.

Edward cannot say he doesn’t understand.

“Lie down. It will be more comfortable.”

Jonathan does as he is told, his body still shaking slightly as he moves, lying on the ground of their shared living room. He looks even bigger like that, his usual wiry appearance all brutal and huge and-

Edward shouldn’t be finding him attractive in this state, but a snort from the Scarebeast tells him everything he has to know.

“Lie down. With me.”

Of course Edward does. He is not scared of him, not more than usual, anyways. He knows what Jonathan could do to him as he is, and the thought sounds oddly thrilling, but he also feels marveled at the way a big arm embraces him, keeping him closer.

“I hate him,” Jonathan confesses, his voice deep, rumbling inside of his chest, as Edward instinctively gets closer. “I hate him, but I love you more than I hate him.”

Edward hugs him tighter, dexterous fingers playing with what is now Jonathan’s skin. Trying to bring him some comfort. Anything.

He doesn’t have to look to see the smile on the burlap, because Jon’s stare has always been intense, everytime, in any form.

“I am not in pain, Edward.”

Edward doesn’t move, fingertips playing with clothes, hay, skin. He loves him, every single part of him. A part of him does hate Oswald for this, though.

“I’m also curious. Not just… worried.”

It feels difficult to accept, but almost freeing, in a way. A large digit caresses his face, making it heat up a little. As if he knew. The little shit.

“About what?”

Edward rolls his eyes, because it’s obvious, and Jonathan’s mind games can be tiring sometimes, no matter how much he likes them.

“Your body. Your mind.”

The Scarebeast just nods, as if wanting him to continue.

“Would you be opposed to it if I… wanted to examine you a little? To explore?”

Jonathan’s eyes shine in amusement, and Edward recognizes him in those little gestures. It’s almost endearing.

“Oh, but haven’t you explored my body enough already?”

And fuck, Edward blushes, but out of frustration, not embarrassment. Of course it’s not embarrassment.

“Do you have to be like that?”

The beast shrugs, and Edward decides that’s his cue to start touching.

Clothes that used to be baggy barely cover him, his skin dry to the touch, but Edward doesn’t find it unpleasant. He traces invisible lines upwards, from his arms to his shoulders, painfully aware of the way Jonathan keeps looking at him, waiting. Wanting.

He then touches his face, burlap and skin one and the same, an uneven breath coming from behind sharp teeth that could tear him apart if they wanted to. Jonathan likes this, Edward realizes. He likes this as much as he does.

“You remind me of my own humanity, you know,” Jonathan mutters, and Edward stops for a second. “And I don’t only mean in this form.”

Edward freezes for a second, his smile sheepish, his dyed hair brushing against Jonathan’s face. The Scarebeast decides it’s the best time to show affection, in the most physical way he can, so he licks Edward’s face, a deep laugh reverberating when Edward makes a noise. It’s not displeasure, that much Jonathan knows.

“This form may even have its advantages.”

“Such as?”

And Edward sees himself in Jonathan’s eyes, overpowered by him, his clothes torn to shreds, and just-

“You know what. I’m too tired to pretend you don’t make me hard as a rock.”

Jonathan would raise an eyebrow if he could, but the gesture is equally visible.

“Even in this hideous form?”

Edward’s hands are warm against the burlap, speaking softly because he kisses it, knowing he won’t find lips to keep against his own.

“No form of you is hideous, my dear.”

Jonathan grunts, deeper than usual. Feral, and unrestricted. Edward wants to see him lose control, wants him to-

Claws get rid of his clothes in a second, tearing them apart as if they were made of sandpaper. Edward complains wordlessly, not wanting to accept how hot that makes him feel, how desired.

“Hey! My suits are expensive!”

Jonathan laughs mischievously, because he knows, because he loves ruining his suits only to see him throw a small tantrum. Because he likes him. Because he finds him adorable.

“How do you want me?” Jonathan asks, ever the gentleman. The Scarecrow doesn’t ask, he just takes whatever he wants, but Jonathan… When Jonathan is with him, Edward feels sacred. Whole. More than good enough.

He feels perfect, and he has sometimes cried about the feeling, but Jonathan doesn’t ask. You don’t end up in Arkham without having some issues.

“Fuck. Your tongue…”

The Scarebeast’s smile is like the devil’s, sharp teeth and calculated words.

“You know. I love it when you stop being so talkative and your words become a mess. No riddles, no questions, just… you.”

Jonathan’s tongue is on his throat, and Edward wonders if he could strangle him with it if he wanted to.

“You like to make me a mess.”

Jonathan doesn’t answer, letting his tongue do its job, carefully circling a sensitive nipple, licking his sternum. Edward whimpers, deep in the sensation, and still knowing what’s to come.

Because as soon as he feels Jonathan’s warm breath, his deliciously wet tongue around his cock, he swears he is going to come even faster than he expected.

He doesn’t complain when Jonathan positions him against the ground, only wishing it could be a bed instead, opening his legs for him, each lazy lick against his hardness making him lose his composure.

“Fuck, that’s slow.”

“I never said we were in a rush.”

Edward has learned from him. To wait patiently, because good things come for those who wait, and because of the gentle encouragement he receives every time they do it like this.

“Good boy… just like that. Breathe.”

Edward actually finds it difficult to breathe, but he tries nevertheless, the torture of a warm and dexterous tongue againt his cock, his balls, and even behind them, enough to reduce him to a moaning mess.

He feels Jonathan’s claws on his sides, and then cupping his butt with badly hidden desire. He knows he could break him, that he could just sink his claws into him until he made him scream, but Jonathan treats him like a treasure, and that’s just the way Edward feels.

The buildup to his orgasm is slow, but sure. The motions of Jonathan’s tongue are lazy but purposeful, and there comes a moment in which Edward almost forgets. Who he is, where they are. It’s only Jonathan’s tongue against him, his name a prayer in Edward’s lips.

And then, Jonathan stops.

Edward groans, too tired to even insult him, to complain properly, and Jonathan only caresses his face as an apology.

“I wanna be inside of you when you come.”

Edward’s anger goes away in a second, his legs trembling when he tries to move, but Jonathan stops him, clearly wanting to discuss something important.

“My anatomy has changed, Edward. You aren’t going to find what you are used to down there.”

