#totally self indulgent fic

[wifeyoozi]

House husband! Kim mingyu x reader drabble (comf + fluff + smut)

Imagine coming home after a long day at work. You had worked an extra shift after your boss has embarrassingly and sexistly reprimanded you in front of your important clients during your meeting. You are tired as hell, your eyes are aching from sitting on your laptop for hours, your feet hurt from wearing your business heels and youre just frustrated.

When you open the door, you are instantly greeted by mingyu who peeks at you from the kitchen, puts away whatever he was cooking and runs to you like a little kid, the sweetest and brightest smile on his face as he greets you and takes your laptop bag from you.

"hey, beautiful," he says, pecking your lips sweetly, "I saw your location near home so I just drew you a warm bath. Go and get fresh and I'll set the table by then." You smile sappily, feeling all your tension lift off your shoulders by the thought of a nice warm bath.

You strip out of your clothes once you reach bathroom and sink into the warm water in the bath tub, sighing in relief. The water helps the soreness in your muscles and you feel like you could sleep then and there if not for your stomach making protest noises from hunger. You lazily lather up some soap on your hands and legs and wash up before getting out of the tub and drying yourself up with the warm towel which you could bet was freshly out of the drier. You sigh dreamily, whatever good deeds did you commit to get a perfect husband like mingyu.

You pull over one of Mingyu's oversized tee's and slip on a pair of pajama shorts, heading towards the dining when the aroma of the food mingyu prepared. You settled on the dining table where mingyu was just serving you a plate of something new he made. He'd been trying to learn to make new cuisines from recipes he'd see online and have you taste them and they are always amazing.

"it's something greek! I saw a recipe and i know you like eggplants so i wanted to make it for you!" He told you and you chuckled. You took a bite of the creamy casserole-like dish, a satisfied moan immediately leaving your lips when the rich flavours reached your tastebuds. "Do you like it? Do you like it?"

You giggled at your man's excitement, "oh, I love it! So good, it feels like home!" Mingyu giggled and pecked your forehead before sitting beside you with his own plate. You two engage in mundane talks about your day and you tell mingyu about the horrible day you had at work and how he's already made you feel so much better about it.

"I never liked James anyways, your previous boss was better. Sad that she had to retire," mingyu comments. He then grins naughtily, nudgi g your feet with his own, "also, in case you are not too tired, I can make you happier~."

"really? I'd love me some fun dessert," you say winking.

Once you two were done eating and cleaning the table and loading the dishwasher, he picked you up in his arms, bridal style, and took you to your bed, throwing you on the soft sheets before kissing you like no tomorrow. You laugh into the kiss out of pure joy of how excited your husband gets when you are like this.

He pulls over his tshirt, revealing his hot abs and gorgeous body and pulls down his sweatpants, leaving him in his black CK boxers which did nothing to hide the big size of his hardened cock. You reached out to grab it, but mingyu held your wrist. "Uh-uh, beautiful, tonight is 'bout you."

He pushed your shoulders till you are laying flat against the bed and push your tshirt up to reveal your boobs. He kisses down the sensitive soft skin of your chest, nibbling and marking the flesh near your areolas and sucking on your nipples when you tangled your fingers in his shirt black hair. He moved south, kissing your bloated tummy (thanks to the amazing food your husband makes for you) and down your navel.

He takes the waist band of your shorts in his teeth and effortlessly pulls them off your legs, not having to deal with your underwear since you didn't wear any after your shower. Mingyu would tease you about it any other day but right now he's just too hungry to tast you to care about it.

He kissed down your thighs, bruising the delicate skin with his teeth. As desperate he was for your pussy, he never compromises on foreplay. When he was satisfied with his artwork on your thighs, he finally moved his mouth to your cunt, licking a stripe, his tongue dipping under your outer labia, moaning at the taste. Nothing he would ever cook could compare to the heaven that hid between your legs.

He used his hands to spread your legs wider and hooking then over his shoulders for support. He lapped at your juices like a starved dog, continuously praising you for getting so wet and how great you tasted. He entered his middle and ring finger, palm up in your cunt, thrusting in and out and curling them at the spongy part which made your thighs shakez while he got down on sucking on your clitoris, determined to make you cum before he could fuck you.

You cum surprisingly cum quicker than usual, your thighs shaking and hips stuttering over mingyu's face. You whined when mingyu put his tongue over your sensitive clit again. "Baby, p-please, fuck me already. I need you dick."

"I'll give you what you need baby, but I want to make you cum once more before that."

"ah! I'd love that, but I'll actually fall asleep after another orgasm, and I need that one to be from your dick." You whine. As much as you enjoy letting mingyu pull orgasm after orgasm from you before he even got his cock in you, you were too tired today. And as much mingyu loves seeing you cum over and over on his tongue and fingers, he doesn't want to tire you out too much. It's still Wednesday, and you need to go to work tomorrow, and he'd hate to have you get insufficient rest.

So he reluctantly pulls away from your beautiful pussy and takes off his boxers, his dick springing up against his hard abs. As often as you have seen your husband's penis, it never gets tiring to such over that beautiful length and thick girth. You reach your hand to stroke him a little, spreading his already leaking precum throughout the length.

He grabs your hips, slotting his cock head against your entrance and slowly thrusting in. You moan as the pleasurable sting of the stretch from his dick clouds up your mind. Mingyu stays inside for a second, leaning down over your body to kiss you. He starts fucking you, a little slow at first till you catch up with him, before putting into your hips like an animal in heat.

His loud groans matches your moans, your manicured nails sure to leave back scratches all over your back as you grip him tightly for support. Mingyu's hands venture back to grab your ass because he just can't help it and grips it tightly enough to bruise them with his finger prints.

You both reach your orgasm almost simultaneously, him helping you by rubbing your little clit. You cum first, breathing heavily as the dopamine release feel fluid in your veins. Mingyu cums soon after, your walls spasming around him post-orgasm stimulating him just the right amount to paint your insides white. The creamy seme leaks as he exits you gently.

He kisses your face gently, leaving to get a wash cloth. He cleans between your legs up with the warm and wet towel before getting another softer towel to dry it. You are already asleep by the time he comes back. He pulls down your tshirt to cover a decent amount of you and slides into the bed beside you, pulling the covers over you as he pulls you close for cuddles. You wake up momentarily to adjust yourself closer to him, wishing him a good night before you both fall asleep, happy and comfortable in each other's arms.

