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gutterfuuck · 4 months

Note

bro bro hear me out

you’re like the only mark writer out there so i NEED THIS TO HAPPEN PLS.

frat boy mark x sorority girl reader.

PLLLLLEAAAAAAAASEEEEEEEEEEE.

enough — !

this idea was so good, i had to start writing before i lost my mind and forgot!! you are such genius. this is probably a little off topic(?) as what you were thinking!! sorry if it is not what you expected, however, i will be using this idea in future so if you do not enjoy this, i will be writing another that is more enjoyable to you!! (with credit to you of course as the original anon!!) the frat name is an abbreviation because i couldn’t come up with one 😭😭

cw: reader is like 2 years older than mark? idk they’re both in their 20s, no superheroes/abilities au!!, william is in here for a bit i love william #williamforpresident2024, alcohol, typical college frat/sorority type parties, the start is quite long sorry i got carried away 😭, dubcon(?), reader is a bitch lowkey, mark gets mean, smut, headlock, piv, degradation, mark gets really mean ouh, creampie hehe, typical sparkie fic it’s evil and hiding under your bed like the babadook or something, aftercare at the end cuz i got soft

a/n: i was supposed to release this yesterday night though have had to edit and spellcheck this myself!! i am quite proud as this is probably the longest fic i have written without any editing from my friend!! if you notice small mistakes no you didn’t

he’s had it with you.

it’s only been a few months since he’s started college and he’s already way behind everyone else. you didn’t have a care in the world, you’d already completed college!! yet you still stay in your old dorm room, bunking with someone who had gotten lucky and left without a roommate, you payed whatever rent you felt like. you just enjoyed the college scenery, the lifestyle, you never wanted it to end… most of all, you loved your sorority. you were well aware that you might’ve looked a little bit like a loser, still hanging out with the sorority with ever changing members. you didn’t care, you were practically in charge, their leader - the queen bee. and that’s what got on his nerves.

you see, you’ve been handed life on a silver platter. a sweet 16th birthday party with a car bought just for you, spoiled absolutely rotten. mark couldn’t really talk, but at least his family came from humble beginnings, you’ve always had your money and status. you’ve always gotten what you want, even if you had to play the long game. the long, hard, boring game... which people could only stand for five minutes or less, what with your constant whining sounds and your foot stomping on the ground, pouting with your arms crossed over your chest. whatever you wanted, people just gave to you. handed themselves on a silver platter… not him. never him.

mark had a love-hate relationship with you. on one hand, you were hot, stunning… he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about you some nights, just like the other guys he hung around with.. on the other hand, you were nothing but a spoiled brat. he remembered the first time you’d come bolting at him as he stood at the doorstep of your sorority house, confusing it with the other one he’d supposed to have showed up at on his first day. you threw your arms around him as your head pounded from last night’s heavy drinking, your only sober thought being “i hope the other girls don’t get to him first.”

“fresh meat huhhh… i *hic* always like the newer ones… you like to party..?” you ask, swaying around with your arm around his like you’d known him for years let alone five seconds. mark tensed, expression shifting to slight annoyance as you almost crumpled over, dragging you back up by your shoulder gently. “no. do you know where house 242 is?” you pout at him, wavy finger pressing to his cheek and wobbling a line down his face before he smacked your hand away, tutting at you and looking around the front porch of your sorority house. bingo. mark shook you away, trudging towards the folded up lawn chair he had spotted, bringing it back and unfolding it for you. you’d annoyed him, sure, but his mother had taught him to be nice to girls.

actually, he pitied you. mark thought he could read between the lines, thought you being drunk at 11am on a wednesday morning must’ve been because you were hurting about something, someone, someplace… debbie’s words before she dropped him off in the car two days prior played in his head, ‘you never know what people could be going through, so be kind.’ as much as you’d bothered him so far, he was still inclined to make sure you were at least sat down to minimize risking an injury. you flopped down into the chair, groaning when you bumped your spine against the metal frame of it, tilting your head back to look up at him. he stared down at you with tired brown eyes, stoic expression not registering to you in your drunken state. at least you were pretty.

he clears his throat before he talks again, unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket, “house 242. do you know how to get there?” your eyes widen, mouth falling open with an excited gasp, “shut up! you are not in OOA!” you slur loudly, attempting to get up from your seat but dropping back into it as your socked feet slipped on the grassy ground below. mark gave a sideways smile and nodded slowly, he hadn’t been given the frat name yet, only the house number. mark didn’t want to have to walk around campus with a drunk sorority girl, you were only dressed in a night dress and a loose jacket, people would get the wrong idea! but, if he had no choice (and he didn’t really feel like walking around campus and looking for the house for the third time today) he’d have to have you as his temporary guide of sorts. this was so embarrassing, he really hoped nobody would think of him as a scumbag.

after watching you flap your arms and get all excited about his frat, you wobble towards the house, rushing to put on a pair of shorts and a tank top, slipping your feet into your fluffy pink slippers, a staple. because of you, no other girls apart from your sorority would wear pink shoes around campus. and you wondered why people had branded you, and your little minions who wanted to be like you, as a bully of sorts. actually, if you thought for more than twenty seconds about it, you’d know people’d rather stay on your good side: you were rich, pretty, stole people’s boyfriends on the regular, confronted those who you thought were competition and you were allowed to basically do as you wanted. because daddykins’ best friends with the dean and the dean makes wayyyy less than your dear old dad and your father bends over backwards for you so if you wanted to waste your degree you fucked and paid yourself to, then you absolutely could.

when you both start walking, you attempt to interlock your arm with his, twisting your face up in disbelief when he rejected your advances. nobody had ever, ever, in the history of ever, done that to you. you want to stamp your foot on the ground but you resist, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. maybe he was just shy, you’d met guys like this before. new, shy, never had a pretty girl at his side like this… you got it, you really did. you’d take this as a loss, you’d soften him down later, OOA liked to party and you hadn’t seen a new member who hadn’t drank on their first night yet. you’d know, you’d been doing this same routine for almost three years. fresh meat, lost little lamb, needs the drunk pretty girl’s help ‘cause OOA was pretty hidden away, slipping your arm into theirs to tease them, walking them to their new hangout… coming back before seven on the evening and flirting your way into the new guy’s pants, blocking them when they try to contact you before moving on to the next one… one step had already gone south in your plan. you’d take it on the chin this time. he was cute and you’d already claimed him as yours, the other girls would know as soon as they saw him.

the path you both walked on faded into the concrete, a grassy path appearing as you spotted some guys outside of the house, a keg of beer already being set up this early in the day. mark thought maybe he’d made a mistake jointing the same frat his father had during his own college days, the promise of the frat being quite calm and collected faded away from almost three decades ago, the newer generation of young adults poisoning the good name his father had gone on and on about. sure, nolan had drank during his college years but parties and alcohol were never kept at OOA.

you see, mark wasn’t the average frat guy type: not loud, not obnoxious, actually wanted to learn and grow from his college experience and make some new friends. good friends, not meatheads who didn’t know their asses from their elbows. he hoped at least one person in that house was capable, sighing quietly to himself as he unenthusiastically approached the house with you. a guy waved at you, you waved back with a giggle as another set his drink down, announcing to the other guys that “y/n was here”. oh, so you were just a slut then. you don’t know what people could be going through, so be nice. he rolled his eyes internally, feeling slightly guilty with his thoughts as a red plastic cup is thrust into his chest by someone he’d found familiar, looking up to meet william’s eyes, his stone face cracking into a smile. he hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slipped away from him, chatting with some guy who stood shirtless with a concoction of different liquors that made him blink too slowly, constantly shifting from foot to foot to maintain his balance.

“what happened to not wanting to join us?” his friend asks as mark takes the cup into his hand, smelling the contents of the drink before he decides not to put it to his lips. it was way too early to day drink, he hadn’t even put his backpack down yet, “changed my mind, dad was on my ass about it, i just didn’t want the headache when i go visit.” he shrugged, eyes wondering over to you, watching as you let that guy hug you from behind, a strange feeling bubbling up in his gut. he wasn’t sure if he felt shame or disappointment that you hadn’t stayed with him, no longer worried about how weird it would have looked to walk around with you intoxicated. he looks away before your eyes meet his again, attention shifting back to william and whatever he had been babbling on about before he’d started daydreaming. “…and that’s why- mark? are you listening?” william snapped his fingers at him, shaking him out of his absent looking gaze. william looks behind him, in the direction mark had been staring in, slowly nodding his head with an eyebrow lifted when he looks back at mark again, “oh, right. i get it.” he smirks, mark’s red tinted cheeks being confirmation. “shut up, she only bought me here ‘cause you weren’t answering your texts.” he retorts, shaking his head when william gives him a knowing look.

that was the first day he’d met you. mark didn’t go to the party that night, much to your disappointment. instead, you spent the night in the lap of one of the jocks you’d settled on as a compromise, swigging back shots of vodka and rejecting his advances. he had a tiny cock anyway, you’d seen it before when one of the girls in your sorority received a picture of his dick and squealed about how gross the foreskin looked. you weren’t gonna fuck this guy, partly because you didn’t feel like it and partly because you were disappointed that you hadn’t gotten to see more of mark. you’d see him around campus, catch him staring at you outside sometimes. every interaction was short lived, always being shut down by him. hard to get was by far your least favourite game and there was no way mark would be able to resist someone like you! this had to be the twilight zone or something.

you’d tried everything at this point, low cut shirts with short skirts that exposed the bottom of your butt, shorts that should class as panties with how they barely classed as shorts, bikinis, standing outside his frat house while he was in it and being sprayed by beer in a wet t shirt contest, the works!! you had never been so offended, he just acted as if he didn’t even see you! it’s been four months now, four months of being basically celibate due to your petty “if he cant take me, nobody will have me” mentality. god, you were acting desperate. it embarrassed you, you hated working hard for things that should come as easy as one, two and three. while you thought your attention seeking streak was getting you nowhere, mark’s brain was going into overdrive.

“i just don’t get why you’re so… worked up about it.” william says as he sips from his mug that held coffee - the irish kind since he had a migraine from yesterday’s party and felt the only way to recover was to drink more - sitting with his leg crossed over the other on the sofa with mark who typed away on his laptop, “worked up? worked up?” mark repeated, never looking up from his screen, “come on. i’m sure she didn’t mean it-“ william began, sentence cut short by mark slamming his laptop down, getting up from the couch to put it on the kitchen isle, eyebrows furrowed. he was talking about how you’d ‘accidentally’ taken his jacket instead of yours and when he’d asked for it the morning after, you’d sent one of your sorority minions outside to tell him that they had no clue where the jacket or you was- only to see you walking around campus in it like it belonged to you a minute later, returning to the sorority house with drinks in a little black plastic bag. he had to walk back in the rain, his shirt soaked and blood boiling. yes, the jacket wasn’t a big deal. what william didn’t know was that he was mad because for the last few weeks, you’d been at the parties he’d been at. not only that but you’d always have a different guy all over you, always looking over to him, almost like you were doing it on purpose.

“yeah sure, i’m sure she didn’t mean to spill her drink all over me last week and steal my jacket yesterday, y’know, the one i needed to get home in the rain… oh, i’m sure she didn’t mean to break the fucking tv- the only one we have, when she came over for beer-pong.” mark spits back, pinching the space between his eyes with his index and thumb. william rolls his eyes, sipping away at his coffee without a care in the world. “and i’m sure she didn’t mean to make me miss nearly all of my classes.” he finishes, which makes william turn his head towards him with a smile, “oh, i’m sure y/n physically kept you from going to class.” william tuts, standing up and walking out of the room, “last time i checked, she doesn’t even go here…!” he said as he walked off, refusing to argue with mark. william was right, you hadn’t stopped him from attending classes. he’d just become a little obsessed maybe, wanted to keep an eye on you just in case. mark could only think back to the first day he’d met you, how you’d been drunk from before noon and how you looked like you needed help, how his mother’s words buzzed around in his head… he still hung onto that, taking himself up as your personal guardian angel without your knowledge.

you open your phone when you leave the shower, whatever music that had been playing through it stopping as you pressed pause to focus on the words on your screen:

william🤞

prty @ 242 6pm. bring back his jacket 🙄

you tilt your head slightly before you remember what he’s talking about. you dry your hands, opening your phone to respond,

y/n

omw ❤️

is all you type, not bothering to look at the notification that made your phone buzz before you rush to your little vanity, ready to doll yourself up for the evening and throw on some clothes, pairing them with the jacket you’d now have to return. you get an influx of messages on your phone suddenly, the group chat of the girls in your sorority letting you know that they’d also be attending, emojis and gifs and reaction images galore as you scroll through your phone. the girls wanted to go colour coordinated, all in the same pink miniskirts and black tank tops. you, however, wore a black miniskirt with a pink tank top, just to differentiate yourself from the rest of your hive. you didn’t remember exactly when you’d gotten william’s number but he was useful at times. plus, you thought he was pretty fun to hang around with! that, and the fact that he was mark’s best friend.

when you get to the OOA house music is already blaring and some of the boys are already sat out on the porch, some members of your sorority had shown up a few minutes prior. probably the new girls, you think, knowing the other girls wouldn’t make a mistake as grave as showing up earlier than you. for once, you’re gonna let it go. you were in a good mood today, felt like you were finally going to get your hands all over that slippery prick. you didn’t know why you had your sights set on him, you could be with literally anyone else. you told yourself it was pride, he’d offended you by rejecting you. pretty girls never knew when to quit, especially the rich and spoiled ones like yourself. you made heads turn towards you, as per usual. compliments flooded into your ears, dry “thank you”’s and “aww you’re so cute”’s leaving your mouth, hiding the scowl you had plastered under your perfect demeanour.

you scanned the room, looking for one person in particular, pushing away drinks that had been offered to you before you decided to just give up, plopping yourself down on the same sofa mark had been typing his essay on hours prior, finally giving in when william approaches you, swaying a little as he walked, already wasted by the looks of it. you put on a fake smile, trying to stop yourself from having a full on temper tantrum over not being able to find the guy you’d gotten all dressed up for, wearing his jacket, having no fun at the party his frat house was throwing. william opens his mouth before closing it again like a fish, trying to find his words, “y-you came..!” he speaks loudly, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of you, already littered with other people’s drinks as he throws his arms around you in a hug, “duh, it’s not a party til i’m here.” you say, your friendly tone threatening to falter as you looked down at your nails, observing them as if they had better things going on. you return his drunken embrace, giggling when he accidentally spills his drink on himself.

“you bought it, good..! you wouldn’t believe his b-..b-bitching- earlier-“ he covers his mouth with his hand to stop himself from burping at the last part of his sentence, gesturing towards the jacket you had draped over your shoulders to which you nod and smile, patience wearing thin. if william was here then where the fuck was mark? you wanted to ask him where the rest of him was, though didn’t think he’d understand as fast in his drunken state. tipsy wasn’t even the word. “it just looked so similar to mine, ha!” you lied, finally taking one of the empty cups out of the plastic sleeve and helping yourself to the bottle of vodka that stood in the middle, pouring orange juice straight into it afterwards to try and mask the sharp taste. william laughs, you drink.

