#yes yes i know this could be a full fic

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

ok.. bagginshield: bodyguard au, bilbo is a paramedic, and has amnesia. PLease i'm BEGGING

Sandy. My dude. I told you I had an idea for this but it became SUCH A BIG THING!! 😮‍💨😍 So I hope you can forgive the late due date with almost 3K of Bagginshield...where I couldn't use Thorin's name! 🤣 So without further ado...

Pairing: Bagginshield

Warning: Blood/Gore-ish

Words: 2638

“Back again, Mr. Baggins?”

Bilbo whirled around to see the nurse at the desk smiling sympathetically at him. It honestly only made Bilbo feel more pathetic as he played with the stems of the flowers he carried. Three days ago, he had done everything he could to help keep a John Doe alive in the back of his ambulance, and still he couldn’t get the comatose patient out of his mind. His cousin, Siggy, was right. He needed help. Or at the very least a vacation.

“You caught me.” He laughed nervously. “No one’s claimed him yet, have they?”

She shook her head sadly. “No, but he did wake up last night briefly! Dr. Greyham is very optimistic about his recovery.”

That was great news. Bilbo certainly hadn’t held much hope when they found him. Bloodied and beaten in an alleyway, responding to a good samaritan call hours after what they presumed to be a mugging. His pulse had been too low, and with the severity of the head wound, Bilbo had been afraid they wouldn’t find much brain activity. If he was in fact waking up though, it did make Bilbo’s visits a bit more awkward. 

“Go on in.” The nurse encouraged. “He may appreciate having someone to talk things out with.”

Bilbo nodded and thanked her as he worked up the courage to enter. His relief was palpable when he saw that the man was still asleep. Just as he had been, Bilbo set his flowers in the vase next to his bed before taking a seat in the visitor’s chair. The man had gorgeous dark hair that was starting to get oily at this point. Bilbo knew he had been subjected to sponge baths for sterilization, but Bilbo mourned the lack of bathing for him. Luckily, they hadn’t had to cut much of his locks when they were stitching his head back together, but there would be a noticeable balding on the right side underneath all of the bandages. Bilbo hoped the man wasn’t too vain about his appearances to pitch a fit at that. Certainly Bilbo has treated plenty who were. The ‘saving their lives’ part falling secondary almost immediately.

Bilbo finally heaved a sigh and pulled his bag of knitting equipment off his shoulder as he settled in for his usual monologue. The first time he had done this, he had felt quite silly and was afraid that the man would wake up at any time to tell him off. However, he has come to find it almost therapeutic, talking to someone who can only listen. 

“Well, Mr. Oakenshield. Not much to add on today. I finally got the last of those stubborn weeds out of my vegetable planter. Only I fear they will just return in a few days. With the rain we’ve been having lately, I wouldn’t expect anything less. You might be pleased to know that Detective Inspector Bard is looking into your case, but has yet to come up with any definite answers to who hurt you. Well, maybe he has. It’s not like I’m privy to police investigations after all. And well, let’s just look at your chart here…oh this is promising! 

Dr. Greyham says that you are showing massive improvement. If you can ever finally pull away from this nasty coma, you shouldn’t expect any lasting damage. That’s quite lucky. Just last week my partner and I responded to a man who had gotten himself crushed under an air conditioning unit and…well I’ll spare you the gory details. Let’s just say that he won’t quite have the motor functions he used to.

I can imagine this is very good news to you. I’m mean, I’d hate to assume, but I’d imagine you enjoy spending time at the gym. After all, nobody your age looks like…that is to say you’re very…oh what the hell, you’re probably about the fittest person I know Mr. Oakenshield. Of course, even though Theo and Hamfast and Siggy all think that’s why I keep coming to visit you, it’s not. You see I’d quite hate for anyone to wake up alone after an ordeal like yours. I’d do it for…any John Doe you see, but I must admit there is something about you that I’m quite…AHH!”

Bilbo jumped out of his chair, dropping his knitting on the bed, as he backed up with a hand over his heart. The man blinked his drowsy, but confused bright blue eyes at Bilbo as if trying to make sense of him.

“I’m so…so terribly sorry.” Bilbo explained breathlessly. “This must all be rather confusing. Let me introduce myself. I’m Bilbo Baggins, I’m the paramedic who worked on you after we found you in that alley.”

“Alley?” The man repeated roughly as if the word were foreign to him.

“Um, yes. Let me just call your doctor real quick.”

Bilbo moved to press the ‘assistance’ button above the man’s head, when his hand snaked out to grab Bilbo’s arm. He felt himself gasp, both at the speed of the reflex and the tightness of his grip. No loss of motor skills, that was for certain. The man mumbled something to him, but it was in a completely different language. Bilbo felt his heart sink. He hadn’t accounted for this. The man was a tourist? That might explain why no one had come for him yet. The only problem was Bilbo was quite sure he didn’t speak whatever language the man was muttering in as it wasn’t Westron and certainly not Sindrian.

“I don’t…understand.” He breathed slowly. “Can you…understand me?”

The man furrowed his brows together before he slowly nodded his head. That was good! He was bilingual at least. Bilbo thought it was best to start with the basics.

“Can you tell me your name?”

The man opened his mouth only to close it and open it once more. After that, a look of horror crossed his face, and Bilbo’s attention was grabbed by the spiking heart monitor.

“No, no! It’s okay.” Bilbo rushed. “This is totally common for an injury like yours.”

Instincts took over, and Bilbo grabbed his hand in comfort as he slowly tilted his chin towards him looking for signs of a concussion. His pupils were certainly dilated and when Bilbo asked him to follow his finger around, it definitely seemed conclusive. Concussions and short term amnesia would be common with this type of injury.

“We’re going to start slow. You don’t remember your name right now, and that’s okay. What do you remember?”

The man took a deep breath as his eyes turned towards the ceiling. Before he could say a word though, there was a knock at the door. It didn’t seem unusual until Bilbo’s gaze fell upon the dry erase board next to the door. The John Doe wasn’t due for check-up for another hour, and Bilbo’s finger never made it to the assist button. Bilbo got up cautiously when his arm was grabbed again, but this time the man’s eyes were wide with panic.

“I remember someone was trying to kill me.”