Now stop imagining cuz ain't no mingyu becoming our cute little house-husband

[deviouz]

jason todd is a thick thigh and chubby tummy lover. i will not be accepting any criticism

[astermath]

“So? Whatever.”

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader 

summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.

word count: 2K

♡ LANDING PAGE♡

notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3

(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)

To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?

“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day. 

He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It’s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.

“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?

“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.

“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually. 

“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.

“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.

Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”

“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm. 

“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...

The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass. 

You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them. 

“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.

“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.

“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.

“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”

You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”

“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.

You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.

He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.

“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy. 

“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.

“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself. 

“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though. 

“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”

He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it. 

“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”

“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him. 

Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys. 

Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.

You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed. 

He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.

But boy did it make his heart flutter. 

[hearteyesfor17]

clingy Lapis sounds sooooo nice rn <3

imagine you're the one who created him. you couldn't help but make him 100% dedicated to you. and the thing is, he doesn't destroy you or want to be free. let's just say, he likes you a lot. so much so that 17 is always trailing behind you like some lost puppy. not that you mind, right ? also, he gets jealous when you interact with anyone. you're chatting with Bulma ? he's glaring daggers at her. learning to meditate with Piccolo ? please. 17 can find better ways to clear your mind. Goku wants to train with you ? decline, because Lapis will either take your place or drag you away. he doesn't trust anyone's hands on you, nor does he want you hurt. what a sweetheart, no ?

well, that is until your perfectly created cyborg, the ultimate android, has you crying out and begging while he pounds you from behind. he's just so good at filling you up and helping all your little aches. told you he can find other ways to clear your mind. he's addicted to you, your sounds, the way you clench, writhe, and claw. you're perfect in his eyes and you're all his. he wants to please you so that you'll never think about looking in another's direction again. you wanted this, didn't you ? a robot to serve and help you with everything ? to be dedicated to just you ? well, the cyborg cannot help but find any chance to bend you over and fuck you. he's fascinated by the way you cream on his cock. the way you twitch and arch when you orgasm. oh, and did I mention his stamina is unlimited ? he's going to go for hours and hours if he desires so. luckily, your android will be there to carry you around when your legs are all wobbly. and of course, he's respectful and will stop if you tell him to. again, he only wants your praise and affection, not for you to be upset with him. so why don't you tell him ? next time he's buried deep into your guts, whimpering into your neck about how you're his favorite being of all of the universes, tell him what a perfect android he is. ♡

[tetraharmonic]

Imagine a fic where Romeo guides someone through skincare. They don't really know how to take care of themselves, or they neglected to do it, so now they look at the shelves in the convenience store, confused out their mind. For a moment, they think about giving up, returning to their depression slump. Or, to what would be Romeo's horror later if he found out, they'd just go back to using a generic soap bar on their face. Romeo can't let that happen. So he sits them down, seeing how much they're genuinely trying, and can't help but feel a bit sympathetic. He walks them through toners and moisturizers and serums, sharing lavish face masks and perfumes, before gifting them all sorts of nice hot oil treatments, clays, and a jade roller. Of course, seeing the pile, they have no idea what to do, and get overwhelmed. Not to worry, Romeo has decided they're now his latest LOL. He applies it all himself, suprised to find so much patience in him, pulling their head back into his knees as they sit on the floor, and him in his nice seat, massaging hair treatments in and working out knots. He knows the ache, the post depression everything shower, the gender panic when giving yourself the proper care you deserve is seen as overly feminine, but also the struggle of not quite wanting to he feminine either. Wanting to just be. If they ask him to teach them how to do makeup, he'll teach them. Whether it's to present as feminine, or sharpen their features to present as masculine, all while reminding them that this isn't exclusive to one or the other. He teaches them to draw hearts in the smears of moisturizer with their thumbs in the mirror, so they never question whether or not they have the right to care for themself the way they should. That Romeo insists they deserve, but swear he doesn't give a damn. They feel so much better too. Sometimes they pretend to be lost to talk more. It's been a while since they've been heard. They ask "why the abbreviation?" Doesn't he know that LOL stands for laughing out loud?

He shakes his head. His tone isn't romantic, merely to the point, like stating a truth. An observation. "Nonono, belli*. Labor of Love."

* probably improper use of Italian. Someone help, what's the gender neutral way to say beautiful, I'm dying here.

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience – Epilogue (Part 11.2)

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 11th snippet / epilogue, part 2. Adar and Celebrimbor consummate their marriage, aka, make love to one another.

Here be smut! This is at least M rated people. Please mind the rating!

This is it, the Good Stuff(TM)! Again, this is smut, but there is also a lot of fluff and sappiness mixed in here. It's also the final bit for the 'main story' of this AU – though, who knows, maybe I’ll pick it up again for some interludes or some glimpses into everyday married life for those two in the future, though likely at a much slower pace than this one. Thank you, again, to everyone who has joined me on this journey. I appreciate all of you and your support means the world to me. (And also, hopefully, I’ll see you guys in the notes for any future fics of those two I might write. Because I still have a couple ideas and WIPs to work on.) Enjoy, and once again, Thank You! <3 <3 <3

Once they had separated again, Adar appeared much more confident. He used only his right hand as he reached down, grabbed the hem of his tunic, and then began to pull it over his head.

As his long hair began to tangle in the garment, Celebrimbor reached forward and helped him out of it. Like his own tunic and Adar’s armor, they let it drop to the ground, forgotten.

The uruk’s chest was littered with scars as well; burn marks and the remains of old wounds that the elf could not identify. Perhaps, Adar would be willing to tell him about each of them one day.

"You are beautiful," escaped the smith without his permission, but he couldn’t regret the words. Even as Adar stared incredulously at him. "I mean it. I look at you and see beauty."

Celebrimbor wanted to make himself clear. "Maybe not in the typical elven way, but I can see you have survived great strain and terrible hardship. I do not mind the scars. They are a part of you, and I love you."

He knew he was being awfully emotional about all this, but- he had to speak these words. He didn’t want to leave any doubt about what he felt for the other, or how he saw him.

The uruk closed his arms around the elf and brought the two of them together in another embrace. He kissed Celebrimbor’s temple, his cheek, his jaw, and then whispered against his lips. "It has been a very long time since I have been called ‘beautiful‘. And even longer, still, since I believed it. But I believe you."