“actually- he’s upstairs. studying or whate-ever.” william points to the ceiling, brushing some of his hair out of his face, “i can go give it to him if you like-“ and just like his conversation with mark earlier, he’s cut off short again by you springing up with a no, forgetting about your drink as it spilled over the rim, the whole thing splashing over your shirt. you gasp and squeak, william tries to stifle a loud laugh that would’ve bought all of the attention to you. even while drunk he knew not to put his reputation on the line, and his reputation he did kind of value. nobody wanted to draw unnecessary attention to you, the last person who had done that had been trashed so badly they had to move out of the state after a few months of non stop rumours. you sigh, defeated as you pick up someone’s jumper - they shouldn’t have left it out in the first place if they didn’t want you to use it as a cloth - and trying to soak all of the alcohol out of the black fabric. “bathroom upstairs- mark’s in the room to the r-right— ugh, i’m gonna throw up,” william says as he retches, cheeks puffing out before he takes his leave, sprinting into the back garden to puke in a plant pot. a few more compliments, you’re flirted with by a guy for like five minutes, you take a few more swigs of someone else’s drink and you’re headed upstairs, looking for the bathroom and hoping nobody had started fucking in there so you could act out your ever developing plan.

your eyes lit up when you successfully pushed the door and it wasn’t locked, closing it behind you and twisting the latch so nobody would intrude on you. lifting your shirt over your head, you’re careful to not let the fabric ruin your makeup. the next thing that’s discarded is your bra, winking at yourself in the mirror and jiggling your boobs experimentally, making sure your girls looked their best. you then put mark’s jacket on, sleeves coming past your hands as the hem just barely missed your knees. you didn’t hang out or interact with him often, you never get the chance and it’s frustrating, but you’re reminded of the potential size difference between you and him when you put on his jacket. showtime. if this didn’t get you laid tonight, you’d have to get a new name and move out of the COUNTRY out of embarrassment of coming off as desperate. to the right, a door that had large posters on the surface, some stickers peeled away and faded from years of being piled up on the door. a sock on the handle. no fucking way.

this had never happened before. nobody had ever wanted to fuck someone else before sticking it in you. you wanted to scream, rip your hair out and stomp your feet until you fell through the fucking ceiling. this wasn’t fucking happening, the boy you’d had your eyes on was not fucking another girl in this room. you saw red, the reality of not getting your way this time hitting you hard, your hand flying to the handle to twist it open, ready to have a cat fight if necessary. you felt like a steaming bull, felt like steam was coming out of your nose and ears cartoonishly. you didn’t even know what you were gonna do when you saw him and whoever the fuck that stupid bitch was, all you knew was that you hadn’t gotten what you wanted and it was time to let everyone know that.

you’re ready to bite his head off, both of them, blind rage taking over before you lay your eyes on the sight in front of you. he sat with his legs open, pants at his ankles with his head thrown back momentarily, hand going up and down between his thighs with his other hand holding up his shirt before he’s shuffling to cover himself, wide eyed and cursing with his cute face all beet red. “o-out..! get out-!” he stutters, voice cracking as he rushes to close the door, traping you behind it again. you’re stunned, never seen anything so… erotic before. you wished he wore shorts, the way his toned thighs flinched and tensed made you want to slide yourself up and down them, the small snippet of his abs you wished you’d had a longer look at before being blocked from entering… why’d he hide his body away for so long you’d never know. oh how you wished you’d seen his dick, imagining it made your mouth water. you shake your head, clearing your mind to prevent it from clouding with thoughts of lust, you couldn’t have your pussy leaking just yet. were you really so desperate for dick that you’d get wet without even seeing it? just the mental image of him, lip tugged between his teeth, pleasured expression barely visible? get your act together, you thought, breathing heavily before steadying yourself, standing up straight and knocking on his door.

“maaaarrrrkk…” you whine loudly, fist slamming against the posters, “i didn’t see anything, i swear..! but… i also won’t tell anyone if you let me in.” you offer teasingly, smiling wide when you heard a loud groan from the other side, followed by loud footsteps, followed by the door swinging open, mark avoiding your gaze with gritted teeth. he also wasn’t stupid, also had a reputation to keep squeaky clean. he’d had enough of you. for real, this time. he had enough of how you were the bitch who could make or break him if he ever slighted you in any way, had enough of the way you taunted him from afar, had enough of your complete and utter rudeness - who the hell even barges in when there’s a sock on the door? - he’d just had enough. he stood there, arms crossed as you took in your surroundings, blue and yellow scheme familiar to the clothes he wore... then it hit you, this was mark’s room. it wasn’t weird to have people living at a frat house, some people owned them. you wondered how he felt having to listen to music and people yelling and drinking all night, though that thought was quickly brushed away by mark’s voice,

“that’s mine.” he says bluntly, cheeks still pink as he points to his jacket that you wore, still standing at the door like some sort of bouncer. you nod, closing the door behind you and ignoring his words, “nice room y’got… seance dog? how old are you?” you joke, helping yourself to the shelf where stacked comic books stood, picking one up and flicking through it. mark walked towards you, snatching it out of your hands and putting it back, “again, that’s mine. i want my jacket back, y/n. then you should leave.” he spoke matter-of-factly, glaring at you for a second as you rolled your eyes, sitting on his bed and making yourself at home. “ugh, you’re still mad about it? i’m sorry we have the same jacket. i was drunk! fuck, man.” you shoot a glare back, yours with a grin. he’s had enough. he was at his boiling point, red hot rage was about to start bubbling over and you were the person he didn’t really want to take it out on. “y/n, i’m not gonna tell you again.” he warns, scowling at you as he approaches, fists balled up into his hands. this was probably the part of him people could most see his father in, his expression when he got angry. it didn’t scare you, it made you want to tease him more. so he thought he could intimidate you? he had another thing coming.

“you can’t make me. i’ll scream, you want everyone to come rushing up here?” you wouldn’t, you were only teasing. like a bolt of lightning, he’s tugging the zip of his jacket down, attempting to take it off of you and kick you out himself. you grabbed onto the zipper, trying to block his hands away from zipping it down any further, “taking back my shit and you can get the fuck out of here-“ he muttered, ignoring your sounds of protest, “mark— stop it, i’ll go i just-“ he doesn’t care, he’s trying to force your hands away, slapping at them and trying to restrain them to your sides, “shut up, shut the fuck up, give me back my fucking jacket, now—! you’re a liar, your jacket is hot-fucking-pink!” he’s more violent, grabbing the front and damn near shaking you around, your legs trying to kick him away, “m-mark, please-! stop, stop it!” there’s almost tears in your ears as you try to fight him off, remembering how you’d taken off your shirt and left it in the bathroom, with your bra.

mark couldn’t care less about his jacket or if it would be ruined, it was about the principle. more pulling, more trying to hold your hands away, more grabbing the jacket and trying to pull it off before— schzzzzt. fuck. the zipper popped, your protests stopped and mark’s huffs calmed down, eyes settling on your bare chest. tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him, not expecting to have his eyes meet yours. he looks pissed, he’s had enough of you. right now, mark didn’t give a shit about what you were going through, didn’t care about being nice. you’d tipped him over, now he’s really annoyed with you. “mark,” you shuffle away, jumping with a surprised gasp when you feel his hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back to your place, the action making your skirt and his duvet catch on each other, hiking your skirt up to expose your underwear. it was like he wasn’t even looking at your body, keeping his eyes on yours at all times. you open your mouth again and his hand flies to your face, covering your mouth to prevent you from talking at all. now you’re scared, now you’re intimidated. so scared, yet your stomach flipped and your cunt fluttered around nothing when he silenced you with his palm.

“shut up, you bitch.” he snarled, tightening his grip on your face by pushing your cheeks together. it almost hurt, almost. mark shook his head, “what’s wrong with you? you wanna make me mad? for fucks sake—“ his words make your clit throb, your thighs slowly shifting to meet each other so you could move your hips around and get yourself off a little. this was hot, mark was serious. “you’re gonna scream? what the fuck, y/n, what the fuck is your problem!?” you’re wet. fuck, you’re wet and you’re being yelled at. this was the shit you’d see in porn, but for real. no acting, just a coincidence. when he lets you go to get off of you, he finally lets himself catch a glimpse of the wet spot that’s forming in your panties. he should’ve never looked, now he’s caught a sneak of your tits. the noise he makes is halfway between a groan and a sarcastic chuckle, pushing his hair back with the same hand he used to cover your mouth, “now you’re gonna go and leak all over my bed? after trying to go through my stuff?” mark can’t ignore the way his cock strains in his pants, the way it twitches as he glances over you again. any normal person would’ve ran out of his room, trying to cover themselves with the broken jacket and probably never speak to him again. then again, you weren’t a normal person, you were rich. hadn’t ever been told no or been scolded like this before or at all for that matter. you were truly stunned, felt like a deer in headlights.

“m’sorry, sorry..” you finally peep, sniffing as tears dripped down your face. he groaned, clearly annoyed by your antics now, “now you’re gonna cry? now you’re crying, you did this. stop crying, they’re not real tears.” he spits and you obey, quickly wiping your face, black streaks of mascara on your hands as well as your face. fuck, you looked gorgeous like this. you clearly wanted it. you didn’t look like you did, if anyone had burst through like you had earlier they’d definitely get the wrong idea - the worst idea - the kind of idea that stops you from getting a job in your desired field in the future if interpreted the wrong way. mark swallowed thickly. “y’gonna scream?” he asks and you shake your head no without even processing the question, looking up at him with big wide eyes.

you’re on your stomach, clawing at the bedsheets and messing up the way he’d made his bed this morning, face being pressed into a pillow by a heavy hand, mark’s hand. he’s thrusting into you, hips crashing violently against yours over and over again, got your legs trapped between his as he’s using you like you’re a toy, his other hand gripping onto the fat of your ass to help the momentum of his thrusts. your moans are muffled, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his pillow as you kept your head pressed into the soft cotton pillow, taking in his scent. god, he was jabbing right against your cervix and you let out a particularly loud whine which makes the brute above you lean in to you, his chest pressing against your back so he could talk into your ear meanly, “what’s that? i can’t. fucking. understand. you.” he punctuated each word with a sharp jab into your g-spot, your wrists aching from how hard you were grabbing around at the sheets. he knew you hadn’t said anything, just wanted to tease you like you’d teased him. he’d stripped you naked before you were taking his cock so deliciously right now, tearing your panties off and shaking you out of his jacket which laid beside you. now this was worth playing the hard to get game.

“hey, y/n? you wanna scream?” mark said, sweat beading at his temples as he moaned when he felt your gummy walls close in on him with his words. you shake your head, an almost inaudible ‘no’ coming from the pillow before his arm is hooked around your neck, lifting you up. this new position made you arch your back, leaving you in a dreamy daze as your eyes adjusted to the light of the room again after having your head forced down for so long, “i said, you wanna scream?” he repeats, you shake your head, “n-no-! no, m’m-sorry fuck, mark, i’m sorry—!” you squeal, voice hoarse as he tightens his arm, putting you in a headlock and moving his other hand to your stomach to hold you in place. he was moving so fast, his fat dick throbbed and stretched and rubbed against allll the right places. no other boy had fucked you til your head spun, made you feel so defenceless and inferior… you’d never been filled up this good, you’d been choked, sure - but a headlock? your cunt gripped him tightly, vision dotting as your body shook violently in his grasp, his fingers now swiping over your hard little clit, making you try to stifle the loud half scream of his name somehow, biting your lip with your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

“that’s fucking nasty.” he moaned, watching as you sprayed all over his sheets with your body convulsing, hissing when your pussy started to milk him vigorously as you came. he didn’t stop, only let go of you and watched as you thumped onto the bed weakly, trying to lift yourself up before he’s drilling you with his cock again. you’re hardly responsive, body still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, not even noticing how you’d laid in your own release until you blinked a few times, the feeling finally coming back into your body that mark had knocked numb for a second, “p-please-“ you gasped out, hand reaching down to tap at his thigh. he swiped it away, grabbing your wrist and jerking your body back to meet his, obsessed with the way your bodies made smacking sounds when he snapped his pelvis into your rear. “you gonna bother me again after this? look at you, you’re lying in your own mess- oh fuck, keep tightening like that—“ he growls into your ear, balls slapping against your sensitive clit from behind. you couldn’t think, your thoughts being fucked out of your brain with every rough jab to your cervix, words forming and failing to put them together into understandable sentences. he’s just as blissed out, his anger had faded forever ago, replaced by a carnal urge to just fuck, keep plunging himself in and out of your weeping cunt.

you whine when he pulls out with a pop, lines of your slick coating his cockhead and sticking to it before they snapped and dribbled down onto the soaked sheets below you, his hands grabbing your waist so he could flip you onto your back this time, taking you by surprise and finally waking you up out of whatever dreamy daze you’d been in. this is just how you felt earlier but better, you were scared of him sure but you’ve never been so turned on, you’d never had someone defy you before, you asked for a pony when you were younger and threatened a tantrum which got you your pony, your parents would rather give you whatever you wanted instead of saying a simple no. you stare up at him, he stares down at you. call you crazy, maybe you were finally being put in your place, but having someone hover over you like this, possessive and firm, made you feel as if you had no power at all. mark didn’t care about who you were or what you could do to ruin him anymore, especially since he’d already ruined you. mascara streaked down the sides and front of your face which made tracks in your foundation, your lipstick had been smudged from having your face pressed into the pillow for so long and you were pretty sure you were missing an eyelash (which you were; stuck to the bedsheets and twisted and ruined, you’d have to buy another pair).

mark grabs one of your legs with his hands, pulling you close to him as he leaned in, body pushing your knee up to your shoulder albeit a little painfully, eliciting an uncomfortable mewl from you in the process. you felt as if you couldn’t talk, if you opened your mouth you’d die or something. you’d taken mark for a virgin what with the way he awkwardly shuffled his feet when you spoke to him, the way he never picked up on or wanted to pursue your advances. “don’t look at me like that.” he grits, eyebrows furrowing at the way you pouted at him. you hadn’t even noticed but now you’ve made him mad so now he’s pushing into you again, spearing you open on his dick wet with your slick, your expression changing as you raised your brows, eyes squeezed shut with your mouth hanging open like you were trying to catch flies. he moves his hands, hooking them under your knees so he could pull you back and forth against himself, cock throbbing and begging for release when you start tightening again, lewd gasps and moans coming from your spit slicked and ruined lipstick lips. he can’t stand you, can’t stand the way you’re moaning and trying to say his name while having all knowledge knocked out of you over and over again with stabs repeatedly hitting that same sensitive spot with brutal thrusts, hoping your hips didn’t break every time his crashed into yours.

then, a moment of weakness, “am i pretty?” you ask between whines, small and timid like a rabbit. he’s broken out of his current demeanour, tilting his head. mark feared he’d falter, he’d already given you what you wanted by using you like you were nothing but a warm crevice to slide his cock into. you already knew you were pretty, you just needed to hear it from him. needed to hear it from the guy you’d been chasing for months since you’d stumbled upon him, needed to have confirmation that he was attracted to you. his thrusts almost slow down - almost - before he nods, biting his lip to stop the groan that wanted to respond, “y-yeah, pretty..” mark finally mumbles, hips stuttering as the warm coil that tightened in his stomach threatened to snap. you could feel it too, you could feel the way his cock throbbed, the way the head twitched when it pressed against your cervix every time mark canted his hips up into yours, stretching your pussy around him, churning up your insides so they could only think of him. “pretty, really pretty…” he babbles as he tries to keep his thrusts steady, “also p-pretty fucking mean, stupid…” he continues, trying to ignore the way a pleasured shock creeped up his spine and made his legs shake like yours had before.

you were going to cum again, you could feel it. familiar tingles and twinges picking at you before you felt it fully, the mind numbing sensation of an orgasm being fucked out of you again. mark isn’t any better, chasing his own pleasure with his head tilted back steady “hah, hah, hah”’s slipping out of his mouth. working for stuff really was fun sometimes, even if you had to wait a while to get it. you’re lost, back arching up off of the bed with your waist subtly moving in time with his, catching small hazy blinks of him before his face is closer to yours, not even waiting to kiss you. his tongue is bigger than yours, as with the rest of him, completely pushing your tongue away as he kisses into your mouth, muffling both of your sounds as his thrusts became more and more uneven. he’s cumming, hard and fast and with no consideration whether you were on birth control or not, painting your pink walls with his white cum and leaving his mark deep inside you, seeping into your womb with thick globs. you came as soon as he did, dry this time, arms flailing to grab onto his back to anchor yourself. your cunt squeezed around him, trying to milk all of his release into you. you weren’t on the pill but you didn’t care, you could always get that sorted later.

mark didn’t pull out, huffing slightly as he came back to, blinking at your shaking form below him. if it had been porn, he’d feel bad, close the tab and ignore his post nut clarity. this time, even with all of the thoughts in his head telling him that he’d just broken you down, used you like you were disposable, he couldn’t help but feel accomplished. you might’ve won by getting him to fuck you but he’s won the ice cold heart of the mean bitch that’s now laying in her own squirt on his bed, twitching every now and again to show how much you’d enjoyed it. he sighs, shaking his head and pulls out of you, watching for a second as his cum slowly starts to spill out of your aching pussy, ruining his bedsheets even further, “you still here..?” he asks, looking over at you before he’s headed back over to where he’d stripped off all of his clothes, quickly dressing himself back up as he puts his boxers back on, sliding his jeans back up his legs and looking over at your limp body on his bed. you don’t respond with words, only a faint nod, your body still swimming in the warmth that you’d been pushed into by mark. you could feel the way his cum dribbled out of you messily, leaking down your lower half and soaking up the sheets even further.

you’re pulled from your bliss with mark’s words, unexpected and apologetic, “want me to clean you up?” and you melt, nodded with a small ‘uh-huh’ as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him and knocking the sock off in the process. he’d return a moment later, towel in hand with one corner wet with warm water, patting you down gently, stark contrast to how he was just a minute ago. mark wasn’t mean but he’d tried to be nice and nice just wasn’t working for him - wasn’t working for you - so he had to show you how mean he could really be, had to counteract you somehow. you flinched when he started wiping your cunt, hissing when he bumped against your overly sensitive clit with the towel. he muttered a small sorry, drying you up and leaving once more, the sounds of the music from downstairs louder for a second before the door is closed, louder again and then muffled when he comes back with your shirt and bra, tossing it to your side. he avoided your gaze, absently fiddling around with something in the corner of his room, waiting for you to put your clothes back on. you get the memo, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching out for his jacket before you backed away from it, remembering that you’d come here to return the thing.

as you stood up to look around for your underwear and skirt, your thighs twitch as you feel his cum leaking between your legs, trickling down slowly. you could clean up properly later, sliding your panties and the skirt back to where they had left. “look,” he started, turning your attention towards him, “you can have it. just.. bring it back on saturday. there’s another party or something, ask william.” mark turns to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. you perk up as you clasp the strap to your heels back on, legs feeling like jelly as you moved to face him. you nod with a smile, eyes bright and sparkling like he’d just told you you’d won a billion dollars, “saturday, same time?” you ask, walking towards the door and resting your hand on the doorknob. mark hums at you, a silent yes. you take your leave, his broken jacket draped over your shoulders again as you make your way to the front door, ready to leave so you could go back to the dorm room you weren’t supposed to live in and sleep the next few days away. you couldn’t wait to party at house 242 again.

mark watched you walk away from the porch, your hands in his jacket’s pockets, the material swallowing you up to keep you warm. he shook his head, once again pinching the skin between his eyes, grabbing himself a clean towel so he could shower and fall asleep to the music that blared underneath him. mark thought he’d had enough of you.

now, he couldn’t get enough.