Edward doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if he is big, if he is so big that it breaks him and he cannot walk in days. What he didn’t expect was a tentacle, big and twitching when Edward raises his eyebrows in both surprise and interest. Jonathan seems about to speak, self conscious, probably going to suggest something different, but Edward has had enough of his bullshit.

“If you don’t put that inside of me I swear I’ll kill you.”

He swears that Jonathan roars, his huge body on him in a second, licking his face with so much affection that Edward wonders if that’s really his Jon, or if the transformation has somehow made him more… sentimental.

“It lubricates itself, it won’t hurt you.”

Edward doesn’t give a shit. He just wants Jonathan inside of him, to make him come so hard he sees stars, that this form is no longer a punishment and can be something good for both of them. Something Jonathan stops seeing like a curse, because no matter who and what he is, Edward will still like him anyways.

He is not wrong, though. It doesn’t hurt. The pressure is delicious, the tentacle warm against his insides, it’s slimy nature not finding much resistance to enter Edward’s body. It’s strange, but not unwelcome, the appendix exploring him slowly, because Jonathan may know Edward’s body, but this is all new, and he wants to know where and how-

“Oh fuck.” Edward moans, his thoughts jumbled again, because the tentacle has effortlessly found his sensitive spot. He caresses it again, and again, trying to find the perfect pressure, and Edward’s toes curl, so close to coming that when the appendix goes rigid, he almost wants to murder Jonathan in cold blood.

“Scream,” is everything Jonathan manages to say, and Edward looks up, to irradiated orange eyes that look at him with badly concealed lust. “Scream for me, and I’ll let you come.”

“Jon, I can’t…”

“Scream for me, Edward,” It’s everything he says, thrusting into him again, and again, only brushing against his prostate slightly, until Edward runs out of fucks to give and just lets his voice out.

The tentacle rewards him immediately, curling against his prostate, focusing on it, vibrating against it. That’s exactly when Edward’s moan is so loud that Jonathan smiles, encouragement in his movements, his claws gently cupping Edward’s sides, the tentacle pulsating when Edward reaches out and touches his face.

“Fuck, I love that. Just let me. Please Jon, I…”

A row of sharp teeth has never seemed so lovely.

“Gladly.”

Edward doesn’t really register his peak. It has been delayed so much, that it’s as if his brain froze, lost in the sensation, a curious tentacle still playing with him as he messily comes between their bodies, so hard and yet so expected that Edward has trouble coming back to reality for what seems like hours.

“You’re so good to me,” Jonathan says, almost a mumble, and Edward chuckles, exhausted.

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?

Jonathan doesn’t answer, thrusting into him gently, seeking his own release. And Edward, OCD or not, finds that he wouldn't mind getting his ass full of whatever slimy substance the tentacle oozes. If it even can ejaculate.

It’s only seconds, because surprisingly, Jonathan wanted to come as much as Edward himself. He doesn’t feel much inside of him, just small spasms that he finds kind of adorable, Jonathan’s words about him sounding like a prayer, full of gratitude and reverence and.

Love.

The word still sounds strange to him, but he is slowly getting used to it.

“You make me feel human, all over again.” Jonathan confesses, as they cuddle in the ground, no bed big enough to let the Scarebeast rest properly. Edward curls against his chest, his eyes closed slightly when he hears his heartbeat, still uneven, but still there.

“I could say the same about you, you know.”

He doesn’t miss the way in which Jonathan’s heart starts beating faster.

#my stuff #scriddler #riddlecrow #dc #jonathan crane #scarecrow #edward nygma #riddler #edward nashton #read the rating before reading

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ao3feed-drstrange · 3 months

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[Rewritten] Have You Ever Heard of the French Mistake Mr. Stark?

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/G0QC1aT by RandomFanfictions If Tony had any humor, he would say it’s been a strange few months. It’s a good thing he did have humor, so now anyone who had to step foot in the lab was forced to hear him make the same cheesy joke every time they asked about the project. Almost four months ago, Tony Stark met Dr. Stephen Strange for the first time. Apparently in studying the Eye of Agamotto, Strange had come across several things. One thought bled into the next, and suddenly, the man was having all these kinds of dreams that felt more like parallel lives than it did a fantasy. He didn’t have the right words to explain it–not yet, but he knew there was something out there and it was something worth looking into. Stupidly, Tony took up his offer, and now... “Mr. Stark,” Peter began, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” Or: The MCU multiverse tends to leave backdoors for pesky variants to get through and I'm exploiting that possibility. Words: 1954, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Remastered Fics Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Loki (TV 2021), What If...? (Cartoon 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Tom Holland (Actor), Robert Downey Jr., Other MCU Actors, Loki (Marvel) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Everyone, Actors & MCU counterparts Additional Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Post-Movie: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Time Shenanigans, Multiverse, I'm taking the MCU timeline into my hands here, I was ahead of the game when I wrote this originally to include the multiverse, Rewrite, TVA | Time Variance Authority (Marvel), Variants (Marvel), Stephen Strange is Strange Supreme (What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?), If you haven't watched Loki or What If and don't mind spoilers then you'll be okay, Their relevance is explained in the fic read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/G0QC1aT

#IFTTT #stephen strange #dr strange #sorcerer supreme #marvel #the avengers #ao3 #ao3feed