A pause, a breath. "How have I gotten so lucky? The most decent, the most kindhearted of all elves, and I get to call you my own. You, the one who was willing to see me and my children as more than just Morgoth’s creations."

"You are more than Morgoth’s creation," Celebrimbor said with conviction. "And if you have gotten lucky, so have I."

He dared Adar to disagree with his words by frowning just the slightest bit, until the uruk laughed and pulled him close again. They kissed once more. As Adar let his hands roam, so did Celebrimbor.

Adar’s body certainly was not like an elf’s, but this was not a detriment in the smith’s opinion. He enjoyed letting his hands move over the scars, felt shapes beneath his fingertips whose textures felt new and unique and exciting to him.

Likewise, his husband seemed unable to let his own hands rest either; they moved over the expanse of Celebrimbor’s back and between his shoulder blades, to his arms, up to his neck and then down to his pecs, which the uruk squeezed. The elf gasped into their kiss as a result, and when Adar made to draw back, he caught the uruk's fingers to press them onto his chest again and moaned into the other’s mouth at the resulting pressure.

They soon shed the rest of their clothing, stepping out of their shoes and boots as well as their breeches. Adar’s mouth wandered from Celebrimbor’s mouth to his jaw, his ear, and then his neck.

He was soft with his kisses, mindful of the bruising, until the elf drew his head closer with his hand and groaned as the other sucked his own bruise into the hollow of his throat. 

Celebrimbor didn’t care in the least whether or not someone else would see it, come morning.

Moving against one another sent sparks through the elf’s body now that they were completely bare, and he felt heat rise up his body when he felt how aroused Adar was already.

The uruk grabbed his behind and drew them against each other fully. Both groaned at the contact.

"Celebrimbor-" Adar began. He already sounded breathless.

"Tyelpe," the smith replied, quickly, before Adar could finish his sentence. At the other’s questioning look, Celebrimbor drew him forward and kissed him, before he repeated. "Call me Tyelpe. It’s short for-"

"Telperinquar," Adar finished. He sounded reverent as he said it. Celebrimbor felt himself shiver at the sound of his name on Adar’s tongue. He nodded to confirm it.

"...Tyelpe," Adar repeated the name as if tasting it. In turn, Celebrimbor moved forward as if to lick it out of his mouth. The kiss left them both breathless and flushed.

"...let us move over to your bed," the uruk suggested, quietly, and the elf let himself be walked over without hesitation. Instead, he tried to catch Adar’s lips again. It was like he had gotten addicted to them – their warmth, their softness, the pressure. He couldn’t stop seeking them out.

The uruk was careful as he helped his husband lay down and then moved on top of him. He caught Celebrimbor’s eye as he kept himself suspended above the elf, and only laid down when Celebrimbor stretched out his arms and beckoned him to do so.

Soon, they were moving against one other, rubbing skin against skin as they kissed, hands restless on each other’s bodies.

"What do you want to do?" Adar asked, once they managed to break their kiss for a moment. A fine strand of spit hung between their mouths and neither of them was willing to move far away from the other.

"Whatever you want to do," Celebrimbor replied. To make himself perfectly clear, he untangled his legs from Adar’s and loosely wrapped them around the uruk’s hips, who groaned deeply and thrust down against the elf in response. "If you’d let me, I’d want all of you."

His hips moved up into Adar’s thrusts all of their own. Both of them moaned at the feeling of them sliding against one another.

They could barely control themselves, and Adar eventually had to use his hand to grab Celebrimbor’s hip and pin it to the bed – though gently – so they would not finish too soon.

"Do you have any oil?" He sounded hopeful, even if he looked a bit skeptical.

His expression changed to one of surprise when Celebrimbor reached across and over the side of the bed, only to produce a small bottle, which he pressed into Adar’s hand. The smith felt rather proud of himself in that moment.

The uruk raised his eyebrows. "Do you always happen to have some spare oil nearby, or…" He suddenly narrowed his eyes, though it was clearly playful. "Did you hope this would happen?"

The elf grew just the slightest bit sheepish and fluttered his eyelashes at the uruk. "What can I say? If the the last two days have taught me anything, it is to always be prepared – and not let anything go to waste by holding back."

Adar looked at Celebrimbor with wide eyes for a moment, and then he smirked and shook his head, before he gave his husband another peck on the lips. "My dear, you are full of surprises. I hadn’t expected that you’d be quite so bold in this."

A pause. "I think I like it."

The uruk was careful as he prepared his husband; he took the time to warm the oil, helped Celebrimbor place a pillow underneath his hips and placed one of the smith’s legs over his shoulder. Before he touched the elf, he kissed the side of his knee and leant over him to have a good look at his face.

"Are you still certain?"

The smith smiled brightly at the question, and nodded. "Yes," he took a shuddering breath. "A bit nervous though, I’ll admit. I haven’t done this in a long time."

The uruk leant down to press his lips to Celebrimbor’s forehead, then kissed him deeply. "Me neither. I promise I’ll go slow."

The elf nodded, and held onto the side of the uruk’s face and his upper arm. "I know."

And indeed, Adar took his time. Not only did he stretch his husband, but he also stroked him as he knelt before the elf, twin sensations that kept Celebrimbor relaxed and in a state of near perpetual pleasure.

The elf languished in his position and how it allowed him to watch his husband while the other worked. There was a look of concentration on Adar’s face while he alternated between focusing on his tasks and Celebrimbor’s face, as if to make sure the other was truly enjoying this.

Celebrimbor smiled and made no attempt to hide his reactions; he looked at Adar with hooded eyelids and his mouth half-open, spilling sighs and gasps whenever the other touched him in a particularly pleasant way.

He could tell the uruk was slowly but surely becoming more impatient, though he was good at hiding it. He hadn’t once touched himself, so Celebrimbor stretched out a hand and tried to motion the other to come closer, "Let me do something for you, too."

Adar smiled gently, and used one hand to stroke the space between Celebrimbor’s leg and his lower stomach for a bit. "You don’t have to do anything but lie back. I’ll take care of you tonight."

"Next time, then," the elf insisted cheekily, and then moaned and arched his back when Adar found that sensitive spot inside him.

Whether Celebrimbor’s reaction had been the final straw to entice his husband, or whether he simply deemed him ready, the elf would never know, but Adar soon finished his preparations and began to arrange the elf’s body to his liking.

Legs wrapped high around Adar’s upper body, ankles crossed at the back, the elf let his lower body be hoisted up by an arm around his hip while Adar reached down to line himself up to Celebrimbor’s entrance.

