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#swallow H 93
oledavyjones · 3 months
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The handsome (British) coaster or trawler Swallow, identification code H97. Does anyone know what homeport that refers to? Hull perhaps?
The picture was forund at pinterest. Looks like 1920s.
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chemwhat · 1 year
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Amino-PEG8-acid CAS#: 756526-04-2
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IdentificationPhysical DataSpectraRoute of Synthesis (ROS)Safety and HazardsOther Data Identification Product NameAmino-PEG8-acidIUPAC Name3-ethoxy]ethoxy]ethoxy]ethoxy]ethoxy]ethoxy]propanoic acid Molecular StructureCAS Registry Number 756526-04-2EINECS NumberMDL NumberMFCD11041146SynonymsAmino-PEG8-Acid756526-04-2NH2-PEG8-COOHH2N-PEG8-CH2CH2COOHAmino-PEG8-COOHNH2-PEG9-acid1-AMINO-3,6,9,12,15,18,21,24-OCTAOXAHEPTACOSAN-27-OIC ACIDMFCD11041146alpha-amine-omega-propionic acid octaethylene glycolAmine-PEG8-COOHH2N-Dpeg(8)-coohAmino-dPEG(R)8-acidSCHEMBL1578111DTXSID90120035727-Amino-4,7,10,13,16,19,22,25-octaoxaheptacosanoic acidZINC83253934AKOS030213465GS-9370Molecular FormulaC19H39NO10Molecular Weight441.5InChIInChI=1S/C19H39NO10/c20-2-4-24-6-8-26-10-12-28-14-16-30-18-17-29-15-13-27-11-9-25-7-5-23-3-1-19(21)22/h1-18,20H2,(H,21,22)  InChI KeyYLKOHZCQTVYVDB-UHFFFAOYSA-N  Canonical SMILESC(COCCOCCOCCOCCOCCOCCOCCOCCN)C(=O)O   Patent InformationPatent IDTitlePublication DateUS2022/153683METHOD FOR PRODUCING HETERO-TYPE MONODISPERSE POLYETHYLENE GLYCOL DERIVATIVE2020CN107235848A-amido glycol propionic acid preparation method (by machine translation)2017 US2013/296539MAGNETIC RESONANCE IMAGING AGENTS FOR CALCIFICATION2013 Physical Data AppearanceWaxy solid Spectra Description (NMR Spectroscopy)Nucleus (NMR Spectroscopy)Solvents (NMR Spectroscopy)Temperature (NMR Spectroscopy), °C Frequency (NMR Spectroscopy), MHzChemical shifts1HCD3ODChemical shifts, Spectrum1Hchloroform-d1200Chemical shifts, Spectrum13Cchloroform-d150Chemical shifts1Hchloroform-d1400 Amino-PEG8-acid CAS#: 756526-04-2 HNMR Route of Synthesis (ROS) Route of Synthesis (ROS) of Amino-PEG8-acid CAS 756526-04-2 ConditionsYieldWith palladium 10% on activated carbon; hydrogen In ethanol at 20℃; under 750.075 Torr; for 16h;93%Experimental ProcedureGeneral procedure: To a solution of the appropriate azido compound s10a-c (1 eq.) in absolute ethanol, 10% Pd/C (0.05 eq) wasadded. The suspension was degassed under vacuum and purged with hydrogen three times then stirred at roomtemperature under hydrogen atmosphere (1 bar) for 16 h. The reaction mixture was filtered through a pad ofCelite 545, the filtrate was evaporated under reduced pressure to afford the expected compounds 5a-c whichwas engaged in the next step without further purification. Safety and Hazards Pictogram(s)SignalWarningGHS Hazard StatementsH302 (100%): Harmful if swallowed H315 (100%): Causes skin irritation H319 (100%): Causes serious eye irritation H335 (100%): May cause respiratory irritation Precautionary Statement CodesP261, P264, P264+P265, P270, P271, P280, P301+P317, P302+P352, P304+P340, P305+P351+P338, P319, P321, P330, P332+P317, P337+P317, P362+P364, P403+P233, P405, and P501(The corresponding statement to each P-code can be found at the GHS Classification page.) Other Data TransportationUnder the room temperature and away from lightHS CodeStorageUnder the room temperature and away from lightShelf Life1 yearMarket Price DruglikenessLipinski rules componentMolecular Weight441.519logP-2.546HBA11HBD2Matching Lipinski Rules3Veber rules componentPolar Surface Area (PSA)137.16Rotatable Bond (RotB)26Matching Veber Rules1 Toxicity/Safety PharmacologyQuantitative Results Use PatternAmino-PEG8-acid CAS#: 756526-04-2 is a polyethylene glycol (PEG) linker to facilitate antibody-drug conjugate (ADC) development projects. Read the full article
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blasetober day 22: heist.
season 23, day 93.
the thing is this: lorcan smaht (or l-rca- -m-h-, if you prefer) is scattered.
the thing, as well, is this: in eir universe, before ey was sent here, lorcan had never been elsewhere before. ey had never performed the role of undertaker, never dove in after anyone else to flip them negative. ey died before ey got the chance to.
lorcan thinks that being scattered might be worse than being incinerated, but it is a near thing. the physical effects of scattering are more lasting, a fog in lorcan’s brain that ey can’t shake. a seasickness in eir stomach that makes every step feel like one taken on the deck of a rolling boat. lorcan spends most of eir free time lying in bed, or sitting on the bench in the crabs dugout with eir head in eir hands, trying desperately to feel grounded.
being incinerated hurt less. only hurt for a minute, really. but three days ago in charleston, lorcan watched gunther o’brian burn on the field, and ey could swear that the scar on eir back came flaring back to life with white hot pain. the flash of the fire still feels seared into eir eyelids. ey can’t sleep at night without staring at the ceiling - dwelling on those screams in the choux, the dark halo of instability crackling around kaz’s antennae.
the instability passed right away. it was day 90. but lorcan knows it might not pass so easily the next time. not with the way the league has been buzzing about debt, about the exhibition game to come, about firewalkers. eir mind turns the problem over and over in every spare moment ey has, and it makes em about as sick as the scattering does. ey sits on the bench and bounces eir leg and looks away every time silvaire hits the ball, flinching, anticipating the worst. it sucks.
“i’m gonna get some air,” ey says at the top of the fourth, and gets up from the bench.
axel eyes em warily - or lorcan thinks he does. hard to tell, with the blindfold and all.
“do you want company?” he asks.
“uh, no,” lorcan says. “i’m good. i’ll be right back.”
ey’s gone before he can ask em anything else, slipping sideways into one of the many artery-tunnels of the crabitat, trailing a hand along the warm carapace. ey’s never been a big believer in the life of this place, never been one to talk to it like bertie and robbins do, but ey can feel the walls of the tunnel thrumming with energy under eir hand, and - maybe it’s worth a shot. let it not be said that lorcan smaht won’t try anything once.
“hey,” ey says, into the darkness. “uh, hi. i know we don’t - talk? but i - i’m scared. like, more than usual. i, um -”
ey swallows, and looks over eir shoulder. turns down a side passageway and starts to speak a little quieter, just in case. feels the walls, to make sure none of axel’s eyes can see em here.
“i don’t want to die,” ey says. eir voice is very small, barely a whisper. “again, i mean. i - i can’t do that. i’m sorry.”
there’s a pinprick of light at the end of this passage, though lorcan doesn’t know the tunnels well enough to know exactly where this one will spit em out. ey hears voices, boisterous ones punctuated with loud laughter, and follows them.
the tunnel ends in a knee-high, circular window into the away dugout, under the benches currently occupied by the pies. lorcan peers through it. ey sees mostly cleats, both static and pacing, some discarded bats, gloves, caps, and - there. within arm’s reach. something else.
something important. a corked glass bottle that shakes against the ground with the force of the liquid inside of it. a bottle that glows the faint blue color that lorcan recognizes as the mark of something fireproof. maybe it’s optimistic to feel like this is an answer to eir plea, but lorcan is nothing if not an optimist.
“sorry,” ey whispers, bending to stick eir arm through the window. “i’m - sorry.”
ey knows ey’s removing the protection from whoever this bottle is supposed to belong to. ey knows they won’t hear the apology. but it makes the guilt in eir stomach, the sickness of committing a purely selfish act, settle a little.
the bottle vibrates in eir hand, the liquid inside throwing itself against the sides as lorcan holds the potion close to eir chest. eir hands are shaking, too. maybe it’s the scattering, or maybe it’s the adrenaline. ey has to hold the bottle between both of eir palms to transport it unshattered, cupping it like a secret, fingertips leaving sweaty prints on the glass.
when ey stumbles back into the crabs dugout, everyone is staring at em.
“what?” lorcan asks, eir voice tinged with crackling radio static. oh. that’s new.
“lorcan,” pedro says, careful, a man treading on cracked glass. “what did you do?”
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yyh4ever · 3 years
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Togashi’s Comments from the Table of Contents (1990-1994)
WSJ #45 (1992) to WSJ #1 (1993)
Volume 11: Chapters 92 to 100
ᐊ Volume 10: Chapters 82 to 91     Volume 12: Chapters 101 to 109 ᐅ
1992
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°45 (October 26, 1992)
★ Chapter 92. "The Day Before the Storm!!" (嵐の前!!, Arashi no Mae!!)
*Part 3 of Togashi’s 4-koma about the Dark Tournament Teams. This time, it’s about Team Mashoutsukai. For translation, check: H☆S Award - Special Advice from Yoshihiro Togashi* ▼
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Chapter opening: “I’ve been in trouble, whose fault is it...?” ▼
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 Table of Contents:
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"Thank you all for the many letters. It's hard to write back to you, but I have read and kept all of them. I'm grateful." - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 沢山の手紙有難う。返事はなかなか書けませんが全て読んで保管しています。感謝。〈義博〉
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°46 (November 2, 1992)
★ Chapter 93. "Leveling Up! Rules" (レベルアップ!, Reberuappu!)
*Part 4 of Togashi’s 4-koma about the Dark Tournament Teams. This time, it’s about Team Uraotogi. For translation, check: H☆S Award - Special Advice from Yoshihiro Togashi* ▼
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*Anime promo has been appearing at the beginning of the chapters: "Every Saturday at 18:30 ~ TV animation is on the air on Fuji TV Network!!"*
Chapter Opening: “The battle of the century begins!!” ▼
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Table of Contents:
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"I was riding my bicycle and when I looked away, I hit my knee against a guardrail. Daaamn guardrails, get outta the way!" - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 自転車のよそ見運転でガードレールにひざ打った。ガードレールてめェよけろよ! 〈義博〉
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°47 (November 9, 1992)
★ Chapter 94 (Intro Color). "The Rules Rule!!" (ルールの壁!!, Rūru no Kabe!!)
*Final part of Togashi’s 4-koma about the Dark Tournament Teams. This time, it’s Team Toguro. For translation, check: H☆S Award - Special Advice from Yoshihiro Togashi* ▼
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*Lead pages in part-color*
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Table of Contents:
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"This is a new record. I went to the bathroom 33 times in a day. Don't take strong medicines on an empty stomach." - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 新記録です。1日 で33回トイレに行きました。すきっ腹に強い薬は、やめましょう。〈義博〉
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°48 (November 16, 1992)
★ Chapter 95. "The Invisible Feat!!" (見えない技!!, Mienai Waza!!)
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Table of Contents:
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"Wake up Araki and destroy everything ♪ This song is dedicated to manager Nomura by a Hanshin fan" - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 荒木を起こしてすべてをこーわすの♪ この唄を一阪神ファンより野村監督にささげます。〈義博〉
T/N: Araki refers to the baseball pitcher Daisuke Araki. After being away for approximately 4 years due to injuries, he came back at the end of the 1992 season and helped the Yakult Swallows win the league championship after 14 years without winning a league title. Manager Nomura refers to the then supervisor of the Yakult Swallows team, Katsuya Nomura.
The song Togashi is singing is a reference to the famous hit "Arashi no Sugao" (The True Face of the Storm) by Shizuka Kudo, released in 1989. The beginning of the song says: "Wake up a storm and destroy everything…"
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°49 (November 23, 1992)
★ Chapter 96. "An Exchange of One-upmanship!!" (秘技応酬!!, Higi Ōshū!!)
Table of Contents:
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"For the first time in two years, I finished a manuscript by myself. 19 pages in two and a half days was really tough. I'm dead." - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 2年振りに、1人きりで原稿を上げた。2日半で19Pは、さすがにきつくて死んだ。〈義博〉
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°50 (November 30, 1992)
★ Chapter 97. "Sacrifice...!!" (身を捨てて・・・!!, Mi o Sutete...!!)
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Table of Contents:
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"In V JUMP's 'Yu Yu Anime Special Feature' on sale now, the secret story of the birth of Yusuke and his friends is revealed for the first time. If you're interested, take a look." - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 発売中のVJの幽遊アニメ特集で、幽助達の誕生秘話を初公開。興味ある人は見てね 〈義博〉
T/N: Some of Togashi's mini interviews revealing "Yu Yu secret stories" to V JUMP magazine can be read here: "Togashi-sensei talks about Yu Yu" (V-JUMP, 1992-93)."
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°51 (December 7, 1992)
★ Chapter 98. "The Reason Behind the Armor!!" (鎧の理由!!, Yoroi no Riyū!!)
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Table of Contents:
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"My bicycle stolen in Ogikubo seems to have been found in Tachikawa. It was goddamn used by an unspecified number of people." - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 荻窪で盗まれた自転車が立川で発見されたそうだ。不特定多数が利用しやがったな。〈義博〉
T/N: Tachikawa is a city located in the western portion of Tokyo. Ogikubo, where Togashi worked and lived at the time, is a residential area of Tokyo, in Suginami City, also located in the western part of the ward area of Tokyo, approximately 30 km away from Tachikawa City.
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°52 (December 14, 1992)
★ Chapter 99. "Eat or be Eaten!!" (喰うか喰われるか!!, Kuu Ka Kuwareruka!!)
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Table of Contents:
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"In judging the awards, I saw many works. Considering your age, you guys are too good. I'm a little bit anxious." - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 賞の審査で多数の作品を見た。年齢から考えると君達うますぎる。ちょっぴりあせる〈義博〉
T/N: Togashi is talking about the Hop Step Award - H☆S. He was one of the judges of this edition and wrote some advice to the participants. Read: H☆S Award - Special Advice from Yoshihiro Togashi.
1993
➤ Weekly Shounen Jump N°1 (January 1, 1993)
★ Chapter 100. "Kuwabara Snaps!!" (桑原切れた!!, Kuwabara Kireta!!)
*Yu Yu Hakusho is on the cover of this issue. 1993 was also the year of the 25th Anniversary of the magazine, announced on the cover: "25th Anniversary Appreciation Year starts".*
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*This issue also announced the results of the 10th Hop Step Awards (1992). Togashi was the judge of this edition. (photos by @katsura_00)*
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Table of Contents:
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"In addition, the bicycle that was stolen a year ago was found in Imagawa. Gori-san, head straight to the crime scene immediately!" - Yoshihiro
🇯🇵 さらに一年前盗まれた自転車が、今川で発見。ゴリさん早速現場へ直行してくれ!〈義博〉
T/N: Detective Makoto Ishizuka, known as "Gori-san", is from the television detective series "Taiyou ni Hoero" (Roar at the Sun), which ran from 1972 to 1986. He is called by the nickname "Gori-san", short for gorilla, because of his tough personality.
Imagawa is a neighborhood from the Iogi Area, in Suginami City. Ogikubo, where Togashi's apartment and workplace were located at the time, is also a neighborhood from the Iogi Area.
*On April 2, 1993, Volume 11 (Chapters 92 to 100) was published!*
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▼ Togashi’s comment from the dust jacket of volume 11. Translation by VIZ Media. 
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ᐊ Volume 10: Chapters 82 to 91     Volume 12: Chapters 101 to 109 ᐅ
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blackhakumen · 3 years
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Mini Fanfic #787: Seeing Father Again......(Super Smash Bros Ultimate)
4:27 p.m. at Chun-Li's Hometown's Cemetery.......
Samus: (Looks Down at the Gravestone in Front of Her) Is that him down here?
Chun-Li: (Smiles Brightly) Yep.