Cold seeped into Bilbo’s chest as his heart thumped along to the adrenaline surging through him. Bilbo barely had a chance to say anything when the door was forced open. After that, it was like a scene from an action movie. Bilbo was thrown over to the other side of the bed as gunshots rang through the room. Cutting through the mattress that had previously been occupied. Bilbo instinctively covered his head, screaming over the noise, managing to wrench his eyes open just enough to check on the other man. What he saw, stunned him to silence. 

The man was calculated, calm, and seemed to be running off pure muscle memory as his eyes remained wild and afraid. When the gunfire stopped for a moment, the man leapt into action. Taking one of Bilbo’s knitting needles, he shoved it through the throat of the assailant reloading his pistol, using him as a human shield against the second one as he barreled into him. Using his own gun to shoot him in the head. In seconds, Bilbo had gone from thinking he was certainly going to die, to staring at two gruesomely murdered bodies. The man certainly wasn’t done there. He poked his head out into the hallway only to curse and close and lock the door. He looked through the pockets of the dead men on the floor for another clip that he loaded into the gun in his hand with an ease that made Bilbo realize he was dealing with some sort of professional.

“Clothes.” He barked.

Bilbo raised his hands above his head slowly. “C-Clothes?” He repeated.

The man growled before pulling at his hospital gown with impatience.

“My clothes?”

Bilbo pointed at the cabinet behind him. As soon as the man spun around, Bilbo made a mad dash for the door. Before he could reach it, he was pushed up against the wall and held there by the deranged man.

“There are three more out in the hallway ready to kill the first thing that comes through that door. Do you want that to be you?”

Bilbo shook his head rapidly.

“Then help me get out of here.”

“Who are you?” Bilbo gasped after he was released.

The man had his back turned to him as he stripped down to nothing pulling on his bloodied and torn clothing from days ago.

“I don’t remember.” He grumbled. 

“So how do I know I can trust you?”

“Considering the ease I just killed those guys, if I wanted you dead, I would have already done it.”

That was a rather grim, but valid point. 

“Let me ask you something. Earlier, when you thought I was still asleep, you called me ‘Oakenshield’. Why?”

Bilbo could feel his mouth go dry at the question before pointing to the pin on the man’s chest. It seemed to be a coat of arms; only one of the symbols on the shield was an acorn. The man looked down at it as well, his face betraying some amusement. However, he didn’t deign commenting on it as he moved towards the pocket door that was shared between rooms. 

“Don’t you think they’ll be waiting for you?” Bilbo asked.

“Only one way to find out.” The man explained before opening the door, pushing the heart monitor through it, and immediately closing it. 

There was a shout, the sound of feet running towards the room, and more gunshots. The man quickly closed the door again before he or Bilbo could get hit before moving towards the outer door. 

“Go! I’ll cover you.”

Bilbo didn’t have to be told twice as he raced for the stairwell hoping to find safety from this nightmare. He felt the bullets whizzing by before he heard them, and was definitely aware of the man returning fire as he followed after him.

“Only three!?” Bilbo complained throwing himself down the stairs.

“So maybe four!”

They went down a floor, but rather than keep going, the man shoved them into the door for the ER. It was utter chaos as doctors and nurses were trying to secure and placate patients and guests alike. 

“This way.” The man urged, pushing Bilbo through the throng of people trying to get out. 

They found a break room and shoved their way inside. 

“Are we just going to wait here until the police get here?” Bilbo asked hopefully.

He could tell from the stern look he received that was not going to be the case. So what Bilbo was learning was this man had assassin level skills and didn’t trust the police. The situation he found himself in was looking bleaker by the second.

“Paramedic? Right?” The man questioned holding out a jacket with the hospital’s logo on it. 

Bilbo had a sneaking suspicion the plan the man had was going to get him in a heap of trouble. Sure enough, seconds later found him pushing a gurney through ER to the doors on the other side.

“Sir! Just where do you think you’re going?” Bilbo was stopped by a frantic nurse.

Bilbo flashed his ID. 

“Ma’am, this is a comatose patient of Dr. Greyham that can’t be off life support for more than twenty minutes. I’m supposed to get him in a bus and to Tuckborough Medical ASAP. Doctor’s orders.”

She hesitated before nodding, going as far as to call in the ambulance for him. Bilbo was going to have to remember how much he owed the staff at Hobbiton General another time. As soon as Bilbo had the man loaded up, he pulled away the sheet and climbed into the passenger seat next to Bilbo.

“Okay, you gun wielding, knitting needle stabbing manic! I have done everything you asked. I’m most likely going to lose my job for this if they don’t see fit to throw me behind bars. So you better have something you can give me or I’m pulling over at the next police precinct.”

The man grimaced. “I told you. I. Don’t. Remember. I just know they are the bad guys. And they want me dead.”

Bilbo gave a little sarcastic laugh and head tilt. “Oh, great.”

“There is one more thing.”

Bilbo slowly looked over at the man as much as he could without crashing the ambulance.

“It only started to kick in when you called me ‘Oakenshield’, but I was…protecting something…or someone.”

“That’s…vague.” Bilbo complained.

“But this…” The man sighed with impatience before pointing towards the pin on his chest. “Is the clue. It’s the coat of arms for the royal family of Erebor.”

“Erebor?! Like halfway across the world Erebor?”

“Really? Halfway across the world? Where exactly am I?”

Bilbo drew in a shaky breath starting to finally hit the point of ‘too much’. It’s funny. One would think that moment was…oh, about fifteen minutes ago with all the shooting. The other man seemed to realize it as well.

“Look, I’m sorry. You’ve been very kind to me and if you want me to…walk away, I wouldn’t blame you. I just feel like if I’m able to retrace my steps, I’ll find out what was so important it was literally worth dying over.”

“This isn’t a spy movie. You could just be patient and let the healing naturally take over.” Bilbo suggested with a huff.

“Judging by our friends back there, I don’t think I have that kind of time.”

Bilbo looked over at the man one more time. That lost look that has been in his eyes since the moment he woke up was still there. And despite everything he’s seen, everything he’s experienced that should have him running for the hills, Bilbo really wanted to believe him. And help him if he could.

“Alright.” He sighed. “I’ll show you the alley where I picked you up. But after that, I’m done. And if I get picked up and questioned by the cops, I’m telling them the truth!”

“Fair enough.” The man shrugged. “But could you do me one more favor?”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

“Could you stitch this bullet wound in my side?”

Bilbo cursed at the red staining the man’s dark shirt as he pulled over to the side of the road. 