The elf cupped his husband’s cheeks once more, stroking gentle fingers along the scars there. Their faces were so very close. Adar’s eyes were almost black with how dilated his pupils were by that point. He was a sight to behold, with sweat beading on his forehead and strands of his hair stuck to his skin.

And yet, his expression remained so gentle, so attentive.

"May I?" the uruk asked. Celebrimbor nodded, not quite sure if he’d be able to manage any words.

They both sighed and pressed close when Adar began to sink into Celebrimbor’s body. This was not just warmth, but heat that spread through him now.

There was no pain, only a stretch that felt wonderfully intimate, and Adar who seemed to fight his own pleasure to keep his eyes on Celebrimbor, to make sure he was alright.

Trembling with how good he felt, the smith let himself spill whatever words came to him. "You feel wonderful," he said. It was true. "You’re being so gentle with me, so careful, nobody has touched me with such reverence."

"I wish you could see yourself right now. I could look upon you all day. Want to-" his breath hitched and he moaned once more as Adar finally sank in to the hilt and crowded close, rubbing their noses against each other as the uruk tried to catch his breath. "Want to sketch you like this, so you can see how radiant you are-"

With a loud groan, the uruk brought their lips together. The kiss was deeper, more urgent now, it almost felt as if he wanted to drink Celebrimbor down. He wrapped his hands around the elf’s shoulders and behind is head.

They both were breathless when they broke apart.

"Can I-?"

"Yes, please, move-" Adar laughed, very softly, at Celebrimbor’s eagerness, and pecked his lips before he began to follow his husband’s request.

The friction felt downright otherworldly, and the pleasure was only heightened because the elf got to experience his husband’s as well. They moved with each other and quickly found a rhythm that worked for them as they slowly built up the pace.

Still, Adar seemed to hold back. "I’m alright, I feel good- you can let go. I want you to. Please," the elf coaxed the other. It was clear the uruk was enjoying this, with the way every other breath turned into a deep groan and how he couldn’t quite keep his eyes open.

Adar needed a moment to find his words, and moaned when he found a good angle on his next thrust before he answered. "I’m- quite strong-"

"I know," Celebrimbor remembered Adar’s battle prowess. He curled himself up and brought their foreheads together as he clenched down onto the uruk. "I want to feel it. I don’t care about bruising – you won’t hurt me. I know you won’t. I trust you."

This time, it didn’t take long to convince the other, and the smith soon held onto Adar with all his limbs and pressed his face into his neck as his voice rose in pleasure.

Adar hadn’t lied when he said he was strong; the way he snapped his hips down now was intense, but good. He managed to hit every single sensitive spot Celebrimbor had and still, nothing he did hurt, there was only pressure, and bliss.

"It’s good, it’s so good-" the elf reassured the other, encouraged him. "Please, don’t stop-"

They both were reaching for their completion now, desperate in how they scrambled against one another. Celebrimbor smeared spit onto Adar’s cheek as he attempted to speak, could feel the groans – no, growls – the uruk let out against the junction of his neck and shoulder, the way he mouthed at the skin.

"I’m close-" Adar warned through clenched teeth, before he brought his and Celebrimbor’s eyes into alignment again, both their hands around one another’s shoulders and on their cheeks now. "You feel so good, I’m so close-"

"I am too," Celebrimbor replied, breathless, eager, near overcome. "Please, you can-"

"Come for me," Adar asked him instead, and the elf was powerless to do anything but comply with a long moan of Adar���s name. Judging by the way Adar thrust down with all his strength and then shouted, loudly, he was quick to follow.

They were both shaking as pleasure washed over them, their hands slipped on sweat-covered skin, but then renewed their grip and held onto one another.

Celebrimbor couldn’t speak for himself, but Adar was quite the sight. His face was completely open now, and there was no strain, only the euphoria of release and underneath, the love he held for his husband, clear as day.

What a gift, the elf thought, that he got to see the other so unguarded and so content. Would get to see him like this, again and again.

The two husbands collapsed onto the bed in the aftermath. Adar was pressing Celebrimbor into the bed with his own weight, whereas the elf cushioned the uruk’s body with his own. Their grip on one another loosened as they caught their breath, but they did not fully let each other go.

Celebrimbor continued to rest his legs over his husband’s back and stroked fingers up and down between his shoulder blades. When Adar shivered and grew restless at the light touches, the elf moved his fingers into Adar’s hair instead, slowly carding through the soft strands and scratching his scalp.

Adar, too, seemed unwilling to move. His head was tucked under Celebrimbor’s chin where his breath fanned out over the elf’s collarbones. His right hand stroked a thumb up and down Celebrimbor’s hip, whereas his left one – the one usually in his gauntlet – sought of Celebrimbor’s free hand and linked their fingers together.

It was the elf who brought their hands to his lips for another kiss. Adar sighed in response, and rubbed in nose into Celebrimbor’s skin when the elf kissed the top of his head next.

They should probably move and get cleaned up, sooner or later, but for now, Celebrimbor just wanted to enjoy this moment.

He smiled, happy and exhausted, when Adar lifted his head. The uruk, too, looked like he’d soon fall asleep. Which was probably a good thing – both of them still needed to recover from the previous weeks.

As Celebrimbor stroked the back of his hand across Adar’s cheek, the other smiled back at him.

"I love you, Tyelpe," he said. Celebrimbor hadn’t ever seen him look more at ease, more happy, than in this moment.

His own resulting smile felt so wide the elf wasn’t sure how it could still fit his own face.

"I love you too, Adar. My husband."

The uruk reached over and brought their lips together once again. "Indeed. My husband."

[necrotic-nephilim]

in lieu of having posted any writing/headcanons/asks in the past few days because i have been *so* busy and unable to do anything fandom-related which is terrible and evil, i have a poll out of morbid curiosity and self-indulgence. i've been meaning to ramble here about how i feel about DC's lack fo Deaf representation and which Batfam members i would personally make Deaf, but i am mildly curious about the larger opinion and now i will subject you all to the question, i would love to hear thoughts/opinions/headcanons on any specific choices. (would love d/Deaf/HoH opinions esp but i'm mostly expecting this to reach the hearing crowd, so opinions from hearing ppl are ones i'm very curious about. if you've never given it thought before you are going to now or else /lh)

[airborneice]

sooo two days late here's my thing for @sketchbookweek Day 2 - Past/Future / Hilda

uhh this one is a fic, unfortunately for everyone. the fic part is. under the cut. I'm gonna go hide in my fridge now byeee

In which Hilda reflects on how life has changed since she left the wilderness.