Here Lies Dorai-Li. A Mindful Master, Courageous Officer, and Loving Father of One.
Chun-Li: Dorai-Li. One of the best police officers Hong Kong has to offer.
Samus: You don't say? (Puts on a Impressed Smirk on her Face) He sounds like a badass already.
Chun-Li: (Giggles Softly at her Girlfriend) In a way, yeah. He worked hard everyday to deliver justice and protect almost everyone in this town. He's also the main reason why I became an Interpol Agent growing up.
Samus: Neat. Did he used to train you in the field?
Chun-Li: Yeah, but he mostly taught me how to defend myself in Traditional Martial Arts way before I met Gen. (Turns to Back to Samus) Who was also my mentor by the way. Never heard much from him as of late now that I think about it.....
Samus: Ah. Gotcha. So.....(Starts Nervously Rubbing the Back of Her Head Back and Forth) Uh.....That Bison you told me about.....He really killed your dad?
Chun-Li: (Eyes Widened a Little Before Frowning Sadly) ('Sigh') Yeah. (Turns Back to her Father's Gravestone) He was assigned to do a investigation on Shadaloo's base on the night that I can remember. It.... wasn't long before they announced that he was assassinated on the spot.....Reports even said that he was given a fatal blow to middle part of the body and everything.....
Samus: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Oh God......
Chun-Li: Yeah. I was really broken up about it during all of that....So much so to the point that it made me dedicate my whole life into getting back at Bison and every single member of that damn organization for what they've done to him and everyone else that lost their lives to them. With.... little to....no success along the way....
Samus: (Gently Place her Hand onto Chun-Li's Shoulder) Chun....I...I had no idea..... Your father seems like a really great man and..... I'm so sorry.....
Chun-Li: (Turns Back to Samus with a Sad, but Reassuring Smile on her Face While Placing her Hand on top of Hers) Sammy, don't be. It's okay. With the help of Ryu and all other allies we've made years later, we finally managed to put Bison and Shadaloo down for good. It was a long time coming, but at least we can rest easy now knowing that they won't try and ruin anymore lives ever again. (Turns Back to her Father's Gravestone) And my father's already in a better place now. A place where he can be at peace and....('Sniff') a-and....Where....('Sniff') No one.....('Sniff') Or anything could EVER hurt him again......
Before Samus could a single word, she noticed Chun-Li suddenly slouches herself down on her knees.
Samus: H-Hey! (Kneel Herself Down to Chun-Li's Level) What happened!? A-Are you okay?
Chun-Li: (Slowly Turns Back to Samus With Tears and Complete Sadness in her Eyes) G-Gomenasai....('Sniff') I didn't mean....('Sniff') To make you worry....('Sniff') This is just.....('Sniff') A-All too much to handle....('Sniff') Y-You know?
Samus: (Immediately Starts Feeling Bad for her Girlfriend) You really miss him a lot, do you?
Chun-Li: ('Sniff') I know he's in a better place....('Sniff') And I know he's happier there.....('Sniff') But I CAN'T. HELP IT!!! ('Sniff') He meant the world to me! He was my best friend! I wouldn't even be the woman I am right now if it weren't him! ('Sniff') He was living the best life that he ever could for himself! And then that BASTARD Bison had to go in and ruined ALL OF THAT FOR HIM!! And it's just..... ('Sniff') It's not fair.....('Sniff') It's not fair. It's not fair! IT'S NOT FAI-
Before Chun-Li could finish speaking, she immediately gets pulled into a hug loving by Samus.
Chun-Li: (Slowly Turns to Samus Hugging Her) S-S-Sammy.... What-
Samus: ('Shh Shh Shh') It's okay. I understand how you feel completely. Losing those you considered family.....Blood related or not..... It's a really hard pill to swallow....Even more so nowadays.....So if you ever need a shoulder to cry on....(Gives Chun-Li a Soft, Supportive Look on her Face) I'll always be here for you to very end. That's a promise.
Chun-Li: (Almost at a Loss of Words) S-S-Samus.....I....I......I....... WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! (Finally Begins to Burst Out Crying as She Hugs Samus Back)
Samus: (Snuggles onto the Crying Woman) That's it. Let it all out for me. It's okay.
And with that, Chun-Li continues to cry her eyes out in Samus' arms for as long as she needs to.
Few Minutes Later........
Chun-Li: (Being Carried in Samus' Arms in a Bridal Carried Fashion) Sammy, are you sure you want to carry me the whole way back? You've already done so much for me as it is.
Samus: (Smiles Softly While Carrying Chun-Li and Making Their Way Out of the Cemetery) Yeah I don't mind. That crying session took a lot out of you. So I wanna make sure you don't get weak on the knees. That and.....(Gives Chun-Li a Playful, Seductive Smirk on her Face) You look pretty cute being carried like that~ (Starts Kissing Chun-Li's Cheeks)
Chun-Li: (Giggles Ticklishly by Samus' Kisses) Sammy!~ Honestly!~ I'm not that cute~
Samus: (Chuckles Lightly) Really? Could've fooled me~ (Gives her Girlfriend a Big Kiss on Top of her Nose)
Chun-Li: (Giggles Softly Once More Before Sighing Relaxingly) I can't thank you enough for this, Samus. It's been so long since I've cried like that.
Samus: Seriously?
Chun-Li: Yeah. I've always had to keep my emotions in the line, even in the line of duty. I've managed to loosen up a bit over the years, but....I'd tried my hardest not to let any sadness get the better of me. Especially when you're put on the highest of pedestals.
Samus: I get that feeling all too well.
Chun-Li: You do?
Samus: Definitely. Being fearless, a loner, showing no signs weakness. I was all things back when I was a full-fledged Bounty Hunter at the time. It took me till years later to made me realize that there's more to life being serious, cold and distant all the time. (Chuckles Lightly) Like being a Certified Mom and everything. It's a really good feeling, you know?
Chun-Li: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) I couldn't agree more. (Hugs Samus Lovely) It makes even better when I get to spend all of it with you~ (Kiss Samus on the Cheek)
Samus: (Smiles Softly at Chun-Li While Blushing) Hey. So....Since Fox is still watching over Li-Fen back at the mansion, you wanna spend the rest of day there and watch some movies together?
Chun-Li: (Smiles Brightly) I'd love that. (Rest in peace, Father. Thank you so much for everything.)
Happy Father's Day Everything
And Rest in Peace, Dad. We'll always love and miss you everyday.
@keyenuta
@caleb13frede
@26shann
@cyber-wildcat
@albion-93
@ma-lemons
@chompycroc
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freetobcubed · 3 years
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For Louis
I wrote this story for a competition. Not even an honorable mention, which I’ll be honest, is a stab in the heart because I really poured my soul into this one. Better luck next time, I guess, but here’s the story:
The notebook’s small and faded. The little thing is speckled with dust and the spine is bent to a near-ninety-degree angle except where it’s belted shut with a shoelace. I shouldn’t care; there are real books in the yard sale, books that aren’t falling apart. But I’m curious. Why bother to keep basically scraps?
I throw the thing on top of my pile of books. The eighty cents will come from the money I’ll make selling the others online. I pay for my loot and load it into the trunk of my ’93 Pontiac. I stop, snag the notebook, and tuck it into my coat with my COVID mask.
On my drive home, I get stopped at this intersection that’s seen an accident. Annoyed, but with nowhere to be, I throw the car in park and pull the little black book out. I try the knot in the shoelace with my fingernails before realizing it’s just loose enough to slide off.
Twelve hundred-dollar bills kerflumph into my lap.
I choke. My mind spins as I cough; what in the world? That’s a grand. Where—do I have to return it? How—
No, I don’t have to return it, I reason as I finish spluttering. Nervously, subconsciously, I glance at the cops in the intersection. They aren’t even aware that I exist. Besides, I paid for the notebook. It’s not my fault that that girl didn’t know.
Feeling slightly better, I open the notebook. Three more hundred-dollar bills fall out.
No way.
I flip the notebook around. Peeking out between stained pages are more bills. One per page. I do a quick calculation in my head.
“That’s twenty thousand dollars,” I say aloud, stupefied. That’s insane. Thoughts tumble through my head: riding in an airplane to Europe. Paying my overdue rent. Do I have to pay taxes on this? Amazon, and the things I saved there for “someday.” A full cart at Walmart.
Unsure what else to do, I start to read.
“June 9, 1983
Today I am a dad. I’m a dad! Louis is so small, so perfect, so… what do you say about a baby? It’s all been said before. But this is my baby. My son. He has tiny toes and he eats until it hurts Marie (and then some.) I’m looking forward to playing catch and eating burgers together, and then I stare down at the blanket-bundle and tears fill my eyes because he’s here, he’s real, and he is mine. Ours. Marie’s and mine. My boy. My son.”
“Hey!” I glance up, the words of the book and the words of the cop waving me forward blending in my brain because twenty thousand dollars is still swirling around up there too. I put the Pontiac in drive, my left hand trying to cover the fortune in my lap just in case the officer looks through the window.
I race home. I stuff the bills in my pocket, worrying about neighbors. I try to walk normally, but I feel shifty. Nervous. I run through my crappy apartment, then dump the money onto my bed, triple-checking that I’ve gotten every bit out of my pockets.
Then I flip the book, pinching the spine, and wag the pages.
A rain of cash descends to the quilt Mom made for me. Mom. Mom could use a hundred bucks. I suppress the generosity. This money is mine now, and I definitely need it. Mom will be okay.
I’m tired. I climb into the unmade bed, careful not to knock the bills onto the floor where they could vanish under the bed or the laundry, and I read again.
“July 4, 1983
Louis’ first Independence Day. He doesn’t care, except when the neighbors set off fireworks that woke him. I’m not sure if the baby or Marie was more upset, but Louis screamed more. I decided this journal is for when he graduates high school; I put a hundred dollars in the back. It’s more than we can afford, but this is our son. And I can always take the money back out, I guess. I just wanted to say: I love you, son. I’m already proud of you, and you’re just a little lump on the floor.”
Something in me twitches. I don’t think my father ever said he was proud of me, even when I was—what was it? I glance back at the page. A little lump.
“December 25, 1983
It’s been a little while since I wrote for you, son. Work has been… insane. You’re rolling now. I saved another hundred for you, tucked it in the back with the other one. I’m sorry you’re not getting much this Christmas, but we’re doing our best, and as your mom points out, you don’t care. Not this year.
January 1, 1984
Happy New Year, Louis!
You’re almost seven months old. Hard to believe. You’re nearly ready to sit on your own, and even better—your mom is getting past the baby blues. It’s nice to get my wife back. Don’t feel bad, son, but it’s been hard. I always said I wanted two kids, but now I hope you’re okay with being an only child.
If I could convince you to sleep, that would be something—though it’s nice to cuddle you in the rocking chair at night. Your mom gets you most of the time—boy, you eat a lot!—but after you’re done, I take you and we rock. Sometimes I sing. You won’t remember me singing, because I don’t do it where adults can hear, but for now, you seem to like Dad’s rusty voice. Who knows? Maybe you’re knocking yourself out so you don’t have to listen anymore. I‘d understand.”
My phone rings, and I jump, searching around for it with one hand.
“Hello?”
“Tim? It’s Grandma.” I know. But telling Grandma that won’t keep her from identifying herself on the phone or signing her texts.
“Hi,” I respond, unsure what Grandma wants.
“Are you going to come change my lightbulbs today?”
Crap. I was. Mom has been haranguing me to help Grandma, guilting me with the idea of an old lady living alone, in quarantine, in the dark. Stupid COVID—normally, Grandma’s neighbors change the lightbulbs and stuff, but she’s been insisting to Mom that I need to do it now. As if a pizza delivery guy has less germs than her work-from-home neighbor. Whatever.
“Sorry, Grandma.” I find my keys. “I’ll be over in half an hour.”
“What, dear?”
“I’ll be over in half an hour!” I all but shout into the phone. Then I hang up before she can babble at me. I look at the money; my room is private, but my roommate is nosy. I go to the kitchen and, after hunting in the cupboard, come up with an almost-empty bread bag. I hurry back to my room, eating the last slice, and stuff the money inside.
Bring it or hide it? I consider for a minute. Finally I throw the bag and the notebook into my pocket.
I climb into my car. Grandma’s house is ten minutes away and I have twenty—oops. I pull out the notebook. Suddenly, it hits me—the money was still inside. What happened to Louis? How did the yard sale lady end up with the notebook, and the twenty grand?
I check the inside front cover, find an address. Finch Drive isn’t even that far away--I verify with my GPS.
I don’t even know what I’m hoping. It’s been, what, almost forty years since Louis was born? I open the notebook again, this time to the last page.
“February 18, 1999
I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry I’m going to miss so much. Your high school graduation. Your college graduation. Your wedding, your children. I was excited. I think you were too.
And you won’t really remember who I was. I mean, we have a lot of great memories together. Lots of catch and burgers. But we’ll never have an adult-to-adult relationship, and I’m really, really sad about that.
In a selfish way, I hope you’re sad too. I hope you miss me. Is that terrible? Anyway, I guess the best I can do is leave you with some advice.
Be a good person, Louis. You’re a good kid. Take care of your mom. Heck, take care of my mom. Be smart. Be hardworking. But most of all, be kind.
I love you, kid.
-Dad
P.S. Cancer is the pits.”
I stare at the last few words. “Cancer is the pits.”
I can’t do it. I can’t leave Louis hanging. I turn the car on, head to Finch Drive. Knock.
A lady answers. She’s 60-something.
“Are you Marie? I’m sorry—I totally forgot my mask.”
“Yes, I’m Marie.”
She’s puzzled, I can see it in the top half of her face, the only part showing. Funny, I thought somehow that she‘d be blonde, like Mom.
“I found this,” I say, holding out the journal. “It belongs to Louis. From his dad.”
She gasps as she looks down, and a tear splatters onto the cover. One more spot among dozens.
“I—how—”
“And, um,” I’m not sure how to explain, so I pull the bread bag out. “This was in the pages. It’s for you. Or, for Louis.
“Is he okay? Louis?”
She nods mutely, her shaking hand moving up to take the little black notebook. She doesn’t even look at the money, just stares at the book. I realize I never replaced the shoelace.
“He’s actually here.” She turns. “Louis!” A guy pops out a second later. His hair is dark and messy, like Harry Potter’s.
“You okay, Mom?” He asks. She nods. He squints at me, like he’s trying to decide if I made his mom cry on purpose.
“Your dad wrote that for you,” I say, waving a hand at the notebook Marie clutches. “And he left this.”
“My—” Louis stops talking as he realizes that the bread bag is full of money. A bread bag full of dough, I realize silently, trying not to laugh. “My dad?”
“I found the book at a yard sale. With the money inside. I read some of it—sorry.”
“It must have been in what I donated,” Marie says with a sniffle. “This young man—” She pauses, looking at me.
“Tim,” I supply.
“Tim. You brought Dennis home to us.”
“Dennis?” I blink a few times.
“My dad,” Louis says, and I nod idiotically.
“I didn’t consider his first name—I just thought of him as “Louis’ dad.” I mutter.
“He’d have liked that.” Marie smiles under her mask.
“Well, thanks,” I say, and hold the bread bag out again.
“’Thanks’?” Louis asks. “Thank you,” He stares at the bag. “Can I give you some of that? A finder’s fee? Times are tough.”
I swallow, and it comes down hard.
“Nah,” I say, and I fake a smile.
“But—” Louis’ eyes find the Pontiac.
“I got this,” I say. “I’m alright. Besides, your dad saved that for you.”
Louis nods, takes the bag, and puts his arm around his mom.
“Thank you, Tim. Really. I wish you’d known my dad.”
“He loved you,” I say. “Read the book. You’ll see.”
Louis stares.
“I know he did,” he answers. I smile for real; Louis was lucky. I nod, uncomfortable, then turn and walk down their porch steps. I don’t hear the door close.
Maybe I’m lucky too, I realize as I get back in the car. I’ve got Mom. I’ve got Grand—
Shoot.
I pull out my phone. I’m fifteen minutes late for lightbulb duty. I hit my recent calls and start the car while the phone rings.
“Tim? Are you alright?” Grandma’s voice is strained; she’s worried.
“I’m fine. It’s a long story.”
“You can tell me about it. Maybe…” she pauses. “Maybe over lunch?”