“I expect to be billed for all the times I have to play ‘personal physician’ because I can’t imagine this being the last time.” He complained.

The man let out a roaring laugh that had Bilbo’s cheeks warming all the way to the tips of his ears. This was very not good. It was bad enough when he had a crush on his comatose patient. He had no idea how to handle falling for this bodyguard/assassin/psychopath. Jury was certainly still out on which one he may turn out to be.

[frankiebirds]

will forever thinking about morgan refusing to leave dr. brazier's side while the bomb under her seat is being defused.

i didn't get a good screenshot of it, but he's also holding her hand the whole time.

and then the way he hugs her??

keep in mind he Just met this woman. he has no emotional connection to her beyond the fact that she is a person in distress and he is a person who cares. there is a bomb under her seat that could go off if she moves wrong or they fail to defuse it. if that happens, it will kill her, and almost certainly him too. he doesn't care. he kneels outside her car and holds her hand while she prays because he will not let her be afraid alone. he will not let her die alone, if it comes to that. derek morgan the bottomless well of compassion you are.

[rivalmelty]

they are fukuzawa’s boys, adopted twins, and menaces to the yokohama police

(pls do not tag as beast)

[vilyanenyavilya]

[ragnarokhound]

For the au ask game!

OKAY I wanted specifically to get to the pokemon au from the ask you sent, it's been cooking a bit so it's time to see what comes out of the oven, so... @azol-otl ty for the ask!

Crossover au's are all about the fused worldbuilding for me and speculating on how characters from universe A would fit into universe B heehee hoohoo - and for Batfam especially it's fun to think about the equivalent of their roles as vigilantes! What kind of people have the same level of celebrity, the same sideways seeking of justice?

Naturally this leads you to the gym leaders because a) it's the most fun and b) they are like. Quasi-law enforcement/educators/professional athletes depending on how you try to translate the innate child's perspective on the pokemon universe into something that makes sense as an adult lol ilu pokemon. [insert 'compels me though' gif here]

SO with this in mind, here's 5 fun facts (that are mostly backstory lmao) from a jaytim pokemon au I would write

I'm deeply ill about pokemon so this one goes under the cut lol:

Jason Todd used to be the Champion. He won the role after Dick Grayson quit a year or two before (Dick had been getting older and chafing under the League rules - meaning he'd been chafing under how Bruce ran the League) and was a fierce competitor who didn't believe in going easy on anyone. His Houndoom was a force to be reckoned with, and despite running a mostly Dark-type team, his Honchkrow cleaned up anyone thinking their Fighting-types could sweep. He looked after the League and Gotham with a cocky, self-assured attitude and the win record to back it up. .

Jason disappeared suddenly at the age of 15. Many assumed him dead, after a Rocket (Or whatever Gotham themed gang name we want to go with lol could be Team Joker) bombing in the area he'd last been seen, but he's officially declared missing. Bruce Wayne took back the duties of interim Champion as he once did for Dick Grayson, but he's not quite the mentor he once was. It's obvious he's grieving, and that he doesn't want to mentor any more twelve year olds. Dick signed up to be a Gym Leader shortly after this, returning from his trip about a year early to help out in the chaos following Jason's disappearance. .

Enter Tim Drake. Tim's gym challenge wasn't all that interesting in the circuit at first; he had a rocky start and had to retake a few gym challenges. He wasn't exactly sweeping on his first try every time like Jason had done. He didn't have the meteoric rise that caught the Champion's attention early, didn't get one-on-one mentorship or face-to-face meetings, cautionary advice and congratulations all rolled into one from Bruce Wayne himself - but Tim had patience and grit, and he paid attention. He was gunning for the Championship, and it wasn't just so he could prove himself. Team Rocket/Joker was still out there, and Bruce needed all the help he could get. He was always better for Gotham when he had a Robin. .

Dick had been nicknamed Robin for his all-Flying-type team and especially his Natu-then-Xatu; Jason followed up with his Murkrow-then-Honchkrow; Tim's Rookidee was one among many (Robin-esque pokemon were popularized by Dick and the trend remains through Tim's day) so he wasn't considered a possible Robin successor until it was a Corvisquire and he was about to face Dick Grayson himself, a badge away from Victory Road. By then, Tim and his team were a well-oiled machine (he runs mostly Steel-types lol but also Normal-types for the unexpected adaptability and the 'underestimate my rattata i dare you it's in the top peRCENTAGE--' of it all. FEAR.), and his loss-record had all but frozen while his win-record ticked higher and higher. .

Shit finally goes down about three years after Tim has become Champion and all but bullied Bruce into mentoring him (he basically said 'if you don't watch me, i'll go find Team Rocket/Joker on my own' and triggers all of Bruce's child endangerment traumas simultaneously) and the mysterious Rocket/Joker leader Red Hood shows up, bringing the gang out of the shadows in pursuit of a hidden agenda. Identity shenanigans and "wait is that a Houndoom? But he's only been using Ghost-types, it CAN'T be..." and heel-face turns abound. .

(BONUS FACT: Something something, Jason went into deep cover with Looker or whoever he is, that Interpol guy from X & Y (WAIT. LOOKER MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TALIA AL GHUL IN THIS AU HOHOHO), infiltrating the Rocket/Joker gang and going public as Red Hood is the first step in the last phase of the sting. Cue a million tense Jaytim interactions in which Tim is legitimately trying to take Red Hood down and Jason desperately tries to shake him so that he doesn't do anything that forces Jason to blow his cover. There is at least one 'tugged into a tight space to hide them both from the actual bad guys, "wait, did you just HELP me...?" "Think whatever you want, babybird"' interaction because I am a slut for the first sprinkles of a redemption arc that is rife with UST fufufu)

[caterpillarinacave]

I love Charlotte and Henry and they're super underrated. And I would VERY MUCH like to hear the headcanons whirring about in your brain.

Oh well buckle up cause literally all I think about is head cannons. Like, you know how cells replace themselves every few years? Mine have replaced themselves with head cannons. *Sorry it took me a hot moment to answer this ask, I was busy howling into my pillow whenever I tried to articulate thoughts.*

First of all, they’re very cuddly. They basically sleep on top of each other (Charlotte hasn’t needed a pillow in decades). Henry cant sleep well without Charlotte in his arms and Charlotte can’t sleep well anywhere other than Henry’s arms so it works out. Plus, they both do that thing where they jerk awake like the world is ending and scare the shit out of each other, so sleeping in a hug that basically pins them both down saves some energy at 2am. Henry’s perpetually cold and sleeps under like, four blankets, so Charlotte just wears summer nightgowns all year and wraps herself around Henry like a koala.