———

The wilderness never seemed to change, when Hilda returned there. Sure, new plants sprung up and new creatures made their homes there, it was one mountain short and a few woodland paths had become overgrown in her absence (which made trekking through them more fun, actually), but everything that mattered was still there.

The trees cast dappled patterns on the ground the way she remembered as she made her way underneath them. The grass felt the same underfoot, just like when she’d walked these paths as a child, even after all these years. There was the same gentle breeze rustling her jacket and catching in her hair, the same sense of peace that settled in her soul, that told her she was back where she belonged.

It was all just as it had been the day she left. Well, except for one thing - 

“You’re it!”

Hilda jumped as something small and pink crashed into the back of her leg, slightly knocking her off-balance. Before she could react, her little sister bounded away from her, taking off up the forest path.

“Wha - hey!” Hilda called after her with mock-indignation, while Mattie ran further up the trail, giggling gleefully.

“You can’t catch meeee!”

Hilda grinned. “Oh, it’s on,” she said, getting ready to break into a run. Before she could move, she heard Mum’s voice ring out behind her.

“Hilda, just don’t go too far, okay?” She called, making Hilda turn her head. She and Kaisa were standing at a fork in the path several yards back, but in the quiet of the forest, her voice carried easily. “We’re going to find somewhere to set up the picnic.”

Beside her, Kaisa shifted the picnic basket she was carrying in her arms, watching Mattie ping-pong around the woods with an amused expression.

“You know you’re about to be outrun by a six-year-old,” she pointed out helpfully.

Hilda stuck her tongue out at her.

“Yeah, we won’t go too far,” she called back to Mum, turning on her heel and locking eyes with the six-year-old in question.

Mattie, who seemed to have come to a stop while the others were talking, shrieked in delight and took off running. Hilda shook her head fondly. Maybe being in the wilderness really was doing some good for her. They hadn’t been able to play like this back at home. 

“Hey, wait up!” She called, running after her.

Mattie pivoted on her toe and fixed her with a grin.

“Nope!”

Hilda wasn’t sure what else she had been expecting, really.

She ran after her at a leisurely pace - making sure to stay just slow enough to let Mattie get a decent lead - watching as the girl ducked in and out of bushes and getting the odd spike in heart-rate as she tripped over a tree root and righted herself at the last second, only to take off again. She’d gotten quite far ahead now, to the point she was barely visible through the expanse of trees. It wasn’t as if Hilda had to worry about losing her, anyway, not with her high-pitched giggles carrying through the trees like some kind of sonar. That child couldn’t be stealthy to save her life.

Until Mattie ducked out of sight, and the laughter stopped.

Hilda came to a stop for a moment, feeling the silence grow uncomfortably heavy.

“Mattie?” She called out, to no reply. 

Cautiously, Hilda picked up the pace, pushing past the now thinning-out trees. She knew from experience that there was nothing dangerous - or at least, nothing that dangerous - out here, but this felt off, to say the least. Laughter and shouting she could deal with, but as far as she could remember, “quiet” was not a word that ever appeared next to Mattie in a sentence.

Turning the corner though, she could suddenly see why. Instinctively Hilda slowed to a halt.

Of course. Of course it was here.

Up ahead of her, where the trees thinned out, was the Northern Elf County. And just behind it, even more tattered and broken than she remembered, lay her old house.

The wilderness had almost fully reclaimed it now. Moss and lichen covered every inch of the decaying boards, the remaining wreckage of pipes and wood sunken into the earth. Weeds had sprung up around it, including a blue nettle which had woven itself through the debris like a fine thread. If it hadn’t been hers, she might not have known it used to be a house at all.

Just in front of it stood the small form of her sister, seemingly locked in place. Hilda watched as she stood there a moment, not moving an inch. Then, slowly, Mattie turned her head to look back at her, a slightly fearful look in her eyes.

“Oh - oh,” Hilda hastily closed the gap between them, putting an arm around her sister, which the child promptly latched onto. “Hey, it’s okay!” She said quickly. “It’s not scary.” She smiled at her reassuringly, knowing Mattie wouldn’t fear it if she didn’t. “This is just my old house.”

Still clutching her sleeve, Mattie blinked, the frightened look in her eyes melting into something resembling curiosity. She looked between Hilda and the ruins, a tiny crease forming on her brow. Then - 

“It’s quite small,” she said quietly.

Hilda snorted.

“It was bigger when I lived in it,” she replied, dropping down roughly onto the grass. Though she still looked unsure, Mattie followed suit, crossing her legs under herself while maintaining a grip on her sister’s arm.

“It used to be a little cabin,” Hilda explained. “Our great-grandad built it. It’s where me and Mum lived before we moved to Trolberg.”

“…Oh,” Mattie replied, looking again at the heap. Her grip on the sleeve had relaxed, and Hilda exhaled in relief. It was a good sign Mattie was speaking a bit more, even if a little confused-sounding. Now she thought of it, Hilda wasn’t entirely sure she’d talked about her old life to her little sister before. It had all been over long before she had been born, after all.

Beside her, Mattie tilted back on the grass, staring at the ruins as if trying to picture them as something other than wreckage and moss. But she looked more curious than confused now.

“Did you like it there?” She asked.

Hilda followed her sister’s eye-line to the wreckage, and sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

She sat back on her hands, the grass soft under her fingers, and lifted her gaze to the horizon that was so achingly familiar.

“We always had the best view of the woff-migration,” she said, noticing with a smile how her sister perked up immediately (and making a small mental note to find a good spot for woff-watching later). “And it was always so peaceful out here. It felt like it was just me and Mum and Twig in the whole world.”

“Why did you leave then?”

“Oh, um,” Hilda paused for a moment, wondering if this was straying into too-scary-for-a-six-year-old territory. “Well…” she hazarded, “... a giant kind of trod on our house. Accidentally,” she said. “It was sort of my fault, I was trying to help him find someone - that sort of thing doesn’t happen anymore, though,” she added quickly, seeing her sister’s eyes had gone wide.

To her relief though, her words didn’t seem to have the impact she’d feared. After a moment Mattie just hummed thoughtfully, turning back to the cabin remains.

“That’s sad,” she said quietly.