#dark blog #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #invincible x reader #invincible smut #fem reader #tw dubcon #sorry if this got slow and boring at the end i need to think of ways to finish my fics better 😭😭

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shokosmokes · 15 days

Text

﹒◌﹒hockey au﹒✧﹒

hi! so this is super self indulgent based on this post i made hehe n im super excited to write this, i hope u enjoy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

this is probably gonna be super lengthy so this is just part one lol

copy-pasted from my notes app so sorry if there’s any errors

masterlist

———————————————————————————————————

megumi x reader x yuji love triangle

tooth rotten fluff with a bit of angst

The music is loud—too loud for your taste—but you don’t really care. You’re not here for the party, not really. You’re here because you promised some new friends you’d show up. After all, that’s what people do when they want to feel like they belong, right? Pretend to be interested in house parties with thumping bass, cheap beer, and sweaty college students pressed together like sardines.

You tug at the sleeves of your sweater nervously, trying to blend into the wall, regretting not bringing a drink. At least it would’ve given your hands something to do. You scan the crowded living room, your eyes flicking over the mass of people, mind wandering until you spot a familiar face—or rather, two.

Yuji Itadori is hard to miss. His bright pink hair stands out against the dim lighting, and he’s laughing at something, his wide grin infectious even from across the room. Next to him, Megumi Fushiguro looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, his expression as unreadable as ever. The complete opposite of Yuji’s playful demeanor.

It’s funny how they balance each other out like that. Yuji, the bright, silly one who lights up every room he walks into, and Megumi, the quiet, brooding one, always watching from the sidelines. You haven’t known them long, but even you can tell they’re close in a way that most people would envy.

And yet, here you are, watching them, unsure of where you fit into the picture.

“Hey!” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts through the noise as he jogs over to you, his face lighting up when he sees you. “You came! I didn’t think you’d show up.��

You smile, feeling the warmth of his excitement wash over you. “I almost didn’t, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” His grin widens, and he turns, waving toward Megumi, who’s still standing by the drinks table, looking completely out of place. “Megumi, come over here! She’s finally here!”

Megumi’s eyes flick over to you, and for a moment, your gazes lock. His expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he gives a small nod and walks over, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low but steady.

“Hey,” you echo, feeling your pulse quicken for no good reason.

The three of you stand there for a moment, Yuji’s energy bouncing between you, while Megumi’s silence settles like a blanket over the noise of the party. You feel the tension immediately. Not in a bad way, just... tension. The kind that makes your heart race for reasons you can’t quite put your finger on.

“So,” Yuji begins, clearly trying to break the silence, “have you been to any of our hockey games yet? We’ve got a big one coming up next week.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden change in topic. Hockey? Right. They’re both on the team, something you keep forgetting since you’ve never actually seen them play. It’s not really your thing, but the thought of seeing them on the ice—sweaty and focused—sends a strange shiver down your spine.

“No, I haven’t been to any yet,” you admit. “But maybe I’ll come to the next one.”

Yuji’s eyes light up like you’ve just made his day. “You should! It’s gonna be great. Megumi’s an amazing defender. You’ll love it.”

You glance at Megumi, who shifts uncomfortably under Yuji’s praise. “I’m not that great,” he mutters.

“You’re amazing, dude,” Yuji counters, playfully nudging his friend. “Don’t be so modest.”

You find yourself smiling at their dynamic. It’s hard not to get swept up in Yuji’s enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. I’ll come,” you say, laughing a little at how easily you’ve been convinced.

“Awesome!” Yuji’s grin is infectious. “I’ll make sure you get a good seat.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you, something quiet and unreadable flickering in them. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it makes your heart race in a way that you’re not sure you’re ready to acknowledge.

You’re not here for hockey. You’re not here for parties. But somehow, being here with them feels like it’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

---

Later that week, you find yourself sitting in the cold, buzzing arena, clutching a cup of hot chocolate as you watch the players take to the ice. You have to admit, there’s something captivating about watching them skate, the fluid motion of their bodies gliding across the rink. Your eyes keep wandering back to two figures—Yuji and Megumi.

Yuji is in his element, grinning even through his helmet, waving to the crowd every chance he gets. His energy is infectious, even from the stands. Megumi, on the other hand, is focused, eyes narrowed in concentration as he defends the goal like his life depends on it. The contrast between them is striking.

Your stomach twists when Yuji skates by, throwing you a playful wink. He’s just so... Yuji. Bright, carefree, and completely unaware of the effect he has on people. On you.

And Megumi... God, Megumi.

Every time you see him on the ice, you feel that strange pull in your chest again. There’s something about him—something quiet and intense—that makes your heart race in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t as obvious as Yuji, but there’s a warmth to him, hidden beneath that cool, stone-faced exterior.

---

After the game, you’re surprised when both of them ask you to hang out—separately, of course.

Yuji wants to go to the arcade. Megumi invites you to a quiet coffee shop he likes, one tucked away from the busy part of campus.

You don’t know how to say no to either of them.

---

Megumi’s fingers brush yours as he hands you a book he thinks you’ll like, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he pulls back. “This one’s good,” he says softly, almost shyly. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you take the book from him, your hands barely touching. “Thanks,” you whisper, feeling the weight of his attention settle over you.

Megumi is so... subtle. His affection, if it’s even that, comes in quiet gestures. A brush of fingers here, a soft look there. It makes your heart race in a way that feels... different. Dangerous, almost.

But then, there’s Yuji.

---

“Gotcha!” Yuji laughs as he beats you—again—at one of the games at the arcade, his playful grin lighting up his whole face.

You can’t help but laugh with him, your heart soaring at the pure joy in his eyes. Being with Yuji feels easy, like the sun has come out and everything is just... fun.

But it isn’t just fun. Not for you.

You’re torn. Between the boy who makes you feel safe, like a warm hug on a cold day, and the boy who sets your heart on fire, unpredictable and thrilling.

You don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you don’t feel anything for either of them.

———————————————————————

end of pt. 1 /).(\ pt. 2 coming very soon

#jjk #megumi #jjk x reader #megumi x you #jjk imagines #jjk x you #megumi x reader fluff #yuji x y/n #itadori yuji #yuji x reader #jjk yuji #yuji fluff #hockey au #jjk sports au #fushiguro megumi #megumi imagine

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cloudninetonine · 1 year

Note

Cloud! Cloud I have this terrible idea! (Mildly Inspired by your Tethered AU but a little more different) A WARNING FOR ANGST! It does involve all three Chains with the Dadons included!

So what if by some chance all three groups have one piece of the triforce they happened to find during their journeys and of course don’t know that the other groups have one as well; Like one Triforce for the OG, the Villains (either the Villans have it or the Dadons do), and the Yanderes.

Cut to the battle! Everyone is fighting and all the Links that were holding onto the Triforce piece for safekeeping dropped them, and the one to gather them is Conquest. And as everyone comes to a standstill everyone starts to scrabble after him as he makes his wish, the wish he makes?

“I wish for [Name] to replace my HYLIA!”

Thus the wish forcefully makes Player the Villain Chains' new God/Goddess, erasing the existence of their Hylia.

IMAGINE THE DEVISATION!!! Imma give you a quick One-Shot I gotta write this to you!!!

_____

As everyone looked upon Conquest with varying looks of disbelief and dawning realization, the villain counterpart’s stare hardened as he raised the now united triforce, he heard the booming voice of the goddess he felt nothing but years of disdain for somewhere in the distance. She was rushing towards him, for once those once blank eyes seemed to tremor with dread, and somewhere deep within him Conquest felt a deep gratification of seeing the once tyrannical goddess screech in terror. He did not care for the rest of what his fellow villains thought, no, not when he saw you on the ground staring up at him with wide eyes, confusion swarming them, and for a moment his gaze softened at the sight of you before he steeled himself and rose the triforce higher.

“I wish…!”, he began, and swiftly everyone began to run toward him, his own ‘brothers’ alongside their heroic rivals, the rotten love-obsessed fools, and the heroes (the supposed ‘originals’). With a growing crooked smile, one oddly heartbreaking for you to see, continued his wish, “...for [Name] to replace the goddess Hylia! For them to take the place of the wicked goddess, and replace her for all eternity to come!”.

Everyone covered their eyes as a great white light flooded the area, blinding them as you listened to the faint screaming of the goddess Hylia, Martinet in this case. It was all deafening and blinding as the ground shook, forcing everyone on their knees as they did their best to stay huddled for a form of stability and to not lose one another. And then it all settled, and slowly everyone looked up warily, cautious and hesitant to see the aftermath of the spoken desire.

You were still standing surprisingly enough, though you were dressed in robes of grays with silver embroidery even your markings shifted into a pulsing white, and you were starting to breathe heavily.

“Conquest…”, your voice cracked as you called out to the villain, who only stared at you with eyes so soft and tender you would’ve almost thought you were looking at Hyrule, your Hyrule, “...what did you do? What- whAT Did YOU DO!!!”, you wailed.

He didn’t say anything, no one did, and even his fellow villains could only stare at the scene with empty gazes (Abyss, Prime, and Conflict looked to be almost pitying you for once) as you fell to your knees and wept. Your gutwrenching sobs filled the entire area even as their original counterparts and rivals came running to you while you covered your face and sobbed.

Listening to your cries did hurt him to some capacity, but as he looked up at the sky where the Triforce once was, he couldn’t help but feel relieved as his shoulders slumped.

[Insperation struck when I was listening to “Running up that Hill” by Kate Bush while re-reading your Tethered and a set of Lyrics caught my eye, idk what to call this tho and I couldn’t sleep so I’m sending this over, hehe, I’ll go cry now I just hurt my own feelings]

-🍪 Anon

THIS IS FUCKING EVIL AND VILE AND CRUEL I FUCKING LOVE IT!

#cloud answers #Anon asks

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callico-awts · 1 year

Text

Me want to share lil TanZen au idea of mine(yes my brain kept cooking shet ideas) hehehe

Yes it's angsty asf also sorry in advance for lots of words and grammar incorrections hshshshs

Enjoy ig ^ ^

it takes place ofc from the og (Taisho era ) zen has a incurable disease (a terminal disease hshshsgdgs) and he kept it a secret from everyone includes tanjiro too except for shinobu (she knows and maybe other ppl do ig), yes he has feelings for tanji but also kept it a secret but some ppl know about his feelings for him hehe. and zen assumes that tanji will never reciprocate his feelings and he loves kanao(but tanji only see her as a friend shshhs). Tanjiro sense that there's something wrong with him and he's like "are you alright, zenitsu?" and zen be like "it's nothing, I'm just tired.." On their next mission zens health worsens and he killed the demon or maybe the fight against muzan where tanji became a demon, zen tried his best to help, so kanao would inject the antidote on him then when they turn back tanji to human, that's where zen died and well for him it's a nice death knowing, there will be no more demons and finally everyones at peace and he saved tanjiro and the only thing he regrets is not confessing Kamado tanjirou but atleast he will see his gramps again and maybe kaigaku(??)..

Now, for tanjis pov. he's so worried about his friend and as day goes by, zenitsu doesn't seem to be getting any better. he also noted that his skin that was once like the color of fresh peaches now turned into lifelessly pale white and his sweet scent replaced with rottening and metal(blood??) . He doesn't know why he felt deep worry and concern for zen but he just brushed it off as "well, he's my friend that's why I'm worried". Even tho zen said that "it's just a silly fever and nothing serious.." but through his scent.. what he says we're lies.. It's not just a fever, it's not because he's exhausted from their missions... If it's just exhaustion why does his scent smell so rottening and there's subtle smell of metal to the mix. the scent of peaches he loves so much are there but the rottening scent are overpowering.. he realizes how zenitsu mean so much to him and these feelings are new to tanjiro. Different to what you feel for a family, friend.. tanjiro promised to himself that after he turned back nezuko to human and defeat muzan.. he will confess zenitsu his feelings for him...

But he's too late now.. isn't he??

Sorry that this is long for a idea au huhu and cringy ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Idk this kind of au has been in my mind for a lot and I need more TanZen angst with zen being ded cuz most of the fics i read it's mostly tanjiro who's dying.. and yes I gave it a name already for the au and maybe i'll make art or write(?) even tho I suck at it...

Hope you've been fed and enjoy thy random post, tnx for listening to my tedtalkwjshdh

Adios-

#kny fic #not an existing one ofc #i made it up #fic ideas #kny tanjirou #kny zenitsu #demon slayer #demon slayer anime #a bit of manga spoilers #tanzen #tanzen angst #tanjiro x zenitsu #kny au #kimetsu no yaiba #炭善 #tanjiro kamado #zenitsu agatsuma

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jinnxd · 8 months

Note

Not only was I just thinking about you and your fic just as you updated it, you also wrote Mizuki in a way that absolutely made me disgusted, it was too perfect. Like spot on with some of the guys that have hit on me and one I ended up dating. Absolutely gross, I loved it! Even though it made my skin crawl. Like fuck Mizuki, Orochimaru can have his body if you ask me. And I can't wait to absolutely melt when you get to the point of actually making Kiya and Kakashi date. Is fanfiction off of fanfiction a thing? Because I can imagine it now: they get together and everything around the same time as team 7 is formed, and then Naruto and Sasuke get assigned to team 7, and they gotta warm up to Kakashi one way or another, and he to them, and it all ends up in the most adorable family picnic. Or family vacation. Where Kakashi and Kiya are trying to have a romantic moment or two that the kids keep ruining because they're trying to have a dumb contest, the kind Kakashi and Guy regularly have. Meanwhile Kiya and Kakashi are working on a way to take down Danzo. And both of the boys end up overhearing that goal but never know the reason why they wanna do that. And also I headcanon sasunaru so Sasuke leaves after the exams anyway, and along the way realizes his feelings for Naruto run deeper and so he returns to his family. And Naruto realizes his feelings after training with Jiraya. Kakashi and Kiya are kinda weirded out but they've seen weirder things so it's fine. And as a family, they take down Danzo. But during the fight Danzo reveals what he wanted to do with Kiya which makes both kids rage so hard they don't even leave a single atom of him remain once he's dead. Is there a plot to this? Absolutely, it's called revenge and happiness because fuck Danzo and I want everyone else to be happy. Anyway sorry for rambling, THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE, and I love you baiii <3

omg… you were thinking about me?! hehe I’m blushingggg (*´ ˘ `*).｡oO ( ♡ )

I felt horrible writing Mizuki and Kiya’s interactions, but they’re really just all based on past experiences of mine :3 that and I just took every single revolting aspect I could think of and threw them all at him hehehe—self-proclaimed “alpha male”? Check. Constantly interrupts Kiya and refuses to take no for an answer? Check! Negs her at every possible turn? Check, check, check!!!

(AU headcanon: Mizuki is a die-hard Andrew Tate fan)

I feel like we’ve all had shitty experiences with shitty men before (like wtf why are they EVERYWHERE) so this chapter/Mizuki’s WHOLE character is a tribute to all the victims of shitty men (≧o��) I sincerely hope that the guy you ended up dating did not last long at all, and I hope he got what was coming to him! No one deserves to be treated that way >:(

(but I admit I’m having fun with this—it’s like Mizuki is being put in a public stockade and we all get to throw rotten tomatoes at him :) in a way, it’s nice to see that he’s so widely hated, because WE ALL DESERVE BETTER!!!)