Naturally there’s an angsty side to the incessant cuddling because that’s just the way I role.

Charlotte sleeps with her head on Henry’s chest so she can always feel him breathing because, by the angel, she remembers when he wasn’t. She sleeps with a hand on his pulse point because she wakes up in the middle of the night and she’s still half asleep they might as well be on the floor in that mountain and she might as well still be desperately swearing she didn’t imagine his heartbeat.

While on the topic of soul crushing feelings of guilt, y’all remember from Clockwork Angel that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was? And he wanted Charlotte to tell the clave that and she wouldn’t because “they already treat him so badly”? Because I do. And so does Henry.

(I’ve got a whole WIP that I love very dearly about this head cannon and this chess game hehe) There’s one random old tutor who goes to the London institute once a month-ish, basically to hand out a few weeks of homework to any shadow hunters who don’t have their own tutors. Most shadow hunters who live in a more rural area show up a few times a year so the clave knows they’re alive and at least somewhat literate. Charlotte attends them every month since, you know, she lives there, but Henry lives somewhere around Yorkshire so he shows up every few months. The professor is kind of a dick ngl. He doesn’t help Charlotte with any school why would a woman need to be so well educated? “Go on find a husband and stop worrying you’re pretty little head” sort of shit. Henry drives him insane because he’s a) some random kid who’s smarter than him and b) didn’t use any of the professors materials to get that smart. Professor Douche is constantly trying to get him to be wrong about something, or at least flustered about something and he doesnt ever do either of those things, and even more aggravating he refuses to get upset. (He honestly just assumed the professor wasn’t that smart.)

Charlotte’s a really good student of course, but she’s having a shit time with some mathematics and the professor absolutely refuses to help her with it. Eventually she asks Henry if he wouldn’t mind helping her with it, which he’s happy to do (once he figures out that’s what shes actually asking lol.)

Charlotte is incredibly distracted the entire time by Henry’s freckles (and eyes. And hands. And the way his hair curls on the nape of his neck. And the spots of gold and green in his hazel eyes that flashed as bright as the sun when the light catches them. And-), but they get through it in an hour or two which leaves them alone in a deserted wing of the institute. They end up playing a game chess. Charlottes a decent player and thought since Henry had never showed any interest in chess it would be a probably be an evenly matched game. She didn’t know what hit her. He beat her in like, eight minutes, eighty percent of which were spent on the last two moves by Charlotte who, upon realizing she was fucked, spent five minutes staring at the board trying to figure out when he even started beating her. She was sitting there having a whole crisis, (she’d been distracted by a man who probably doesn’t like her, and certainly doesn’t think much of her now after a pathetic loss like that and now she’ll have to sit hear and wallow in failure-) just preparing for him to start that whole smug gloating thing men do when they win and Henry you know. Didn’t. He just put the pieces away and thanked her for the game, in that very genuine way, with the gloomy London evening light casting a depressing shadow across the room, a shadow that he stood out against all gentle, kind, bright and brimming with a sort of barely contained passion. If Charlotte had ever doubted that shadow hunters had come from straight angels then sitting there, looking at a boy stained in soot, who she loved more than anything else to walk the earth, she would never doubt it again.

(It wasn’t until after Henry won and noticed Charlotte hadn’t said anything in a while that he remember people don’t like losing. Honestly he was playing just to be around her and he would have thrown the game if he could conceptualize how to do that on the fly. They spent like five minutes in autistic silence waiting for the other to stand up and declare newfound hatred.)

In true British fashion the a modern tea bag would kill them both.

When they were both 13 or 14 Charlotte mentioned she was dreading winter because it’s so bleak and dark (and her mom had died a few winters before, though she didn’t drop that in casual conversation). Anyways, come winter Henry brought her a marigold preserved in something like resin. She kept it in her jewelry box for years and after they got married she found out he had literally dozens of them. Whenever he came across a particularly bright flower he preserved it and set it aside. He was never quite brave enough to give them to her pre-TID, but he now leaves them for her when she’s particularly sad or stressed. She keeps them all in a drawer- they fit together like little tiles, and still look as fresh as they would had they just been plucked from the ground.

Somewhat surprisingly Henry doesn’t really lose stuff, with the singular exception being his own medical equipment. He’s lost the leg braces he wears every single day of his life before. Charlotte’s not usually speechless but she wasn’t sure what to say to that one.

Henry gave Charlotte a watch with a hands and numbers that can glow the same way a modern day one would. It’s absolutely beautiful, durable and accurate, even if Henry set himself on fire at least four times making it. (They can say with confidence that that watch is fireproof)

—-

Honestly, I could go on and on, then on some more, but technically I’m supposed to be writing a paper on gut micro biomes that’s due tomorrow, so I figured I’d cut myself of. In conclusion, I love them dearly, they love each-other dearly, they deserve the world, all I can think about is them, and the world can pry them out of my cold dead hands.

[fiepige]

Venom!Hobie Cat-Symbiote AU!

Okay so I might have made an AU of my AU...

It's based on my Venom!Hobie au but with a slightly (?) lighter tone in the sense that Hobie actually gets along well with his symbiote. Though they initially mostly get along due to shared mutural trauma... (But more about that later)

This version of the symbiote is more animalistic and usually communicates with Hobie through emotions- sorta projecting its own emotions and feelings towards him to let him know how it feels about something, though it might also communicate via single words or short sentences but that's pretty rare.

So, I'll do like I did in my original Venom!Hobie post and focus on the Design first:

Since they get along the symbiote feels safe around Hobie and thus it'll often "extend" itself outside of him and take the shape of a (freaky looking) cat - Kinda like how VENOM is able to partially seperate itself from Eddie while still being tethered to him:

Like this but they actually get along and the symbiote looks kinda like this:

(Once again- I CANNOT draw but the brainrot is stronger so I need to share this)

(I didn't draw the symbiote goo that would extend from it to tether it to Hobie but it's there I swear!)

Since this is Spider-Punk's symbiote I wanted some of the spikes to carry over in this design

I haven't quite decided if it should have the "running-mascara" look (buttom drawing) for its eyes like Spider-Punk's mask has or not so lemme know what you guys think?