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limmastyles · 2 years

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I understand that this PR stunt is to promote the movie and Olivia has hijacked it to promote herself but what does Harry’s team think that this is going to do? What does the studio and also Olivia’s team think that this is going to do? We all know Olivia is only doing this because she thinks it’s going to help revitalize her career but with her acting skills and her lack of the Director we know that’s not going to happen.Like there is a very small number of Harry’s fans that actually think that this is a real relationship. Then there are fans who don’t really give a fuck, then there are the many of us who think that this is PR then there are the Larries who also think that this is PR. So you have a good huge portion of his Fanbase you think this is a PR. Harries Fanbase isn’t going to help her in her career later on. Once Harry breaks up with a girl they forget about her they don’t really care about her anymore especially if that’s a girl that wasn’t that famous to begin with. Taylor Swift is Taylor Swift she was always going to be relevant with her without hairy, Kendall Jenner is a part of the Kardashians very unfortunately are always going to be relevant but people don’t really pay attention to Camille because she was a low-key model before hand and she is now low-key model with the monicker of Harry’s ex girlfriend attached to her. Olivia Wilde is going to go back to being a big list actress who can’t get any movie roles but now she has this terrible stain on her name. We all know don’t worry darling sucks And isn’t going to do well and the production team and the studio also know that. She lost perfect, she has a extremely small role in Babylon and who knows if that will even make it into the movie and the spider woman movie by Sony was apparently scrapped. Now the general public don’t like her. She was just Jason Sudeikis his fiancé before to the general public and now today and she is a cheater who left her fiancé and her kids to follow a 20 something year old around the world cool looks and happy every time he’s with her. They think that she looks pathetic. So who is this really for? Like have her team not really realize that her 15 minutes of fame does have an expiration date. Like after the stunt is over and after the movie is out people are going to care about her anymore. This time next year we would have forgotten about her. So what do they think that they are going to accomplish. We know these days that the movie and theatre industry are kind of dying. People don’t want to go spend $15 on a movie when they can spend the same amount of money on a subscription and get thousands of movies and TV shows for the price of one movie. These days movies that do well at the theatres are only huge blockbuster movies and if people here that a movie isn’t good they are aren’t going to want to spend money on it. Yes don’t worry darling gets bad ratings than people aren’t going to want to see this movie. That intern will generate low box office sales which means that it doesn’t matter if Harry’s fans will go see it the general public won’t want to see this movie not only because it’s getting bad reviews but Olivia Wilde leaves a bad taste in their mouth so they aren’t going to want to support her anyways. Also for hairy this doesn’t help him whatsoever. This does it make him more relevant to his fans and it only makes him look worse in the eyes of the general public. This home wrecking cheater image that he spent so long trying to get rid of is back full force because the general public think that he broke up ogre and jason. They might not think it but this does put a state on Harry and his reputation as well. I just don’t understand why this wasn’t thought out properly. Like you look at other PR stunt and how it can sometimes help people but in both cases both parties are losing. I just don’t think that either of their teams really thought this through and it’s too late to go back and now that it’s ending it just looks fucking stupid and messy and after the movie comes out we will see if the stunt was worth it bu

This trick is absolutely not worth it because it will eventually drown them both. But Harry has fans who will stay with him forever, and he will eventually be able to restore his image … but she will forever remain a disgusting mother and a mediocre director/actress who has gone into oblivion

#fauxlivia #holivia is fake #holivia stunt #pr stunt #publicitystunt #holivia #pr relationships #olivia wilde #holivia pr stunt #publicity stunt

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rightsockjin · 3 years

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Summary: Your best friend of your near entire life has been a total asshat to you ever since you started to casually date which didn't seem super fair to you since he did the exact same thing and you were nothing but supportive! It just sucks that you two are growing apart over a coping mechanism that you adopted to distract yourself from your overwhelming crush on said idiot. If only he knew. Wait- did you say that OUT LOUD?

Rating: M (What isn't on this blog?)

Genre: Maybe a little angst? Smut for sure tho.

Word count: 8003

Warnings: Thongs, sex, lewd thoughts, erections, physical pushing, raw dogging, cream pie, mentions of giving head, a looooooottt of swearing, mentions of slut shaming. Oh right- oppa kink and little splashes of korean as well.

yeo-chin= girlfriend

nam-chin= boyfriend

halmoni= grandma

apa=to hurt

aya=expression to express pain equivalent to 'ow'

Author’s note: HI EVERYONE! We are somewhat back!! So sorry for the long wait for content. Things have been insane and we’ve been working on a much- much longer fic for this blog which will involve all of the boys! It’s a long story but this hit me like a truck yesterday and it was initially meant to be a reaction but I couldn’t stop writing… so it’s 7k and the other boys will get their own version of this prompt “best friend is jealous of the attention you give to guys” thing. Starting once again with the one and only Yoongi! Hope y’all enjoy:)

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“You know it’s funny, I don’t remember asking,” Yoongi said virulently, his attention centered solely on his phone as he scrolled through instagram... or twitter... or maybe it was tinder. Your heart sank. You had been excited that this guy- Woojin- had given you attention. He was good looking by a lot of standards and it had boosted your confidence significantly. Of course, you wanted to share that excitement with your best friend. Rejecting someone that good looking always made you feel really powerful and attractive but you had barely shown him Woojin’s picture and commented on how attractive he was before your so called best friend had brushed you off and went back to his solitude and avoidance.

You had noticed that something was off for a while now but hadn’t commented on anything to avoid any conflicts but this was ridiculous. You had constantly listened to the stories of how girls would trickle in like water for him. He seemed to be going out with someone new every two weeks.

It wasn’t fair that you had to put up with his annoying descriptions of how beautiful these girls were while you sat and gave him your undivided attention as your heart slowly chipped and broke with each new conquest of his. Especially when each girl was so different from who you were. At first, you thought that maybe you were annoyed by this simply because it was hurtful to think he didn’t at least think you were pretty. It wasn’t long after that that you realized that it hurt you when he went out with women who were your polar opposite because it meant that he would never date you.

This had been shocking in itself. You had known Yoongi for your entire life, or at least a good portion of it, and you had always seen him as a brother. Your oppa in the least sexual or boyfriend-y form possible, but when you looked at him now… he was looking a lot more like well- an oppa.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. His words stung more than you would like to admit. Whenever Yoongi got this snippy, you liked to equal him in snip and double him in sass, never showing how vulnerable his disinterest made you feel, but this time, it felt like he had punched you in the chest with all his force and told you you were ugly to boot.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him either. He’d make fun of you. Last time you had cried, he’d awkwardly pat you on the head and quickly changed the very serious topic of your parents' relationship with yours to something totally different and not even a little relevant to helping you feel better. Given, that had been years ago and he’d never been very good at comforting you nor had he so much as expressed his support of you. Not since that one time when you had broken your wrist and he’d promptly pushed the girl who had been the culprit off the swing set thus getting himself suspended for a week and a half when you were both in elementary school.

But this… this was just cruel. It was ugly. It made you look at your “best friend” in a light that was not so shiny and pristine. He’d changed so much since then. He’d pulled away from you since then and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe you had and had just ignored it. Maybe you’d hoped if you didn’t mention it, that it would go away and he would come back full force with one of his dumb dances and pretty smiles. Maybe you hoped he’d realize soon what you had realized in your early twenties.