I can’t wait for Kakashi and Kiya to get together, either🤭 there’s been a tiny hint of progress, but there’s still a long way to go until they both stop being idiots and just KISS already 👺

The fanfic of a fanfic is ADORABLE, I love that so much :’) I just want them all to be happy, they deserve so much love <3

And as for the Danzo takedown, there are a million different ideas in my head that are floating around!!! It sort of drives me crazy because everything else has an outline, but Danzo’s demise is just one big question mark🙈 the goal is to have it be a team effort, give everyone a chance to get their revenge, y’know? But then in the meantime Danzo just gets to LIVE until Sasuke’s old enough to beat him up… AHHHH idk idk idk all I know is I want everyone to jump his old mummy-looking ass 😌

RAMBLING IS MY FAV, I LOVE RAMBLING!!! (as we can all tell, I physically cannot shut up… we’re barely halfway through the story and at almost 300k words… oopsie) DONT APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING!!!!! Thank *you* for this lovely lovely comment, it was a pleasure to read 🫶🫶🫶

SENDING YOU SO MUCH LOVE!!!! ( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡

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50cal-fullauto-astarion · 1 year

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For the OC ask game 💖

10, 14 and 17 with Rivka

2, 9 and 25 with Stallard

KEZ MY BELOVED THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME 🥰🥰💖💖

Rivka:

10. What’s an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

FALLOUT AU. FALLOUT AU. FALLOUT AU. Oh good lord, any of them, really. Fallout 3? Sour unpleasant child raised in a vault with no memory of her parents, her grandmother is the vault’s Overseer, and she busts out of her own accord after she’s assigned to be the admin path to become the next Overseer. Selfishly wreaks havoc across the Capital Wasteland, picks up a dogmatically loyal Ghoul bodyguard (König, ofc), falls instantly in love with one another, and decide to fuck over the BoS who took over her parents’ work on the water purifier for their own gain.

Writing this I’m realizing I could have this au carry her through all three games hehe. New Vegas: made it across the country with their ill gotten gains, picks up courier work, ends up shot, buried, and separated from König, and the game is them both brutally tearing apart the Wasteland to get back to one another. When they reunite, it’s a whole thing. Riv has gone more than half ghoul-y bc of all the unchecked radiation in the area, and just when she thinks König will see what’s become of her and decide no, he surprises her. He’s elated—they can be together forever now. And they bring the libertarian Wunderkind Robert House back to power, with the sole intention of returning someday and violently overthrowing him to rule Vegas themselves. The only reason they don’t do that immediately is bc—

Fallout 4: the Brotherhood of Steel is back in business in Boston, Massachusetts, and there is something rotten in the state of Denmark when it comes to Synths. There’s some dickhead Sole Survivor running amok with the do-gooder Minutemen faction, Stallard something, running around with her own rotten asshole that goes by the name of Ghost, so spooky. But they aren’t doing shit-all about the Brotherhood, so Riv oh so kindly inserts herself in the situation and makes sure it goes the fuck down in flames—literally.

Then, upon returning to New Vegas, she takes her place as the leader of the independent city, improving where others had failed miserably, and protecting her claim like the cold blooded warlord she is, providing König an ultimate life of luxury. 🥰

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Ohhh this is an interesting question, because Riv doesn’t really take the perception of other people into account. She has solely lived in her own world since her parents were killed, and the only person who has ever gotten close enough to be welcomed in is König. He’s the only one that matters. For him, she wants to be a safe haven, and a soft place to crash. She wants him to look at her and know that as long as she’s alive, he’s got a home, and that he’s protected.

The world at large? Again, she doesn’t pay it any mind, but if pressed, she needs people to understand that she is capable and she is not fucking around. She is not casual, she will commit to the bit and return Someone being funny with her being hilarious.

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

DFHHDG I’m a very mean creator and it’s still her parents being killed. She came home from Hebrew School to an open door and a house that reeked of blood, listening to two thugs comfort one another over their brutality, and seeing her father’s severed feet—still in black alligator skin Chelsea boots—sitting six feet away from his legs poking out around the side of the stairs. She was struck in the back of the head by one of the thugs, who further freaked out, and was beckoned by her mother to come over where she lay dying in the sitting room.

Teàrlag Zabludowicz had gotten her face bashed in by the same weapon that caved in the back of Rivka’s skull, and with her last breaths she pulled her daughter’s body under her own to hide her. Her jaw was so destroyed that her tongue lapped at Rivka’s cheek when she tried to speak comfort, and she bled into Rivka’s mouth and eyes. Rivka can still feel her mother’s tongue against her skin when she’s stressed.

Stallard:

2. What’s something about your OC that people wouldn’t expect just from looking at them?

Her favorite author is Jeanette Winterson, and she’s read Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit and Lighthousekeeping to Simon and for herself more times than she can count. She loves to sing, even if her voice is shit, and she misses her mother, even though she’s still alive. She misses her twins more than she’s ever loved her little half-sisters, but obligation would’ve had her kill herself before admitting that for decades on end. She still feels like a little girl and wishes she didn’t feel as constantly, back-breakingly lost as she always has. She’s a little old fashioned and would like to be treated like a lady more than she is. She’s dreamt of Simon so many times that she swears he’s visiting her in her sleep. At one point in her life, her greatest wish was only to marry him.

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

OH BOY DO I.

The entirety of Gold Dust Woman by Fleetwood Mac is a song for Stallard, and here’s a pull from the lyrics!

As well as Marie Douceur, Marie Colère - specifically the cover by Manon Hollander. Verses in English:

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

Ohhh ;;;;++++++;;;; VERY good question. I love a lot of things about Stallard—how she endures, how she holds her soft vulnerabilities to her chest. But I think my favorite thing about her is that despite the fact that her rage has burned down to dead cinders over the years, after what feels like lifetimes of abuse, after the fatigue has settled in so heavily that it could kill her, she nurses a bead of compassion and kindness and patience that she could very easily let drop and die to give way completely to apathy and misanthropy.

But that’s anathema to her nature, it’s unthinkable to her to the point it literally never crosses her mind as an option. She’s got a motherly streak at her core in a most basic sense, and she cares deeply about people that fall under her purview as if they were her own, despite the fact she’ll never have children of her own, nor does she want any. But she wouldn’t be herself without it.

#holler holler get $#THANK YOU KEZ FOR PUTTING ME IN MY FEELS ABOUT MY CHILDREN 😭😭

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secretsolarsystem · 2 years

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When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers, if you can. Let’s spread the self-love. ♥️

thank you so much friend!!! <3 I'm gonna go chronologically with this, so...

pride & preparation • it was one of my first fics written purely for smut and it was pretty daunting but writing a silly goofy sweet first time fic was sooo fun and I think the humor in it works well for what I was going for :P

too hot • I had read a fic from a fandom/ship I used to be into a loooong time ago and then I was like wait holy shit. obikin has to play. and so I made them play and also 69 and I blushed the whole time but it was worth it bc I think it's a good balance of spicy and sweet hehe <3

rotten work • I wrote this during finals in my last semester of college when I was mentally and physically deteriorating so I was like 'what if I just made myself anakin and then made obi-wan take care of him so it's like obi-wan taking care of me' and to this day I will read it when I need comfort LOL

true facts of truth • was I supposed to watch ewan mcgregor doing true facts of truth and not write him babbling those things, drunk, to his adoring husband??? bc if so I did not understand the assignment <3

incorruptible, everlasting • so much work and love went into writing this fic fr...I have never worked so hard on world-building for an au and developing a plot that I found interesting and feasible while putting characters into roles that fit them and kept them in their own character as I saw them both in canon and the au...and I think it was worth it bc I got to bring two pieces of media that I love together and (the best part) I got to interact with so many people as each chapter was posted and they offered so many kind words and so much encouragement..fr the readers and their comments are probably the only reason the fic was completed <3

#thank you for asking me to hype myself up !!!#imposter syndrome is Real so it's really nice to look back on my work with kind eyes <3 #obikin #my writing #ask

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pompompurin1028 · 2 years

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Hi! Can I ask for 23 and 50 from the ask game? Only if you're okay with it ofc hehe thank you!

Thank you for the ask Hana!! <3 And of course I don't mind!!

Ask Game: Questions for Fic Writers

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

I'd love to write a Howl's Moving Castle (movie) AU with Dazai, I think it would be really interesting! In a way Dazai sort of fits with the sort of basics of Howl's character, dramatic at times lol, the idea of 'a heart is a heavy burden' and Howl's turning into an animal thing can also give opportunities to comment in the concept of 'humanity', and in a sense the latter two are aspects that are quite central to Dazai's character. It could be a fascinating exploration of Dazai's aversion to pain in relation to his humanity, and exploring ideas of the self ad well. But to write this world building and re-plotting the story will have to commence if I were to write it because I will have to also change the canon movie backgrounds to fit with actions that would fit Dazai better orz, and I feel like in order to explore those themes which I want, I have to figure out what Dazai's character would be like in this AU when his background had changed, and it'll probably be a long fic, also there's the logistics of executing it. So, for now, this is just an idea haha🥲.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

I choose number 24, because I can't really think of something to talk about at the moment🥲 (24. Are there any easter eggs in [Leaves], and if so, what are they?). The whole concept of the fic Leaves is inspired by one of Dazai-sensei’s works Leaves, which is actually a really interesting! I went into it expecting a sort of short story, but no... It is more so fragments of thoughts, almost like just random thoughts that Dazai-sensei has in mind and just dropped them down. There isn't really a cohesive element to the things written down, it's almost like reflections and small ideas. It was actually really interesting reading through them, it almost reminds me of the Chinese genre 散文 or隨筆, which in English is sort of an informal essay of sorts, but not really, since this genre of text tends to convey certain feelings of the author and their thoughts, but they are usually cohesive which a certain topic in mind.

So my fic Leaves directly quotes one of these fragments which really stood out to me in Dazai-sensei's Leaves:

“But my love,” the whirlwind within my being spilling almost instantly at your gentle words as I finally found it in myself to speak. Perhaps this time, the winds have finally gotten ahold of me before my mind could put a stop to it. Or perhaps it was simply your doing, and the feelings of warmth your presence brings me is getting to my head. “What of such a tree? Whose leaves are green until they fall. As their undersides slowly wither away and are eaten by insects, but shyly hides this with their green coat they wear in front until they fall… Do you think they deserve to wear the smile of which you described?” After fooling the world with a false mask, hiding their true rotten nature beneath, do such horrid beings, horrid beings such as myself deserve your so-called happiness? And with that, I could physically feel the genuine smile that I had worn upon my face sour as I found myself once again sinking into my thoughts.

From Dazai-sensei's Leaves (accessed from @/bsd-bibliophile)

This is basically all there is to this section, so I was wondering what it meant and my fic Leaves sort of gives me own interpretation or thought of what this part might have entailed.

#asks💌#Hana📔

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boyfhee · 3 months

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hmm, jay fic?? write it and you shall submit. i will be waiting for it, hehe. even i want to start a writing account for enha but i dont know what to post first T_T i have a text au and a headcanon, tell me which one should i post first :0

hope your bro does well in his 10th ✌🏼 tell him to not waste these next months, but hasnt the difficulty level for 10th graders decreased too?? i hate this education system. for us, 70% of syllabus was removed and people say you guys didn't write the exams 😭

hanuman chalisa haha, even if i have god by my side. i would be scared too. lmao how can a jaw chase her... noo that is so funny 😂 i mean i cant handle the smell of rotten food and what would i or you do with cadaver 🥲 i dont know. i regret everyday that why i havent chosen bipc 😔

i know apathorax from arjun reddy movie 😶 is it what it is?? help i dont even remember. isnt it beside the chest of a human?? the flesh part?? tell me tell me. well i havent been interested into coding but i need to start to learn how to code.

since you said you have coded, tell me the basic coding languages i need to know + how your teachers taught you caelin! i badly want tips to learn. like i have so many reels saved on my ig about coding + tips

same pinch, but i have been stanning them since on era and i think i was a hardcore fan until they dropped butter. i lost interest because same, their music started to change and started concentrating on the west. soo, i used to love the old bts caelin :(

hell no!!! when i used to watch yuzuru hanyu skating videos, i got into figure skating and then random videos used to pop up, even i used to know sunghoon before he debuted 🥲 i didnt watch like all of his performances but watched the best ones in his career ^^ he grew up so well.

yup!!! when fever was dropped, engenes knew it was a banger. damn it everyone on twitter asked whose song was this and engenes were like, huhu its enhypen \(^_^)/ hooray hahga. even i agree with you fever was and is the best bside i have ever heard from them.

this already long so i will continue in the next ask :3

— lover club anon <33

jay fic was posted, i hope it reached you well ^^ also, good luck with starting a writing account omg .. you can start with texts since they are a quick read and attract more audience !!! however, headcanons aren't bad either ... it really is your choice :O

i will tell him to do well in 10th, although he wastes all his time playing valo / forza horizon TT i don't know how easy or difficult the school exams have gotten, i've been so out of the loop ever since i graduated >< hope your sister does well too in boards ^_^

and omg bipc is fun but i'm sure pcm is just as interesting :O you have a fear of blood and needles so maybe you weren't meant for the OT but rather for doing other big things in like ... let's be positive !!! also, i think you mean apothorax ?? it's part of thorax containing heart and lungs ^^ i was studying about mediastinum today .. it's too much to take in. there's so much information and so little space in my brain .. sometimes i wonder if i will be able to remember all the things _ _;

also, i studied coding in highschool so i don't know how helpful my tips will be for college since you're definitely going to learn much much more there :O i think html css is basic and important ( for example, tumblr's who website theme and post format is based on html css ) javascript, python are important too since they're in demand. i'm afraid we didn't learn a lot in school except what was in theory .. didn't have many lab sessions and the most we did was python and html css since that was the main focus ( i hate python like whatever the hell that is ... )

i also started with hanyu !!! and then came across cha junhwan, yuna kim, ilia malinin and all though the international tournaments and all. i remember being so interested in fs, i watched the 4cc tournaments during classes TT i actually came across sunghoon through junhwan, watched his videos and then moved on like .. i didn't see him at the competitions so i thought he quit :O never looked him up for me to know he was a trainee / idol

AND YEAH fever is truly the queen, i can never get tired of it. border : carnival in itself is an amazing album. what's your fav album of them so far? fav b-side and title tracks? i need to know ><

#⠀ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ㅤㅤㅤsecrets & 𝒽er ฅ ฅ : lover club anon

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onwriting-hrarby · 1 year

Note

Hey miss hera. I want to ask number 7, number 18, and number 47. Thank you.

Hello anon! Thank you so much for playing, hehe. Here they go!

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

Oh my! I think... Maybe "Rotten Judgement"? In the way I deal with politics and the intra-Paradisian stuff. Although I also liked the way I dealt with international relationships in "Instead they said", where Marley and Paradis were involved in a war, but truly, I think ITS was just an essay of what "Rotten Judgement" would be. I am also quite proud about my actor AU, "A dreadful night" because I think I was able to convey the canon personalities in an alternative universe very well while maintaining the whole "actor scene" charade!

18. If you wrote a sequel to Rotten Judgement / Instead they said / A dreadful night / Only a lifetime, what would it involve?

I am leaving "I did not live until today" aside because I did write an epilogue on that, but truly, it would involve the same in all of them: motherhood (mostly) while being a couple, and a romantic/married relationship. But I think this is because I'm in that point of life, you know? It's very close to what I'm experiencing and what I want to do soon, so I think I like essaying different representations of it. By no means that should be the "ending" we all strive for—I'm just in the mood for something very romantically conventional. In the political sphere, though: Rotten Judgement would follow with injuries of friends, and a civil dictatorship approaching; Instead they said would follow with a war between Marley and Paradis (modern age); A dreadful night with the aftermath of Eren's slip at the convention, and Only a lifetime with Jean and Mikasa trying to have a relationship despite grieving Eren.

47. If your fics were a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

I did not live until today - Ballet shoes / Dancing shoes (for obvious reasons)

Instead, they said - Water boots! Long but wearable.

Only a lifetime - Shoeless: it hurts to the bone.

A dreadful night - Interesting. I feel like... heels? Because it's uncomfortable but they dress well.

Rotten Judgement - Dr Martens. Very fashionable but are a pain to wear.

#hrarby writes #hrarby musings

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lucientelrunya · 3 years

Text

Like a loney house pt 10

This took forever, because my brain was too busy either throwing scenes at me that take place way later or throwing smut at me that's absolutely not for this story... >.< Or AU-ideas that I'm never going to write... *sigh* I'm sure you know the struggle.

@thesporkidentity: Thank you :D (and this thing is already up to over 60k in my google doc, I have no idea how long it's going to get ^^°°°) @xcziel: I always get so happy when someone says they like how I write a certain character :D And yes, nothing is running smooth here at all. @kholran: Harem? O.O Oh, please don't feed the plotbunnies, I don't need more... @nope4ever: Of course he did. Apparently all of them are soft at heart (at least when I write them). @gaiahenshin: Yes he is, he absolutely is. hehe.

The details that match are too peculiar to be a coincidence. Wu Xie hasn’t said anything about that, does he know or didn’t he have a proper look himself when he sent the comics over? Zhang Rishan sends him a text about the clothes, also asking how exactly he found the comic. He sends another to Huo Daofu about the golden coffin water.