“Sounds great, Grandma,” I say. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Thanks if you read the whole thing. It’s dumb, but I could use some Internet-stranger validation on this one. If you feel like reading it in the original doc (I get like 1/3 of a cent from the site if you do,) it’s here: https://vocal.media/stories/for-louis
All the best. Over & Out.
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hungline · 5 years
Text
i prefer waffles
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pairing: yoonjin  genre: fluff, smut, strangers to lovers au, rated e  warnings: explicit sexual content, rimming, anal sex, dirty talk, implied praise kink  words: 3242 
summary: Yoongi keeps true to his promise and shows up at Seokjin's door for dinner, an unwanted relationship discussion and, of course, the mind-blowing sex he was promised. Yoongi is a man of his word, after all, so it's good to know that Seokjin is as well.  
⇢ part two of what a spread 
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Yoongi sits awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, his hands clasped tightly together on his lap.
He can hear Seokjin humming away in the kitchen, but the sound doesn’t do much to calm him. Seokjin opens and closes cabinets loudly, glasses clinking as he pours their drinks.
Nervous doesn’t begin to cover how Yoongi feels right now. One part of him wants to get up and leave, to never think about this or Kim Seokjin ever in his life again, but a bigger and more stubborn part of him won’t let him. And maybe that part is directly tied to his dick instead of his brain, but Yoongi will never admit to that.
Either way, as much as Yoongi may want to leave, he also wants to stay and see what will happen tonight.
Their dinner had been unplanned, unprompted, and very tasteful. Seokjin had cooked it and bragged about it until Yoongi was forced to lean over and shove food into his mouth just to shut him up. Yoongi hadn’t expected to be fed when he knocked on Seokjin’s door, but the actor had whisked him inside and sat him down at the table that was already set and laden with dishes. Yoongi ate because he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and thanked Seokjin for the meal. Neither of them mentioned the reason why Yoongi was even there, but he’s pretty sure that neither of them really had to anyway. Seokjin was blushing the entire time and then suggested they sit and drink on the couch for a while as they discuss things.
What things, Yoongi doesn’t know exactly, but he’s ready to find out.
Seokjin steps out of the kitchen right then, two glasses of wine in his hands. He smiles when he spots Yoongi and passes him a glass before he sits on the couch, taking a sip of the wine as he does. Yoongi shifts in his seat, freezing when Seokjin only moves closer to him than before.
Their thighs are now pressed together and when Seokjin puts his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, he finds himself leaning into the idol actor’s chest automatically. Yoongi forces himself to relax and takes a sip of his drink, pausing when Seokjin lays the flat of his open palm over Yoongi’s heart.
“This okay?” Seokjin whispers into his ear.
Yoongi can't help but shiver in response. “It’s fine, Seokjin-ssi.”
Seokjin tsks as he leans into the sofa, adjusting them until he deems them both comfortable. “You can call me hyung. You were born in ‘93, right? I was born in ‘92.”
Yoongi blinks. “I ー um. Yeah, I was. How did ー How did you know that?”
God, he’s a mess. Someone put Yoongi out of his misery already.
Seokjin only shrugs and takes another sip of his drink. “Well, once I knew your name, it wasn’t that hard to learn whatever I could about you.”
Yoongi shifts again, this time just enough to meet Seokjin’s gaze. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I like you.”
“You like the sex with me, not me. Don’t try and fool me,” Yoongi bites out, leaning forward to place his glass on the coffee table in front of them.
Seokjin sets his glass down as well, turning and shifting on the couch until Yoongi’s legs are thrown over his lap and they are pressed tightly together again. “I’m not trying to trick you or something. I genuinely like you. And yes, the sex is also really great, but I want to go out on dates and do couple stuff with you too.”
Yoongi huffs, struggling to cross his arms over his chest without pouting as well. “But why? You don’t even know me, not really.”
“That’s what will make dating so fun. We get to learn about each other in the process. But if it’ll make you feel better, then we won’t have sex tonight and just go on that date you promised me instead.”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary. If you leave me with blue balls for that long, trust me when I say that I will make your life a living hell,” Yoongi growls, grabbing onto Seokjin’s shirt and twisting the expensive fabric around in his fists.
Seokjin chuckles and reaches out until his other hand has found its place on Yoongi’s waist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Yoongi-yah.”
Yoongi groans, thumping his head on Seokjin’s chest in annoyance. “Don’t play dumb. You practically attacked me in that closet earlier then left before any real fun could begin.”
“Sounds to me like a personal problem,” Seokjin whispers against his ear, tongue flicking out to trace its shell.
Another shiver runs down Yoongi’s spine and he sighs in defeat, shifting until he is leaning fully into Seokjin’s body. “I have literally been hard ever since. Please, stop torturing me.”
Seokjin hums, both arms now firmly wrapped around Yoongi’s lithe form. “Poor baby. I’ve been hard ever since you walked into the studio this morning. As soon as I saw you, all I could think about was the way you rode my cock and kissed me like I was the air you needed to breathe. I really was disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed, you know.”
“Why?” Yoongi asks, feeling somewhat breathless now as he awaits Seokjin’s response.
“Because I wanted to see how you would look first thing in the morning. I wanted to feed you pancakes in bed and then suck you off afterward maybe, but you were already gone,” Seokjin murmurs, catching Yoongi’s face between his hands and holding it tenderly before he continues. “Which is why I’m not going to have sex with you tonight until I know for sure that you’ll be there when I wake up. No running out on me again, Yoongi-yah.”
Yoongi bites his lip nervously. “But why can’t we just have sex without all the feelings?”
Seokjin smiles, leaning close to drop a kiss on Yoongi’s forehead. “Even if all we were was just fuckbuddies, I know that I would develop feelings for you then pine after you until god knows how long. I hate to say it, but I don’t have the time or energy for any of that, so I’d rather we do it this way instead. But I won't force you either, you can leave this second if you don’t want any of what I’m offering.”
Yoongi sighs, hating that he already had his mind made up as soon as Seokjin had jumped him earlier. “I’ll be honest, I prefer waffles.”
A grin brighter than any other greets him and before Yoongi can smile back, Seokjin’s lips are on his.
They are as soft and plush as Yoongi remembered and he can’t help but throw his arms around Seokjin’s shoulders, twisting until he’s straddling Seokjin’s thighs. Seokjin makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, something that makes Yoongi flush with pride as he parts his lips for the elder’s tongue.
Strong hands grip his waist, pulling him close then traveling downwards to squeeze his ass. Yoongi moans, the sound being swallowed by Seokjin but still loud enough to reverberate in the air around them. He presses forward until their crotches meet, hissing as his erection makes contact with Seokjin’s own.
Yoongi starts to move his hips then, more than a little desperate as he thinks about Seokjin fucking him again. Seokjin laughs as they break apart for air, both their faces flushed and breathing labored. Seokjin’s fingers harshly dig into the soft flesh of Yoongi’s ass, sending an electric shock to his cock that causes his hips to buck up against Seokjin.
He knows he’s panting by now, but Yoongi cannot find it in himself to care much after all the teasing he has had to endure in one day alone. No sane man would be unprepared by now. Yoongi, himself, is roaring to go and practically coming apart at the seams.
Seokjin must be feeling merciful because, suddenly, his hands are underneath Yoongi’s ass with Yoongi’s legs wrapped around Seokjin’s waist as he quickly makes his way towards the bedroom. Yoongi would not have minded all that much about being fucked on the couch all hard and rough, but Seokjin probably doesn’t have lube hidden somewhere in his living room either way. They make it to the bedroom in record time and Yoongi laughs as Seokjin drops him unceremoniously on the bed, bouncing on it twice before he settles.
Yoongi unbuckles his pants and kicks them off haphazardly while Seokjin digs around in his drawers. The elder returns with a bottle of lube and condom in hand, smirking when he catches sight of Yoongi struggling to get his jeans all the way off. They’re caught at his ankles and refuse to be peeled off no matter how hard Yoongi kicks at them. Seokjin drops his findings on the bed and Yoongi stills as he bends and grabs Yoongi’s ankles, easily sliding them down until he is completely free.
Yoongi grabs the hem of Seokjin’s shirt as soon as he has stood up and pulls it over his head with only a little bit of difficulty. Seokjin is smiling by the time Yoongi is letting his hands roam over his chest with no hesitance in his movements and leans down, kissing Yoongi softly.
Getting rid of the rest of their clothes is easier after that, but Yoongi finds himself hesitating for only one moment once he realizes Seokjin will be seeing him completely naked while sober. No alcohol or other excuses for Seokjin to find Yoongi attractive under this bright, clear light. Seokjin smiles at him like he knows what Yoongi is thinking and puts his hands on Yoongi’s hips before he slides Yoongi’s boxers down his legs. Yoongi settles back on the bed, still a little nervous but not enough to keep him from spreading his thighs apart on the bed. Seokjin groans at the sight, already leaking plenty of pre-come as he digs his thumbs into Yoongi’s waist, no doubt leaving bruises Yoongi will find come morning.
He doesn’t expect the elder to dive down and run his tongue over his rim, so Yoongi flushes red all the way down to his chest as he yells out. Seokjin kisses the inside of his thigh then returns to his hole, his hot, slick tongue just barely probing past Yoongi’s clenched rim. Yoongi wills himself to relax with all his might, burying his hands into Seokjin’s hair as the elder continues his ministrations.
“H-hyung!” Yoongi moans, feeling self-conscious for a short moment about crossing some kind of invisible line before he remembers Seokjin asking him to call him by the honorific earlier.
Seokjin hums between his legs, one hand pressed to the hickey he left on Yoongi’s thigh two days earlier. Yoongi’s cock is hard and curved against the soft skin of his abdomen, just begging to be touched. He reaches down to jerk himself off and downright whines when Seokjin grabs his wrist and stops him. The older man only smiles up at him and pulls his face back, grabbing the lube off the bed.
“Yoongichi, you taste a bit like lube,” Seokjin murmurs as he pops open the cap on the bottle.
Yoongi throws an arm over his eyes and breathes out deeply, spreading his thighs farther apart when Seokjin nudges them with his knees. “I opened myself up earlier, but I didn’t come.”
Seokjin’s voice is more like a purr when he responds, igniting a fire in Yoongi’s gut. “Good boy. I still want to prep you a little beforehand though. Just to be safe.”
“Okay, hyung. Whatever you want,” Yoongi murmurs, shivering as Seokjin leans over him and kisses his chin.
“You know, I really love it when you call me that.”
The sudden weight on top of Yoongi is gone as quickly as it came and he squirms. He can clearly hear Seokjin squeeze lube into his hand and then close the bottle. The fire in Yoongi’s gut spreads as Seokjin slips a finger into him slowly, testing him.
Yoongi’s loose though, like he knew he would be when they finally ended up at this point. Seokjin is quick to add a finger, then another, and finally a fourth while Yoongi does his best not to blow his load right then and there. Here Seokjin pauses, curling his fingers cautiously as Yoongi pants underneath him. It’s definitely a lot more than the three fingers Yoongi used earlier to prep himself, but it isn’t uncomfortable either. Seokjin hums under his breath as his fingers move and smiles down at Yoongi when he decides to move the arm over his eyes back towards the sheets.
“So pretty,” Seokjin murmurs, his smile turning sharp when Yoongi’s flush goes from pink to red. “You wouldn’t know it, but you’re kind of buff too, Yoongichi. Maybe you can fuck me into the mattress next time, huh?”
A high pitched whine is let loose into the air around them. It takes Yoongi an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize the sound came from him afterward, but Seokjin doesn’t let him falter over it. His fingers drag across Yoongi’s prostate right then and Yoongi moans, feeling like an electric current has passed right through him. He grabs Seokjin’s wrist to stop him before he comes, gasping for breath and embarrassed over how close he is to losing it.
“I’m ready,” Yoongi pants, biting his lip when Seokjin leans forward to kiss him as he pulls his hand away. “Please.”
The kiss is brief and sweet enough to leave Yoongi wanting more, but he says nothing as Seokjin sits up on his knees. The condom is ripped open and Yoongi watches as Seokjin rolls it down his cock. And quite a sight that is.
(At some point soon, Yoongi is going to choke on that cock and no one but Seokjin himself is going to stop him.)
Seokjin presses a hand to the hickey on Yoongi’s chest and holds himself by the base, guiding himself forward carefully. When Yoongi can feel the heavy weight of Seokjin’s dick against his hole, he lies his hand over Seokjin’s on his chest and inhales deeply. By the time he’s exhaling, Seokjin is steadily pushing past his rim and trying in vain to muffle his cursing.
Yoongi waits with bated breath, his thighs shaking as the elder presses forward to the hilt. Seokjin pauses as he looks over Yoongi, taking in his reaction and breathing. It’s only when Yoongi nods dumbly that Seokjin begins to move.
His movements are quick and strong, fierce enough for the fire in Yoongi’s gut to expand with each thrust. Seokjin grips his waist with his free hand and hikes his thigh up around his own waist until Yoongi catches on and wraps his legs around him. He leans forward and kisses Yoongi again, this time just as fiercely as he had when they were caught up in one another on the couch earlier.
There’s a buzz in Yoongi’s veins now, making everything a little hazy, but he can still make out Seokjin whispering nonsense into his throat and collar bones, his movements only increasing in speed and strength. Yoongi’s prostate is being repeatedly brushed against and that alone is enough to have him clinging to Seokjin as tight as he can. They are both sweaty and panting, but Seokjin keeps moving, keeps fucking into Yoongi like his very life depends on it.
After a while, Yoongi realizes that he’s been moaning and whining this entire time. The only times he has quieted was when Seokjin could capture his lips with his own and bring him closer and closer to the edge of his oncoming orgasm.
“You’re so pretty,” Seokjin murmurs against his parted mouth, his movements barely beginning to slow. “Wanna fill you up and fuck you over and over again.”
Yoongi cants his hips forward to better Seokjin’s angle and yells as Seokjin pushes forward into him deeper. His orgasm is so close now and he wants it more than he has ever wanted anything in life. Seokjin sits up on his knees and fucks harder into Yoongi, groaning as Yoongi starts to squeeze around him.
Seokjin’s cock is heavy and huge inside of him and it's all that Yoongi can think of. He keeps moving his hips in tune with Seokjin’s movements, thanking any- and everything that helped get him here. The last time they slept together, Yoongi was buzzed and erratic and could barely remember everything that had happened, but right now he’s sober. He is only buzzed with excitement and his movements are knowledgeable, just as Seokjin’s are. Because it’s quite clear that Seokjin still wants him even under the bright lights and clear-headed decisions they have made tonight.
Yoongi keens as Seokjin’s cock hits his prostate dead on before dragging against it repeatedly. The fire in Yoongi grows to a mind-numbing roar and dances through him, all while Seokjin works them both up to the climax.
Suddenly, Yoongi’s orgasm blows over him like a mindless hurricane and he comes on his stomach, legs trembling around Seokjin’s waist. Seokjin stills inside him at almost the same time while tremors rock his own body. Yoongi feels pleased for some reason when he notices that Seokjin is holding his breath as he releases himself inside the condom. His thighs are now twitching around the sweaty, soft skin of Seokjin’s waist but he doesn’t want to move. He’s warm and comfortable here.
All he really wants is for Seokjin to stay inside him as he spoons him from behind and lulls him to sleep. Which is exactly why Yoongi grabs Seokjin’s arm when the elder pulls out of him and starts to get off the bed.
“Don’t go,” Yoongi pants, head still feeling light in the aftermath of his climax. “Please, hyung.”
Seokjin chuckles and kisses him again, soft and insistent. “Just gonna grab a towel to clean us up, Yoongi-yah. I’ll be right back.”
Yoongi holds onto his arm for another moment longer before he lets go, nodding his head against a pillow and smiling when Seokjin kisses him again. Seokjin leaves the room for less than a minute and returns with a damp, hot towel that he presses to Yoongi’s stomach first, then his ass. Yoongi startles at the touch but relaxes when he realizes who it is.
The towel ends up being thrown into a corner of the room to be forgotten about until the next day, while Seokjin climbs onto the bed and curls himself around Yoongi. A nose is buried into his hair and Yoongi laughs softly to himself when Seokjin exaggerates sniffing his hair.