You loved him. And not the brotherly love that you had always had for him, no, you, Y/N, were very much in love with your best friend. Which made this whole situation so much worse.

When you said nothing, Yoongi briefly glanced up at you from his seemingly important phone conversation with most likely another of his soon to be dates only to look back down.

“What? Cat got your tongue? No snippy rebuttal? You’re not gonna chew me out for being mean to you again?”

His face was illuminated by the blue lights of his screen; he had it at the near darkest setting and his eyes were squinted to see it better. Something that had always annoyed you because you knew it was only hurting his vision.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. When that didn’t help, you cleared it, accidentally catching his attention. He clicked his phone off and looked over at you as if ready to argue but something in your face must have given away your inner turmoil because his hard features softened and his lips fell slightly open.

“Are you crying?”

No. Of course you weren’t crying. You never cried. Not ever. But then your cheeks were wet and the onslaught of emotion seemed to burst. How far had you fallen for this indefinitely cold man that his sarcasm made you fall in hysterics? Far it seemed. Too far.

You angrily wiped the tears away from your burning skin and crossed your arms over your chest. The hoodie you had stolen from him earlier that day felt like sandpaper against your skin as opposed to the comfort you’d initially felt when slipping over your head and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to it.

You felt him shift on the couch to face you fully, out of the corner of your eye, you could see his features had turned worried, alarmed even but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him nor care. Too little too late.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the still air like a wrong note played in a symphony. It made your head spin and ache.

You didn’t dare speak. It would only give away how truly hurt you were by his words and actions. You didn’t want to be around him anymore.

Abruptly, you stood up and yanked the hoodie from your body. The tank you had on pulled up slightly showing the skin of your belly. It was lopsided, you noted when you looked down and saw that one side was pulled over and under your bra and the other was too high on your chest but you didn’t really care.

Yoongi watched you with conflict evident in his eyes, if only you would turn to see. He hadn’t meant to offend you. He’d only been trying to keep you at arms length. You had also been going out with multiple guys, telling him how good looking and tall they all were. Most of these men were also built like rocks and he himself was toned at best. Contrary to what you thought, Yoongi had come to the realization that he’d been in love with you since you were kids. He did not tolerate when anyone made you feel like shit, and, being a very mature kid, he’d told his mother quite early on that he would marry you someday. Of course, she’d only chastised him and told him that he couldn’t possibly know what love was nor could he force you to marry him, but he was adamant.

He’d stopped telling her about it after that though, and instead of telling you how he felt, he’d opted instead to watch over you and make sure nothing happened. So when in high school, you had started to date and it had not been him whom you had chosen, he’d made sure to keep the sorry excuse of a man you had chosen in line. That was… until the incident.

Yoongi would never forgive himself for not being there. For not stopping the bastard who thought he owned you. He’d never forgive the idiot either and if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him with his bare fists then stuffed his own socks in his mouth.

It was then that Yoongi realized that you deserved better than him, and at the same time, no one was worthy of you. It was a strange dynamic. He’d never once approved of your dates, but had decided to start dating other women because, let's face it, he was a guy and he’d like to have children someday but not even in his wildest dreams could he think that you would ever settle for him. Someone who’d failed you as your self imposed protector.

Not that you knew any of that. You didn’t know that Yoongi often teamed up with your other best friend, your girl best friend to scope out your dates once you’d left. You’d almost caught them once as well and it had been by pure luck and the hair of a very out of place clown that both of them had escaped your wrath that night. You also didn’t notice that after you had fully broken up with that first asshole, he’d threatened to beat him to a pulp if he so much as breathed in your direction once more and later, he’d threatened ‘asshole’ two and three with the same things.

But then your dates had gotten taller and stronger and much harder to intimidate. He’d once made the mistake of threatening a casual date that you’d set up who was at least a solid half foot taller than him and he’d been laughed out of the restaurant only to find out later that the jerk had forced a kiss on you.

No, Yoongi’s days as your protector had dwindled and left him feeling half of the man he’d already thought he was and so his only defense, his only way to keep you safe- though now that he was watching tears well in your eyes he wondered what logic he’d used to justify this behavior- was to be the asshole himself and teach you how to deal with them on a first hand basis.

He hated himself for making you cry. He hated that you looked so dejected and hurt and like you never wanted to speak another word to him again. He hated that your shoulders slumped and that your pretty eyelashes were coated in wet tears and it was all on him.

“You know what,” you finally managed to say with some semblance of calm under the storm that was brewing in the irises he’d so loved, “I think we’ve grown apart a little too much. Maybe we should just- cut our losses and,” you heaved a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “stop seeing each other.”

Were you breaking up with him? How were you even going to break up with him if you weren’t even dating? Yoongi’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He had tunnel vision. All he could see was you and the way that you seemed to pull yourself up from the ground, rebuilding before his eyes.

“Stop see-what? Are you demented?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Was that all he was capable of being? Wrong. Incorrect. Inexact. Erroneous. Mistaken. He was plain stupid for the words he’d let slip but there was no taking them back now.

You let your eyes widen as you wiped more of your furiously falling tears from your skin. You turned to face him, your shirt fixed and covering you exactly how it should and your features set and intentional.

“What’s the point? You clearly don’t want to be around me anymore and I’m tired of being berated every time I mention a guy. You’re the most unsupportive friend I have and that’s because I’ve known you the longest. If you don’t want to be my friend just say so instead of slut shaming me and bullying me every chance you get you asshat.”

“Asshat,” he chuckled, crossing his sleeve-covered arms over his toned chest, “real clever, Y/N. Is that all you got, kid? You never were one for words were you? Why don’t you just sock me instead?”

Oh you were considering it. He seemed so unbothered by the prospect of losing you that you realized maybe you had already lost him and hadn’t realized. You had dealt with your fair share of jerks in your life, but you had always counted on Yoongi to be your hope. He’d shown you that there were men in the world that seemed to care about women. Men who could love you even when you felt unlovable, unworthy, but here he was, proving to you once again that all men were the same evil and vile creatures, incapable of love or kindness if they weren’t getting their dicks wet.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Then you could go around saying that I’m a crazy bitch. You know what? Fuck you Min Yoongi. I hope you get well and royally fucked.” You yelled, grabbing the tote bag you’d brought over from your apartment and stomping to the door.