The little comic doesn’t have a single written word in it that could indicate where or when it was made, there isn’t even a signature or a title page. The website Wu Xie found it on is just a site that seems to collect cute short comics, because nothing else on it has anything to do with their comic storywise. Unhelpfully it puts the comic as ‘title unknown’ by ‘unknown artist’. So mailing the website owner and asking them about the comic seems like a waste of time. He does it anyway, because the comic must have come from somewhere and maybe the owner can point him in a new direction.

How does one go about finding the unknown creator of a comic with no title? With the way the characters are drawn it’s impossible to tell what ethnicity they are meant to represent. There are no distinctive features, just the clothes. They could be from a western country just as well as from some minority that has long since vanished from that place or overall. He knows next to nothing about western history.

And he is not that great with computers. He knows the simple things and never cared enough to learn any more. While he may have all the time in the world to learn new things there are enough things that just don’t pique his interest. But right now he regrets that he never cared to learn more, because he has no idea how to go about this.

The buzzing of his phone jolts him out of his thoughts. It’s Huo Daofu. “So, since you asked about the golden coffin water - What exactly did Wu Xie tell you about it?” He gets right to the important things without so much as a greeting. “Only that he took a bath in it and afterwards he was healed. He said there might be some parallels to the strange liquid in the cave and that you were trying to analyze the golden coffin water and might have some ideas.” He can hear Huo Daofu take a drink from some bottle, probably beer, it’s their vacation after all.

“Well, yes. ‘Trying’ is absolutely accurate. I only managed to get a very small sample and thunder city was blown up, so chances are slim that I’ll ever get more. Which means I have to carefully decide what tests to do, because there is so little of it left. And that’s incredibly frustrating,” he takes another mouthful of his drink. At least he has a small bottle to run tests on and not an empty bag of nothing. But Zhang Rishan doesn’t say anything, just keeps listening.

“Every test that I have run so far tells me: It’s basically just water with some minerals and other insignificant stuff. Nothing that would explain why it’s so special. But there has to be something, I have seen it! Maybe there is something in it we just cannot grasp, but there has to be something special about it! It healed Wu Xie’s lungs and he was on death’s doorstep. And look at him now. You wouldn’t think his lungs were completely rotten just a few months ago.” Zhang Rishan makes a contemplative sound. “Special like magic?” he asks and Huo Daofu grunts disgruntledly.

“I do not like that word. But I guess we like to call things we cannot comprehend ‘magic’. So, in a way, yes. Maybe the golden coffin water only works in that special place and in the coffin. Maybe it needed the resonnation of thunder to be activated. I have no way to test it on somebody. Well, at least it has not evaporated yet. I would assume if any of that pool-liquid was left you’d get the same result, that you cannot isolate whatever makes it so special. Oh, but you are aware that it did something to you, too? When we got you out of the pool you were barely bleeding, like that liquid somehow staunched the blood flow.”

No, he had not been aware of that, he had only wondered if the liquid had absorbed his blood as part of the ritual. But if it truly absorbed blood he would have been in a far worse condition, because it must have gotten into the wounds when he was fully submerged in the liquid. Or maybe it did and he was closer to death than he had thought and it was only the god that saved him? There is no way to know if the liquid did something to stop the bleeding or if the god wanted to make sure that he would still be alive to enjoy his ‘present’.

“What if it’s not about the liquids, but about what else was in there? Maybe it was the god?” he says and Huo Daofu hums in annoyed agreement. “That thought occured to me, too, but that would make the golden water just that - water. And I cannot accept that yet. So please do tell me if your blood results reveal anything.”

Zhang Rishan promises to tell Huo Daofu if he gets any interesting news about his pool-liquid-research and leaves him to his sulking (and his vacation). Then he sends the comic to the same contacts he has already sent the photos of the murals. Maybe he doesn’t know how to research something like that online, but he knows who does. And that’s really the good part about his position, he doesn’t have to do everything himself. He can delegate. Even if he doesn’t like to do that with things that are this important to him.

Having another close look at the comic he spots some other small things that are disturbingly similar to the murals, but he hasn’t needed any more things to convince himself that this is a bigger lead than they initially thought. Whoever made this, they either knew about the murals or had a source that knew about the murals. This can’t be a coincidence.

Ba Ye finds him writing down all the details that match. He silently comes around the desk, to look over his shoulder and have a look at the comic himself. “You’re right, it’s very peculiar. But this is good, right?” Ba Ye nods at the comic and then half sits on the edge of the desk, placing the little mirror beside him. “Yes, this is good, we need to find the author, they might be able to help us,” Zhang Rishan agrees. “And you found your mirror. I hope you didn’t have to look through everything to find it?” Ba Ye smiles at him and shakes his head. “No, but I looked through a lot of his things anyway. And I found these.” Whatever it is, it’s small enough that it fits in the palm of his hand. Maybe Zhang Rishan should have already guessed it, but he is wholly unprepared that “these” turn out to be Fo Ye’s rings.

Oh. His heart makes a very painful leap at the sight, his mind unhelpfully trying to conjure up the memory of when he saw those the last time. But he doesn’t let it, pushing the memory away with vigor and instead looks up at Ba Ye. “Do you want to keep them?” he asks and his voice sounds almost normal. Ba Ye tilts his head slightly, just the tiniest crease appearing between his brows. “Yes, I would like to. If you don’t mind.”

It’s a lie when he shakes his head, but he has Fo Ye’s bracelet and Ba Ye has every right to have a keepsake, too. It’s the least he can give him. Fo Ye was his closest friend after all. It’s not at all about Ba Ye having them, it’s that he doesn’t want to look at them. He hopes Ba Ye won’t start wearing them, so he doesn’t have to see them constantly. Or maybe he should and finally get a grip on himself.

The little crease deepens and the rings vanish into Ba Ye’s pocket. “Are you sure?” he asks and Zhang Rishan nods. “Yes, keep them. I have the bracelet, it’s only fair that you can have a keepsake of your choosing.” Ba Ye nods thoughtfully, but thankfully he doesn’t ask any more questions. Or rather, his questions are no longer of the likes Zhang Rishan doesn’t want to answer or even think about.

“I’m hungry, it’s almost time for dinner, isn’t it? Where are we gonna eat?” Xinyue is mostly a restaurant now, only special guests get to stay at a room here, so it's his first suggestion. "But you can pick anywhere you like. I thought Pangzi gave you a list of recommendations, he lived in Beijing for quite a while after all?" Pangzi did, but Ba Ye seems to have a limit for how many new things he wants to encounter in one day and for today he has obviously reached that limit.

So they do eat at Xinyue and Ba Ye drops the menu when he sees the prices. But he picks his favorites anyway. They talk about the plans for the next days because Zhang Rishan has some work to do for the Jiumen Association and Xinyue, so he won't be able to drive Ba Ye around whenever he wants. As long as Luo Que is on his vacation they will have to make do. Ba Ye can always call a private driver or take a taxi, he can even use the subway if he wants to explore Beijing a little. But he seems to be content to spend at least the next day at home, doing his predictions and calculations while Zhang Rishan attends his meeting with Huo Xiuxiu and the Chens.

It’s not really a surprise what they want. Ever since most of the Li and Qi people died in Guton Jing they have tried to gain power over what’s left of their assets, claiming that the Huos had no right to get everything and they took in what was left of the people so they should get everything else. Huo Xiuxiu looks as quietly bored as he feels. Maybe he should have agreed to her joke of betting on the next reason the Chens come up with why they would be entitled to have anything. At least they are creative. Zhang Rishan wonders quietly how they come up with all these ideas.

In the end it’s like all the times before, they get told “No,” and try to hide their anger, lamenting they are being mistreated because Zhang Rishan clearly favors the Huos. And he surely does, because Huo Xiuxiu is capable, smart and reminds him of times long gone while the Chens as they are now are an insult as descendents, even for someone like Chen Pi. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

The current Boss Chen leaves with his two henchmen and as soon as the door is shut behind them Huo Xiuxiu tilts her head and looks over at Zhang Rishan. “48 days,” she says gravely, which makes him sigh. “Really? Felt like less.” She only nods, humming quietly. “Are you still sure you don’t want to make a bet about the next time?” Now she is grinning slightly. “I just hope there is no next time. Is there even an angle they haven’t tried yet?” She thinks about that for a moment and then shrugs. “They are nothing but creative, I guess they can come up with at least five more versions.”

Zhang Rishan stifles a groan at those words and only hopes that it will take them at least another 48 days to come up with something else. Maybe he should come up with creative ways to say ‘no’. “Anyway. I hear Wu Xie is planning some big party?” She changes the topic abruptly, but he doesn’t mind at all. It had just been a few days ago that they talked about celebrating, is Wu Xie already planning that party? And how big exactly is it going to be? It had sounded like some little idea they would get back to some time later. “He said he wanted to celebrate the little things in life a little more. And we managed to eradicate every Wang branch we knew of, which does deserve a celebration.”

She hums thoughtfully, looking at the table for a moment. Zhang Rishan knows that her relationship with Wu Xie is still strained by her grandmother’s death, but as far as he knows she had switched most of the blame to the Wang clan as soon as she knew about their existence and their role in - well, everything and helped Wu Xie bring them down. So it’s something she should want to celebrate, too. But she had also kept her distance from everyone else, focusing on getting everything back under control after Huo Youxue died in Gutong Jing.

Looking back up she immediately changes the topic to Bao Sheng and other more formal business matters and they talk about work a little more, before she leaves. Which leaves him to more boring work for Xinyue when all he wants to do is delve right back into researching the cave. But Yin Nanfeng still has a lot of things to discuss that had to be put on hold while he was away hunting Wangs with the Hong Kong branch. At least now she is nice enough not to smother him with everything all at once, like she would have done before. And with a bright smile. Still he is glad when he can finally leave, grabbing everything that seems even remotely useful for his research.

Ba Ye has taken over most of the dining table with his books and divination equipment, but when Zhang Rishan comes home he is focused on his phone. He is indeed so focused on whatever he is reading that he almost drops his phone in startled surprise when Zhang Rishan places his armful of books and scrolls on the table. “Aiyah! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Ba Ye says, still a little breathless and puts his phone screen-down on the table.

It’s a little strange to be reprimanded for the way he moves around in his home. He did not intentionally sneak up on Ba Ye to startle him, it’s just the way he moves. Usually, when he comes home there is no one else there, so he doesn’t have a habit of announcing his presence to empty rooms. This is something he will have to get used to.

“Sorry,” he says, sitting down next to his stack of research and Ba Ye’s face immediately softens. He asks about the Jiumen-meeting and about the Chens, and it seems to be out of genuine interest and not just friendly small talk. Because while Ba Ye might be very good at friendly small talk with strangers he has never done any friendly small talk with Zhang Rishan. Or with any of the people he was close with when Zhang Rishan was around.

It feels a little like a farce to still call it “Jiumen” when in reality there are only three clans left. Or rather two clans and one individual representing what’s left of that third clan. It’s tiresome and Zhang Rishan doesn’t really want to talk about it in great detail, he would rather delve into his research. But Ba Ye was part of the original nine, maybe he wants to reclaim his clan and that is why he is asking so many questions about this? And it’s also about what’s left of his clan and things he might still have a claim of ownership to, so he has a right to know.

When Zhang Rishan asks if he wants to become the new ‘Boss Qi’ and reestablish the clan, Ba Ye gets very thoughtful for a moment. “No, no I don’t think I want to. Those are no longer my people. It’s like you said, they are so far removed from the people who were once known as the Lao Jiumen, that I don’t feel connected to them at all. I have no responsibilities for those people and I don’t think they would acknowledge me as their leader. I’d rather stay here and research this cave with you.”

Which is a really good point for Zhang Rishan to ask if this day’s research has given Ba Ye any new insights. “Nothing useful,” he replies, looking discontentedly at his half of the table that is covered in open books and charts and notes. Zhang Rishan knows better than to pick up one of those randomly placed books to have a look himself, he remembers how Ba Ye can get. Thankfully the dining table is big enough that they both have enough room for their respective books and notes and they delve back into their research.

Ba Ye’s way of researching is quite distracting, there is always the rusting of paper, books being shuffled around and an occasional murmur, obviously to himself. Zhang Rishan has to block him out again, to focus on his own reading about all the known different kinds of harvest gods. It’s something he has mastered quite well, blocking everything else out and just focusing on one task. So Ba Ye actually manages to startle him a little by suddenly touching his shoulder and putting down a steaming mug next to him.

“Here, I made some fresh tea,” he says softly and his hand lingers on Zhang Rishan’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he responds automatically, a little confused about how long he has been reading. “We should take a break and eat something, it’s time for dinner anyway,” Ba Ye continues, answering his unvoiced question. Zhang Rishan just nods, taking a sip of his tea. They need to make a little room at the table for the food, but he can discard some of the books anyway, having already worked through them.

Ba Ye needs a bit more time to bring some kind of order into his side of the table, so Zhang Rishan gets started on preparing dinner without him. Chopping vegetables is a nice repetitive task to let his mind wander and sort the information he has just read. Nothing useful has come up so far. This time he doesn’t have to close his eyes for a longer moment, he just blinks and his kitchen is gone. Instead all he sees is the cave again. And this time he manages to suppress the instinctive blink and gets a chance to look around him. Surprisingly he can actually look around him. It’s too dark to see much more than shadows moving around, only worsened by a few flickering sources of light that are too warm to be flashlights.

But he can only suppress the impulse to blink for so long. When he blinks again the kitchen is back and he finds himself just as he was. The only difference is that Ba Ye is just taking the knife out of his hand, looking worried. “What happened just now?” he asks, keeping the knife away from Zhang Rishan as if he is worried he might hurt himself. And isn’t that just the big question? What happened just now? “I had another hallucination,” he answers, because he doesn’t know what else to call this.

Ba Ye looks worried, finally putting the knife on the table. “Once could be chalked up to stress, twice is a little more worrisome, but I guess you were thinking about the cave just now?” He sounds very dubious, like he doesn’t really believe it himself. And now Zhang Rishan has to tell him, “It was actually the third time.” Every effort of calming himself down is obviously wiped away, because Ba Ye now looks stuck somewhere between anger and astonishment. “The third time? What? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

At that moment he did not tell him because there was nothing Ba Ye could have done about it, but he will not be pleased to hear that, so Zhang Rishan settles on, “The day before yesterday and you were sleeping.” Which is also true. Ba Ye’s anger vanishes, leaving only worry and something that looks like shame, with the way he presses his lips together. That’s a look Zhang Rishan doesn’t like at all, because even if Ba Ye might feel responsible for his well-being now, he has his own problems, especially that morning. “I’m fine, nothing happened,” he says, wanting to end this discussion, but it only causes Ba Ye to furrow his brows again. This time it’s annoyance, mixed with a tint of worry.

”Nothing happened? You completely froze, you didn’t react to me calling your name or even touching you, that’s not nothing!” While he can block out things he doesn’t want to hear pretty well he had never been able to do that with touch. No matter how deep in thought he might be, someone touching him would always make him snap out of his thoughts. But he had felt nothing while he had seen the cave. And heard nothing.

“Did I move in any way?” he asks, because he clearly remembers looking around the cave, but Ba Ye shakes his head. “No, you completely froze. I waved my hand in front of your face and you didn’t even blink.” So he had not actually looked around, he had just thought he looked around? “For how long?” Ba Ye makes a helpless gesture. “I don’t know! Long enough to get me worried!” It hadn’t seemed that long to him, just as long as he managed to not blink.

“Wait, I want to try something,” Ba Ye says and leaves in a hurry, only to be back just as quickly with his little bronze mirror. “This mirror can force evil ghosts and demons to show their true face and drive them away. It showed Fo Ye’s demon even before we had any idea he was seriously ill. Have a look.” Show his demons? Zhang Rishan is not sure he wants to have a look, he can imagine quite vividly what might be his ‘demon’ and that has nothing to do with that cave at all.

But Ba Ye wants to help and maybe it will show something that is not his worst memory haunting him. Maybe there really is an evil spirit he brought with him from that cave. He takes the little mirror with careful fingers, still a little reluctant to turn it over and have a look. “It protected me in that tomb, that’s why I wasn’t affected while Fo Ye and Er Ye fell sick. I always wore it when I left the house, especially when Fo Ye wanted me to go somewhere.” Zhang Rishan looks at Ba Ye, who just nods encouragingly and he really should not be scared of looking in a mirror.

The bronze surface reflects the light in a strange way when he turns it over, but it does not reveal some ghost or spirit or demon. The only thing he sees is his own reflection.

#zhang rishan #ba ye #fuba #qi tiezui #mystic nine #dmbj fic

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hillariat · 3 years

Text

Bubbline fic finished!

Posted the final chapter of my Bubbline fic, check it out!

Also huge thanks to @hehe-food for beta-ing both the 3 and the final chapter

Unexpected

Setting: Highschool AU

Status | Wordcount: Complete | 5,770

Tags: Fluff, emotionally confused PB.