“You smell nice,” Seokjin murmurs against his scalp.
Yoongi fights back a giggle. “I smell like sweat and sex.”
“Which is the best. Maybe I should just rub my cum into your skin next time,” Seokjin jokes, his hand pressed to the hickey on Yoongi’s chest once again.
“I thought I was going to fuck you next time?”
Seokjin kisses the crown of his head, his voice slurring with sleep. “Yeah, in the morning. You can have me whatever way you want after we eat my delicious waffles.”
Yoongi turns in his embrace and buries his smiling face into Seokjin’s naked shoulder. “Sounds like a plan.”
98 notes · View notes
babeyybnha · 5 years
Note
Hey! can we request NSFW alphabet? if so, with bakugou please ! You write for him so well 💝
hi everyone! im so so sorry for being so inactive. i’ve been really sick ): im working on everyone’s requests right now, i swear!! also feel free to request any sort of nsfw headcanons hehe
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
bakugou is pretty sweet after sex, in his own way. he really is whipped for you, and wants to make sure that you know he does actually love you!! if you ask for anything, he’s quite willing to get it for you. he’d probably cuddle you afterwards too, maybe gently rubbing any spots he knows he left sore
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he’s pretty proud of how his body is, especially his arms and abs. bakugou loves knowing how strong he is, and probably lowkey flexes sometimes to catch your eye.
for his partner, however, bakugou is an intellectual. by that i mean he loves thighs. big or small, he’s gonna grab them all the time!
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
he’d love either finishing in you, or you swallowing. obviously he wouldn’t cum in you without permission, but if you let him, homeboy won’t hesitate
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
it’s not super big, but he totally gets off to anything risky you send him. he assumes it’s a given if you send him pics like that, but. yeah lol. he doesn’t really have anything that he wouldn’t tell you if you asked
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
assuming that you’re both still in highschool, none. bakugou, as we all know, is kinda an ass- and never really payed attention to other people like that before you. hell, i can’t even imagine him watching porn more than once or twice!!
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
he’s a total top. anything that gives him the majority of control, he’ll be down for! his favourites are probably missionary, doggy style, and up against a wall
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
he’s a pretty serious guy, but not uptight. given that, bakugou won’t be purposely goofy or even attempt to be funny- but he will chuckle a bit if you start giggling, or a more uh Sadistic chuckle if you’re totally begging for him
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
deadass thinks that gentils look kinda weird completely bare, so he has a bit of hair down there. not like a whole bush or anything though. for that reason, i think he’d even prefer if his partner doesn’t fully shave- but that’s besides the point
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
kinda? he tends to just fuck you, but if something happened or y’all just had a fight or a deep tm talk, he’ll noticeably be a bit more soft tm and whisper some “ i love you”s
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
as mentioned earlier, yes, he does. it’s normally just to let off steam if you’re not there, or if you sent something dirty and he can’t go to you
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
doesn’t really have a care for kinks at first, since he never took too much interest in sex beforehand, but if you brought it up,,, i think he’d be more than willing to get a bit kinky. if you’re trying to help him know what he’s into, it’d probably turn out like. very light bondage ( handcuffs or your school uniform tie), dirty talk ( coming from him), brat tamer ( from him once again ), you know. he loves biting you, getting you to beg for him, etc. bakugou would also loveeee to overstimulate you, and maybe even some light choking. a lowkey daddy kink too. OH and he would love to degrade you, only if you’re okay w it though!
he wouldn’t be opposed to doing stuff you suggested / are into even if they aren’t on that little list, as long as he can still be the dominant one
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
gets a total rush from lowkey public sex. the risk of getting caught is a total turn on !! for the first couple of times y’all do the dirty though, he’ll probably keep it in your or his dorm. that’s probably where it happens normally regardless
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
it’s really not hard to turn this boy on. it really gets him going if you try to disobey him or act all tough, he just can’t wait to show you who’s boss. you wearing anything slightly revealing drives him crAZy too
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
no threesomes, tying him up, foodplay, or him bottoming in general. he doesn’t like sharing you at all, hates the memories he gets from the league kidnapping him, and hates how messy food can get
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
prefers receiving for sure! he loves mouth fucking you, if you’ll let him. he definitely will go down on you too, though !! loves knowing he can get you shaking and panting with only his tongue.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
rough, fast, and deep 93% of the times
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
hell yeah! you guys probably have quite a few quickies, but does still like full on sexy time
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
bakugou is all for risks and experimenting! again, he’s a little new to most things like kinks and such, and likes exploring what gets both of you off! he ofc has his hard limits, as mentioned, and would die if you guys ever actually got caught
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
has beyond amazing stamina! he can go as long as he and his partner want to. he normally does 1-2 rounds, since it’s really not hard for him to get both of you satisfied- but if he’s either jealous, frustrated or just super horny, he can go for 3-4 for sure. maybe even 5

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
nope. not totally for them, either. he should be enough to please you, not needing some vibrating stick or something! if you really want to try something, though, he will use some on you. never on him, though
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
this boy LIVES to tease you. seriously. he’ll have you begging for him. especially if you’ve been a brat. he’ll be super cocky and an ass abt it. a sadist TM
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
he doesn’t really moan or anything, but does pant and groan. he also just dirty talks, like, a lot.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
spoils you a lot. like he’ll buy you almost anything
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
radiates big dick energy. probably 6ish inches when soft, and meets a solid 7-8 if he’s fully hard. a bit thicker than average. homeboy KNOWS he’s got it
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
he did a total 180 when he met you. bakugou didn’t give two shits about sex before you, but now he wants to face fuck you when you literally just playfully pout at him. it’s not like everything is about sex for him, but he does crave you a lot after your first time together.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he has a really early bed time, actually, so he does get pretty tired if you guys did it after 8:30pm. he’ll stay up with you though!
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mavenmemnon · 5 years
Text
How many have you read?
The BBC estimates that most people will only read 6 books out of the 100 listed below. Reblog this and bold the titles you’ve read.
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen 2 Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkein 3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte 4 Harry Potter series 5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee 6 The Bible (Old Testament only) 7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte 8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell 9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman 10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens 11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott 12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy 13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller 14 Complete Works of Shakespeare 15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier 16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien 17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks 18 Catcher in the Rye 19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffeneger 20 Middlemarch – George Eliot 21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell 22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald 23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens 24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy 25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams 26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh 27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky 28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck 29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll 30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame 31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy 32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens 33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis 34 Emma – Jane Austen 35 Persuasion – Jane Austen 36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis 37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini 38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres 39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden 40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne 41 Animal Farm – George Orwell 42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown 43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving 45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins 46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery 47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy 48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood 49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding 50 Atonement – Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel 52 Dune – Frank Herbert 53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons 54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen 55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth 56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon 57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens 58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley 59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon 60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck 62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov 63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt 64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold 65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas 66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac 67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy 68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding 69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie 70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville 71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens 72 Dracula – Bram Stoker 73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett 74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson 75 Ulysses – James Joyce 76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath 77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome 78 Germinal – Emile Zola 79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray 80 Possession – AS Byatt 81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens 82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchel 83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker 84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro 85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert 86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry 87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White 88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom 89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton 91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad 92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery 93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks 94 Watership Down – Richard Adams 95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole 96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute 97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas 98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare 99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl 100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo
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someonefromthere · 6 years
Text
Like I promised, there's another part! Though it's not what you wanted, probably, so I'm thinking about adding a few bonus parts here and there to the story. I wanted to expand the plot line, because there are so many ideas about these two in my head that I still want to write down. I mostly focused on The Feelings, so I hope it's not boring or rushed, or anything.
No need to read "red signs" before this, but I highly recommend you to if you want to fully understand the plot line.
This fanfic is also posted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15481596
Warnings: temporary character death
Nines saw his predecessor cry only once, a long time before he’d deviated himself.
Connor and Hank were sent to investigate a crime scene – another homicide involving two humans and an android – leaving RK900 and his partner alone at the station. It was one of the days when everyone took a day off due to the sunny weather, planning to spend it with their families, and as always, the two duos stayed as the only ones. Fowler remained in his closed office, so Nines and Gavin seemed to have the entire bullpen for themselves. It was barely three weeks since RK900 model left CyberLife, and his relationship with detective Reed was improving slowly – very, veryslowly. It was the main reason of the silence that laid between them; the other was Gavin’s state of health. That morning, the man arrived grumpier than ever, with reddened nose and hoarse voice, and a huge headache. A quick scan told the android that his partner caught a cold and it was intact by medicines. Clearly, his human didn’t care much about his health.
RK900 prepared him a hot tea and made him swallow a bitter antibiotic – Gavin did as told, although not without complaints. A next superficial analysis showed that Reed’s body started to actively fight against the cold. His mission was accomplished.
S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y
Their comfortable silence was cut off by Connor. RK800 model broke into the station in a rush – he was alone, Lieutenant nowhere to be seen – and though he tried to appear calm, his face and movement betrayed him. The android was shaking and looking around nervously, almost frantically, lips in thin line, hair messy and his brown eyes… glassy. Wet. Full of tears that streaked down his freckled cheeks.
He was crying.
“Are you alright, Connor?” RK900 asked, raising from his seat slowly. He scanned his predecessor, but the results were mostly good.
Stress level: 89%
“What happened, tin can?”
Even Gavin seemed to wear a face of concern. Interesting. The detective straightened his back and threw a glance at the older android. Connor looked at them, suddenly halting in the middle of the room.
“It’s Hank. He was stabbed.”
Stress level: 93%
Gavin stood up immediately, like thunderstruck. “I’m going to tell Fowler. Nines,” with that, he glanced at his partner, tilting his head at Connor, “take care of him. Calm him down or something, you robots have things in common. Use them.”
And he was gone, already in the middle of his way to Captain’s office. Nines’ gaze lingered on him for a while, checking his vitals carefully, before his attention was brought back to the smaller android. Connor had sat at the nearest desk – it appeared to be Anderson’s, of course – and started to wipe the tears off, however it didn’t do much; the fresh ones kept spilling out of his puppy eyes. It was a reminder for RK900, that his predecessor was a deviant for a longer period of time than he’s even been active.
He didn’t know what to do – he’s never been in contact with a crying person, and Connor looked like he needed comfort. It was… difficult to find a fitting reaction.
It took eleven seconds RK900 to put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Lieutenant will be fine. He’s a strong man.”
“Yeah, I… I know,” the older android replied, looking away. His gaze stopped at the glass office where Captain Fowler and Reed were having a heated conversation. Nines glanced there, too, to see his partner throwing his hands in the air, wincing, shouting and pointing at them through the wall.
“Then why are you worried about him? He’s in good hands.”
Connor was quiet for a prolonging moment. RK900 came back to staring at him and did a quick scan.
Stress level: 85%
“He’s… my friend. It’s a common thing, among humans, to worry about your friends.”
This made Nines think. He wouldn’t call detective Reed his friend; at least not yet. Their relationship was getting better, yes, but they were far behind Connor and Lieutenant Anderson, and the ease with which they communicated with each other.
“How do you feel about Lieutenant?” Nines chose to distract his predecessor by asking him questions and judging by his stress level – 82% blinked in the corner of RK900’s vision – it was a workable solution.
“I care about him,” the older android said, glassy eyes focused on his fingers. “And I would do anything for him. There’s a word that humans call this feeling, and I think it fits.”
“What is it?”
Connor looked up. “Love. I think I can call it love.”
Stress level: 71%
Nines wanted to search for the answers to the questions that all of a sudden appeared in his code, he was curious what love was, but the bang of the closed door snapped the androids’ attention to the approaching detective. Reed’s cheeks were painted angry red, his face decorated with a troubled frown.
“That fucker wanted a report from you, but I stopped him,” apparently, his words were directed at Connor, yet his eyes followed Nines movement as the android took his hand from RK800’s shoulder. “Told him you’re not feeling good right now.”
“Thank you,” Connor brushed the back of his hand over his face to dry it a bit.
“Not a big deal, plastic.”
Nines’ eyes felt glued to the man as he sat back down and reached for his cup, and to his beautiful grey eyes. A soft smile found its way to the android’s lips.
S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r e   I n s t a b i l i t y   S o f t w a r-
One day the definition of love appeared before his vision almost without his consent. He probably searched it subconsciously during the analysis he provided on the files that he and Gavin got. Reed was back to work for a week now, his wound was healing quickly and didn’t hurt as much as it used to, and their developing relationship seemed to comfort him more than any medicine he was made to take. Nines was nearly used to catching the little smiles his partner was shooting him from time to time.
a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person
a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection
sexual passion or desire
RK900 felt a blue blush creeping over his cheeks at the last part. They didn’t get far past kissing yet due to Gavin’s injury, but the man’s hands had already wandered below Nines’ waist many times, and the android didn’t feel like stopping them. Gavin’s fingers felt good on his exposed skin, deactivated to show the man his trust, leaving hot trails wherever they landed. System overheating warnings often cluttered his view at those occasions, but he clumsily dragged them off his vision, too busy keeping Reed’s lips occupied with his own.
“Didn’t know androids could blush.”
Nines looked up from a photography of a murdered woman he had been holding to meet Gavin’s amused eyes. Recently, the detective seemed happier than ever – the usual frown was mostly gone from his handsome features, his brows straightened, nose not scrunched anymore. He smiled a lot more, too. Nines liked the thought that he was responsible for it.
“It’s a- It’s a simulation of human blush,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, though there was no need to. He tried to prevent blue from farther spreading all over his cheeks and nose, but he found himself unable to. It seemed like the blush was living its own life. Gavin sent him a smile which could be read as almost sheepish.
“It looks good on you, you know.”
Nines’ LED flashed furious yellow – he caught a glimpse of it in a glassy wall – and the android’s gaze fell down, back to the photo. “Thank you.”
The compliments still felt peculiar as well. There was something in them, something intimate, that always made Nines even more, almost impossibly, flustered. But if Gavin liked it, he didn’t see a reason to try and stop it.
^
The first time Nines said it, he was once again overwhelmed by fear.
He was going to shut down. He felt it, felt life leaving his limbs and flickering lines of code that frantically tried to start working properly again, but couldn’t. He felt the gashing hole where his Thirium pump should be; it laid hundreds of feet away instead, torn from his body and threw with force. His vision was blurred at the edges and filled with fuzzy stripes all over the front, the image of his human partner glimmering. Not complete.
“You’re going to be fine, Nines, you’ll be fine, you hear me?”
The android felt strong hands, trembling hands, around his head, lifting it up and putting on Gavin’s lap gently. One of them came to stroke his hair.
00:00:31
“Gavin.”
He didn’t want to die.
“Yes?”
They were meant to have so much time yet, so many days to spend together. He was going to learn all emotions.
He wanted to know how is it to feel them.
“I want you… to listen.” His voice came out weak and broken, but the look on Gavin’s face was far more than broken.
“I want… I need you to know…”
00:00:14
“I can’t fucking lose you now…” the man whispered, and his tone betrayed him. He was crying. It broke Nines’ heart.
00:00:04
“I love you.”
“Nines-“
He was abruptly wrapped by darkness and silence, and sudden calmness. Everything went quiet.
The touch of his partner’s hands disappeared.
^
He decided that hearing it felt so, so much better.
It was, in actuality, the first thing Nines heard when the words Reactivation completed showed up in his view. His sensors flashed before they started working again, his LED turned yellow, and then blue, and it all felt wonderful.
He was alive.
“I love you, you stupid fucking plastic prick.”
A hand clenched on his shirt yanked him forward and before he had a chance to open his eyes, his lips were crashed by the familiar ones. Gavin’s.
“I thought I fucking lost you for good,” the detective pulled back and his glassy eyes pierced through RK900’s. “You’re a piece of shit.” Another kiss, this time longer and wetter, and full of longing. His tears mixed with Gavin’s on their cheeks, but it was the last thing they cared about.
When Reed pulled back once more time, he was smiling as brightly as the sun. “Don’t do that again. Don’t you ever leave me. Promise me.”