The spikes are used as a way for it to communicate to others as a way to make its body language more expressive (though it only shows itself around people it really trusts so it rarely uses them as it still just communicates its emotions directly to Hobie when it needs to)

And like with Venom!Hobie the spikes are reminiscent of symbiote teeth

When it's relaxed/happy the spikes will be pressed down towards its body - making it easy to pet- if somebody would dare approach it that is

Hobie pets it a lot as it usually sits on his shoulder when he walks around (when there's nobody around that is)

The symbiote is still made of the same goo as regular symbiotes so it does not feel like petting a cat at all- Hobie doesn't mind but most other people find it rather unpleasant to touch

The "fuzzy" look is just the symbiote goo trying to imitate cat fur

The reason the symbiote takes this form is partially because it's more animalistic and likes physical affection (from people it trusts, it will bite your hand off if it doesn't like/trust you and you try to pet it) and partially because Hobie is a cat person and it used it as a method to make Hobie like it more when they first "met" + petting it helped Hobie calm down and still does

It's gotten pretty good at mimicking cat noises including purring

It'll usually stay on Hobie's shoulder or sit in his lap like this, it's still tethered to him so it can't go that far without him - not that it really wants to anyways

If it likes someone it'll rub itself against their legs and mimic purring noises

Okay now we move on to the

Origin:

This is my current headcanon for this AU but as always feel free to share your thoughts/ideas/inputs if you have any <3

Hobie and the symbiote "met" at one of Oscorp's labs

Hobie was living as a homeless teen (13-14 years old having escaped an abusive household a few months prior) and was captured by Oscorp to be used for their symbiote experimentations

Hobie was an easy target as he had just been bitten by the radioactive spider a few hours prior and thus he was starting to suffer from the fever the bite gave him

Hobie was to be fused with a new kind of symbiote

The symbiote had been made to make people more susceptible to orders- making them less inclined to think for themselves

But in order to make that possible the symbiote had been put through some rather painful and extreme experiments- making it more "dead" than alive at this point

When it's fused with Hobie, who's still very sick at this point, the spider bite is still working its magic on Hobie's body and thus it also partially heals the symbiote

Both Hobie and the symbiote are terrified of their situation as they're put in holding cells made specifically for symbiotes.- Their only comfort is each other.

The symbiote takes on the cat like appearance to soothe Hobie after being subjects to a particularly bad experiment

Since Hobie's gotten powers from both the spider bite and the symbiote they quickly become the subjects for many inhumane and painful experiments as the scientists futilely try to figure out how to replicate the symbiote (as they're unaware of the spider bite, thinking the symbiote alone is behind Hobie's new powers)

Due to the symbiote Hobie develops a taste for human flesh

And he gets his first taste of it as he manages to escape the lab during one of their many tests- killing as many guards and scientists on their way out as possible. (This is also the first time they fully transform into Venom!Hobie)

He would later return and burn the lab down completely.

As a result of their treatment at the lab + Hobie's past with his abusive family, both him and the symbiote have developed a deep distrust to other people.

Which is also why Hobie isn't trying to get rid of the symbiote, he considers it his only friend for a long time.

Hobie still loves playing music (which is also how he eventually makes new friends) but has had to make some adjustments due to the symbiote, thus he usually uses both earplugs and noise cancelling earmuffs when he's playing and even then he still gets migraines if he plays for too long or too loud

He still craves human flesh and will usually target cops or anyone associated with Oscorp to sate his hunger.

He doesn't feel bad about killing but will still try not to harm civilians (emphasis on try- sometimes the hunger gets the best of him)

He still operates as Spider-Punk but for a long time he's mostly fueled by his hatred for Oscorp and how they treated him and the symbiote

But as he slowly learns to open up to people he starts to shift his focus onto figting to help people and make the city safer (which means he'll still target cops and Oscorp employees but that's not his only focus anymore) (he also makes an effort to actually save civilians at this point)

Though due to the symbiote and their past this version of Spider-Punk is more prone to just straight up killing his villains (+ he still gotta eat right?)

But I'd like to imagine that this version of Hobie also finds his own community who help him out and accept both him and the symbiote

Giving them kind of a "happy" ending despite this version of Hobie being more messed up and unhinged...

Once again this turned out way longer than I intended lol (I just can't shut up about Venom!Hobie, the brainrot is real!)

Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

(And please let me know if you have any thoughts/inputs/questions about anything I wrote! The brainrot is real and I'll never get tired of talking about this guy)

Also click here if you wanna read more about my Venom!Hobie concept <3

[hecoxthirst]

Thank you so much @punk-gremlin for the tag. For those who don't know how this works, you post the first and last lines of your ten most recent fics (if you have that many fics) 1. Can I guess who kissed me? Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Courtney was the one to bring up the idea for the first time." and "This is the happiest he’s ever been."

2. Alone doesn't suit you Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Ian has been stressing about today since Anthony agreed to meet." and "Anthony nods and places a kiss to Ian’s temple." 3. Sharing bed like little kids Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Sharing a bed with an older version of Anthony feels so odd." and "He wouldn’t want to belong to anyone else." 4. Ivy and forget-me-nots Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Everyone in the world is born with a little bud drawn on their inner wrist." and "Without having to think about it too much, he just does the most natural thing he could do. He kisses his soulmate." 5. Careful what you wish for Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Anthony gradually wakes up." and "Turns out he can get adult Anthony flustered too, after all." 6. No thoughts, head full (of cum) Eddie Clayton/Charlie Ross (Ghostmates) "Charlie is quietly focusing on his work, doing some line art on his new tablet." and "He... has a feeling he’s going to be thinking about this experience for a long time." 7. Good girl Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Ian feels like he’s perfected the fifties housewife look at this point." and "He leans in and connects their lips." 8. Oh let me use you baby, I love you Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "Anthony’s on his bed, hand in his pants, trying to picture touching his girlfriend." and "Whatever is going to happen, he knows they’ll get through it together." 9. A part of me that will never be mine Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "There’s something familiar about this scene." and "So then, why does he desperately wish he could wake up?" 10. What if you closed your eyes Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla (Smosh) "It’s a quiet afternoon, Ian sits on his couch listening to Anthony recount what was going through his mind when they shot the Who Slapped Me video." and "To have Anthony like this, the way he has him now? He’d endure all that and more." I don't know how many people I'm supposed to tag, or who to tag for the matter. I don't know who in this fandom has already done this, but I assume everyone 'cos everyone is just tagging each other lol So I'm gonna throw in a bunch of my friends from my older fandoms! @zeldahime @prewar-james @khazadspoon @feral-teeth @blondeforyou @commander-kiranerys If any of you have already done this or have no interest in doing this feel free to ignore <333 ily guys