Summary: Marceline confesses to her long time friend Bonnie. It takes an unexpected turn and, just as things were back to normal, takes another one.

AKA It's Bonnie's gay awakening.

Read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30298620/chapters/74678148 OR down below

The hurried pat-pat of Bonnie’s footsteps echoed through the hallways. Her legs, exhausted from a student council meeting that dragged on for far too long, begged her to slow down by at least 30%. She ignored them. She really didn’t want to keep Marceline waiting any longer than she had to after all.

When Bonnie reached the music room, she heard a familiar tune being played. Smiling to herself, she pushed the door open and saw Marceline perched upon a table and chair in a seat-footstool combo, strumming on her bass guitar. The raven-haired girl turned to Bonnie and smirked.

"’Sup Brainlord, how’s the prep meet?"

“Terrible, Becky wouldn’t shut up about adding more “tasteful” food to the school breakfast program even though that’s clearly out of our budget. It literally took us over half an hour just to move on to another topic.” Bonnie sighed and continued. “If she wasn’t so high up the pecking order, I’d have kicked her out. Personally.”

Marceline nudged her shoulder.

“I could do it for you”

“And be expelled? No thanks. As much as I hate Becky, I don’t think you leaving is worth it.”

Her heart lurched, practically begging to be freed from her chest. She opted to shrug it off, instead turning away from Bonnie to start packing her bass.

“Maybe I could do a prank instead. Y’know something that says, ‘fuck off from student council or else.’”

Bonnie raised her brows.

“Oh, and what would this prank be?”

By the time the girls left the school building, several rotten sandwiches and a passive aggressively typed note were left in Becky’s locker.

__________________________________________________________

"Thanks again for waiting up for me."

Bonnie entered the front passenger seat of Marceline’s car, inhaling the familiar scent of leather, strawberry and wood that probably came from an acoustic instrument lying around somewhere.

“Dude not this again. I told you, you don’t have to thank me every time I wait up for you. It’s like, our thing to hang out on Tuesdays anyways.”

Bonnie buckled in her own seatbelt whilst Marceline started the engine.

“Still, I appreciate the gesture. Not everyone would wait 2 hours just to have afternoon tea with their friend.”

Marceline felt a blush threaten to reveal itself on her cheeks. She really needed to get those butterflies in her ribs under control. She raised her hand, the other hand focused on driving out of the parking lot. “No. Stop with the sap. You’re turning me into a marshmallow.”

“You’re already a marshmallow, Marshmaline”

She gave a playful whack, accompanied by a glare. “Shut up! I am not a marshmallow, I’m too punk rock!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, unfazed by the other’s glare. They had long lost their terrorizing effect on her. “Sure you are. Oh! That reminds me”

She dug through her bag, fishing out a pack of guitar strings and handing it to Marceline. “Gauge 9 right?”

“Wha- Bon. You didn’t have to.”

Bonnie waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I distinctly remember a certain someone complaining about forgetting to buy them for 4th week in a row yesterday.” She turned away from Marceline, opting to look at the passing traffic. “and… well, I just happen to pass by the music store when I was at the mall with Lady yesterday.”

Marceline gave her a heartwarming smile.

“Aww, thanks mom”

Bonnie huffed.

“What would you do without me?”

Marceline snorted, smile still evident on her face.

“Forgetting them for another week probably.”

Bonnie chuckled.

“Damn right”

__________________________________________________________

The girls reached their destination, a quaint little café tucked in a quiet neighborhood near their school. Marceline introduced it to Bonnie a while ago, insisting that the red velvet cakes were “to die for”. Bonnie wouldn’t put it the same way, but she did admit that the food was “more than acceptable”. The place quickly became their favorite hangout spot, next to the diner ran by their friend’s ( Finn’s) parents. Though that diner was more of a clique hangout spot. This was more of a 'just them' spot.

They ordered their drinks, an apple pie to share and of course, a slice of red velvet cake for Marceline. They sat at their table, indulging in said items whilst making idle conversation, ranging from the food to Marceline’s music to school gossip.

Bonnie noticed how her shoulders were a little tense, how she would pick and flick her own fingers and how her eyes wandered in a way that said her thoughts weren’t entirely focused on the present. Marceline was clearly bothered by something.

The Bonnie of 5 years ago would’ve pried her incessantly, but now she knew better. Marceline was the kind of person that needed space to figure things out. She would tell Bonnie what was eating at her when she was good and ready. Any prying on Bonnie’s end would lead to scathing remarks and, if allowed to escalate, a fight. Hence, despite the well-meaning itch that urged her to figure out what was bothering her best friend, Bonnie didn’t ask. Respecting Marceline’s boundaries was more important.

When Marceline’s giggling fit died down after a joke about a certain lemon-faced principal , she took a deep breath. She warily made eye contact with Bonnie.

“I need to tell you something. Its -It’s important”

“Okay”. Bonnie nodded and kept her eyes at Marceline expectantly, conveying that Marceline had her full undivided attention. A long, pregnant pause ensued. Bonnie was tempted to break the silence, but Marceline got there first.

“I’m gay.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Bonnie expected. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, no not at all. Bonnie was just very unfamiliar with coming-out-of-the-closet etiquette. After all, most of her friends were straight.

She was clearly out of her element here. How should she respond to this? Did Marceline want a boisterous congratulation? Or a simple acceptance? In the end, Bonnie did what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Marceline raised her brows in surprise. She was expecting more of a reaction to that. Bonnie had just…. rolled with it. Maybe her fears were indeed unfounded. Maybe. It was still too early to tell.

Marceline took a deep breath, gathering what little courage it could provide and continued.

“I’m gay for you. As in, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

For a moment, Bonnie was tempted to make fun of Marceline’s unironic use of “like-like” but knew better than to do that. Instead, she was contemplating her response to it. She knew exactly what she should say, she knew her answer to that obvious unsaid question, but the vulnerable expression on Marceline’s face made her hesitate. Marceline looked so fragile, as if a gentle breeze could shatter her. The only other time Bonnie saw the other like this was when Marceline’s mother had passed.

Bonnie furrowed her brows, bit her bottom lip, and took a deep breath. It was definitely going to hurt, but she was good at making tough decisions for the people she cared about.

“I … don’t feel the same way. I’ve only ever seen you as a friend. I’m sorry Marceline.”

She could see Marceline shattering right in front of her. The girl’s shoulders slumped, a frown formed on her face and, most troubling of all; the light in the girl’s eyes dimmed. For a moment Bonnie wanted to take her words back, to make Marceline beam instead with an acceptance. But she knew from experience that giving false hope was worse than a flat-out rejection, so she kept her mouth shut.

In a flash, Marceline’s demeanor switched. She had a smile plastered on her face and her posture likewise improved. Perhaps it was a prepared response, as if she already knew this was the probable outcome. Though her newfound demeanor couldn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s cool. It’s cool.”

She paused as if unsure as to whether she should utter the next line. She opened her mouth, her voice wavered before she could even muster the first word.

“We can still be friends, right?” Accompanied with, again, a vulnerable expression. But this time it came from a girl who was already kicked down.

“Of course.” and Marceline wasn’t the only one who wanted to believe that.

They fell into silence, neither girl looking at each other anymore. There were no more words to be said on the matter. Bonnie glanced at the clock in the café. Time ticked by slowly, as if a second was enough time to write an entire thesis.

She searched for a change of topic, not wanting the silence to stretch into awkward territory. Her eyes wandered the surroundings and found it on their table. She gestured to the item.

“Are you going to finish that cake?” Bonnie’s fork was already threateningly hovering above the slice of cake.

Marceline smirked and hoped she didn’t misread Bonnie’s seemingly playful tone.

“I swear, one day you’re gonna get diabetes Bon. You’re such a sugar slut.”

Bonnie completely ignored her friend’s warning and grabbed the last bit of cake, eating it with a slight smile on her face.

“And you – She pointed to Marceline with her empty fork- are distasteful.”

Marceline laughed at that, the tension now fully leaving her. Bonnie could say the same, though she was just smiling at her friend.

Things were going to be okay.

Chapter 2: Confusion

The coffee cup made a clack as it landed on the table.

“Figured you’d want this.” Marceline flashed a toothy grin, though this one was softer than the usual mischievous one. Still, it was one Bonnie was well acquainted with.

Her stomach squirmed. She blinked. Odd. She didn’t remember having shellfish the night before.

“Uhhm, thanks.” She didn’t know why she fumbled. Marceline always got her coffee for their afternoon study sessions. She took a sip. Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot and drizzle, just the way she liked it, though for some reason, today it tasted a little sweeter.

Marceline plotted herself next to Bonnie and started rummaging through her bag. “So, what’s on the agenda today Bonbon?”

Bonnie scribbled in her notebook, having already started on her work. “Maths. We have 2 assignments due soon so I figured we should start.”

Marceline nodded and got her stuff out. For a good half hour, the only sounds that came from their table were the scrawls of pens, the clicking of calculators, turning of pages and occasionally, some curse words muttered under Marceline’s breath. Eventually though, the relative silence was broken.

“Hey, what’d you get for 3c?”

“69.3”

Bonnie saw a toothy grin appear on Marceline’s face. She frowned and shot a glare in return. That girl better not do wh –

“Thirst much, Bonnibel?”

She groaned. “Really Marceline? Get your head out of the gutter.”

Marceline shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one writing innuendos as answers.”

“Not my fault the teacher likes putting innuendos as answers”.

Marceline chuckled, then she glanced over to Bonnie’s notebook. “Anyways, how’d you get that number?” She leaned over to get a closer look at Bonnie’s homework, now just close enough for Bonnie to smell what shampoo the other used. It was strawberry. Bonnie took note of Marceline’s face, how her brows scrunched in concentration, how her green eyes always held a beautiful shade of green, how her raven hair cascaded down her face, framing her sharp jawline and how her lips pouted at a formula she obviously didn’t understand. Bonnie wondered if those lips felt soft. Wait, what?

“Earth to Bonnie? You there? Hello?” Marceline waved her hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said what’s the deal with this guy? -She gestured to some convoluted looking math term- How did it get to this?”

“Oh, well..” Bonnie went on to explain how she derived the expression, going through it step by step as she usually did, pushing away any strange thoughts of the girl next to her. They were just a fluke after all. Nothing more than spontaneous curiosity.

__________________________________________________________

It happened again a couple of days later. Marceline was casually humming along to a punk rock song in her car with Bonnie seated next to her, quietly scrolling through her phone. The song was crass, mocking, harsh even, filled with edginess that stereotyped the genre. But somehow when the same song came from Marceline’s vocal cords, hummed in a low tone, it sounded so much more…beautiful. Smooth. Gentle. It felt like a cloud was encompassing her, warm and welcoming.

Bonnie felt her insides turn to jello. Strange how she never noticed Marceline's voice having this effect.

She frowned. Something was up. Lightning never struck twice in the same place after all.

“You got your thinking face on Bonnie. What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing, I was just zoning out”

Marceline smirked, “Lemme guess, thinking of another experiment? Or wait, OH. Trying to answer one of the greatest mysteries of life.”

Bonnie glanced at her lap. Her hands were fiddling with loose jean threads. “You could say that.”

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the week, and the next, followed the same pattern. Bonnie and Marceline would hang out and Marceline would do something utterly mundane and Bonnie would find herself getting the squirmies. Her insides would twist and turn in all sorts of funny ways and she would find her cheeks embarrassingly warm.

She found herself lying down on her own bed, gazing at the ceiling with a half bolster clutched in her arms and contemplating the confusing experiences of the previous weeks. This was the 5th night in a row she had done this.

She has had both male and female suitors confessing to her before, though none of them were as close to her as Marceline was. However, she never gave them more than a second’s worth of thought as she preferred to utilize her brain’s resources on more important things. Chiefly; her schoolwork, independent science projects and her student council duties.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Could she…like Marceline?

She frowned; brows scrunched and lips upturned in confusion.

She had never experienced a crush on a girl before. What she had told Marceline was nothing but honest, she genuinely had never seen the other girl in a light that wasn’t platonic. Marceline was indeed only a dear friend to her. Nothing had changed between them, so why did her insides turn to mush when Marceline did something as mundane as laugh at her own joke or open a door for her. It didn’t make any sense.

Bonnie’s clock read 02:14am and she figured she should get some sleep before school. With heavy lidded eyes, Bonnie concluded that she should do what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

__________________________________________________________

Bonnie found her in the music room, as usual. She was alone. Good. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gripped her bag strap tightly. She didn’t know why she was the one who felt terrified, after all she was the one planning on basically cornering Marceline with a potentially awkward situation. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

Marceline turned to her, ceasing the strum of her bass. She flashed a warm smile. “Hey Bon, what’s up?”

“Marceline, do you want to go on a date?” At the sight of Marceline’s confused face, she added “With me. Romantically.”

Marceline raised her brows, even more confused than before. “Dude, I thought you weren’t into me that way? You said so like 2 weeks ago.”

She was right. Bonnie only hoped that her persuasion skills were good enough. “While it is true that I've never seen you in that way before, I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to try?” She paused, not really sure how to phrase it less awkwardly. “So, let’s go on a romantic date and see how that goes.”

Marceline looked downright offended by that offer. Was there some homosexual etiquette Bonnie was missing out on?

“I don’t need a pity date.”

Oh. OH. Oh god was that it how it sounded like? Bonnie knew she had to rectify the situation and soon.

“No no. It’s not that. It’s…“ Bonnie broke eye contact with Marceline, instead favoring the ground. She wasn’t sure why she felt so flustered, maybe it was because admitting the truth was embarrassing. “I’ve been thinking about us. How I feel about you, ever since that day you confessed.” Bonnie started fiddling with her hands.

Marceline tensed. She didn’t know where this was going, but she was paranoid and listened to every echoing thought in her head that said this was going to end up bad. Crap. She thought she was out of the woods after that day in the café.

”and I know I said that I hadn’t felt anything but platonic towards you before, and that’s true. But now I’m not so sure.”

Marceline furrowed her brows. What did she just say, was she implying that – “I…I might like you romantically. Or not. I don’t know. I was hoping that going on a date would help me figure things out. Its more for me really.”

Marceline blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Bonnie had…mixed feelings for her? No, rather Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt. Marceline released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding until now. It wasn’t an ideal outcome, but it was certainly not the worst that could have come from her confession to the redhead.

Taking Marceline’s prolonged silence as a no, Bonnie continued. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to even suggest that considering everything you’ve been through. Just forge-“

Marceline raised her hand to stop her babbling. “I get it. Figuring out your sexuality is hard and you’re not exactly swimming in gay friends. I'm down for it. But you have to promise me this.” She looked straight into Bonnie’s eyes, holding down probably the most serious stare she could muster. “The moment you figure out your feelings for me, you have to tell me. Even if it hurts me. Its just-I just need to know as soon as possible.” Her voice wavered. “Please.”

Bonnie nodded, understanding the gravity of this.

Marceline let out a huge breath, visibly relaxing. She smiled.

“Alright. You free Friday night?”

Bonnie smiled back at her. “Yeah, pick me up at 7?”

Chapter 3: Consolidation

Bonnie didn’t think she would be one of those girls. The ones that would empty their entire closet and prance around their clothing littered room wondering why nothing there was good enough for their date. But here she was doing exactly just that.

It was just Marceline after all. They’ve hung out a billion times before.

Except it wasn’t just Marceline was it?

Bonnie groaned; this was infuriating. She dug through another pile of clothes on her bed, burying herself in thoughts of what to wear instead of trying to unpack the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

In the end, she settled for a white sundress. Well, “settle” was a stretch considering she was going to change again if she hadn’t been interrupted by a ring from the front door. She rushed out of her bedroom, hurriedly making her way down wooden stairs with a tap-tap from her feet.

“Is that Marceline?” Her mother called out from a distant room. Knowing her it was probably the living room. Bonnie did get her love of sappy cable TV rom-coms from her after all.

“Yeah, I got it! I’ll be back by midnight.” Bonnie replied. “Alright, text me if your plans change.” After a brief moment of silence, she added, “Oh, and keep yourselves out of trouble okay! I do not want to hear a peep about either of you from the cops again!”

Bonnie giggled, reminiscing that exact event from 6 months ago.

“Oh. Wow.” Bonnie’s gaze was fixated on the sunset, a bleary mix of reds, oranges and yellows fading into dark blues that casted a looming shadow, outlining the town center. Bonnie and Marceline were on top of a ruined four story building without a roof which was nestled on top of a steep hill, giving them a brilliant vantage point that overlooked the entire t-

“Right.” Marceline flashed a cocky smirk. “Told you this place had the best view.” And she wasn’t wrong.

Bonnie scoffed. “Well sorry I thought otherwise when you dragged me through a forest, a chain link fence and an abandoned construction site.”

Marceline snorted. “What did you think I was gonna do?”

“Kill me and the hide the body?”

“Pfft, if I did that, whose homework would I copy of off?”