“I promise,” Nines said and sat up on the metal table, wrapped his arms around Gavin’s waist and pulled him closer, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
^
A cloud of hot steam poured into the room as Gavin left the bathroom with only a towel around his hips two days later, hair damp. RK900 looked up from an electronic newspaper he’d been holding for over ten minutes and threw a glance at his partner – at the messy strands falling onto his forehead, at his reddened from hot water cheeks, his pink lips and still wet chest, a fresh scar of the size of coin on his side. His gaze stopped on the dangerously low brink of the towel. Gavin noticed.
“Stop staring at me like that,” he said with a laugh, reaching for his phone and sitting on the other side of his bed. Their bed. Nines tilted his head to the side shyly and said nothing, but the electronic device landed on the night closet. The android came closer to his partner, sliding on the soft bedding until his lips reached Reed’s bare shoulder blade.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered into the skin, and Gavin shuddered, the phone suddenly forgotten as the man looked over his shoulder at RK900.
“I’m not a girl. I don’t need pretty words.” His voice trembled a bit, a sigh escaped his throat when Nines sucked gently at his shoulder blade. The android closed his eyes and took an unnecessary breath just to smell his human. Gavin’s scent included a mint shampoo of a certain brand and a maracuja shower gel, and something that only Gavin smelled of.
“I know,” he replied quietly. “I’m just speaking my mind.”
His tongue slid across Reed’s spine to his neck and remained there as he sucked a dark red mark on the side of it. He earned a shy moan, and locked his hands on Gavin’s hips, turning him around and pushing him to the mattress. His partner wrapped his left hand around Nines’ neck, the other making its way to the android’s hair and tugging at it gently. Nines pressed his mouth against Gavin’s right collarbone.
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, moving to the man’s right shoulder, “handsome,” there came the breastbone, “gorgeous,” the left nipple, his teeth and Gavin’s very low moan, “attractive,” Nines let his tongue slide down to Gavin’s navel slowly. “Mine.” He felt the man’s excitement pressing against his own chest, but ignored it purposely, his fingers grazing over every scar they encountered on Gavin’s stomach, every trace of violence that was done to him, and pain that he experienced. Soon they reached the smallest and newest one – his heart dropped, and the android leaned in to cover it with the softest kiss he was capable of. When he pulled back, his gaze was met with grey eyes.
No words were needed as Gavin brushed Nines’ cheek with his hand, wiping away the little salty droplets that adorned his skin.
^
“Gavin?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do humans get married?”
Gavin turned around to face him in the darkness of his bedroom. Their bedroom. He also winced, displeased by the fact that Nines tore him away from his half-sleep, but RK900 knew that his partner wasn’t mad at him.
“Do androids have so many questions at night? Or is it just you, huh?” Gavin yawned, moving his hand to place it over RK900’s bare pale chest, just where the android’s pump, his heart sat underneath his artificial skin. The android would never admit it, but his human looked adorable like that. All sleepy and messy, and beautifully tousled.
“I heard two women in the park talking about marriage today. I was wondering…”
“They get married because they love each other,” Gavin looked him in the eyes. “They want to be together. It’s like a promise that obliges to death, or at least that’s the main concept. You know, “until death do us part” and that kind of shit. The whole vow and a wedding can actually be fun sometimes though.”
Nines proceeded his words cautiously, absentmindedly stroking the man’s forearm with his fingers.
“Will you marry me?”
“What?”
“Will you marry me?” The android repeated and got drunk of the amount of surprise and love that Gavin’s eyes held. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”
“You’re cheesy as all hell, Nines.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Gavin’s lips, as always, found their way to Nines’, and it felt lovely.
They both could definitely get used to that.
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chemwhat · 1 year
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3-Fluoroanthranilic Acid CAS#: 825-22-9
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IdentificationPhysical DataSpectraRoute of Synthesis (ROS)Safety and HazardsOther Data Identification Product Name3-Fluoroanthranilic AcidineIUPAC Name2-amino-3-fluorobenzoic acid  Molecular StructureCAS Registry Number 825-22-9EINECS Number630-115-7MDL NumberMFCD01569395Beilstein Registry NumberSynonyms2-Amino-3-fluorobenzoic acid825-22-93-Fluoroanthranilic Acid2-amino-3-fluoro-benzoic acid2-amino-3-fluorobenzenecarboxylic acidBenzoic acid, 2-amino-3-fluoro-2-Azanyl-3-Fluoranyl-Benzoic AcidMFCD01569395C7H6FNO24owm3-fluoroanthranilateSCHEMBL1619512-Amino-3-fluorobenzoic acid #DTXSID70342984ACT00442ACT00505BCP24579ZINC2574870BBL100542STL554336AKOS005073124AB09241AC-3880CS-W002787KC-0713SY0052782-Amino-3-fluorobenzoic acid, AldrichCPRDB-024255AM20060112F0570FT-0602026EN300-56009825A229Q-103166Q27453765Z362758748Molecular FormulaC7H6FNO2Molecular Weight155.126InChIInChI=1S/C7H6FNO2/c8-5-3-1-2-4(6(5)9)7(10)11/h1-3H,9H2,(H,10,11)InChI KeyC1=CC(=C(C(=C1)F)N)C(=O)OCanonical SMILESC1=CC(=CN=C1)N Physical Data AppearanceOff white to brown yellow crystalline powder Melting Point, °C Solvent (Melting Point) 183 - 184CHCl3171177183aq. ethanol Spectra Description (NMR Spectroscopy)Nucleus (NMR Spectroscopy)Solvents (NMR Spectroscopy)Temperature (NMR Spectroscopy), °C Frequency (NMR Spectroscopy), MHzChemical shifts1Hacetone500.1Chemical shifts13Cacetone125.6Spectrum1Hdimethylsulfoxide-d6Chemical shifts19Fdimethylsulfoxide-d6Chemical shifts19Facetone-d6 Description (IR Spectroscopy)Solvent (IR Spectroscopy)Temperature (IR Spectroscopy), °CBandspotassium bromide2-Amino-3-fluorobenzoic acid: Description (UV/VIS Spectroscopy)Solvent (UV/VIS Spectroscopy)Comment (UV/VIS Spectroscopy)Absorption Maxima (UV/VIS), nmExt./Abs. Coefficient, l·mol-1cm-1aq. phosphate buffer308 Route of Synthesis (ROS) Route of Synthesis (ROS) of 3-Fluoroanthranilic Acid CAS-825-22-9 ConditionsYieldWith N-Bromosuccinimide In dichloromethane at 0 - 20℃; for 1h;82%With N-Bromosuccinimide In N,N-dimethyl-formamide at -10℃; for 1h; Inert atmosphere;80%With N-Bromosuccinimide In dichloromethane at 20℃; for 3h;80%Experimental Procedure Step a. NBS (114.8 g, 645 mmol) was added in a portion wise manner over 1 h to a stirred orange/brown suspension of 2-amino-3-fluorobenzoic acid (100 g, 645 mmol) in DCM (1000 ml) at rt, and the resulting mixture was stirred at rt for 2 h. The mixture was then filtered and the resulting solid was washed sequentially with DCM (2 x 250 ml) and water (3 x 400 ml) before being dried under vacuum at 55°C for 7 h to give the desired product as a beige solid (121.4 g, 80%). LCMS (Method S): rt 2.93 min, m/z 232/234 -; NMR (400 MHz, DMSO-d6) δ ppm 7.64 (m, 1H), 7.52 (dd, J= 10.9, 2.3 Hz, 1H) Safety and Hazards Pictogram(s)SignalWarningGHS Hazard StatementsH302 (25%): Harmful if swallowed H315 (75%): Causes skin irritation H319 (75%): Causes serious eye irritation H335 (100%): May cause respiratory irritation Precautionary Statement CodesP261, P264, P264+P265, P270, P271, P280, P301+P317, P302+P352, P304+P340, P305+P351+P338, P319, P321, P330, P332+P317, P337+P317, P362+P364, P403+P233, P405, and P501(The corresponding statement to each P-code can be found at the GHS Classification page.)ECHA C&L Notifications SummaryAggregated GH Other Data TransportationUnder the room temperature and away from lightHS CodeStorageUnder the room temperature and away from lightShelf Life2 yearsMarket Price DruglikenessLipinski rules componentMolecular Weight155.129logP1.41HBA3HBD2Matching Lipinski Rules4Veber rules componentPolar Surface Area (PSA)63.32Rotatable Bond (RotB)1Matching Veber Rules2 BioactivityQuantitative Results Quantitative Results1 of 14Comment (Pharmacological Data)Bioactivities presentReference4-Hydroxy-3-quinoline-carboxylic acid derivatives2 of 14Comment (Pharmacological Data)Bioactivities presentReferenceADENOSINE A2A RECEPTOR ANTAGONISTS3 of 14Comment (Pharmacological Data)Bioactivities presentMeasurementDissociation constant4 of 10Assay DescriptionHydrogen bond acidity of the compound was determinedReferenceSubstituents effects on activity of kynureninase from Homo sapiens and Pseudomonas fluorescens Use Pattern3-Fluoroanthranilic Acid CAS#: 825-22-9 is used as a pharmaceutical intermediate. Read the full article
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missblushyrose · 6 years
Text
Nightmare
A/N: I’ve been meaning to write a nightmare fic for Connor, and this comic was the thing that set me off to do it as it was a source of inspiration. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing this to hurt him - I love this precious baby boy. I just wanted to get this out of the way so I can write more fluff without this breathing down my neck. I’m not one to write angst fics, but I’d do it if there is room for comfort and a dash of fluff. Just try not to cry during the nightmare portion like I did as I wrote this. If you read further towards the end, things get better. This would be set during Connor’s third night living with Hank after the events of the revolution. As for the requests in my inbox, I will get to them sooner or later. I greatly appreciate your patience!
Connor’s eyelids fluttered weakly, a soft, weary groan emerging from his lips. He blinked once, twice, three times before he finally managed to regain the focus his visual processors needed. The blue hue of his LED began spiraling to yellow, then to red at the display before him.
“L-Lieutenant...?”
Much to the prototype’s shock and horror, his gaze met the seemingly downcast form of Hank, who was perched on his knees as his head drooped downward. He also came to notice the pistol embraced in a tight grasp of his left hand, the arm stretched forward, aiming at the human who knelt before him. He tried to pull his arm back down, but some strange force was preventing him from doing so. He couldn’t even walk away.
“W-What’s... happening? I can’t... move,” The RK800 croaked, sounding like a timid child in a doctor’s office. “Hank... what am I-!?” He paused abruptly at the feeling of a pair of hands slithering up against his neck, stopping to where the fingers rested against his jawline. 
Those hands... they felt... soft, smooth, and cold... ice-cold, similar to-
“Well done, Connor. Your mission is nearly complete.”
“A-Amanda!?” Connor whispered, his thirium pump nearly stopping at the voice he knew all too well; the voice of his former handler; the voice that guided him during his pre-deviant days.
“Now for your final objective...” The AI’s tone ran like silk with a monotonous timbre, practically whispering the next set of instructions into his ear: 
“Kill him and come home, Connor.” 
“Connor, please don’t do this! You were my partner! I trusted you!” Hank’s words hurt him like an icy stab to the heart, his silvery gray brows furrowed and his mouth contorted into a scornful sneer, a thin crimson trail forming at the left corner of his lips, whereas a thicker ribbon dribbled from the hairline. He looked hurt; betrayed; disappointed. 
The hand clutching the gun trembled in an attempt to resist his orders, screams ringing through from the back of his mind, each begging him to not do something he would regret. 
“Say something, damn it! CONNOR! ” The lieutenant barked at him in hopes of being listened to, the man’s grey-blue irises gazing up into his own glassy dark brown orbs.
As his index finger rested on the trigger, Connor felt an odd stirring sensation lingering within the pit of his stomach, like as if he were going to be ill. Was this what humans refer to as that ‘sinking feeling’?
“CONNOR! STOP!”
The android gritted his teeth at the raw desperation in Hank’s voice and futilely fought against the “I-I can’t stop...!” 
“CON-”
BAM!
Connor winced at the loud blare as his human colleague’s blood and partial brain matter splattered against the pristine white floors of this odd oblivion. He could only look on in crippling trepidation for the owner to collapse onto his back, the lifeless eyes staring blankly above him, blood oozing from the gaping hole in his forehead as a result from the single bullet.
It was the moment that he had (unwillingly) killed the man when his vision was greeted with the haunting, bone-chilling textile displayed in a red hue so dark that it would easily blend into the evergrowing puddle of red before him:
[MISSION ACCOMPLISHED]
No longer constricted in his stance, the android sank to his knees and ran an analysis on the corpse in front of him, hoping and praying to God that this was not real - that this was some cruel, twisted joke.
[SYNC IN PROGRESS...]
[SYNC DONE.]
[COLLECTING DATA...]
[PROCESSING DATA...]
[LT. ANDERSON, HANK
Born: 09/06/1985
Died: 11/14/2038
Lived: 115 Michigan Street in Detroit, Michigan]
The chocolate irises in his optics shrunk as he struggled to grasp the concept that was provided to him before his very eyes: 
Hank Anderson, the only human he ever grew close to - his partner, his best friend, his... family - was no more. And it was all his fault.
“Hank...” Connor choked out a sob, his red LED glaring bright enough to where even he could see it just at the corner of his eye. “What have I done...? I’m so sorry... I-I’m so sorry...!” He finally caved into the regrettable crime he was forced to commit and wailed in despair, repeatedly apologizing for his actions, though it was all in vain.
The taunting voices he could hear from the back of his mind, each condemning, spiteful, and disdainful:
“You look human, you sound human... but what are you, really?”
“He was bleeding, begging you for mercy, but you shot him!”
“Are you a human being? Or just a machine?”
“Machines don’t feel - that’s why you killed him. You are just a machine.”
The android clenched his teeth and gripped at his usually immaculate hair, a million thoughts speeding through his mind, like an afternoon highway traffic pattern. He couldn’t bear to go on with his extended lifespan, knowing that he killed the only human he could ever hold a space for in his nonexistent heart in cold blood. 
[STRESS LEVELS: 100% [CRITICAL]]
[SELF DESTRUCT IMMINENT...]
[00:03
00:02
00:01]
“Con-”
____________
“-nor!”
Connor’s eyes - fogging up - just about bugged out of his artificial skull in response to the gruff voice stirring through his audio processors, his fear-filled brown eyes meeting the gaze of grey-blue before him as his synthetic skin grew cold and clammy. How was this possible? He shot him. He was on the verge of self-destructing, and he somehow found himself on a familiar sofa rather than an eerily vast blankness, a pillow resting behind his head and a soft throw blanket draped over his body, an oversized DPD hoodie practically swallowing him whole. Neither of them should be alive. They should be dead. And yet, here they were in the living room of Hank’s small home, the human hovering over him with Sumo by his side. 
“Connor! Can you hear me!?” Hank shouted to him as he grasped the android’s shoulders. “Say somethin’, damn it! Con-”
“STAY AWAY FROM ME!” Came a terrified outcry from the android’s voice box as he all but shoved the older man away from himself.
“What the f-!?” The lieutenant’s surprised exclamation was cut short as he flew back towards the further end of the couch, Sumo flinching sharply at the sudden commotion. He quickly shook off his startled daze and shot an irked glare at the deviant. “Jesus Christ, Connor! What’s gotten into-” 
“Stay away from me... I don’t want to hurt you... I-I don’t... I-I...” 
[STRESS LEVELS: 90% [CRITICAL]]
Hank’s gaze drastically softened at the tone the android was currently attributing: broken; scared. “Connor... Shit...”
The harsh glow of red did not cease within Connor’s LED, the artificial tears that wielded the glassy surface of his optics now streaming down his cheeks without even realizing it himself until he noticed the sudden moisture along his synthetic skin. “Amanda, she made me do it. I-I didn’t want to... I killed you... I couldn’t stop myself. I-It was me...”
“Connor, h-hey...”
“And I didn’t fight back! Maybe I really am just a machine...! I shot you! I killed you! There was nothing I could do!”
[STRESS LEVELS: 93% [CRITICAL]]
“Connor!”
“W-Was that real? Or is this real? I... I killed you! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I-”
“Connor!”
The as the android’s stress levels increased, his hands began to wring the soft, cotton fabric of the blanket upon his lap, trembling fingers tightly clenching at it. “P-Please kill me, Hank...” He whispered aloud, missing the horror-stricken awe morphing in the human’s expression. “Please... I don’t want to-” His heartbreaking request was abruptly ceased as he felt a calloused hand pulling him into a pair of warm arms.