[zarvasace]

Look, Vidow will always have my heart, but IM JUST SAYING in "closer-to-canon" post-manga AUs, there is absolutely a case to be made for Link/Shadow

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: That Three-Player Childhood Friends Valicer AMA AU I Mentioned Briefly Before

So -- as per the title, I've talked a bit about this idea before, in the tags of the "Childhood Friends" prompt story I did for OT3 Week earlier this year, and as part of explaining why I chose to reblog the "Take Me Home To My Heart" Corpse Bride fan video for Song Saturday recently. But now it is time to give this AU a Proper Explanatory Post! *thumbs up* So here we go --

-->The basic conceit is that this is a Valicer twist on my old "Somebody I Used To Know" idea (where Victor and Alice were childhood friends before Alice got committed, and when Victor learned about what happened to Alice and started visiting her in Rutledge, he got sucked into the events of American McGee's Alice, going through that game with her. And then Victor managed to accidentally trigger the events of Alice: Madness Returns in the middle of Corpse Bride by inviting her to his arranged wedding to Victoria, accidentally marrying Emily, bringing the corpse bride back to meet Alice in the hopes they could somehow find her family down there -- the shock threw Alice back into Wonderland early, and this time she dragged Victoria and Emily in along with Victor, causing them to all have some interesting revelations about themselves and Barkis Bittern along the way, along with figuring out Bumby's damage). In this world, things are kicked off by that party in the "Childhood Friends" prompt, with Alice, Victor, and Smiler all making firm friends hiding out under one of the banquet tables, sharing stories and snacks and building card castles. Nell Van Dort and Dr. Kelman aren't initially happy that their children spent the duration of the party under a table -- but end up changing their tune when they learn Alice is the daughter of the distinguished Dean Liddell and his wife. So the trio are allowed to stay friends, with the Liddells tolerating the Van Dorts' and Kelman's presence in their lives for the sake of their younger daughter.

-->The trio have a lovely time together, becoming thick as thieves, with Alice introducing Victor and Smiler to Wonderland and them coming up with their own ideas for domains (Victor, who loves playing explorer and trying to hunt down new butterflies, naturally comes up with the Butterfly Jungle, while Smiler, who wants to live in a place where everyone is actually happy and not being tormented by their dad for not being "socially compliant," comes up with Smile Street). Alice and Smiler eventually agree that they both want to marry Victor when they grow up, and Alice designs a house for them all to live in when they're older (it looks like a mirror-flipped version of the Liddell house, with space for Victor to have a butterfly garden and Smiler a chemistry lab). She also makes bracelets for them all to wear out of spare yarn and some red, yellow, and blue beads she salvaged off an old worn-out pillow, because she couldn't find any toy rings and she thinks the bracelets are more fun anyway.

-->And then the Van Dorts host the Kelmans and the Liddells for a visit, and Alice, Victor, and Smiler all have a play wedding with their favorite toys where Alice hands out the bracelets and they all vow to love each other forever and always be friends and such. They then happily go down to tea, and when Nell questions the bracelets, Victor cheerfully informs her that they all got married --

Cue Nell Van Dort and Dr. Kelman both loudly objecting to this (Nell because, while being friends with the Liddells is good for their family socially, Victor can't marry the daughter of a mere Dean, never mind that they're all eight and it's all pretend, while Dr. Kelman is more focused on the whole "you cannot marry more than one person at once and boys can't marry boys, Marmaduke, I don't care what you say you are" side), and all three sets of parents getting into a huge fight, which ends with the visit being cut short and the Liddells and Kelmans heading home. Dr. Kelman gives Smiler the business on the way back and tosses their bracelet out the window of the carriage; Nell Van Dort tells Victor he is not going to embarrass her like that ever again and to get that bracelet out of her sight (prompting him to hide it in his dresser drawer instead of throwing it away in a small rebellious act of technical compliance); and the Liddells comfort Alice as best they can (while also gently explaining that you can only marry one person at once, which Alice thinks is stupid), with Arthur finally going, "Well, at least we won't miss Bonfire Night back home."

-->Yeah, cue the Liddell Fire, and poor Alice being chucked into Rutledge without Victor or Smiler knowing. And, of course, losing her bracelet in the process, because she wasn't wearing it in bed. :(

-->Fast forward to roughly ten years later -- Victor, feeling very anxious about the fact that his parents are shopping around for a wife for him, finds the bracelet in his dresser again and feels inspired to try and reconnect with his childhood friends. He decides to start by writing Alice and asks Mayhew if he could help him secretly deliver a letter --

Cue Mayhew spilling the beans on where Alice has been the last ten years, and Victor, horrified and furious this was kept from him, decides he's going to see her, come hell or high water. He thus sets out from Burtonsville to Rutledge before his parents can stop him, and arrives at the same time a doctor and his child do, with the doctor explaining he's here to help treat a patient. Victor ends up sitting in the waiting area with the kid while the doctor talks to the nurses...

-->And, when the kid gives him a tentative smile, abruptly recognizes them as an older Smiler. The two delightedly reconnect (with Victor being startled by how deep Smiler's voice has gotten, while Smiler is similarly startled by how tall Victor's gotten), and Victor asks if Smiler and Dr. Kelman are here to see Alice too.

Revealing Smiler ALSO had no idea what had happened to Alice and causing them to become similarly furious that no one told them. They inform Kelman that they're seeing Alice along with him -- Kelman is annoyed, but the nurse at the front desk says that if Smiler is a childhood friend, it might help, so he reluctantly allows it. Victor and Smiler thus go in to visit Alice together, and while they're initially shocked by her conditions, they do their best to reach out to her. At first, it doesn't look like it's working...

But at the end of the visit, when they go to leave, Alice does turn to look at them. Dr. Wilson, who has been observing all this, is pleased to see any reaction out of her and encourages the two to keep coming back to see if they can get her any further out of her catatonic state.