Hilda hummed softly, watching the spot on the horizon that had once been hidden behind the cabin roof.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Yeah, I was pretty sad about it for a while.”

A stray breeze ruffled the grass around them, making the blue nettle sway. If she squinted she could almost still see what it had looked like before, the patches of warm amber light that shone from the windows at night and the spot where Twig would curl up by the fire. They were probably sitting right where she’d met a troll for the first time.

Beside her, Mattie shifted slightly, bringing her swiftly back to reality.

“Oh, but  - I mean - it wasn’t all bad,” Hilda added quickly, wondering if this might also be a bit much for a six-year-old. “I still got to go on adventures. And I got to meet Frida and David, and Tontu and..”

Hilda trailed off, lost in thought. Now she thought about it, so much of the life she knew now had only come after they moved.

In the wilderness it had just been her and Mum and Twig, and she had never wanted - never even contemplated - anything more. But from there her family had only grown. First with Alfur, then Tontu and…then Kaisa, and sometime later down the line, Mattie too. Somehow, despite spending her life bringing home all manner of strange creatures to join the household, that had been the biggest surprise. Not just the slightly scary witch from the library coming to live with them (which, yeah, to begin with had felt kind of weird), but how much things had changed with her.

It had taken a while, of missing the wilderness and feeling awkward about all the changes going on, but before long she’d had to admit that life was better with this new family in it.

Little moments were coming back to her, as she sat there in the grass in the afternoon sun - Mattie had gotten bored and got up to investigate the elf village by this point, tip-toeing around the tiny houses with the utmost care - not moments from her life in the cabin, but what had come since. What couldn’t have been if they’d stayed.

…Struggling through homework at the kitchen table last thing on a Sunday night with Kaisa (in theory helping but usually just joining her in staring at her textbook in despair). Forlornly muttering something along the lines of not being smart enough for this, only for Kaisa to take her head out of her hands to look at her with a glare that could bore through steel.

“Hildie. I studied advanced transmutation magic to the nineteenth level and I have never in my life seen something as fucking complicated as this,” she deadpanned, while Hilda subsided into giggles. “Seriously. I’m going to hex your maths teacher.”

…Sometime after they had returned from the Fairy Isle, standing at the doorway of the flat, open-mouthed, watching as Mum reached for a book off the high shelf with her feet not quite touching the floor. Opening her mouth to call out in excitement before feeling a gentle tap on her shoulder.

“You know she’ll only worry that other people might see,” Kaisa whispered, having somehow silently appeared beside her. Kaisa turned her gaze back to Mum, a loving look in her eyes, and Hilda had the distinct impression that she hadn’t been the first to notice.

“Let’s just let her have this, for now.”

…A year before that, hovering uncertainly by her parents' bedroom door, the morning after they had left for the hospital, excited and a bit scared and a well of emotions stirring in her chest. Mum and Kaisa calling her in with hushed voices and her climbing onto the bed in the early morning sun, cuddling up to them and the bundle in their arms and being assured that everything was fine, Mum was fine, and “Why don’t you say hello?” and… everything stopping as she laid eyes on her sister for the very first time. 

Coming back to the present moment, Hilda watched as her now more grown sister cautiously approached the blue nettle and very gently ran a finger over its petals. How strange that something beautiful could grow out of so much loss.

After a moment of inspecting the nettle, Mattie turned back to Hilda and pointed at it excitedly.

“Hildie! There’s a blue nettle!” She called.

“Oh wow, really?” Hilda called back in feigned surprise. “Is that good?”

“Yep!” Seemingly satisfied with what she’d found, Mattie started making her way back towards her, carefully dodging the elf houses as she went.

“Tildy says they’re good for magic, but I didn’t want to take it because…” She paused as she stepped over the final elf house, teetering a little as she cleared it. “...Because there’s only one and the elves might like it being there.”

Briefly Hilda remembered the last time she had tried to take a plant from an elf settlement without permission, and had to agree.

“Yeah, I think that was a nice thing to do,” she told her. Mattie smiled, then plonked herself down by Hilda’s side again.

“So…” Hilda said, once her sister was settled. She nodded her head towards the ruins. “Not scary?”

“Nope, not scary,” Mattie replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “I bet it was nice there. Blue nettles only grow in nice places.” She was quiet for a moment, then - 

Hilda felt the familiar weight of her sister leaning into her arm.

“Sorry your house got stepped on, Hildie” Mattie said softly. “ ’Specially after you were nice to the giant. It’s not fair.”

“Aw, Mattie,” Hilda smiled, wrapping an arm around her little sister and pulling her to her side. Mattie snuggled in, contentedly burying her cheek in Hilda’s jacket. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

She turned to look at the girl beside her, all bright eyes and a curious smile. It was hard to believe she’d had a life before where she wasn’t in it.

“You know…”

Hilda lifted her gaze, laying eyes on her old house and, for the first time, feeling something other than mourning. Something much warmer and kinder, and unshakingly certain.

“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

[solifloris]

THE THOUGHT I OFFER BEFORE I GO TO BED IS guys zayne is the type to let you just fall into his arms and bury your head into his chest no questions asked, and you don't need to speak, he's just there rubbing your back silently and letting you have a moment and and and,

i'm not the only one thinking this right

[shalomniscient]

i promise i’m working on the rahu fic but HEAR ME OUT: YUKONG X READER PACIFIC RIM AU

jaded ex-ace pilot yukong who lost her drift partner, caiyi, and has never set foot in a jaeger since. she’s content to live out her days of retirement until an abomination (kaiju) wrecks her neighbourhood, an attack in which she barely escapes alive alongside her daughter. some friends of her aren’t as lucky. the kaiju destroys two other jaegers before it’s finally put down by a jaeger barely clinging to life. they name the kaiju calamitas, for the calamity it inflicted. it is fitting.

the situation is terrible. bad enough, that the general of the defense corps comes to see her personally. general jing yuan bows to her on his knees, and begs for her return. she wants to say no—how could she ever drift with anyone else—but in the end, her weakness is her daughter. in that moment of righteous fury, qingni looked like the stunning image of her mother.

so she goes. she follows jing yuan in his helicopter as they make their way to the base. it has hardly changed over the years, a dome made of iron and steel, sweat and blood. there are ghosts in every corner here, nestled so closely amongst the living they are almost indistinguishable. a part of her naively hopes that she might turn a corridor and see a familiar head of brown hair and ears.