“Shhh...” The lieutenant shifted his voice down to a gentle whisper to soothe the anxious android, whose pupils remained shrunken and unmoving. “It’s alright. I’m here. It was just a nightmare. I know you’d never hurt me.” He pressed his fingers through the young man’s disheveled locks and gently massaged the scalp underneath the follicles with the hand that cradled his head, holding it to where the kid’s ear was burrowed into his chest. “Just... listen.”
Still no words rising from his voice box from the fear-tainted shock, Connor heeded the placid instruction and directed his focus to hear the moderately soft pulsations:
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
[LIEUTENANT ANDERSON’S VITALS: NORMAL]
The soft, rhythmic pulses resembled that of a gentle thump of a drum, playing to a mind-numbingly calm and slow, yet temperate, tempo. His analysis seemed to prove its uselessness since he could auricularly capture the soothing beat through the flesh surrounding the still-beating heart. Gradually, the red in the android’s LED spiraled to yellow, only to finally revert back to a calm blue. The tears, however, did not cease to fall - they seemed to increase, in fact. 
He was safe - they were both safe. They were protected by the walls of the lieutenant’s - no - their home. Hank Anderson was alive. 
“I’m... sorry,” The deviant sputtered with a small hiccup, trembling in his partner’s arms like a leaf in a rowdy gust of wind in the autumn. “I-I was so scared...”
“I know, but there’s no reason to be. I don’t blame ya. Sounds like one fucked up nightmare by the looks of it. You’re alright, Connor. I gotcha. I gotcha...”
And so for the next ten minutes, the human kept the sniveling android in a secure embrace, continuously whispering soft words of comfort into his ear and rubbing a hand along the stiff, shaking back. No other words were spoken by the former deviant hunter, besides the frequent apologies for his outburst along with an occasional hiccup as a result of his crying. 
[STRESS LEVELS: 69%]
What struck the artificial human odd was why he felt so terrified by what was just a mere illusion. What haunted him within the depths of his nightmare had never actually occurred in real life, so why was he still scared? Before he could do so much as utter a single syllable, he felt himself being lifted from the couch cushions and into Hank’s arms, said human carrying the android towards his bedroom, just across the bathroom on the opposite of the hall.
“Hank, what are you-”
“Taking you to bed.”
“But... I don’t have-”
“I know, so you’re gonna sleep with me tonight.”
“But I-”
“Shut the fuck up, Connor.”
Pushing the ajar door with a foot, Hank proceeded towards his own bed and carefully lowered the android onto the mattress, crawling in afterward. He gripped the comforter and lifted it to shield their bodies from the blistering cold of the midnight breeze lingering through the crack of the entry doors from the outside. Next, he shifted himself closer and gathered the deviant into his arms, enfolding him into a warm, comforting embrace once more.
“H-Hank...?” The android questioned faintly.
Instead of receiving a verbal response, the lieutenant started to lightly drag his blunt fingernails up and down the android’s back after slipping a hand beneath the aged hoodie, his digits just stroking at a very slow pace. He chuckled warmly as he watched Connor shiver before he gradually eased himself into the touch. “Feels good, huh? I used to do the same thing for Cole whenever he had a nightmare to help him relax. Works every time.”
“A bit spine-tingling at first, but it becomes very... soothing...” Connor admitted softly, his eyelids fluttering lightly. The sensations of the human’s blunt nails drifting along his back tickled him ever so slightly, but they were relaxing, nevertheless. “I like this. It feels pleasant.”
[STRESS LEVELS: 54%]
Hank took this as a cue to continue brushing his extremities along the android’s back, which gradually became less tense as he went on. “You, uh... You wanna talk about it?”
“Why would I want to talk about it?” Connor quizzed with a tilt of his head and a puzzled expression that made him look like a lost puppy.
“Because by talking to someone, you’re facing it, but you’re not facing it alone. Plus, gettin’ it out in the open helps you move past it. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
A tense, awkward silence began to saunter throughout the master bedroom as Connor began to contemplate the offer. He spent an utmost three minutes of deliberating before he finally came to a decision. “Well, I suppose if it will work, then I’m willing to confide to you.” 
The older man gave off a sympathetic nod, his grey-blue eyes never leaving the android as he continued to stroke his back. “I’m listenin’.”
He then inhaled through his nose to further compose himself before he began to disclose the events of his nightmare. “I seem to remember that I was lying on the couch, and I suddenly found myself in some sort of... oblivion. I looked down to find you on your knees. You were bleeding, and... a-and I’ve held you at gunpoint. I was... confused and... scared... I’ve tried to throw the gun away, only to find myself unable to move. I wanted to just... drop the gun, but something prevented me from doing so: Amanda.”
“Amanda?” Hank questioned with apparent perplexity, but with gentle caution.
“She was my handler, whom I would update on the progress of my missions when I was just a machine.”
“Like your boss or somethin’?”
The android nodded slowly. “In a way...”
Hank could easily discern the hint of pain that strayed within the artificial human’s tone, and he ultimately decided to delay on the particular topic, for his kid’s sake. “Sorry. Go on.”
A wistful sigh ventilated through the deviant’s lips as Connor pressed on with his story. “I... I could feel her hands. I could hear her voice, ordering me to kill you as the last objective of my mission. As you were begging me to go against my instruction, you sounded angry; hurt; disappointed.” He emphasized said adjectives with raw emotion, missing the shock that morphed into the man’s expression. “I-I wanted to stop myself, but I couldn’t! I-I-I... I shot you! I killed you! I-” Another heart-wrenching wail ripped through his voice box as he buried his face into Hank’s chest, his entire frame shaking heavily.
“Aw, Jesus, Connor...” Hank’s heart hurt for the weeping android, prompting him to pull him closer to himself and proceeding to rub the synthetic skin of his back with the hand beneath the hoodie. He gave no regard to the fact that his shirt was beginning to grow damp from the artificial tears - his kid was in pain, for Christ sake! “It’s okay, son. That’s it, just let it out...”
“I-I hate this! I hate feeling this way!” The prototype cried miserably, clinging onto his human companion as if his life depended on it. “I-It hurts!”
Hank was unable to restrain himself from cringing at the last emotional exclamation. It almost sounded like... Cole. “I know, son. I know... You’re safe now. You don’t have to go through this alone. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I gotcha...”
With a sniffle, Connor reluctantly pried his head from its makeshift nest and peered up to meet the human’s gaze, his doe-like, brown eyes running with stray tears. “Hank... can I ask you a personal question?” He asked, receiving a nod in response. “Do you... Do you question yourself?”
“Well, yeah. Sometimes, at least. Why’s that?”
“I... I think I may be questioning myself as to what I am,” The whisper that left the android’s lips sounded so doleful and helpless it made Hank feel like he’d been punched in the gut. “What if Amanda is still there? Had I not escaped in time, I-I would’ve shot Markus! What if... what if I’m still a machine? A machine undergoing malfunctions? What if I’m just a broken machine? I-” His rambling had come to an abrupt halt as a calloused hand clasped over his motoring lips, ultimately shutting him up.
“Hey, hey, hey! That’s enough!” Hank chastised, swearing underneath his breath as he could see a fresh sliver of tears welling up in the android’s eyes as his LED glowed red. Clearing his throat, he withdrew his hand from his mouth an looked him dead in the eyes, not breaking contact.  “Let me tell you something. I don’t know about this Amanda bitch, but you’ve proven that she couldn’t control you. You learned that there are more important things in life than to accomplish a mission. Like that deviant with the little girl, for example. You tried to climb over the fence to get to them, and what’d you do? You stayed put because you knew the risk. When you were chasing a deviant on the roof of a building, and I was hanging from the edge, what’d you do? Instead of goin’ after him when you could’ve, you saved my ass. Those two Tracis at the Eden Club who were trying to escape together? You let ‘em go so they could lead a new life because you could see they were in love. What about that girl at Kamski’s place? Instead of shooting her to get information about deviants, what’d you do? You spared her because you put yourself in her shoes - you showed empathy. Hell, you practically flipped off Cyberlife by breaking into their tower to wake up all those androids and practically lead a fuckin’ revolution. Not only that, but you saved my life again from your spitting image. You took the time to get to know me, and I would’ve shot ya, had you guessed the wrong answers to my questions. And when that dictating bitch came back to try to regain control of you, did you let it happen? Hell no! You took a stand and turned against her orders. You didn’t let her order ya to shoot Markus on stage.”
[STRESS LEVELS: 21%]
Connor’s pupils had all but shrank as he listened to Hank’s words. His vision grew blurry as a fresh set of tears - not of woe or fear, but pure happiness and pride - began to trickle down his cheeks.
Hank carefully wiped the cascading teardrops away with his thumbs, a warm smile gracing his facial expression. “Look, I know it’s hard to forget about the past. Trust me, I’m still trying to move on from Cole’s death. But you can’t let the past fuck up your life, not if it’ll consume you with grief, anger, anxiety, trauma, or regret. What’s past is past. You can’t change it, but you can learn to move forward - to live life. I’ll tell you what, I’ll move on from Cole if you can move on from, uh... her. We’ll help each other. How’s that sound?“
Connor returned the offer with a smile of his own, his LED flickering a calm blue. “I’ll gladly accept your terms.”
[STRESS LEVELS: 9%]
”Feelin’ any better?” 
“My stress levels are down to nine percent. Thank you, Hank.”
“You’re welcome, son. You wanna try to get some sleep now?”
The smile immediately fell from Connor’s face and his LED transitioned to a bright yellow, momentarily worrying Hank before the frown shifted to a small smile, the gold morphing back to a docile cerulean once more. “I suppose it would be wise to get some rest.”
With that being said, Hank resumed dragging his blunt fingernails along the android’s back, light and slow, eliciting a small yelp from the slightly tickled deviant before he eased himself into the relaxing sensations. The prototype pressed his ear into the man’s chest once more, simply allowing the gentle heartbeats to clear his mind. The next thing that happened had captured the lieutenant’s attention with ease:
After placing his left hand upon his broad right shoulder, a notable patch of artificial skin of Connor’s appendage began to pull back, revealing a porcelain plastic layer beneath.
“Why’s your hand peelin’ its skin?” Hank asked, slightly taken aback by the vanishing skin, yet his tone still carried a peaceful softness, despite his minor shock.
“Hmm?” Connor hummed sleepily as he shifted his gaze onto the retreating skin. “Oh, that. You see, androids subconsciously peel off their skins to anyone they truly trust, adore, and love; whether it’s familial/platonic or romantic. In this case, I have a familial/platonic love for you.”
Hank had all but froze in place as he comprehended his reasoning. It had only been a few days since he had moved into his home, and he already developed strong familial feelings toward him. He was thankful the android couldn’t see his eyes beginning to grow glassy. He opened his mouth to speak, only to pick up on the sound of light breathing, and he was tempted to look down at the deviant entangled in his arms.
Connor’s eyes were closed and a soft smile lay present upon his lips as he slept, his blue LED gently flickering on and off. He looked so innocent. It was actually pretty goddamn cute in Hank’s eyes.
Hank smiled warmly and carefully pressed a light kiss into the android’s hair before adjusting himself into a more comfortable position, avoiding to make any sudden movements that would likely stir the deviant from his sleep. “Good night, son...” He whispered, slowly drifting off within minutes.
____________
Connor’s eyelids gently fluttered as he blinked owlishly, trying to deplete the sleepiness lolling within his eyes. It took a few minutes of nictitating and withstanding foggy morning blur before his vision became as clear as it has always been. He blinked momentarily, only to find himself in the bed alone, much to his surprise.
Just as he could voice out a passable call for his human companion, he turned to find Hank reentering the bedroom, a cup of self-brewed coffee in hand. “Well, look who’s up.” He remarked with humor lacing in his tone as he approached the bed.
“I should be saying the same thing to you,” Connor retorted with sheer playfulness, throwing a coy smirk in the lieutenant’s direction.
Hank regarded the sudden sass with a huff as he deposited the filled cup atop the side table and seated himself on the mattress, scooting closer to the deviant. “So now you’re back to bein’ a smartass, eh? No more deviant angst bullshit? Who are you, and what the hell have you done to my son?” He questioned humorously as tweaked the android’s sides with gentle pinches.
Connor tensed up before he burst into a fit of giggles with an occasional squeak, flailing as he lightheartedly pushed the human’s hands away from his torso, giving him a warm smile. "Don’t worry about me, Hank. I can assure you that I am feeling fine. As you’ve told me, what’s past is past. If you can move on from Cole, then I can certainly move on from Amanda.”
“That’s the spirit, son,” Hank chuckled proudly, tousling the kid’s hair with a hand, earning a giggle as he did so. After a few more seconds, he retracted his hand and reached over to the side table to retrieve the awaiting beverage, leaning his back into the pillows.
“Hank, I don’t think it would be wise to drink coffee at this time,” Connor admonished as he ogled at the caffeinated drink with a shred of concern.
Hank regarded the android’s advice with a carefree scoff. “Connor, I’m 53 years old. I’ll drink what I damn well please in the mornin’.”
“While that may be, it would prove to be negative to your health.”
“Connor, if you start rambling about calories and acid, or any other health-related shit, I’ll tickle you ‘til ya short circuit...”
With a challenging purse of his lips, Connor simply decided to push his luck further toward the edge, shifting his back into the pillows to settle himself into a more casual position. “Naturally, humans contain high levels of cortisol within their bodies early in the morning, and it creates two problems would occur, should you consume any caffeinated drink before noon. One of the issues is that caffeine interferes with the body’s production of cortisol, which a hormone that is released in response to stress and low blood gluCOSE! Hahahahank, nohohoho!” He was instantly cut off by his own giggles as he felt the familiar, tingling feelings coursing through his sensors, making him squirm and lightly thump his feet against the mattress.
Hank, who quickly shifted himself over the android’s twitching legs after abandoning his coffee on the side table, only responded to the giggly protests by peering down with a toothy grin filled with such immense mischief. He wasted no time in yanking the oversized hoodie upward, providing himself with more access to the android’s sensitive, synthetic skin of his toned belly. “Ya know what? I think I just found a better alternative to wake myself up. And by the way...” He drawled just before he leaned in close to the quivering tummy beneath him, his lips merely grazing at the rim of the navel that lay at the lowermost of his abdomen. “...This is for ruining coffee for me~” With a deep breath, the older man buried his bearded face into the dreadfully sensitive skin and attacked the skin with a messy raspberry, grinning as Connor shrieked mirthfully.
Connor burst into loud fits of squeaky cackles, reaching down to gently push at Hank’s intruding head with little effort. He squealed in response to the man’s calloused hands latching onto his artificial hipbones, squeezing and massaging. Despite the immense feelings of tickle-induced endorphins, he made no attempt to put a stop to his father’s attacks. He needed this, they both did.
And all the while, the coffee sat on the surface of the bedside table, long forgotten.
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sodoyouknowbts · 6 years
Text
Yoongi x Reader - Guardian (Twelve)
Part of the ‘Souls’ Series.
Summary: Min Yoongi is a cynical guardian angel assigned to look after you.
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft Hoseok)
Genre: Romance, fantasy, soul mates
Author: Pilot
Chapter Twelve
You stare blankly at the water filter through the litre bottle on the kitchen table. You had a splitting headache and the paracetamol you’d downed earlier hadn’t quite taken effect yet.
One missed call notification waits on your phone when you head back to your bedroom.
Curious, you play the voicemail message that had been left along with it. It’s Sasha and she wants to talk. Hands linger over the call back button and you decide instead, to shove your phone into your tote bag and throw it on the bed. You’d call her back later.
You head over to the bathroom and stand there with your hands on your hips as you observe what appeared to be Yoongi’s parker on your body. Frowning, you crouch down to get a toothbrush from under the basin. There aren’t any. You swore yesterday there were. You stand up.
There’s a newly opened toothbrush sitting on the bathroom sink.
That’s right. Yoongi had brushed my teeth last night. You laugh at the thought. Turning on the tap, you rinse it under the water and apply a thin coat of toothpaste, shoving it into your mouth. You gaze at the olive green parker. It’s zipped up to your chin and you wonder how that happened. You stop brushing your teeth and begin to unzip it just a little. That’s when you suddenly remember that you’d done it yourself.