-->Cue Victor and Smiler staying near Rutledge and visiting Alice on the regular, hoping to break through to her (the Van Dorts arrive at one point to try and drag Victor back home, but Victor, with Smiler's help, successfully convinces them that he's making them look good by being so kind to this poor mad orphan that has lost her family and gets them to let him stay for a little longer). The pair recount old stories, read books to her, and generally do what they can to hopefully get a reaction -- and in the process, start reconnecting themselves, talking about their lives and where they've ended up (Victor telling Smiler about how his parents are looking for a socially-advantageous match and how he'd really rather be allowed to go to art school or something, while Smiler talks about Dr. Kelman trying to turn them into his successor and how they wish they could strike out on their own as a traveling alchemist or something). For a while, nothing much seems to be happening with Alice --

-->And then the incident with the orderlies spooning porridge all over Alice's beloved bunny happens. Victor and Smiler arrive for their visit in the middle of the whole mess, and while trying to stop the orderlies from retaliating against Alice's attack, see Alice go at her wrists with the spoon. Horrified, Victor screams at her to stop while Smiler tries to get the spoon from her --

Cue Alice looking up and apparently really seeing them for the first time, and collapsing crying in their arms. Dr. Wilson comes and tends to everyone's injuries, then -- once Alice is quiet again -- asks if Victor and Smiler wouldn't mind feeding her from now on, as he thinks they would get better results. Victor and Smiler are agreeable, and indeed Alice almost eagerly eats her gruel when they're the ones holding the spoon. They slowly become more and more involved with her actual care, with Smiler double-checking Wilson's various concoctions so he doesn't accidentally kill Alice while Victor helps keep the superintendent from making a fuss using his family's cash --

-->And then, one stormy day, they're both just hanging out with Alice when Nurse D returns Mr. Bunny after a cleaning. And shortly after she leaves, they all see the rabbit doll turn to Alice and beg her to "save us."

-->Cue all three of them dropping into Wonderland without warning (Victor and Smiler ending up unconscious in the real world, with the frightened staff unable to wake them). Alice is naturally rather startled to have her childhood best friends with her in Wonderland, while Victor and Smiler are naturally rather startled to be in Wonderland. They have a confused reunion before Cheshire urges them to chase Rabbit, and the trio find that Wonderland is in a very bad way thanks to the Queen of Hearts, and it's up to them to set things right...

-->And so the gang travel through Wonderland, going through all the events of American McGee's Alice in a three-player format! With the most notable changes and additions so far being --

a) Alice, rather than wearing her standard blood-spattered blue dress, is in the Ash Dress from the original take on Alice: Asylum (because while I was never a big fan of the various A:A concepts, I loved that dress); Victor is in a dark blue suit that doesn't look that different to his real-life clothes; and Smiler is in a plain pale yellow suit -- though they do also get their glowing yellow eyes and purple-tipped hair to go with it (Victor and Alice are like "???" while Smiler is like " :D ")

b) While I'm not 100% on everybody's weapons for this game, particularly Smiler's, I know we definitely get the trio of the Vorpal Blade, Fork, and Spoon, and Smiler's attacks are still more about stunning people than about actually hurting them

c) While traveling through the various domains, the trio come across a dead and dried jungle that none of them recognize...until Victor finds a weakly-glowing butterfly under the remains of the foliage and realizes to his shock that this is the Butterfly Jungle -- it basically died along with his dreams of being an explorer when he grew up :(

d) Similarly, they also encounter a cobble street with a bunch of unfinished houses and a dried-up fountain at the end -- Smiler clocks it after seeing the spiral clouds in the sky as their old Smile Street, guessing that it never got properly completed after they lost their friends :(

e) While going through the Land of Fire and Brimstone, the trio eventually clock that the Liddell house on the top of the volcano doesn't look quite right -- in fact, it seems to be a mirror image of the real house. Cue one of them (currently I generally have Victor as the one to make the connection) finally realizing that it's not the Liddell house -- it's their house, the one Alice made for them when they were small. Cue them redoubling their efforts to reach it, and finally going inside and getting to enjoy a space that is all theirs --

For about five seconds, before the Jabberwock arrives to burn it all down. >( And then hit them all with their guilt about being the only survivor of the fire (Alice), and not even trying to find out what had happened to Alice earlier (Victor and Smiler). Because the Jabberwock is an asshole.

f) Which makes it even more satisfying when, during the second boss fight against him, the trio all grab the Jabberwock's Eye Staff and just ultra-blast him with its awesome laser >D

g) At some point, the bracelets come up again (probably after Jabberwock Part I), with Alice and Smiler mourning the loss of theirs -- and then Victor revealing he still has his, offering them comfort that at least ONE of the damn things survived

h) Undecided currently if Alice insists on facing the Queen of Hearts alone, or if Victor and Smiler come with -- I mean, the Queen is a very personal enemy for Alice, but at the same time, it feels weird to have Victor and Smiler sit out such an important fight... Hmmm. Maybe split the difference -- have Alice insist on doing the first part of the fight alone after Cheshire gets beheaded to try and spare her friends, only for Victor and Smiler to come help her back on her feet after the Queen's speech and join her for the second phase? Yeah, I rather like that, let's go with that. :)

-->Once the Queen is defeated, everyone wakes up, and Victor, Alice, and Smiler all share a big real-world embrace while the doctors and nurses (along with the Van Dorts and Kelman) try to figure out WTF just happened. XD Alice is eventually pronounced well enough to leave, and the trio finally go their separate ways (the Van Dorts insisting that Victor has to come home now; Dr. Kelman wanting to get back to his own Sanctuary with Smiler; and of course Dr. Bumby arriving to take Alice to Houndsditch), though they vow to stay in contact this time, no matter WHAT life throws at them.

-->...and this is where I run into a bit of a roadblock, because I'm not actually sure what to do with the A:MR/CB portion of the AU. I mean, it's gotta be done, Bumby cannot be allowed to get away with his bullshit, and not only do we have to expose Barkis's murders, we also have to expose Kelman's horrific brain surgeries on innocent people (I in fact already have an idea where Alice's Rutledge hallucination from the second game ends up overlapping with Smiler having a bad time in a hallucinatory Sanctuary, revealing Kelman as a monster in the process)...but I'm not entirely sure a post-AMA Victor would actually go along with being forced into an arranged marriage. Dude would have had to have gained some confidence after fighting all those monsters, right? Though I have had the thought that maybe he would make a deal with his parents to marry whoever they picked without a fight in order to keep seeing Alice (a deal he starts regretting after he starts realizing he's in love with Alice and Smiler post all the nonsense), which would put him in a position to do the Corpse Bride stuff...and would allow me to get Victoria and Emily in on the fun like in the original "Somebody I Used To Know" idea. Go big or go home, right? :p I'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure.