they go through many candidates. from rookies to seasoned pilots, no one could drift alongside the former ace. the words are on the tip of her tongue—i told you so. but jing yuan gives her a placating smile, and says, just one more.

the candidate who walks in is you. you’re young, maybe qingni’s age, but there’s a hauntedness in your eyes that yukong understands.

jing yuan does the honours of listing your accomplishments. five confirmed kills, and two assists. not bad, for someone as young as you. but then, he mentions what yukong had already guessed.

it was you, that day, who took down calamitas. you, in that half-broken jaeger, your partner dead in their seat, but still connected to you within the drift. you, who piloted a jaeger on your own to deliver the final killing blow. yukong comes to respect you as much as she mourns your loss.

as you strap into the drift chair, she can’t help but wonder. was this jing yuan’s grand strategy this time? to put two pilots who had lost their partners together, so that they could bond in their grief? drift in it? yukong almost wants to laugh—but she doesn’t.

not when less than five minutes later, the computer flashes with the words DRIFT COMPATIBILITY: 100%, NEURAL LINK STABLE. and not when she turns her head to face you, and feels her dead heart stir for the first time in years.

[winwintea]

i hate zhong chenle i hate zhong chenle i hate him i hate him so much much so so so so so much hate him and his smug face his dumb ass handsome looks maxxing aaah face like stfu stop posting stop exsting i think ill kms there can only be one of us in the world or ill explode pls die actually wait no dont die ill keep his pretty face locked up in the basement maybe idk i need his money too

[chippedshake]

(An expansion of a moment from this qprpbj fic I wrote a while ago)

Ponyboy smiles when he opens the door and finds Avery on the other side.

"Hi, Aves."

"Hey, grandpa," they say brightly, stepping inside.

Avery takes their backpack off and heads to the bathroom like they do every Tuesday. The twenty-minute walk from school to his house is just long enough for them to need to pee when they get there but not at school.

Ponyboy closes the door and sighs. It's nice to have company once in a while, even if it's just for lunch on Tuesdays. It gets lonely sometimes, when everyone's paired up with kids. Cathy got almost full custody over Katie and Johnny, so he's been alone for a while. Two-Bit and Marcia, Steve and Soda... They never stopped caring about Ponyboy and Darry, but they have other things to do. Married life to attend to.

Shame Darry's out today, he always likes to talk to Avery. Seems like they might be going down the accounting path, and Darry's good for advice on that.

"What's for lunch?" they ask, drying their hands on their skirt.

"I'm tryin' out this new recipe I found online..." Ponyboy takes the aluminum foil off of a pot and looks inside. "It's chili but it's supposed to have some sort of sweet twist? I dunno, the girl explaining it seemed really excited."

"Did you check the reviews like I told you to?"

"Yeah, they all said to use less beans or it would be too dry, so I did."

Avery gives him a wide grin. "Great."

Ponyboy carries the pot over while Avery sets the table.

"How's school been?"

He starts serving Avery a bowl.

"It's been fine. I did a math test today and I made some stupid mistakes — that's enough, thanks — and there was this one formula I forgot that woulda made everything a whole lot easier, but it went okay."

"That's nice." He sets his own bowl down in front of him.

"Actually, grandpa..." Avery trails off and avoids Ponyboy's eyes when he looks at them. "There’s something I need to talk to you about."

Ponyboy looks at them silently, urging them to go on, but they stay quiet.

"Go ahead."

"I'm aromantic. And asexual." They look at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "Aroace for short."

Ponyboy blinks at them once. Twice. "What?"

They give a dry laugh before answering. "Yeah, no, I didn't expect you to know. Aromantic means I don't feel romantic attraction. Asexual means I don't feel sexual attraction."

"Those are different?" The look Avery gives him is the same one he knows he used to give Sodapop whenever he asked him what the movie they just watched was about. "Sorry," he says, suddenly feeling meek.

"No, it's fine," they sigh, "They're kinda new labels, I guess. But yeah, they're different. Mostly people feel them together, but some people feel them differently. I just... don't."

Ponyboy had been about to eat a spoonful of chili, but freezes with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

"You... you can just... not feel it?"

On Ponyboy's first date with Cathy, they went out for dinner, and it felt kinda like going out with Two-Bit. Laughing too much and feeling like he was breaking some sort of rule all the time. It was nice, though.

He kissed her goodnight like he was supposed to, and it felt weird, but it was supposed to feel weird, right? They'd just started to go out.

Then they'd been dating for long enough for it to be expected for them to have sex and he didn't really want to, but Cathy wanted to and they were supposed to and it wasn't that bad, really. Just kinda boring.

"Yeah. I know it sounds really weird, and you might think I just haven't met the right person yet, but think about like, straight people. You know you don't like the same sex and no one ever doubts that, so this is like the same only I don’t like anyone. And it doesn't mean I can't have meaningful relationships or anything — I like my friends a lot, I love them a lot, and Charlie can be nice when he isn't being an annoying little brother, and there's even other types of relationships, like queer-platonic relationships, that aren't for me, but that other aroace people can want—"

"Calm down, Aves," Ponyboy says with a slight grin. He definitely know where they got that from. "I wasn't tryin' to make ya feel like I didn't accept you, I just... didn't totally get it."

"Oh." They're slightly out of breath. "Okay."

There are a couple moments of silence before they go on, "Well, in any case, I find sex and romance disgusting and when people tease me about that sorta thing it makes me uncomfortable. That's all I wanted to tell you."

They smile awkwardly.

Ponyboy feels himself deflate, but tries not to let it show.

"So then aromantic and— and asexual people find it disgusting?" So it's just me? It's just me that's broken, then.

"Oh, no, not at all. I just don’t like it, but there’s people who are fine with it. Some people even enjoy it."

"Oh." Not broken not broken not broken not broken "And can, uh... can anyone be– aromantic? And asexual?"

They look at him curiously, eyes flitting across his face to try and figure out what he's thinking. A flicker of understanding — and something like hope — crosses over their face before they settle back into a neutral expression.

"Well, yeah. Not anyone that feels sexual or romantic attraction, obviously, but, like, there's aroace people of all ages with all sorts of romantic and sexual histories and they're still aroace."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The rest of lunch is spent in near silence. Every so often one of them asks a question and the other answers, but conversation never lasts more than a couple seconds. The silence festers around them, Avery looking around uncomfortably, Ponyboy trying to force himself to be comfortable. Ponyboy's washing the dishes while Avery cleans up the table when there's the sound of a key jiggling and the door opens, showing Darry standing behind it. His face lights up when he catches sight of Avery.