Sighing, you spit out the minty toothpaste and gargle. You wipe the droplets of water from the corners of your mouth with a small hand towel. You go to exit but your eyes catch the bathtub. You’d been sitting on the edge when he’d brushed your teeth for you and you had -
Oh god.
A memory of your lips on Yoongi’s surfaces. 
You had practically pulled him down onto you. You feel a mix of regret and nervousness bubble in your gut and your find your hands covering your lips. 
“Time for you to go, you’ll be late for your bus if you keep staring at yourself in the mirror!” Your dad calls out to you from the kitchen.
“Coming!” you yell out, your voice shaking. You rush back to the bedroom and that’s when another memory surfaces. You’d clung to his arm like a child and not let him go until you’d fallen asleep. 
Groaning, you grab your tote bag and sling it over your shoulder. One last look is all you give your room before you race out to the kitchen to bid your father goodbye.
//
Yoongi is leaning against the bus stop, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
He’d gone and slept on the couch that night - or at least, he had tried to. He’d spent the whole sleepless night laying on the uncomfortable lounge thinking of that fateful day in the snow. What had you been doing there? Was it fate or was it pre-meditated? What were the chances you’d save him when he was younger and he was responsible for looking after you now, so many years on.
Yoongi replayed that day over and over in his mind until eventually, sleep had taken him. Morning rose and so had your father, who had trudged through the house from his bedroom to the kitchen. Yoongi had sat up, one arm lingering on the back of the couch as he watched your father begin to boil the kettle and stuff a teaspoon into a large tin of instant coffee.
He’d recognised your father instantly as the man he had delivered the parcel to, on behalf of the custodian. Your father was older, but still had the same air about him. 
Yoongi can feel you approaching and quickly straightens up.
“Morning,” he says, playing it cool.
“H-hi,” you say, uncertain.
Yoongi doesn’t allude to anything that had transgressed between the two of you last night and you quietly take a seat on the cold silver bench. You’re there, playing with the fraying material on your jeans, mind so far away from where you were - that you don’t notice the bus is heading down the street.
“You coming?” he asks.
He’s standing at the open door, urging you to get on.
“Y-Yeah, coming.” You rush toward the bus, getting on. It jerks off and you stumble forwards. Yoongi’s arms wrap around you to steady you and your heart almost jumps out of your chest. You’re thankful it’s an almost empty bus and quickly take a seat before your legs give way.
Yoongi decides to sit across from you and you do your best to keep your eyes focused out of the window. Were you really going to sit there like that for three hours? 
A sinking feeling develops in your stomach.
Yoongi gazes at you. If he had the power to read minds, which he didn’t, he would have been able to see you re-living that moment over and over in your mind. Granted, it was written on your face.
“How are you feeling?”
“I-I’m fine.” you laugh awkwardly. How would you dress this? Although, come to think of it, the both of you had been pulled together in equally as awkward situations. Like that time he’d appeared in your bed and you’d woken up together. Or that time you had slipped on water in his kitchen and pulled him down with you by his towel and he was completely naked on top of you. Or like that time he -
“Sorry, I need to go. My new assignment is calling for me.” his voice interrupts your thoughts.
“W-what?”
Before he can answer you, he disappears in a flash before your eyes. You sit there, a little surprised. You tentatively reach out a hand in the blank space in front of you. He had definitely gone.
New assignment?
//
Sasha sighs as she stirs the foam on her cappuccino. 
“Kang Sang-Ho, he was holding another gentleman’s night - like he usually does. Honestly - ” she says as she drops the spoon down on the side plate. “ - he always just does whatever the heck he wants. It’s exhausting. He’s been getting so high and so drunk. More government officials have been coming along now, too.” she trails off and you nod, scribbling on your notepad. “Some new faces I haven’t seen around before.”
You were situated in a small cafe hidden behind a large fiddle-leaf fig, away from the crowd. Sasha was wearing a cap and large sunglasses that covered most of her face.
You weren’t sure if just covering the story with a statement from just Sasha was going to be enough.
“Did you recognise them?” you ask.
“Do you think anyone is really going to believe just me?” she asks, not listening to your question. “They have money and we don’t. They all end up hiring former judges as their lawyers anyway to represent them in court. It’s all the same.”
She had a point. Knowing the connections between Judge Park Ji Hoon and Kang Sang-Ho, it was inevitable that they’d dabble. You’d have to find a way of separating the judge from his other clients.
“Then we will just have to prove that some of the judiciary are in on it too.” you say, determined. “We just need more information.”
She looks at you and pulls a face.
“I’m not sure that my story will be enough -” she says.
“It will be fine,” you reassure her.
“You know what to look out for more than me, maybe you need to be there. Somehow.”
“How, what do you mean?”
“Maybe you should pretend to be me. Like cover one of my shifts, or something.”
She sits upright and pulls her chair in. Sasha pulls her sunglasses down so they sit lower on the bridge of her nose. “You should. You should go undercover, infiltrate and get the information you need. You keep up to date with the news, you’d know all the key players. You could ask the right questions. And then write an exposure!”
“Exposé?”
“Yes, that!”
You watch as she clicks her fingers and slides her sunglasses back up her nose. You can’t help but think maybe she’s onto something.
//
“Hey Jackson,” you say, answering your phone. 
“Got a sec?” he asks.
“Number 93?” the lady behind the counter at the bubble tea store calls out.
You stick up your hand and walk over to the counter to collect it.
“Sure,” you say as you rest your mobile between your ear and your right shoulder. You pull the wrapper off your bubble tea straw and take another hand to steady your uji matcha milk tea. This could go one of two ways, successfully or a milky mess all over the counter. 
“Listen, I was reading through some old case files. A few names kept re-appearing.”
You let out a shakey breath as you manage to puncture the plastic film of your bubble tea without spilling it. You grab your phone in your hand and collect the tea off the counter, taking a sip.
“So I did a bit more research,” Jackson continues, “and it turns out that there was a bit of a pattern. Quite a number of them were from the same company. Kang Sang-Ho’s company. While daddy’s been unwell, he’s been racking up quite a lot of incident records. Not to mention that they always seem to get the same judge overseeing any of the company’s court cases - be it any of the offences relating to the deputy CEO or minor ticket offences.”
“The prodigal rich son is at it again.”
“Seems like it,” Jackson agrees.
“Remind me why you’re always so keen to assist with things like this?” you ask as you push the door of the bubble tea store open with your hip and step outside.
“You know me,” Jackson says, “I hate favouritism. Besides, I’m a modern day Batman.”
“Except you’re not rich and don’t have a jawline that could cut cheese.”
“Wow, don’t hold back much do you?” Jackson laughs, “Anyway, how’s the rest of your investigation going?”
You sip through the straw and swallow. “Better now - that information is great, Jackson. If you can, keep the records and the list of names. I’ll get it from you this weekend? All of this just adds to it, strengthens the case. I just need something else - another lead.”
You spot Hoseok across the street and wave hello to him.
“I think I have a good idea of how to get it too,” you say, as you watch Hoseok bounce on his feet as he waits for the crosswalk to turn green. “Alright, I gotta go. I’ll speak soon.” You hang up.
“Hey!” Hoseok greets you with a smile and a hug. “So what are we doing?”
“Clothes, I need your help to choose some clothes.”
//
Hoseok frowns. “I don’t really think this is your style...” he says, his arms folded as he tilts his head. 
You tug at the already short leather skirt in an effort to pull it further down towards your knees.
“What’s this for again?” he asks.
“A friend’s birthday - dress up.” You lie, “Sort of risqué chic?”
You wonder if you shouldn’t have just asked your friend to help out, instead. Or even Sasha - if anyone knew the brief, it would be her. Then again, Hoseok was really good at finding clothes for you, and your current wardrobe was pretty conservative, mostly mid-length pleated skirts and jeans and hoodies.
“Alright, the leather works. Just match it with a silk top.” he says.
You nod slowly and Hoseok quickly rushes out to search for one. A few moments later and he’s back with a nice burgundy spaghetti strap number with a slightly draped neckline. Again he’d pulled through with the goods. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner tonight?” Hoseok asks as you close the change room door and pull off the tight skirt and change into your jeans.
“It’s fine Hoseok,” You say, bundling the skirt and top in your arms and opening the door. You didn’t really feel like 
“Come on, you won’t even have to stay for long. Just try some of the pasta I made earlier today.”
“Hoseok - I’d really just -” 
“You owe me for this favour, so come over for dinner tonight.” he says. He’s adamant. 
He must have noted your uncertainty when he adds, “Yoongi won’t be home tonight.”
//
Hoseok lied.
Although, to give him credit - Yoongi had come home unexpectedly. You had been drying the last plate when Yoongi had unlocked the front door and taken off his shoes. You’d frozen, your heart beating a little too fast for your liking. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him - no texts, no calls. Nothing, not since the awkwardness on the bus.
Yoongi glances at the kitchen. He knows you’re there. He’d known as soon as he’d hit the second street from his house.
He didn’t want to reach out to you the past few days. Instead he had decided to distance himself after the kiss, but most importantly because he hadn’t quite figured out what the custodian had meant. 
The air is a little awkward but Yoongi greets you all the same.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
You turn back to the plate you’re drying. You get on your tip toes to stack it on the second shelf above the kitchen sink but you can’t seem to reach. Yoongi takes the plate in his hands and you pause, your eyes locking onto his. You slowly let go of it and he reaches up with ease, places it on the pile and closes the cupboard door.
“Thanks.” you breathe.
He just shrugs and places his bag of beer on the table in the dining room.
“Where’s Hoseok?” he asks.
“On the roof...”
“What’s he doing on the roof?”
“He said he had a private call to take - work.”
Yoongi nods and says nothing as he unloads the beers into the fridge.
You bite your lip. You were done, as far as the dishes were concerned. 
“Alright, well - I better get going.” you say, wiping your hands on the tea towel and hanging it back up on the oven door.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Yoongi asks. 
“No, it’s fine.” you suggest.
“It’s no trouble,” he says, standing straight and closing the door. “Besides, I haven’t seen you for a while.”
I wonder why.
“Seriously, it’s okay I’ll -”
“It’s late. I’ll take you home.” 
Yoongi waits by the kitchen sink. He’s leaning against it, watching you collect a bag of shopping and your tote bag from the couch. You walk to the front door of the apartment and slide your shoes on.
Yoongi follows you down the hall. You go to open the door to the apartment but he reaches in front of you and closes it gently.
“We’ll go home the easy way.” he says, placing his hand on your shoulder. 
In a whirl, you find yourself standing in the kitchen of your house.
You take a breath, you still weren’t quite used to Yoongi’s preferred method of transportation.
Your house is a little bit of a mess, your laptop is open on the kitchen counter and there’s papers, photographs and news clippings everywhere.
Yoongi frowns, picking up a piece of paper. His eyes scan a few of the words. 
“Are you still working on that story?” he asks, placing the paper down.
“Huh? Yeah, I guess so.” You respond, taking off your shoes.
“You know, you shouldn’t get too involved in that.”
Yoongi had been doing some research of his own, too. He still wasn’t quite sure what the custodian had meant by his comment regarding your life and so he had taken it upon himself to do a little digging into the case.
“Why not? I’ve been following that case for a while.”
Yoongi had been busy the past few days and had met up with Hye Ra, who had been assigned to Sasha. And he didn’t like what he had heard from her.
“You don’t have to get so deep into every case you come across.” he says. 
You frown at him. What was his point?
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He sighs. “Just that you should probably cover something a little less dangerous?”
“What? I’m a reporter. That’s my job.” You’re feeling a bit hurt by his comment - especially after everything you’d cried about a few days before.
“You’re only going to get yourself into trouble -”
“Isn’t that what I have you for, to look after me and to keep me out of trouble?” You’re feeling defensive.
Yoongi considers what to say in response but before he can reply, his phone begins to buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and answers it.
You narrow your eyes. You can hear a voice. It’s sweet. A little too sweet. She sounds like she’s crying. Maybe it’s his new assignment.
“Okay, don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.” he says and he hangs up.
You watch as he puts the phone back into the pocket of his pants.
“You should go.” you suggest, your voice heavy. “It sounds urgent.”
“It’s not.”
“I’m fine - thank you for taking me home. As you can see, I won’t be getting into much trouble, not tonight anyway.” you say, your fist a tight by your side. “You better get to your other assignment.”
Yoongi sighs and without saying anything more, he disappears.
To be continued
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101 Random Things About Aveian Kobayashi
1: full name is Aveian Hime Kobayashi (his middle name is literally Princess and honestly it fits) 2: he's the demonic personification of the Sin of Lust 3: unsurprisingly he's also a complete slut 4: those are literally the only three things you ever need to know about him but for the sake of this list I'll try to continue 5: approximately 1,200 years old 6: physically 16 7: generally always horny like 80% of the time 8: it's ridiculously easy to turn him on and like ;;;;; as soon as he gets excited he'll just drag you off to bed 9: used to be a demon but he was "purified" and now he's turning into an angel  but he doesn't actually KNOW he's turning into an angel and it is just SUCH a long fucking story 10: when he was a demon he had badass fire powers 11: loves seducing people 12: ALWAYS AN UKE 13: THIS KID COULDN'T TOP A FUCKING LEAF IF HE TRIED 14: then again he also never actually WANTS to be dominant so this is a good thing for him 15: either super bi or super pan I'm not really sure anymore 16: predominantly sleeps with men but will go for a chick if dudes sre unavailable 17: sadomasochist 18: flirty and sassy in personality 19: also very classy usually 20: and also he's bit of a whiner and a crybaby 21: kind of flamboyant-ish 22: used to be a prince before he turned into a demon 23: proud of his promiscuity 24: I'm seriously running out of things to put on this list because his character is incredibly straightforward and not hard to process at all 25: will flirt with literally anyone 26: if he doesn't like you and you're trying to get with him he won't hesitate to throw you down and stomp on your head 27: has no idea what personal space means 28: VERY VERY AFFECTIONATE 29: loves being cuddled 30: always the little spoon 31: only ever eats candies nd fruits and desserts, and occasionally meat stuffs 32: really kinky and not afraid to try new positions in bed 33: has had sex more times in his life than probably any human alive 34: his bf has a really large dick so he is Always Satisfied 35: not sure what to put beyond this point 36: struggling to write this 37: loves shopping 38: he used to have blonde hair but it turned white when he became demon 39: and now it's blonde again because he turned back 40: suffering from frequent back pain because his angel wings are growing in 41: he's unaware of this happening 42: very very very fragile physically, mentally and emotionally 43: he'll cry if you bully him 44: once he starts crying you should start running becAUSE HIS BF IS THE PERSONIFICATION OF WRATH AND HE WILL NOT STAND FOR PEOPLE HURTING HIS LITTLE ANGEL AND HE WILL FUCKING DESTROY YOU 45: so please don't bully Aveian okay 46: spends about 45 minutes a day just staring at himself in the mirror 47: usually without clothes on 48: refuses to wear any kind of socks that stop before his mid-knee 49: not entirely sure how technology works because he was born in the year 803 and he's just so confused by modern things 50: once tried humping a vacuum cleaner because be didn't know what it was for (it looked hilarious by the way) 51: can't believe I got more than halfway done with this oh my god 52: if he didn't live with 6 other people (2 of which being minors) he'd literally just walk around naked all day because he can (except he can't) 53: always sleeps without clothes on (if it's cold outside he'll sometimes wear very slinky silk pajamas) 54: loves dressing up in all kinds of cute and sexy lingerie to both feel pretty and also to show off for his bf 55: will not hesitate to smack a bitch if need be 56: this is gonna sound a bit weird outta context but I seem to have attributed the Touhou song Septette for a Dead Princess to this guy and it actually really fits despite it being kinda weird to do that 57: once tried to get a friend to kill him because he was So Fucking Done with life as a demon and he was miserable 58: unfortunately he survived 59: aaaaaaand then his bf found out 60: and called him selfish for being miserable 61: I could honestly go on but if I did I'd be relaying 3 weeks worth of emailed roleplays with a friend and I'm just not fucking doing that 62: can't handle being yelled at 63: his bf used to be very physically abusive but he's doing better now 64: he always said his bf hit him because he didn't know any other way to show love (this is half right, considering his bf is literally Wrath incarnate) 65: loves cute fluffy things like tiny animals and stuff 66: one time when he was still a demon he brought home a bunch of tiny floofy kittens and spent the entire day playing with them 67: unfortunately his bf burned and ate them 68: can't swim at all 69: really really really loves giving blowjobs 70: always swallows 71: did you know that if you rearrange the letters in Lust, it spells Slut? 72: pretty ironic, huh? 73: random fact while I struggle to write more shit 74:  recently figured out how the internet works and now he's addicted to instagram 75: he takes selfies daily and he already has 164 followers 76: his account has been up for a week 77: y e  a h 78: let that sink in 79: fucking ridiculous 80: will not eat vegetables ever 81: all of his shoes have heels 82: he dresses like a girl really fucking often 83: he's not a trap and nor is he trans - he just really really loves feeling pretty 84: favorite color is purple 85: HE FUCKING HATES COFFEE 86: occasionally he gets really hyper for no reason and it's suepr cute how excited he gets when you notice that haircut he got a month ago 87: occasionally his bf will flirt with him nd get him all excited and then tease him by denying any sexual advances 88: this drives him insane and he really hates being forced to go rub one out on his own 89: really chill during the day but gets super excited as soon as it's nighttime and he immediately runs outside to the garden and dances under the moonlight 90: loves when it's a full moon because it's super pretty 91: when he turned into a demon he burned down the castle he lived in during a fit of rage which ended up killing his father (aka the fucking king of that country) 92: he doesn't regret his choices 93: deeply misses his mother 94: had two younger siblings at the time but he can't remember if they survived or not 95: they're sure as sHIT not alive now 96: it was in 819 and it's 2019 now so like-- 97: basic math is important 98: I dunno what to put here anymore 99: I'VE COME THIS FAR AND I CAN'T THINK OF A 100TH THING 100: why did I write all of this at 2 am 101: don't fuck with demons
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blackhakumen · 3 years
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Mini Fanfic #620: Waiting Patiently (Sonic X Crash Bandicoot)
3:00 p.m. Outside of Tails' House......