Whew -- that was longer than anticipated! But I hope you enjoyed it. And can maybe offer up some ideas for the A:MR/CB parts of the AU. :p

[kursed-curtain]

Golly gee I love having ideas that may/may not turn out absolutely horrid

...like making an audience participation based fic

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’…”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fan fic Idea: Danny Fenton's Ex

Danny wants to know that he did not go looking for a fight. He merely wanted to have some of the best hot dogs this side of the USA, in Tucker's words. The human world had changed a lot across differnt timelines but his best friend had assure him, this one was particually tasty.

He planned to pop in, hunt down the street cart filled with buns and meat, then pop out of Gotham. He was meant to visit for less than an hour at most.

He just happened to be at the wrong place and time. It really wasn't his fault! Danny had been minding his own business, using a paper map on the edge of a tall building (his phone had broken in the last ghost fight. Not that it would do any good since it wasn't connected to any living towers), squinting at the streets below, hoping to figure out where he was. The next thing he knew, an angry child leaped out at him with a sword.

Of course, he defended himself! The kid was doing some insane slashes in the air, and Danny had fought enough samurai ghosts to know not to underestimate how powerful a katana indeed was. He had been able to beat the child, encasing his arms in ecto-chains, after a full half hour of combat.

Danny had been dead tired- pun not intended- but just as he thought he was done, a second child had leaped out at him. This one carrying a bo-staff. It took another thirty minutes to beat this one, and just as he was gearing up for a lecture, a third child appeared.

She was wearing all purple and seemed to favor strong kicks. Danny had the bruise to prove it, but just as he could take her down—and stop the other two from escaping since they were attempting to do so—he was attacked by an actual shadow and her red bucket-head friend.

Now, those two were difficult to beat, especially when it was two vs. one. Shadow reacted as if she could predict all of his moves before he even made them, while Bucket Head made incredible shots with his guns covering her attacks.

Danny had already been expelled from his other two fights, so it was a miracle he was able to trick Shadow by allowing more of Phantom to bleed into his fighting style. She couldn't predict the dead!

He ended up on a roof with five children- okay, more like a child, two teenagers, and what could be the early twenties, but they were all young to him. Each was tied up securely with some of his own ecto-chains and glaring- he could feel the hate in their eyes even behind their masks- trying desperately to catch his breath.

"Oh boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. " He gasps between huffs. Maybe Sam was on to something when she lectured them for not having enough greens, normal exercise routines, or even taking vitamins. They really weren't teenagers anymore. "Ugh, I think I pulled something. I need to lie down..."

Just as Danny is allowing himself to slide to the floor, two more shadows jump at him. This time he's far too tired to dodge, and the blue one manages to land a drop kick to his chin. The force has Danny spinning in place, losing his balance, and slamming hard against the roof.

The tied-up children cheer, and if he wasn't a walking bruise right now, Danny would be half tempted to show them all a round two.

"Great Gatsby!" He cries out of reflex, rolling onto his back, ready to take a swing-

"Danny?" a new familiar voice cuts in. The sound is something Danny will never forget, even after all the years they have been apart. He used to fall asleep to that voice, muttering into his hair and warm arms wrapped around him, making promises never kept.

Danny whips his head around to see a man in a bat costume. He squits, studying the strong curve of a very familiar jaw and his voice-

"Wayne?" He blinks. Those lips- so familiar and different all in one- curve into a surprise, but please smile. Yes, that is definitely Bruce.

"Danny, I haven't seen you since-"

"You broke up with me through a letter on the hotel note-pad? A note-pad that I had to pay for since you touched it!?" Danny hisses, suddenly energized with pure, unadulterated rage. The man freezes.

"I, uh, see you're still upset about that." Wayne winces, shuffling on his feet- Bruce Wayne, the little human he found wandering the Infinite Realms, rescued, helped, trained, and had become human again to have the man dump him to "find himself."

Danny knew he found a lot of ladies on his self-discovery trip. He never forgave him. It has been embarrassing to have to return to the Realms to his friends' knowing eyes and his sister's sad shrug.

You knew a human could never understand or live with beings like us. We aren't like them anymore. She had told him. It was bond to end in disaster.

"What is happening?" The bow-staff kid asks

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Blue tells him.

Danny ignores them to glare at the man. "What the hell are you doing here, Wayne?"

Wayne frowns. "You used to call me Bruce."

"I used to do a lot of things, Wayne." Danny stands, gesturing to the group of people he has captured. "Can you kindly disappear again? I'm in the middle of something."

The man makes no move to leave. Instead, he tilts his head. "Those are my children."

"Of course they are." Danny rolls his eyes. "Tell them to not attack innocent tourists-"

"Are you here on vacation? Would you like me to give you a tour?"

The familiar words- the ones from their first date- make rage boil in his core. "Oh, go burn in the worst levels of hell!"

He doesn't stick around for a reply, twisting in a tight circle and ripping a hole into the Realms. He ignores Wayne's call of his name; it's too late- fifteen years too late- and shifts back into Phantom.

He prays he never sees that deadbeat again. Or the family his wife gave him. Not that Danny cares; it's been years, and he could care less what Bruce Wayne and his stupid kin got up to.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Bruce, I say this with all my heart, what the fuck was that?"

"That was the one I let get away."

There is a moment of silence before Damian speaks up. "I demand to be taken out of my misery. Mercy, kill me now, Drake."

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

est. word count: 10-15k [fat chance]

est. release date: 10th September

warnings: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], angst, statistics, more to be added in final post

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

‼️ JOIN THE TAGLIST by sending an ask or replying under this post. AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG ARE NECESSARY. ‼️

[a/n]: first look into the TA collab fic!!! @camandemstudios has been along time in the making and I cant wait for you all to read all of the fics in full. accept this piece offering from me and please let me know what you think of it so far!

masterlist

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, Mingyu blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he genuinely wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and wording were the problem.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as the next words leave you in a low voice, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he says it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered different colours of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

It’s only then that you spot the segregated stack of papers in your bag that you remember. 

“I almost forgot,” you say, grabbing the pile and placing it in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he says something. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”