“Fuck you too,” he yelled, following you to the door. He caught you at the landing strip, prying on your chunky sneakers with a bit of difficulty, your house slippers, the ones he’d bought you, lay haphazardly nearby.

“And fuck all of those asshole guys you keep bringing home. Better yet, I hope you don’t fuck them.”

You turned your head up to look at him, confusion and disgust written all over your face.

“What the fuck do my dates had to do with what a fucking jerk you are?”

Choosing to ignore your question, he focused instead on your insult, “A jerk, am I? Well you’re a bitch. How do you like that?”

He didn’t know why he was insulting you. He didn’t think you were actually a bitch, but the anger on your face made him feel better.

It was followed by near instant regret as you drew yourself up to your full height and looked at him with pure venom in your gaze.

“I’m a bitch?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep his shoulders square, but you were scary when angry and he’d never fared well in fights with you.

“I’m the bitch?”

“You heard me!”

You balled your fists at your sides, your eyebrows connected in the center and your breathing was heavy. He knew better than to use the B-word.

“You’re a piece of shit.” It was low but your voice carried and hit all of the bones in his body before it hit his heart and burrowed deep in the wounds he’d stitched up but pulled open multiple times over the years that pertain only to you.

“You are a sorry excuse of a man,” you growled, pushing him by the chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noted that it felt really firm and stronger than before.

“You’re an ass, Min Yoongi,” you continued, giving him another push so that he stumbled slightly back into the living room of his apartment once again.

“You low life,” another push, closer to the couch, “weak minded,” you shoved him, he sidestepped the glass coffee table where your untouched coffee mugs still rested, probably cold by now, “son of a bitch, fucking baby, involved sorry excuse of a man-” He fell onto the cough. Your vision was red.

“You already used that insult.” Was all he said as you stood over him, your chest heaved with the exertion of trying to keep yourself from slapping the now blank expression from his face.

A slew of incomprehensible noises escaped from your lips as words completely left your brain. Damn him. Damn this idiot of a man that you were in love with. He could go to hell for all you cared and you hoped that the devil himself ripped his testicles off and served them on a platter with some kimchi and fried rice.

“Okay first of all- ow,” The asshole said, pulling you back to reality and not your fictitious rework where Yoongi was now sitting at the end of a long table being force fed his own balls, “And second…”

You held your breath. Fear ran down your spine. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud-

“You-you’re in love with me?”

Well… he got his wish, you were royally fucked. Instantly, you tried to back track. Your mind kept replaying in your head what you had said and tried to correct itself but you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly absolve you.

“Like a brother,” you said finally, your voice shaky and thin.

Yoongi only blinked up at you. What you said was bullshit and he knew it. You knew it too.

“You’re in love with me… like a brother?”

“Oppa,” you clarified as if that would somehow make more sense, and it did kind of, but it didn’t absolve you at all. In fact, this only made a smile tug at his lips, his pearly teeth suddenly on display, blinding. You fought the smile that threatened to pull at yours too. It was always hard because his smile was so contagious.

Yoongi stood. He was less than an inch away from your own body. You felt small, meek. You’d misstepped this big game of chess you seemed to be playing. He was going to make fun of you. He’d never let you live it down. You liked him.

“You like me,” as if he had read your mind, he echoed your thoughts, or maybe you had spoken that out loud as well.

“No I don’t,” you argued, taking a step back just so you could have some space to breathe.

“Oh yeah you do,” Yoongi argued, his smile so wide you were sure it would hurt the muscles in his cheeks

“No,” you said again, not really thinking anything you said at this point would convince him otherwise. The son of a bitch was stubborn.

“Admit it,” he said, closing the distance between you again, his neck craned down to look directly at your face.

“I don’t like you!” You tried to take another step back but the coffee table knocked your feet out from under you. You fell onto it knocking Yoongi’s mug of coffee over. The black decaf liquid seeped into your shorts.

Yoongi’s rusty laugh was pried from his throat as he watched your face contort. He was having the time of his life, it seemed. Good for him.

“Stop laughing at me,” you groaned, your cheeks red. You were practically sweating from how feverish you felt.

It was like you hadn’t spoken. Your shorts were wet and made you feel sticky. In a fit of anger, like a child throwing a tantrum, you unbuttoned the denim and ripped them from your legs. This shut Yoongi up instantly. With the soiled fabric, you cleaned up the liquid before it fell onto the light grey carpet.

Yoongi stilled as his eyes traveled up and down your long legs.The way you were twisting, he could see the back of your left thigh up to where it met your ass- your bare ass. You were wearing a thong.

God help him, he was rapidly getting hard. He forced his eyes away from you, his walls being pulled back up at seeing you naked. Well partially so. He pushed his hands into his oversized hoodie and made sure that it covered his front. The last thing he needed was for you to see.

But then you turned and pulled your legs together, your thighs squishing attractively. What he wouldn’t give to be choked by those thighs.

“Let me wash those for you,” he said tightly, pulling a hand from his hoodie to take the soiled shorts, the hem of the fabric pulled up enough for you to see exactly what he’d been trying to hide.

Yoongi had a hard on. You weren’t sure why exactly you were surprised. You were attractive, that much you knew, but you never really expected for your best friend to see you in that way. In fact, you were pretty sure that you’d been in your underwear in front of him before and he hadn’t even given you a second glance, but there was the evidence. And God was there a lot of evidence.

Slowly, you handed him the shorts. His hand grabbed them tightly, avoiding touching any part of your hand with his. Then, after a slight pause, he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen to put the shorts into the washer.

You’d called him oppa. You rarely called him oppa and it had hypersensitized him to the word coming from your lips. Other girls called him oppa sometimes and it had no effect on him but there he was, stiff as a board and it had something to do with you calling him oppa and your state of undress. Fuck. He was fucked. So fucked.

At least he wished he could be… But no. He pushed those thoughts from his head as he threw in some nice scented soaps into the wash and clicked it to life. He shut his eyes, trying to think of anything that would drain the blood from his member- halmeoni maybe?- but your voluptuous ass kept intruding, giving his halmeoni some nice curves that messed with her wrinkled face. He shook his head once more and decided he’d just have to hide his boner until it went away, or go beat one out in the restroom really quick.