"Aves! I didn't miss you!"

"Uncle Darry!" He sets his bag down next to him a takes his shoes off.

"How'd your math test go?"

Avery's face scruches up. "I forgot about the tangent squared identity and had to deduce it from the sine squared plus cosine squared one."

Darry makes a similar face and clicks his tongue as he walks over. "Did it go well besides that?"

"Yeah." He goes to ruffle their hair but remembers the last time they complained about it and grabs their shoulder instead.

Avery checks their phone. "Oh shii— shoot. I'm late. Gotta run back now."

They slip their shoes on quickly and run out the door.

"Have fun!" Darry calls, and a muffled "I'll try!" makes it back through the door.

Darry looks at the closed door for a second, easy smile on his lips. "Seems like slamming the door's genetic," he mutters.

He wanders into the kitchen and stops dead in his tracks. The water's running over dirty dishes but Ponyboy's leaned against the opposite counter, scrolling down something on his computer.

He has the same look on his face that he had a couple days after his seventeenth birthday, when he came up to Darry and told him quietly that he was older than Johnny would ever be.

"Pony?"

Ponyboy looks up, blinking quickly, not bothering to try and close the tab.

"Hmm?" His voice is unnaturally high-pitched. The eye contact only lasts a couple second before he looks away, back at the screen.

Darry walks towards him slowly. "Everything okay?" He turns the tap off when he passes by it.

Ponyboy's staring holes into his computer. He can't look away, can't look away from the words that've been there all along. The words he didn't see fifty-something years ago — oh, god, he can't even remember how long it's been.

The computer's being taken away from him.

"Pony." Ponyboy looks up to meet Darry's eyes. "What's wrong."

"The— the words are there." He's on the verge of tears and he knows that Darry can tell with the pitch of his words, but he can't control it.

"What words, Pony?"

"A— aromantic. And asexual. And queer-platonic." Darry just stares at him, clearly in as much confusion as Ponyboy was a couple minutes ago. "You don't have to wanna date people. And sex. And Johnny—"

Ponyboy doesn't finish the sentence.

"What about Johnny?" Darry seems confused, and Ponyboy realises that he thinks he's talking about his son.

"Cade."

"Oh."

"We weren't friends. I always knew we weren't friends, I knew it was different, because I ain't never felt that way again."

Darry blinks. "You're saying you're... gay?"

Ponyboy shakes his head and he can feel the tears tickle as they roll down his cheek but it would be wrong to brush them away.

"It don't— It don't gotta be like that. You don't gotta choose between bein' friends or datin', those aren't the only options. And it— it's real." He buries his face in his hands. Darry wraps his arms around him and Ponyboy stoops down to burrow his head in Darry's shoulder. "I know it— it doesn't change anythin', that we were the same thing, that we were— were queer-platonic even if the word didn't exist but I wish it did.

"I wish it did because then maybe it wouldn't be so—" He can't go on.

Maybe it's because there's no words to describe what it means to find out what something was when it's so far in the past you no longer remember, but remember remembering. Maybe it's because the pain he'd buried so deep he almost forgot about it comes back in full force. Maybe it's because he's sobbing so hard the words can't come out.

And that's how it ends.

It doesn't end with "stay gold" and it doesn't end with his English theme. It doesn't end with a roadtrip to the sea so they can spread his ashes and it doesn't end when he's twenty and unhappily married.

It ends sixty years too late. It ends with something as irrelevant as a pair of words. It ends with closure. Closure that comes far too late, but eventually comes.

[babsibabbles]

dog owner jj

thinking about jj becoming a dog owner because our golden retriever boy gives me 100% dog person vibes. jj would rescue a shelter dog or would take in the puppy he found one day hiding behind some containers in the backyard of the Wreck. “look at him, kie, look at that face. i couldn’t just leave him there!” because this dog reminded him too much of himself - abandoned, left to his own devices and with the knowledge that a human touch could hurt. “and you want to take care of him?” “yes, i will”. so jj does. he names him lucky, “because i was very lucky to find you.” lucky was a little anxious at first when jj approached him but patience (and treats) helped and lucky warmed up to jj. now it’s all taking naps in the hammock together, “if i can’t take my dog, i’m not going” vibes and teaching him how to surf. jj gets him a swim west, “safety first, buddy!”, with a fin on the back, because jj finds it so funny to see him swim in the ocean looking like a shark. he definitely has a dog voice (if you know, you know). lots of belly rubs, sharing sandwiches and kisses. that dog would be so spoiled. and jj has no shame using his new friend as his wingman “okay, buddy, i need your help. you see that cute girl over there? why don’t you go and say hello to her for me?” and when you feel something cold touching your leg you startle but as soon as you see this sweet little guy looking up at you, you’re gone. crouching down you scratch him behind his ears “who are you, you little cutie? where’s your owner?” you say looking around when you see this handsome blond boy running towards you “i’m so sorry! he does that sometimes. i’m still training him”, jj says the picture of innocence and you really can’t decide which one of the two has the more adorable puppy eyes. a few weeks later jj has a picture of you and lucky as his phone background. <3

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

If you want to be tagged when I update this fic, leave a comment on this post or send me an ask!

[rapha-reads]

Hey, will the Welsh be mad at me if I put Camelot in Cadbury Castle instead of one of the possible places in Wales in my BBC Merthur fic...? No? Cool. 'cuz I work with maps, y'all, we're having knights going on quests and a warlock disappearing into an old forest and a king riding after him, I need to map out everyone's trajectories and honestly I do not have time to get a degree in 100% historically and nationally accurate arthuriana. As much as it does hurt me to not spend the rest of the year brushing up on my folklore-accurate Welsh arthurian canon, sorry. Camelot is in Somerset, Tintagel in Tintagel, Cornwall, the Saxons are invading from old Alba, Londinium is around and making trouble for everyone and Brecon Beacons (wasn't that the place in Torchwood where the team met the cannibals...?) in Wales is covered by an old forest. It's the 5th century AC and it's fantasy, there's dragons and wizards and shit, who's to say there wasn't a magical mystical forest there after all.

[armandauntie]

the constant struggle of being an armand lover, linguist, and writer who has lived in san francisco and delhi who also only likes to write short, introspective fics that are very fact checked (which it turns out is difficult to do when the facts range three continents and 500+ years)