“Uh,” She tapped her chin, actually giving the question some thought. “Finn’s?”

Marceline looked at her with bewilderment, one eyebrow quirked above the other. “Dude, you know the whole point of copying off someone else is to pass, not fail.” Bonnie huffed, “Okay, fair point. But – "

“Hey, what are you two doing here?! Get down now!”

They snapped their heads to the source of the yelling. Down on the ground floor stood a middle-aged security guard, practically steaming with red-hot fury. Both girls looked at each other, conveying some unsaid message to each other, seemingly in agreement.

Then they ran.

After hopping through several cinder blocks and steel beams sprinkled with a few swears and complaints about thinking the place was abandoned, they got to a chain-linked fence. Knowing that they were pressed for time with the security guard hot on their tail, they opted to try to squeeze through a tiny gap on the bottom of the fence instead of climbing over it as they did before.

Bonnie crawled through just fine, merely getting some scuffs and dirt marks on her pullover. Marceline on the other hand got stuck, her “fashionable” ripped tank top getting caught on stray fence wiring. Both girls rushed to untangle Marceline, but with the stomp-stomp of booted footsteps coming ever closer to them, Marceline pulled Bonnie’s hands away from herself.

“Bon. I’m fine, just.. go ahead without me”

“But- “ Marceline pushed her away, stopping any argument Bonnie would give out.

“Go! I’ll text you when I’m home.” Bonnie stared at her for a moment in concern. Her eyes darted back and forth between her friend and the direction of the encroaching footsteps. Then she blurted,

“Shut the fuck up” and scrambled to get her friend out.

They both got caught.

After a phone call, a drive and long drawn-out conversation between Bonnie's mom and the police, both girls found themselves on the receiving end of a stern mother's gaze whilst seated on Bonnie's couch.

"Explain."

Before Bonnie could get a word out, Marceline started. "It was my idea Mrs. Butler, I dragged Bonnie to the construction site up at the hill near the end of town. I wanted to show her the sunset from up there.”

"The abandoned one?"

Marceline gave a sheepish smile "Well it turns out it wasn’t so abandoned after all".

Mrs. Butler wasn’t so amused. “Uh-huh.” She glanced at Bonnie, who was squirming in her seat from nervousness. "Bonnie, I know it wasn’t your plan but you still tagged along. You’re grounded for a week. That also means no access to the garage lab."

Bonnie groaned but didn’t feel the need to protest that decision. It was fairly light considering they did get the police involved.

Her mom turned to Marceline. "And Marceline. It’s late so you can stay over, but in the morning, I am going to have a talk with your father, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

“Good, now I’m going to head to bed, it's late. Bonnie, be a dear and help set up the couch for Marceline” With that, Mrs. Butler went to her bedroom. Bonnie and Marceline started setting up the couch in silence, bringing out blankets and extra pillows from a nearby closet. Marceline wondered if this would be a good time to say what was on her mind, but was interrupted by Bonnie asking her to grab the duvet. When she dragged the duvet to the couch, Bonnie noticed her stumble a little. And then again. She was limping.

“Marceline, your leg!”

“Huh?” Marceline glanced down, seeing a small trail of blood running from her knees. Her very battered and cut knees. “Oh shit”

Bonnie immediately pushed Marceline to sit down on the couch, then ran off into the kitchen muttering something about alcohol. She then came back with a small first aid kit and began treating Marceline’s wounds. Marceline figured this was as good of a time as any.

“Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn’t know there was security there, I checked out the whole place and didn’t even see any keep out signs.” She fiddled nervously with the duvet below her.

Bonnie flashed a warm smile. “It’s fine, just…” She glanced down at Marceline’s knee and frowned, then looked up and made eye contact with her. “Be more careful next time?”

Marceline gave a reassuring smile.

“I will.”

Ding-ding-ding-ding! God, Marceline was one hell of an impatient girl. Bonnie rushed to open the door, silently cursing herself for zoning out for so long.

Marceline was clad in a red-black plaid flannel paired with a dark grey top and ripped black jeans. 'Classic Marceline,' thought Bonnie. Though in the raven-haired girl’s words it would’ve been classic gay, whatever that meant.

Marceline started, “Hey.” She flashed a gentle, earnest smile. She can do this. She’s good at playing cool. She’s the coolest person in school. Totally cool. Absolutely not having a heart attack right now.

“Hey.”

“You look great tonight.”

Bonnie smiled, soft and sweet. “Thanks, you look nice too.” She gestured to the other.

Marceline snorted. “Pfft, this is my normal outfit, what are you talking about?”

She smirked. Oh, it was all too easy to tease Marceline. “Maybe I think you look nice normally.”

Marceline spluttered into some incoherent murmurs. Her cheeks flushed crimson red and she scrambled to look at anywhere except Bonnie. Bonnie found it amusing.

She noticed that the raven-haired girl had her hands tucked behind her back, as if hiding an object from her view. Before she could ask though, Marceline beat her to it, having recovered from her gay panic.

“I, uhh, got you flowers.” She presented a bouquet of soft pink and white roses.

"Flowers?"

Marceline averted her gaze, instead staring at the small scuff marks on her shoes."Yeah. Figured I'd, uhmm....give you the full date experience." But the flustered cheeks and wavering voice said there was more to it than that.

Bonnie felt a heavy pang strike through her chest. She didn’t say anything about it though, figuring that it was a little too late to back out now. "Thanks."

She took the flowers into the kitchen and quickly deposited them into an empty vase. Then she rushed back out and hopped into Marceline’s car and they drove off. She turned to Marceline. “So, where are we going?”

Marceline smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“At least tell me if it's legal. I promised my mom I wouldn’t get in trouble with the cops tonight.” She crossed her arms and pouted. Marceline thought it was adorable and wondered if she should comment. She didn’t.

Instead, she let out a cackle. “Nah it's totally legal. Don’t worry about it.”

They continued the drive in relatively peaceful silence, with only the radio to fill in the space. Bonnie’s gaze fell to her lap, where she fiddled with the hem of her dress. This was it. She was going on a date. With her best friend. Marceline was her date. Huh. Sounds weird.

Chapter 4: Conclusion

Bonnie glanced at the building, eyes widening at the familiar sight of the local science museum. "I thought you didn’t like science?"

Marceline shrugged, "I don’t. But I'm down for learning about the things you like.” She flashed a gentle smile and Bonnie's insides went into a tumbling frenzy of butterflies and thrumming heartbeats. “Now c’mon, this place closes at 9!"

Before her insides could murder her further, she found herself being dragged to the building, hands intertwined and all. Bonnie couldn’t bring herself to complain.

They grabbed their tickets from the ticketing booth and then trailed through the museum, weaving through various exhibits from electrochemistry to evolution to tectonic plates. They stopped by an anatomy exhibit; Bonnie having decided that the musculoskeletal system was an absolute must-see.

“Oooooh, the knee joint!”

Marceline quirked her brows, “What makes this one so special?”

"Well, it is the largest joint in our body, and y’know, THE joint that enables us to walk.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it like, weak? I always hear about people having busted knees or something.”

“That is true. That’s mostly because it does endure a lot of force when we’re using it, about one and a half times our body weight when walking and eight times when squatting.” Bonnie paused for a moment. ”Oh! And it’s also susceptible to numerous pathological conditions like arthritis”

Marceline hummed absentmindedly, then said, “Heh, y’know, you’re just like osteoarthritis” -she turned to her and flashed a toothy grin-” ’Cause you make my knees weak.”

Bonnie stared at her as if she grew another head. A pause ensued, just as awkward and confused as Bonnie’s expression. It went on for a bit, what with Marceline having no clue how to handle it and Bonnie trying to piece together what in the world just happened. She eventually broke the silence with a snort and a smile.

"Well," She moved closer to the other, interlinking their arms together. "You’re like a cation because you’re positively attractive.”

Marceline doubled down, practically filling the museum with cackles. Her cheeks were tinted red, though whether that was from being flustered or from the strain of laughter Bonnie couldn’t tell.

“Omg Bonnie that’s…” She took a breath in an attempt to get her chuckles to die down. ”That’s so you.” Another fit of laughter hit her.

Bonnie floundered, muttering a brief string of indecipherable words and turning away from Marceline in a vain attempt to hide her beet-red face.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. I didn’t say it was bad. It's….” Marceline rubbed her neck, eyes purposely averting Bonnie’s gaze. “It’s actually really cute.” She flashed a tentative smile. Her cheeks mirrored Bonnie’s.

Bonnie pouted, “Geez, you really can’t take a compliment, can you?”

“Welp, sorry, my parents are as emotionally constipated as I am.”

Bonnie chuckled, then tugged the other along to another exhibit.

They wandered through the exhibits one by one, with Bonnie rambling on about the four ventricles of the heart and some Newtonian mechanics and Marceline occasionally quipping in with a flirt or a joke (usually a pun).

“You wanna go watch a movie? I heard they’re premiering the remake of the Thing at the old theatre downtown” Marceline asked. They had finished a full round at the Museum, just in the nick of time as an announcement declared that the museum was closing. Now they were making their way to the carpark.

Bonnie was a little surprised that Marceline would have heard of the Thing. She didn’t seem like someone who would keep up with Sci-fi remakes, then again, the Thing was also a horror, that could explain it.

Bonnie shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” She glanced down at their still intertwined hands. It was all still surreal to her. She really was on a date. With Marceline.

“Bon? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just…uhh, zoning out. Yep. Heh.” She really, really wished she was better at lying. Marceline raised her brows but didn’t comment any further, to Bonnie’s relief.

__________________________________________________________

They wound up seated in a small theatre, with Marceline sipping on her soda and Bonnie occasionally munching on popcorn. Bonnie glanced at Marceline, wondering if she should be doing something at this moment. Their arms were still interlinked, still a fairly platonic gesture. She wondered if she should push it, cross the platonic boundary a little bit more. After all Marceline clearly had with her incessant flirting. She supposed she should reciprocate by initiating something too.

And so, cautiously, Bonnie leaned in, slowly placing her head on the crook of Marceline's shoulder. Marceline tensed for a moment, and for that moment Bonnie wondered if she should retreat. But then Marceline relaxed and leaned in.

Cuddling wasn't something the girls ever did together in their friendship. Physical affection, whilst there with casual hand-holding, a hug here and there and such, was always kept at a respectable distance. This was new and if the butterflies in Bonnie’s stomach were anything to go by, it was a good kind of new.

Maybe dating wasn’t so weird after all.

__________________________________________________________

Marceline brought Bonnie to her doorstep in silence. Not the comfortable kind that they often shared. No, this was tense, heavy, as though there was a huge anvil weighing them down. Both of them clearly knew why, it was the end of their date after all. Neither of them really wanted to start, but, feeling obligated because this was her idea, Bonnie did.

"As cliche as it sounds, I really had a good time tonight." After a short pause, she added, "I'd like to do it again sometime."

Marceline’s brows shot up into her hairline. "Wait does this mean -"

“Ehp!” She croaked. Despite knowing what Marceline's reaction would be, Bonnie still found a lump rising in her throat. She took a breath and tried again.

“Yeah.” Bonnie smiled tentatively.

Marceline’s face went through various stages of metamorphosis, from confusion to disbelief to being completely flustered red. It finally settled on a dumbfounded smile with rose-tinted cheeks.

“That’s, wow.”

Bonnie giggled and crossed her arms. She just couldn’t resist the opportunity presented. “Really? You got your crush to like you back and all you can say is ‘wow’. Real smooth Marceline.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Bonnie could practically hear the pout from her. She snickered and Marceline desperately scrambled for a change in topic. She found one and smirked.

"Does this mean I can kiss you? Coz you were so obvious with the staring just now"

Bonnie scoffed. “We both know I wasn’t staring, nice try though. As for the other thing,” She averted her gaze and gave a non-committal shrug. “Maybe on the second date, or the third”

Marceline grinned. “Ooooh, there’s gonna be a third date now?”

“Only if you behave.” She deadpanned.

Marceline cackled, her voice echoing throughout the silent neighborhood. Soon enough, Bonnie couldn’t help but join and now in between the quiet of suburbia were the giggles of two girls.

They kissed on the second date.

#bubbline #bubbline fanfiction #bubbline fanfic #adventure time #adventure time fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #princess bubblegum #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #atimers #at #at fanfic #at fanfiction

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powerosewaterpuff · 4 years

Text

yk so i was watching bmw (boy meets world :) ) while procrastinating an essay so oF COURSE i decided to write some more of my reverse robin au (that pertains to jason being the oldest of the batkids w/ him and dick growing up together) except fLUFF bc i cannot handle angst rn (oR cOulD I wE wiLL nEvER kNoWwwW)

oh and disclaimer there may be several medical inaccuracies so please feel free to correct me :)

jason often gets night terrors, ones that can get particularly awful when bruce goes on an overnight business trip. so one night bruce is in new york after being forced into it by lucius, with dick being adopted for some time now. dick was awake because he was having trouble sleeping, for no real particular reason in all honesty. he heard a short yell though, coming from the room next to him and he dashed over, tripping over his blanket and still gripping zitka tightly. he knew that he wasn’t supposed to fight yet, but he doesn’t really think about that as he yanked jason’s door open.

he then saw his brother laying on his side, turning back and forth, breathing heavily looking so visibly pained it was hurting dick. he rushed over to jason, his eyes darting around because he just didn’t know what to do. taking his chances he tapped jason’s shoulder gently, and he already felt like it wasn’t the right move but he sucked it up and tried again, only this time to some result. jason shot up, gripping on tightly to dick’s arm, his eyes hazy and unfocused and his chest heaving.

dick remained still, only slowly trying to push jason off of him and back into his bed. jason’s grip didn’t let but he laid back in bed, squeezing his eyes tightly as if he was trying to push away everything he had just witnessed. dick took this as an initiative to gently climb into bed, as jason fell back into a less violent but equally as stressful sleep. he placed zitka next to jason, who still hasn’t let go of his arm, and awkwardly sat up in bed, almost acting as a protector. slowly, dick began to doze off, feeling a lot more comforted in his brothers prescence then he had been in his own room.

jason on the other hand, doesn’t remember much of that night, as he rarely fully remembers any of his night terrors (only the scars they leave behind), but when he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn with a few fragments of something he would prefer not to remember, he puts it together rather quickly. he guessed it would happen, and he could’ve told bruce and he knew the guy would drop anything in a heartbeat, but that pissed him off, more so then it justifiably should. he wasn’t a child and he hadn’t been a child for a long fucking time, and it was stupid that he couldn’t deal with a single night without bruce. jason then turned onto his side, disgruntled with a new found rage directed at himself that he might take out on someone else, when he found dick, sleeping at an awkward position.

he was leaning on the headboard, but was slumped down and drooling a bit, which would have been hilarious blackmail material on any other given day. but today, jason felt a pit in his stomach. the only rational thought that his mind could conjure in its fear muddled frenzy was please tell me i didn’t hurt dick, pleasepleasepleaseplease. he quickly checked over dick’s face, cupping his checks and looking for any signs of a bruise. he had given bruce a particularly nasty one earlier in his tenure at the manor, after bruce attempted to restrain him while he was having a night terror so he could avoid hurting himself, instead jason kicked him in the jaw. he even felt bad about it the next day, which was an odd surprise for him at the time.

after checking over dick hasilty, he could see he wasn’t all that hurt, even though if he looked hard enough he could see inklings of nail shaped markings in dick’s right arm just under his shirt sleeve. jason felt a bit of bile rising up, as he gently shifted dick into a better sleeping position, and pulled the blanket up to his chin and slipped a pillow underneath him. dick opened his bleary eyes, mumbling jason’s name in question, and squinting his eyes. jason rolled his eyes but nodded, “yeah, it’s me. now sleep–why’re you shaking yer head? you don’ wanna sleep? too bad.” jason pressed another pillow onto the side of dicks face in a teasing attempt to smother him to sleep, but dick only proceeded to giggle, and snuggle closer to jason, who had sat up already. jason tossed the pillow to the side after a few seconds of play fighting, dick was going to be too sleepy to remember this break in the ‘teasing older brother’ façade. so, he ran his hand through his little brothers hair and laid back down, tracing soft circles into dick’s scalp absentmindedly. and feeling a rush of gratitude that bruce had brought this little circus boy into his life. he really didn’t know what he would do without his little brother. (needless to say, dick became a constant comforter in jason’s night terrors).

jason blames dick for everything. if a vase got knocked over, it was a dick. if the tv wasn’t working, dick had been playing with the satellite. if his phone was missing, dick stole it to play games. if his sweater had a stain, you better bet it was dick. the boy in question, of course, adamantly denies these facts and does have a way of persuading bruce (he is the golden child after all, jason could testify to that), but bruce also knows both of his boys are annoyingly good liars. so every incident is treated like a little miniature crime scene, and it never fails to make jason howl in laughter at dick explaining how he couldn’t have possibly used up jason’s shampoo because he has his own washroom with his own shampoo and so w h y jason w h y would i steal your shampoo. (jason’s usual response is a deadpanned ‘why wouldn’t you’, and that just gives bruce another headache as the two bicker on and on and on.)