He grabbed a pair of his clean sweat pants from the drying rack to give to you, just so you would be comfortable, he told himself, not because the thought of your naked butt in them made him unspeakably horny.

But when he got back to the living room, what he found was not you, covering yourself with a pillow like he’d expected, but you, only in your thong- fuck did it have to be a thong?- and your bra. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, burring his head in his hands and turning away from you.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough that can be arranged,” you answered rather boldly. There was no way for him to know that you were quaking in fear for his rejection.

Yoongi’s dick twitched in his sweats.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as his heart beat faster. He felt like he was having a whole heart attack. He patted his chest, hoping to calm it down knowing it was useless.

Should he go for it? You had just admitted accidentally that you did have feelings for him and you were clearly propositioning him. Should he just-

He turned around, back to face you, determination paining his expression. Still on the coffee table, your legs were spread open, only covered by the thin sliver of fabric that your thong allotted. You were a little cold, but all of that melted away when you saw the way that Yoongi’s eyes roamed your exposed body, then stopped abruptly to meet your own.

He was in front of you in seconds, his longer legs carried him farther and faster than you had anticipated. Then he was pulling you to stand. You wobbled on your legs but one of his arms found its way around your waist. His free hand came up and held your jaw with two fingers on either side of your face, squishing your lips together slightly. His hot, heavy member pressed against your stomach through his sweats. He was so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the fading smell of his cologne you loved so much. All you wanted was to grind against him but you were held too tightly.

“You never know when to shut up do you?” But he didn’t let you answer. He crashed his soft lips onto yours, his hold on your jaw ached but you didn’t care. There was a passion in his kiss that you hadn’t expected, subtly dwindling to something more like tenderness, and the kiss continued. His lips dragged against yours delicately, pinching your top one with both of his. Small breaths came out of his nose, whistling softly against your cheek. You timed your breaths with his, high on the feeling of finally being kissed, coveted by him. Was it real? Was this actually happening?

Your brain suddenly caught up with your body. The rightness that came with the way he was kissing you, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to properly breathe, was like nothing you could have imagined.

The hand on your waist was drawing small circles where the elastic of your thong rested, his index finger casually hooked onto and under pulling lightly. You pressed yourself tighter than he had you against his erection. He groaned, his mouth opening and his tongue suddenly darting out to taste. He pulled your jaw open, granting himself entrance and exploring your mouth.

You moaned, a sound so sensuous and wanton that Yoongi felt that he could cum just from those sounds alone. He wanted more. He wanted you to sing his praises as he fucked into you and caressed your chest. He wanted you to drool around his cock and to have your sweet mouth wrapped tight around it. He wanted to feel you gag at his girth and he wanted to pull at your hair. But most of all, he wanted to kiss you, just like how he was at that moment. He wanted to kiss you until he’d taken your soul from your body and replaced it with his own. He wanted to kiss you until he could erase every trace of all of the men who’d hurt you and made you doubt that you were worthy and wanted. Yoongi wanted to kiss his love into you no matter how long he had to do it. If he was locked in a room with you for months, so be it.

But your hand had found its way between your bodies and was slowly coming down to his hips. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and panicked. He hadn’t gotten your consent. He hadn’t asked you if it was okay for him to kiss you or to hook his fingers on your thong. As stupid as it sounded, even to Yoongi himself, he needed to make sure that you wanted this to happen, even as your hand had found the outline of his cock and you had started to trace the outline of it over the fabric-

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you. The hand around your waist was now on your shoulder to keep you at enough distance so that his brain could function and wasn’t clouded by the horniness he was feeling.

“Wha…?” You slurred, your eyes were glazed over and your body was completely relaxed.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, fighting his every instinct to push your mouth open and have you suck on his thumb before he pushed you onto your knees to suck him off, “and I will.”

His eyelids were heavy and he was sweating slightly. He was so hard that it hurt and the circles you were drawing on his penis were not helping at keeping him at bay. He knew if he looked down, there would be a stain of precum on his sweats.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing his jaw before you nibbled and kissed down his taught neck.

“Fuck.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You licked a thick swipe up his jugular, “I want you.”

“Then admit it,” Yoongi heard himself say. He was just as surprised as you were to hear those words from his lips, “admit that you like me.”

You pulled away then, dropping both your arms in exasperation, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m in my underwear, stroking your cock and you want me to stroke your ego too? Un-fucking-believeable. You’re a dumb ass.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

“Aya, apa~” he groaned, rubbing his head, the dynamic that you were used to suddenly restored.

“Yeah? Great! I’m glad that it hurt! I hope it hurts really bad you jerk. Then maybe you’ll understand what it was like for me to listen to you go on and on about all the girls you went out with every fucking week. In fact-”

“Aya! What the fuck? Stop flicking me,” he nearly screamed, clutching the tip of his nose.

“Make me.”

Big mistake. Yoongi didn’t take your dare lightly. His eyes darkened then he leaned down and picked you up. You squeaked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to his room. His hands cupped your butt fairly comfortably, like this was something you did often. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“You think I wasn’t hurt as well?” He asked, clasping a hand around your neck and lightly pressing his fingers against your skin.

“You think I like knowing that everywhere we go, men are watching you, coveting you the way I do? You think it isn’t torture when you go out and I don’t hear from you until the next day?”

He pushed you up against his pillow. The duvet was already all messed up under your body. He was between your legs, pressing himself into your core. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him all the way inside you. He wanted nothing more than to do the same but he had to make sure you knew first.

“You think it was easy being in love with you when you wanted nothing from me but friendship?”

Your eyes softened. Yoongi was in love with you too? When?

“Since we were kids,” he answered. Again you had spoken without meaning to. “I always knew it was you, Y/N. It was only ever you.”

But something wasn’t adding up. You fought your rising feelings of elation. You wanted to understand what he was saying. If he had liked you since you were kids then why had he never asked you out? Why become the serial dater he’d become? But he’d never had a girlfriend, you reminded yourself. He’d only ever “dated” and then dropped these women. You always assumed he was screwing them all.

Yoongi became sheepish then. “I uh… I did have sex with some of them but-” and the hurt in your eyes would be enough to kill him,” it was only at the start. I thought that if i had sex with other people I’d stop chasing after you. But it didn’t work… I haven’t slept with anyone since junior year of college.”

Your eyes widened. “College?”

He nodded, his pale cheeks blushing prettily.