Coco: (Looks at the Time on her Screen Phone) ('Groans a Little') What is taking Wave so long? It's freezing out here!
Tails: (Shrugged) Maybe she just landed a few minutes ago. You do know that she lives in a blimp, right?
Coco: Yeah. But she could've easily convince that Jet to drop herself off here. (Crosses her Arms While Pouting) Makes it a lot easier than walking all the way to the house in the cold.
Tails: (Chuckles Lightly) You really wanted all of us see that "Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer" movie that badly, huh?
Coco: (Shrugged) Ehh. Not exactly. Crash and I used to watched it a lot when we were younger. So I figured I bring the DVD here for us to watch for the rest of the evening....But I DO wanna share a few theories, I came up with, about the song with the same title.
Tails: (Immediately Knows What Coco is Talking About) ('Gasps') Is one of them about how one of the family members was secretly the grandmother's murderer and how they used the song itself as a cover up of what really happened to her!?
Coco: (Excitedly Nodded Rapidly) That's right! I've been aching to start this discussion for the longest!~ (Sighs While Rolling her Eyes) But I guess we still have to wait for Wave to get here before we say anymore, huh?
Tails: (Gives Coco a bit of a Sheepish and Reassuring Smile) I'm sure she'll get here eventually. We just gotta be a little patient, you know?
Coco: ('Sigh') If you say you......(Turns to Tails) So you have any plans for Christmas this year?
Tails: I think I'm gonna spend the week at the mansion, celebrating the occasion.
Coco: (Smiles Softly) Neat. Crash, Aku, and I are gonna do the same at our end. Dingodile said he gonna come over to our island and try to cook for us.
Tails: You're talking about the guy who helped you out on your dimensional journey, right? I sometimes wonder what his food tastes like....
Coco: (Frowns in Fear) I don't recommend you trying any of them.
Tails: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Really? How come?
Coco: Well.... Between you and me, Dingo's line up of meals aren't.....quite as good as you would expect them to be. In fact, most of them cause food poisoning.
Tails: (Eyes Widened) For real?
Coco: Yep. I heard it was so bad that one of the food critics gave his restaurant an immediate "F" the moment he walked in.
Tails: Yikes. So wait. If his food was really that bad, how come you guys are letting him cook for holidays?
Coco: Because unsurprisingly enough, Crash and Alt. Tawna are only ones who actually like that stuff.
Tails: (Shrugged) Maybe they both have a strong digestive system?
Coco: Maybe.......(Smiles Softly Towards Tails) Still, I hope you guys have great Christmas this year.
Tails: (Smiles Back at Coco) I hope the same for you guys too, Coco. I'm gonna miss seeing you when the time comes though.
Coco: Aww~ You don't have to worry about that. We can totally see each other again a day or two after Christmas is over with. But until then....(Smiles Brightly) You better expect a lot of text messages coming your way, Miles!
Tails: (Chuckles Lightly) Yes, ma'am.
Coco was giggling alongside with Tails until she noticed something very familiar hanging above them.
Coco: Hey, Tails?
Tails: Yeah?
Coco: (Points up at the Thing Above her and Tails in a Bit of a Shyly Manner) I-Is that.....A mistletoe?
Tails: (Sighs After He Looks Up at the Mistletoe as Well) Yeah.....Amy convinced me to put it up there yesterday. (Rolled his Eyes) Probably to get Sonic to kiss her whenever they visit here.......(Immediately Starts To Blush Once He Comes Up With an Obvious Realization) B-B-But we don't have to do anything under here if you want to!! I-I-I know being under a mistletoe is Christmas tradition and all but-
Coco: (Gives Tails a Peck on the Cheek)
Tails: (Eyes Widened While Blushing Bright Red)
Coco: (Starts Blushing as Well While Looking Away) S-Sorry! I didn't mean to kiss you without any warning! Something in my self conscious told me to get this over with and I just....Did it! I-I completely understand if you didn't like it or-
Tails: Nononono! I-It's okay! I like the kiss! A-A lot really!!
Coco: (Slowly Turns to Tails With a Genuine Surprised Look on her Face) Really?
Tails: (Smiles Softly and a Bit Bashfully) Yeah. I mean...Sure it was completely out of nowhere and all, but....I still think it was really sweet of you to do it in the first place. Even if it is tradition. So, I thank you for that.
Coco: (Smiles Softly as She Hugs Tails Softly) You're welcome, buddy. Honestly, I'm just glad you like it at all. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.
Tails: (Hugs Coco Back) I never feel that way when I'm with you. In fact, it always make me happy everytime I see you or whenever we start hanging out and text with one another. I know it's been a few months since we became friends, but I'm really glad I had the chance to meet a smart and caring person like you in my life. I love you, Coco....A-As a friend of course.
Coco: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness As She Hold Tails Close to Her) I love you too, Tails. Thank you so much for being my friend.
Tails: Same.
????: And saved.
Tails/Coco: (Gasps at the Sight of a Very Familiar Person Casually Walking Away from a Nearby Tree) WAVE!!?
Tails: (Starts Blushing Again) H-How long were you behind that tree!!!?
Coco: (Glares at the Swallow) Were you spying on us this entire time!!!?
Wave: (Makes her Way to Her Two Friends with a Smug Look on her Face) Well, to answer your simple questions, shorties, I already arrived here a few minutes ago. I was going to say something beforehand, but I've noticed a mistletoe hanging above you guys from a distance. (Smirk Grew a bit Wider) So I'd figured I find somewhere to hide and record the whole thing. Though, I gotta be honest....(Turns to Coco) I did not expect you, of all people, to make the first move.
Coco: (Growls at her Swallow Rival) You are SO lucky snow isn't here yet!! (Grabs Tails' Hands and Make her Way Inside his House) Come on, Tails. We gotta a movie to watch.
Tails: (Follows Coco) Oh! Uhh...okay!
Wave: ('Sigh') Those two are too easy. (Follows the Duo Inside the House)
@keyenuta
@26shann
@anxiousmuffinstuff
@cyber-wildcat
@albion-93
@ma-lemons
@miki-13
@lovekittynoir
@caleb13frede
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celoica · 6 years
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70 or 93?
characters → billy hargrove/steve harrington
rating → mature
tags → post-canon, setting - 1994, established relationship, voyeurism, previous underage (but not really)
notes → in the same universe as where your love is. partly for @bloodwrit, who gave me the idea in the first place. also my feelings about drug reps bled through a little: remember, kids, big pharma is the devil. for 93: it’s a real shame no one asked for your opinion.
It started with Jonathan, as most things did.
He'd been the one to set the camera in Steve's hands, show him how to point-and-shoot without shaking, how to develop film without inhaling chemicals and drying his hands out on Metol. It had been Jonathan who'd been patient with him, even when Billy had ushered him to hurry the fuck up, the sun wasn't going to stay in the sky forever.
“Wait,” Steve said, tucking his fingers between two pages of photos. He flipped the page back, the thick pages flopping over.
Black and white, shaded by grey, but Steve knew those eyes, that hair, the long line of his neck. He knew the curve of those lips like the back of his hand. Even in shades of grey, Steve could imagine the blond hair, the blue eyes, the gold of his skin Steve had tried for years to lick off.
He tapped the photo and glanced to Sal. “Who's this?”
Sal raised his thick eyebrows and bent over the desk, squinting instead of setting his glasses on his nose. “Ah,” he said with a smile, accent faded after years in America. “That one. Nice boy, kind of shy. Nice cock.”
A burst of jealousy bubbled in Steve's throat. He swallowed it down, free hand clenching around the fabric of his jacket. It was irrational. It was twisted. He couldn't help it.
Sal hummed as he turned away, lifting the lid of a cardboard box off and rooting around through the photo albums. He pulled out two navy blue books, carefully labeled 1985. He set them on the table. Steve stepped closer, anticipation thrumming through his bones.
“Here we go,” he said, flipping both books open and pushing them toward Steve.
Tucked from corner to corner were black and white pictures. Sprawled across a chaise, in the grass, sunlight spilling across his skin; hands placed strategically sometimes, but in most of them he was bare and unashamed, looking at the camera with a fixed expression of soft determination.
Steve wondered what he thought of while the pictures were being taken.
He studied them, carefully, eyes catching over every delicate freckle and imperfection, eyes tracing the slope of his spine and hips, the indents of his abs, the lovely line of his cock against his thigh. He looked boyish and soft, hair more delicate curled than artfully coiffed. He looked less demanding and less intense; he looked less bothered by the world.
Steve looked up from the photos. “How much?”
Sal raised an eyebrow, touching his thumb to his chin as if in deep thought. Considering the decrepit state of his pawn shop, Steve imagined it was fake. “For which one?”
Steve smiled thinly. “All of them.”
He let Billy come home and shower before he said anything. It was the nightly ritual; Steve made dinner and Billy washed off the scent of perfume and student debt that seemed to follow every desperate doctor that turned their eyes onto Billy.
At one point, he'd been jealous. He knew what Billy did—flirted his way into good graces, pawning off pills that were barely FDA-approved to everyone and anyone who couldn't buy beauty with a medical degree. Handsome and willing to charm his way into a nun's habit if it meant making a sale, he was better at it than Steve had given him credit for.
Maybe all the days of convincing Tommy H shitty weed was premium had come in handy.
Hair damp and in a pair of threadbare sweats, Billy shuffled into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve's neck on his way to the fridge. Cracking open a bottle, he glanced into the pan Steve was stirring.
He wrinkled his nose. “Pasta? Again?”
“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” Steve said mildly.
“You could try something else.”
“You could cook.”
Billy grinned around the lip of his bottle. “Yeah? You sure?”
He turned off the heat and pushed the pan off the burner, glancing at Billy. “If you touch my stove, I'll kill you.”
“I love you too,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Steve.
He sighed against Billy's mouth, fingers trailing along Billy's arm to cup the neck of the bottle, setting it on the counter as Billy drew him closer. He tasted like mint and afternoon coffee. Steve licked the taste out of his mouth.
Billy pressed cold fingertips underneath his shirt.
He hissed, jerking away as Billy laugh, broad and loud, hand tight on Steve's hip to hold him still. “You fucker.”
“You love me.”
“Jesus.” The skin under Billy's fingers twitched until they warmed. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” he said again, voice pitching lower as he drew Steve close again. Their lips brushed, soft and gentle. Steve thought about punching him; Billy soothed away the thought with a harder kiss.
Later, when the dishes were cleared away and Billy was nursing his second beer of the night in front of the TV, Steve dropped the envelop on his lap and sat next to him on the couch.
Surprised, Billy glanced at him. “What's this?”
“Open it,” he said, leaning back against the corner of the couch, one arm thrown over the back. He watched as Billy frowned, setting his bottle down.
He tore the envelope with little care for its contents. He froze when he saw them, eyes wide, lips parted around nothing. Steve pressed his knuckles to his teeth.
“Where...” Billy made a noise, an indistinguishable sound Steve had spent years learning meant what the fuck. “Where did you get these?”
“Sal Padovano's pawn shop.”
“What'd you do?” he asked, fingers pinching on the edge of the photos, turning a glare on Steve. “Go around asking for porn?”
“He had some negatives I was interested in.” He dropped his hand from his mouth and leaned forward. He tapped the photos. “This was before Hawkins, wasn't it?”
This was before us, wasn't it. It had poked at Steve on his way home, the photos and their negatives burning a hole in his bag the way the money he'd paid for them had burned his fingertips as he'd handed it over. Billy was too young—hair too short—for them to have been taken after Indiana.
Billy snorted. “Yeah.” He sorted through the stack of photos, a frown on his face as he tilted them. “They paid for the Camaro.”
It came out as a snort, and then a burst of harsh laughter. “Fuck, really?”
Billy shot him a dirty look. “I really wanted a car, okay?”
“And you didn't think to tell me?”
“I didn't think the guy would show up here!”
Steve scooted closer on the couch. Billy let the photos fall on his lap. “Are there more?”
“No,” Billy said, shaking his head. He fingered the edge of a photo; a younger him, sprawled on his back on the grass. “Just these.”
Setting his chin against his fist, Steve watched Billy look over the photos. “What happened?”
“Some old fucker wanted pictures of me naked. What else do you think happened?”
“He just approached you on the street?”
Colour stained his cheeks, pinkening under his five o'clock shadow. “I saw an ad at this coffee place. Thought it wouldn't be such a big deal.”
“Was it?”
“Was it what?”
“A big deal?”
Billy tipped his head, spreading out the photos. He shook his head again, much slower. “Not really. He offered me more to blow him.”
Red coloured Steve's insides. His throat tightened up. He could imagine Billy then, young and vibrant and too much of himself. “Did you?”
Billy laughed, vicious. “Jesus, no. Did you see that fat fuck? I'd rather saw my own hands off than touch him.”
Scooting closer again, Steve set his palm on Billy's thigh, fingers squeezing. “I've got the negatives if you want them.”
“All of them?”
Steve nodded.
He was silent for a moment, tongue caught between his teeth as he looked over the photos. “Good,” he said, and scooped up the photos, shuffling them into a neat stack and dropping them haphazardly beside his beer.
He stood and Steve frowned, watching him cross the living room, plucking Steve's camera off the dining room table. Halfway back to him, he tossed it. Steve caught it with twitching hands.
“Billy! Christ, don't do that. This is expensive.”
Billy didn't seem to be listening. The TV ran on low in the background, a jumble of noise that didn't register in Steve's brain. Fingers catching the elastic of his waistband, Billy pushed his sweats down off his thighs. He was already half-hard, cock thickening in the neatly trimmed thatch of dark blond hair.
Steve's fingers flexed on the camera. “What are you doing?”
“Getting naked.” Billy kicked his sweats away. One hand slid across his belly, fingertips dancing up the edge of his rib, thumb brushing his nipple. It hardened under his touch.
“Yeah,” Steve said, voice thick, “I can see that. Why?”
“You ask stupid questions,” Billy said, lips twitching up. He pinched his nipple, wrist twisting as he tugged. He hissed, just a little, and did it again. His other hand curled around his cock, fully hard now. When he stroked, his hips twitched into the movement.
Steve stared for another beat, stupid, dick hard in his jeans. He fumbled with his camera, pulling the cap off the lens.
Billy smiled, all teeth. “Good boy.”
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