the pair of them usually go biking together, and it’s usually quite tranquil to start. until dick makes a sly comment that jason’s old bones must be so tired from cycling, so why not take a break? jason snide reponse is how the fuck are you touching the pedals with your stubby ass legs. that’s really all it takes for them to delve into a full on biking race. it never really ends well, but the two always come out rolling in laughter so whose to complain.

dick thinks real housewives of beverly hills is better then new jersey, and jason is adamant that new jersey is superior in every shape and way. the two agree that atlanta is the absolute winner no matter what though.

jason is dick’s english tutor. and it’s safe to say that it’s an experience. dick already knew a fair amount of english growing up, his father had been a wonderful teacher but it wasn’t exactly up to gotham academy standards apparently (jason knew the feeling) and his accent was still quite prevalent to have him be considered an esl kid, so jason ended up being his tutor once dick started going to english class at school and after his time with an esl instructor. jason, who has an untapped passion for literature that not many can match, is absolutely dedicated to teaching dick, because fuck man this is genius! genius, dick! and dick isn’t exactly a fan, but he does secretly think jason should be a teacher, he’s better then any of the teachers he’s had that’s for sure (his father would’ve really loved jason too, that was also for sure). and dick is considering buying him a little briefcase with his little initials on it. ((it happens, and jason tries really really hard not to cry))

bruce is absolutely that parent that secretly takes pictures of every single moment possible. he isn’t a photographer, in any sense, but he likes to capture natural moments, and he has a series of pictures dedicated to the one trip him and the boys took to Barbados where he started this habit. he wasn’t and still isn’t a big fan of beaches, they’re hot, crowded and just too much for bruce to feel any kind of comfortable in. he remembers sitting under a floppy beach umbrella, feeling the knot in his chest sit heavily on his heart, fire ants scurrying across the underlining of his skin, burning under the side stares of those passing by. it wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of dick riding on jason’s little shoulders, as they trotted around waist deep in the clear ocean water, that the fist squeezing his heart like the rotten fruit it was began to ease. he glanced down at the camera that alfred had subtly slipped into their bag after dicks insistence, and lifted it up to fiddle with it slightly. then raised it up to take a swift picture. capturing jason mid laughter as he leaned back, in a joking attempt to shake dick off who was in the middle of a yelp but had entrenched his hands in jason’s mop of curly hair. it was hilarious imperfect, but bruce would not want it any other way. not at all.

(jason found it once. he saw the picture at the corner of his eye sitting by the keyboard of the ‘Batcomputer’ ((dick was so shitty with names, thank god he didn’t come up with flippy man as his code name )), and he hesitated for a moment before hastily grabbing it. examining it with an unexpected amount of gentleness, he rubbed his thumb against the glass above dick’s hands in his hair and felt something snake around his heart. slowly and methodically seeping into it until he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe. then he heard damian trotting down the stairs as he explained the details of his anthropology class to dick who was hopping down behind him. jason shoves the picture back and grits his teeth together to ignore the sting that was absolutely not in his eyes)

aAAAND THATS ALL!! i’ve had these in my notes for a while so it’s relief to get them out there hehe so i really hope y’all enjoy ive legit been falling in love with this reverse au bC THERE IS SO MUCH POTENTIAL U G H IVE NEVER BEEN EXCITED TO WRITE SHIT UNTIL NOW SO Y A Y FOR INSPIRATION

Y A Y :)

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leelysian · 4 years

Text

Changbin as your older brother AU 💖✨

genre: fluff, bullet point fic

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

Disclaimer: I do not personally know Changbin. This work is purely fiction and my own idea. I took inspiration from his on screen persona. Please do not translate or re-upload my work.

A/N: hi :) Sorry if this is kinda bad. I’m running out of ideas for this series(?). It’s really hard to write these aus for the members when there’s limited knowledge about them and when you’re trying to make everything seem different without making it seem like they’re all one dimensional and cut from the same cloth. Thank you to everyone who has been reading these older brother aus and thank you for being patient. Please leave some feedback, it really keeps me going. ❤️

☆ Let’s start with you as babies.

☆ Changbin would for sure as kiddy questions like “How did the baby get inside mummy’s tummy?” “When will baby come out?” “How does baby poop?”

☆ Your parents either answered him vaguely or somehow dodged his questions.

☆ Would sleep in your parents bedroom close to your mum to protect her baby bump.

☆ Would be hella excited to feel you kick in your mum’s tummy.

☆ Would say cute things to the baby bump. “Come out quickly baby I can’t wait to play with you.” “We can play with *insert favourite toy* together.” “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” I am close to tears

☆ Doesn’t care about the gender.

☆ When you were born, he was extremely excited to see you but little Binnie patiently waited till your parents had their moment first until they ushered him to the hospital bed.

☆ He was wide eyed as he held you as if scared to hurt you. He smiled when he stroked your cheek with a finger and smiled wider when you grabbed onto his finger.

☆ CUDDLES, CUDDLES AAAAAAAND MORE CUDDLES

☆ Tried to help your parents take care of you but most of the time failed.

☆ *tries to put pants on you* *gets kicked in the face instead*

☆ The only thing he could properly do was cuddle you as he fed you a bottle and somehow you ate properly if he was the one feeding you when you were being fussy.

☆ *you two fall asleep while he’s holding you*

☆ Adoring/curious stares.

☆ Fed you a bit of lemon for jokes when you were starting to grow teeth and had the time of his fricking life when he saw your reaction.

☆ I’m talking the kind of laughs he does with his whole body.

☆ Helped you learn how to walk patiently. Just laughed when you fell on your butt.

☆ Taught you how to high 5 at a very young age.

☆ You talked to him a lot. Not like he understood what you said because it was mostly babbling but it was fun for both of you.

☆ You broke a lot of his toys. He’d get upset until he got new ones.

☆ The one toy he never shared with you was Gyu, his plushie.

☆ Fast forward you’re older and know how to walk and talk coherently, Changbin is a kid.

☆ Changbin wants cookies but they’re on the top shelf and your mum purposefully put them there so neither of you could reach.

☆ “Changbin what are you doing?”

☆ Changbin: 👀

☆”I’m gonna tell mum~”

☆ “NO DON’T. If you help me, I’ll give you a cookie then you have to promise me you won’t tell mum.”

☆ Your smart ass contemplated for a few seconds before you agreed, “Ok what do we do?”

☆ “If I lift you up can you grab the jar? Don’t drop it.”

☆ “Yes.”

☆ Somehow both of you managed to retrieve the jar unscathed. Why none of you thought to grab a chair and do it, I don’t know.

☆ One cookie turned to two then three until the jar was half empty and your dad caught you.

☆ Everyone except you two with crumbs around your mouths in the room:️

👁️👄👁️

☆ Your dad walked in with brooding eyes. He grabbed a cookie and started eating quietly, “It’s a secret.”

☆ All three of you smiled happily and continued munching on the cookies.

☆ Until a while later your mum walked in and gasped, “YOU ATE ALL THE COOKIES?! *insert dad’s name* YOU WERE IN ON THIS TOO!”

☆ The three of you gulped nervously until you said, “No mum look! We saved a few for you!” The three of you smile innocently.

☆ Your mum sighed and smiled exasperatedly. “This is the last time.” A chorus of agreement sang throughout the room yet nobody meant a single word.

☆ Most of the time you two were hyperactive and played around so much you’d be knocked out cold by the time it was around 9 pm.

☆ Your parents had to lug you to your shared room.

☆ You two played tag a lot, he was really fast so you’d always get tagged very quickly.

☆ HIDE AND SEEK

☆ Running. So much running. You’re the hyper kids.

☆ Rock paper scissors. Winner flicks the loser’s forehead. Changbin always took the penalty but never really doled it out on you, if he did it wasn’t too hard.

☆ Races. “LAST ONE IS A ROTTEN EGG!”

☆ Changbin could easily win, but sometimes he slowed down purposefully to let you win for a change.

☆ Giggles. Giggles everywhere. Giggles all the time.

☆ Pillow forts in your room.

☆ Tickle fights.

☆ Cuddling together while watching cartoons.

☆ You thought he was cool.

☆ He liked you thinking so highly of him.

☆ Made him want to be even cooler for you.

☆ He’d ruffle your hair playfully.

☆ He’d pinch your nose. “AAAAHHH”

☆ He’d pull your hair.

☆ PIGGY BACK RIDES!!!!!!!!!

☆ Such a joker. It was harmless fun.

☆ Once you doodled on his school notes. He got mad and stopped talking to you.

☆ He rarely got angry at you, sure you two bickered sometimes and sometimes got whiny at each other.

☆ You apologised with a treat you got, instead of eating it by yourself, you gave it to him as a peace offering.

☆ He didn’t eat it himself, he shared. “It’s okay just don’t do it again. These are important. You’ll know when you get older.”

☆ “Ok. I’m sorry.”

☆ Things became alright again.

☆ Fast forward you’re tweens/teens/young adults.

☆ The dynamic is wild.

☆ You two would always goof around like idiots.

☆ Changbin annoyed you a lot.

☆ “Y/N look over there!” you’re stuck in visible confusion. *smacks your head and runs*

☆ “CHANGBIN!”

☆ You’re eating chips. “Y/n what’s that?” “What’s what?” *steals bag*

☆ “When are you gonna stop tricking me?”

☆ “When are you gonna stop falling for that?”

☆ You get pissed.

☆ Then it escalates into a wrestling match until ultimately you get hurt and start nearly crying in pain.

☆ “FUCK! SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY HERE YOU CAN HIT ME BACK. PLEASE DON’T TELL MUM! PLEASE STOP CRYING!”

☆ You’re watching tv peacefully. Changbin walks in with a nerf gun/water gun. “REACH FOR THE SKY!”

☆ The living room turns into a warzone or a set for mission impossible.

☆ You ‘borrow’ his clothes. “Y/N STOP STEALING MY SHIT!”

☆ He ‘borrows’ your charger. “GET YOUR OWN CHARGER CHANGBIN!”

☆ He casually strolls into the living room, sits next to you with feet propped up on the table, snatches the remote when you’re not looking and changes the channel.

☆ “HEY I WAS WATCHING THAT!”

☆ “Well too bad. I don’t wanna watch it.”

☆ “GIMME THE REMOTE!” “No :}”

☆ Another wrestling match for the remote.

☆ You hide his glasses. Basically keep them with you.

☆ “Hey y/n have you seen my glasses?” “Nope.”

☆ He looks EVERYWHERE.

☆ You keep them on top of the tv when he’s away. “Hey Changbin found it on the tv.”

☆ “That’s weird I don’t remember putting them there. The heck?”

☆ “Maybe you’re just losing your mind. Already becoming an oldie?”

☆ “I may be old but I can still kick your ass.”

☆ You’re the younger sibling that either grows up to the same height as him quicker or grows taller than him somehow.

☆ He hates it. You thrive on it. “Hehe shortie. Can you even reach?”

☆ So he started working out to tone up.

☆ You’re barely able to lift a heavy box. He picks it up with ease. “Do you even lift?”

☆ He’s washing the dishes. You leave your dish for him and sneak out. “Y/N! I SWEAR-”

☆ You have a lit music taste because of him.

☆ You’re sleeping, he’s up early. You need to go to school. Instead of waking you up like a normal person, he pulls the blankets completely off of you and tackles you. “Y/N WAKE UP!”

☆ “CHANGBIN YOU CRAZY BASTARD! DO YOU WANNA DIE?!”

☆ You two are eating. He’ll finish eating seemingly at the speed of light and stare at you eating. “I’m not sharing.”

☆ “I didn’t say anything.”

☆ awkward silence

☆ You pass your food to him. “You owe me, pabbit (pig + rabbit)”

☆ Both of you forget about it later on.

☆ He’s hella clumsy.

☆ He’d definitely break a glass or plate or vase.

☆ He’s the type to fix something just enough to make it seem not broken so the next person who uses it would think they broke it.

☆ Anything to not get his ass handed to him by mummy dearest.

☆ You do this thing to annoy him which is basically mock/copy him when he tells you something.

☆ “Hey you know-” “Hey you know-” “you know that-” “you know that-” this continues a few more times until he screams and tackles you.

☆ You did this thing where you literally jumped on his back when he was unaware and you'd stick to him. The scream was worth bursting your eardrums. Worked every time.

☆ He was built he could carry you.

☆ Another thing is copying his actions.

☆ He yawns, you yawn. He scratches his nose, you copy. He stretches, you stretch. He shifts, you copy.

☆ “STOP COPYING ME!” “Stop copying me” “I said STOP COPYING ME!” “I said stop copying me!”

☆ “I hate you.” “I love you too bro.”

☆ His friends like you and a lot of times you hang out with him and his friends.

☆ He wears the weirdest stuff just for shits and giggles.

☆ “Hey y/n.” “What?” you look at him and burst out laughing.

☆ Where he got a shark head mask, you had no idea. You had tears running down your face as he started to sing and sexy dance to baby shark.

☆ “STOP I’M GONNA PEE!”

☆ You two say the darndest things.

☆ “I just realised- if vampires can’t go out in the sunlight then wouldn’t the moonlight kill them too?

☆ “How?”

☆ “Moonlight is just the sunlight shining from behind the moon dumbass.”

☆ “Oh shit you’re right.”

☆ Another example of this would be:

☆ “The hospital is the only place you leave without entering.”

☆ Both of you: 👁️👄👁️

☆ You’re eating watermelon. You bite some of the white bit.

☆ “I just realised the worst part of the watermelon tastes like a cucumber.”

☆ awkward silence “wait you’re right.”

☆ “Anyways, here you can wash the plates.”

☆ “Y/N!”

☆ AEGYO FLUFFY GOODNESS

☆ Will use everything in his cuteness arsenal to get what he wants.

☆ You hate to admit it actually works sometimes.

☆ “Y/n~ pleeeaaaseee get me some cookies.”

☆ “No.”

☆ He keeps whining and rocking or shaking you. “PLEEEEAAAAAASEEE”

☆ “FINE!”

☆ Who’s really the older sibling and who’s really the younger sibling?

☆ “You know you could’ve just gotten them yourself with the time it took you to annoy me into getting them for you?”

☆ He just smiles toothily.

☆ “If you could choose between a giant me or 5 mini me’s which would you choose?”

☆ “Neither I’d rather die.”

☆ “Y/N! WHYYYYY” he whines and shakes you.

☆ He’s always there for you when you need him the most. He’ll always comfort you with tight hugs.

☆ He’s the type of person to make silly jokes and make you smile or laugh to make you feel better instead of sort of brooding with you.

☆ This is only acceptable with him, if anyone else tried to be goofy when you were upset it wouldn’t work.

☆ Because it’s Changbin’s thing. Only he has that power.

☆ You rarely see him upset. He’s always smiling, joking around and acting cute.

☆ One time, really late at night you saw him in the kitchen sitting with a glass of milk. He hadn’t noticed you.

☆ This was off putting because you rarely saw him this quiet. He’s always laughing and loud.

☆ He was staring off in the distance, the glass gathering condensation from being out of the fridge and into warm temperature.

☆ “Can’t sleep?” He was startled and shook his head no. “What’s on your mind?”

☆ “It’s nothing.” You sat with a glass of water. “You know you can tell me, right?”

☆ “I know I just don’t wanna bother you.” he said and this confused you. “Why would you be bothering me? That’s absurd.”

☆ He shrugged, “I dunno, seems like all I do is annoy people these days.”

☆ You pat his back. “Hey, that’s not true. Well it only applies to me because you’re my sibling. That’s a thing. Is there anything specific you’re talking about?”

☆ He stays quiet for what seems like the longest time until he unloads.

☆ You’re not good with words like he is. You try your best to listen and give sensible input.

☆ Changbin admired that about you. Despite being younger, you were sometimes mature and understanding. You were authentic, you never tried to be something you weren’t.

☆ Which is why he always valued your words.

☆ Afterwards if he had anything on his mind, sometimes he’d vent to you.

☆ You the ability to make his insecurities disappear simply because he feels stupid for the way he thinks when he talks to you.

☆ You make his problems miniscule, not in a belittling way but in a way that makes him realise how things could be different or done differently.

☆ Your sense of perception was something amazing.

☆ This is why Changbin believed you were the best sibling he could ask for.

☆ But little did he know, you wouldn’t be able to function properly if he wasn’t the goofy, silly, clumsy, idiotic Changbin who exists today.

☆ He’s just the right type of flavour you need in your bland life.

☆ don’t be shy put some more.

☆ He’s the right balance of a clown, a baby and a guardian angel.

☆ He’s extremely caring, loyal, kind hearted and annoying.

☆ You’d change absolutely nothing.

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