“They just...were never you… and then I thought if I pushed you away that would help but that only made us estranged and-”

You pushed yourself up and shut him up with a kiss. He was over thinking and you could talk about all that later.

“You’re an idiot,” you started and he rolled his eyes, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes rolled into his head and he thrust lightly into your wet center.

“Talk after?”

“As long as you want,” you agreed, already pushing at his sweats. Yoongi sat up and pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one fell swoop, then, at the speed of lightning, pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his boxers off as well and then he was naked before you. Your mouth went dry. He was big. You could tell just by looking at him that he would stretch you good and you wanted so badly for him to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Really? Cause that would be really helpful on days when I’m home alone-”

“Wha-no!”

You chuckled and lay down on your back, making sure that your legs were spread wide for him to have his fill. Like a moth to a flame, he was between your thighs, his tongue licking at the wet fabric.

He moaned against your covered lips, sucking up the arousal that clung to your underwear.

“Fuck, Yoongi yes,” you said without meaning to say much at all. You unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room. You could look for it later. This caught his attention. He thrust his naked dick into the mattress, needing some sort of stimulation.

“Damn it… fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate to be inside you, I swear I could get you off with just my mouth all day, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off, gesturing for him to come up to your face, he did so without question, “Hurry up, I’m dying. Please.”

“Are you begging?” Yoongi’s lips curled lightly, teasingly,

“Do you want to get your dick wet or not?” He kissed the wrinkle between your eyebrows lightly.

“Yeah, can I take these off?” he hooked a finger on the elastic of your thong, pulling it a little higher than he probably should have. It was an old pair. You heard rather than saw the stitching on it pull apart and then the thing was hanging limply from Yoongi’s fingers, his expression shocked.

“Yoongi!”

“What? I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“For fuck’s sake! That was my favorite thong!”

“Well, clearly it was cheap,” he countered, throwing it across the room somewhere too.

You groaned, shifting slightly under him. His dick nuzzled between your wet lips. His mouth dropped open and a pleasured grunt escaped his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rut against your wetness, hitting your clit lightly, far too lightly, “you are so wet. God, this should be illegal.”

“Y-Yoongi… more,” he reached down between you two and found your sensitive nub without much hassle. It was like he knew your body already. Your body twitched under him and he circled the bundle of nerves for a couple of seconds. The noises falling from your lips were heaven on earth and Yoongi realized you were his new favorite song.

He gave your clit one rough stroke, ripping a small gasp from your throat. He gathered some of your slick with two practiced fingers and brought it up to eye level. It caught the low light of his room from the window, the smell enough to threaten to send him over the edge.

“Jesus Christ that’s hot.” Then he smeared it all over his penis and gave himself two rough pumps.

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking-”

“Don’t care. Just do it. Yes.” You said angrily, pulling him closer and closer, his toned chest flush against yours.

“Have you been working out?” You asked, breaking the intense way he was staring into your eyes, his smile pulled wide over his gums.

He shrugged but clearly was glad that you’d noticed, “Namjoon and Jungkook convinced me to join them in the gym. It’s no big deal.”

“But your arms,” you complimented, squeezing his bicep. He flexed it lightly for you. You blushed when you realized exactly what you were doing.

“It’s just a little muscle,” he commented offhandedly.

The conversation lulled, he smiled down at you, and you up at him. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“So can I put it i-”

“I already said yes.”

“In your ass?”

“Ew no!”

Yoongi laughed loudly, “see this is why you can’t say yes to something without knowing what you’re agreeing to.”

“Shut up and put it in the right hole,” you groaned, then for good measure, “oppa.” It was a joke. You thought it was a joke, but something lit up in his pupils as two measly syllables rolled off your tongue and hit his eardrums. You felt his skin prickle under your touch and his member twitched against your folds.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you looked up at the handsome man. His eyes had narrowed as well as darkened. He looked absolutely ravenous and you wanted him to eat you up.

“Say that again.” He commanded as he pushed the head of his massive, and now that you could properly feel it, you knew that you had been right, cock at the entrance of your lower lips.

“O-oppa?” you questioned, astounded that the simple word that he’d no doubt heard his whole life had this effect on him.

“That’s right yeo-chin,” he growled, his voice gruff and harsh as he pushed lightly into you. His dick opened you painfully, perfectly.

“Yeo-chin?” You ask through the explosion of pleasure between your thighs.

“Is that okay?” He asked, suddenly looking really vulnerable and scared. You reached up, stroking his cheek lightly with your knuckles.

“Oh honey,” you trailed off, bumping his nose against yours before you pulled back abruptly, “If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me properly.”

Yoongi sighed, his smile telling you he expected as much and wasn’t hurt, “Talk after?” He asked again.

“As much as you want,” you reiterated.

And then he was pushing into you once again, surprising you because you could have sworn you had been full before but inch after inch, he pushed into your awaiting hole, filling all the emptiness you’d felt your whole life until his balls tapped your ass softly.

His face was contorted in pure ecstasy. At least from your perspective. Yoongi, in all truth, was trying his hardest not to blow his load into you already. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was inside you. He’d waited his whole life for this and he was finally inside you.

You wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and playfully licked his lips. He grunted against you, holding himself up by the forearms. Suddenly, he was really grateful that he had started to work out and that Jungkook had him doing three minute planks for fun. He’d have to thank him later, even if he did complain a whole lot.

“Can-can I move?” Yoongi gasped. Your walls fluttered around his member as if welcoming it home with soft caresses. You were so warm, maybe hot, he wasn’t sure, but you were tight and wet and all the good things in the world.

You only breathed, feeling so unbelievably full. It felt like he had pushed in all the way to your throat. You were no size queen, really, you weren’t, but if this is what they were going on about, you understood.

“Y/N,” he panted, his body begging him to move, “please.”

“Are-are you begging?” You giggled mirroring what he’d asked you before.

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he admitted, “Please… please…”

Well fuck. How could you say no? You nodded fervently, all mirth erased from your expression as he pulled out slowly, your juices squelched as your lower muscles tried to keep him in.

“Gah- ash-Y/N… you’re so tight.”

You only moaned in response, the head of his cock was still in you, stretching you to the point you didn’t think anyone could fully make you feel this way again.

“You’re so big,” you complimented scratching at his back. His muscles rippled under your touch.

He pushed back in, still torturously slow. It felt like you were being split in half. You felt like Olaf in the first frozen movie after he got stabbed by an icicle.

“Yoongi,” you gasped as he pulled out again at the same speed, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Oppa,” he growled into your ear, kissing roughly at your skin.

“Oppa,” you agreed, though it wasn’t your favorite word, he seemed to be getting of fairly

well so you let it slide, “move faster.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, knowing it was probably going to hurt but you wanted to feel him and you wanted him to cum.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told again; he drew back, once again leaving only the mushroom tip inside you once again, and then he thrust. Hard. You nearly choked as he pumped himself over and over again hitting the nerves in your vagina. The slap of skin against yours was loud in the empty room, only accompanied by your moans and his pants and grunts. Your names mixed in every once in a while, your lips kissing any and all the skin that you could possibly reach. He licked at your lips and sucked bruises onto your neck, your chest. He wanted to mark all of you. He wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to… as soon as he asked you right after he finished up.

This idea itself spurred him on, to thrust faster, deeper. He wanted to finish and make sure that you finished too, not quickly but soon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to make sure that you were in the same place.

So he reached between you both again, his fingers blindly found your clitoris and began to rub abstract shapes into it. Your back arched off the bed, your hair and boobs bounced with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. You were seeing white, your mouth wide open in a silent ‘o’. You were so close. So so close.

“Come, Yeo-chin,” he whispered against your temple, and though you weren’t technically his, the title sent you over the edge along with his fingers and the deep thrusts that hit your cervix.

“Oppa,” you groaned, your face screwed up.

That did it for Yoongi. His fingers on your clit stuttered along with his hips. His thrusts became erratic and he hit the sides of your walls. You squeezed around him as he over stimulated you through your orgasm.

“One more time… say it one more time,” he begged.

You complied, whispering it into his ear, it was cut slightly by a particularly pleasurable thrust. Yoongi felt pure euphoria fill his blood as his hips paused, then buried deep into your hole. Ropes of hot cum shot into you, filling you.

Yoongi panted heavily over you, his head resting on your shoulder as he struggled to keep himself up. You were breathing heavily as well, your nipples brushed against his chest. You were sensitive. You hissed.

“You can lay down,” the words had barely left your lips before he had let his weight settle on top of you. A smile crossed your face as his hands tangled in your hair and stroked it lightly. You wrapped him up in a hug, wanting him to stay like this for a while. It was nice to feel him so close.

After a couple of minutes of both of you just recovering and your breathing getting much harder, like a wrestler, you tapped Yoongi twice.

“I’m out,” you joked, “can’t breathe.”

With what looked like a lot of effort, he pushed himself up and off you, pulling out of your suddenly. The cum inside of your vagina gushed out.

You made a face as you felt it drip onto his sheets. Yoongi watched it ooze out of you, not really caring where it was going. He looked mesmerized. He reached out as if to swipe at the cum on your lower lips but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“We talk now,” you sighed, a bit calmer than before but still a bit worried.

“Now?” He looked so vulnerable again, like he was a scared child. He lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He looked down at you, waiting for you to take the reins, the way you always did but this time, you didn’t know where to begin.

Yoongi cleared his throat looking around uncomfortably. When you said nothing, his mind had started to race.

“So… do you… want to be my girlfriend, or are we friends with benefits level right now? Ow!”

You’d smacked his shoulder, not hard at all but he was dramatic and you knew that. He frowned at you, his lips tempting you into another kiss that could lead to something more once again. You were already feeling a little turned on again just looking at the results of his recent gym trips.

“So no to yeo-chin then?”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t you mean Oppa?”

You smiled up at him, a teasing glint in your gaze, “I didn’t know you had an oppa kink. This whole time, I was right to refuse to call you oppa. I knew you looked way too happy whenever I called you that!”

Yoongi scrunched his nose and looked away, “I don’t! It’s just… when you say it.” He admitted waving a hand as if to bat away your inquisitive and teasing stare.

Not really knowing how to answer that, you chose instead to answer his previous question.

“Nam-chin,” you ran a finger down the center of his pecks, tracing all the light visible muscles that made you want to get off on just riding his chest. Yoongi tensed under your touch. He seemed frozen.

“Did you just call me nam-chin?” You, for once, were not embarrassed. You smiled brightly, happy that the title finally had a head to sit on.

“Is that okay?”

Yoongi pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his heart beat erratically in his chest, singing to yours. To its credit, your heart synced and harmonized almost instantly. He smelled like pure sex and fresh water. He buried your face into his bare skin, listening to his song. After all these years, after all the tiptoeing and fear, you were finally where you belonged.

“Of course it is,” he paused, kissing the top of your head a couple of times, “yeo-chin.” This time, the word made a shiver roll down your spine. Arousal began to pool between your sticky thighs once more and if the third leg on your stomach was anything to go by, he was as well.

“Can- can we take a shower?” you asked him, biting your lips and pushing your chest against his suggestively.

He smirked, his mouth watered at the thought of taking you in the shower. He could almost hear your moans echoing in his wet room as he sat you down and ate you out until the water ran cold. Easy clean up even.

“Yes.” he breathed, connecting his lips to yours. You kissed for a while, your lips meshing together lovingly. Yoongi was a good kisser, you realized. He was a good lay as well. And he was cute to boot. Suddenly, he pulled away and picked you up bridal style and walked you to his restroom. He once again kicked the door open to avoid using his hands and walked you through, but this time instead of throwing you down, he set you on the toilet, him on his knees between your pushed open legs.

“I hope you don’t have any plans,” he said, kissing up your thighs and pulling you close to the edge, “because I have all the time in the world and I’m really, really thirsty.”

He ran two fingers over your abused center, collecting his cum and your new arousal. Sure, there were still a lot of things to talk about between you two. Yoongi still wasn’t sure if you fully understood the depth of his feelings nor was he sure if you simply liked him and the slip of the L-word was nothing more than that. A slip. But like he’d said, he had all the time in the world to ask and all the time to make sure he earned you and your trust. He would do anything he could to prove it and some day he would be.

But for now, he was royally fucked by the sinful sounds that escaped your pretty lips and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy.

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Masterlist -in case you want to read more....

I hope yall enjoyed it and that this is a good come back after our roast session from permission to dance:)

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