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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

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diyeoracha · 3 years

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fanfic recommendations

for @kittensocute bc i heard “atsukita” and “iwaoi” in reference to fanfiction and i am There

i took your “i love slow burn or slow build fics... so i like relatively shorter burn fics (20-30k). If its a 10k oneshot slow burn hELL SIGN ME UP” and absolutely ran with it.

i listed my fav iwaoi fics (17) with a longer word count (longest is 80k) that are all mostly either canon compliant or divergent with only two straight up AUs. none of them feature heavy nsfw content and most if not all are tagged as friends to lovers lmao. feel free to read the my thoughts or just go into them blind!! and they’re all in order of how much I absolutely adore them :^)

now atsukita is not a big ship *sobs* but here are some of my favorite fics (7) of them! a lot of them are shorter bc i guess that’s just. what happens when it’s a small ship LOL.

the formatting in this is fucked if you open it from ur dash but if it’s on my actual blog it should be fine!

Iwaoi

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

thoughts: my absolute absolute absolute favorite iwaoi fic. the characterization, the fact that oikawa’s a bastard but because he and iwaizumi are older (late 20s i believe), it feels more realistic and sad rather than oikawa being a bitch for the sake of it. spoiler alert it’s slow burn and pining and mostly oikawa not realizing his feelings. this world building is pretty cool bc iwaizumi is the professional player while oikawa is an entomology professor! also i love non-linear narratives bc of This fic. there’s mutual pining in this fic but it’s really really really subtle to the point where you dont even know if oikawa likes iwa. this made me cry like twice.

sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

thoughts: the tone in this is So similar to the courtship ritual that I liken this as an alternate story even though it’s still oikawa’s pov. professional player oikawa and regular guy iwaizumi and oikawa is just. bumming around at iwaizumi’s place and naturally he messes up but things happen.

told before and told again

word count: 4k

thoughts: i looked through literally all the tags i could’ve thought of for this and nearly cried when i found it agian. outsider POV!!

In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

thoughts: oikawa retires and moves in with iwaizumi and they blur the line between roommates/best friends and being fwb. this is an iwaizumi pov and the pining is obvious on his end. as a iwa stan the tone made me feel weird bc it makes it seem like iwa cares more abt oikawa than he cares abt himself but. its a good fic

i grew up, you grew down

word count: 19k

thoughts: this is also SO funny bc basically oikawa retires and moves in with iwaizumi and becomes his stay at home wife and a bunch of shit happens like people think that oikawa is dating ushijima and oikawa basically loses it every time. here’s one of my favorite quotes:

“Oikawa also bought a new ultra-strength vacuum cleaner he’d decided to name Ushiwaka out of sheer spite, because it sucked all the air right out of the room. Iwa-chan didn’t think the joke was that funny when Tooru told him, which was frankly very hurtful and insensitive.”

Mint

Word count: 19k

thoughts: iwaizumi is moving and oikawa planned a perfect last hangout and it goes to shit featuring matsuhana. oikawa pov where he pines more than iwa which is something i can get behind!! and this was written in 2015 and iwa’s moving bc of a sports medicine program so iwaizumi stans know and love him sm ;;

Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

thoughts: same premise as mint LOL except they’re on a trip together and there’s more non-linear narrative!! this one is a little more mature in tone than mint i would say (funny how people just like splitting them up and throwing them in different countries huh)

with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

thoughts: iwaoi roommates and they’re both obviously and really pine-y for each other and everyone sees it but them. srsly. they’re sleeping in the same bed. like my god

Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women’s volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

thoughts: so funny. so sososoosso genuinely funny. the tone is so snappy and iwaizumi honestly just sounds like a confused teenager (which he is in this) and it gets extra points for including a lot of american culture that a lot of the other iwaoi college au ones don’t include for like. obvious reasons lol.

Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

thoughts: iwaoi roommates thats abo but it’s like. mentioned twice. whiny and possessive oikawa makes an appearance in this but it’s done really well

things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he’s in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only for a little while.)

thoughts: high school getting together!! my second iwaoi fic ever and this one is just. so sweet. just an unsure oikawa realizing iwaizumi might be more than someone he wants as a best friend. this fic is honestly really really lovely.

galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

thoughts: ok this fic was so funny. theyre uni roommates and matsuhana just come fuck shit up and they all act like idiots together even though they go to different schools. and this really throws me back to university days.

Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19k

thoughts: pro! oikawa and iwaizumi haven’t been close for a while until oikawa invites iwaizumi to go to the games with him. there’s a lot of frustration and pining and actually talking about feelings (aka iwaizumi losing his mind and getting advice from people like akaashi)

when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

thoughts: this was actually my first iwaoi fic which is funny bc the author doesn’t even like oikawa much and i didnt even ship anything in haikyuu before i read this fic and now im in iwaoi hell. oikawa is really frustrating in this in that it’s basically a really good character analysis on how oikawa comes off as a Mean person all the time bc he’s manipulative and there’s some explicit content

shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

thoughts: iwaoi roommates with oikawa admitting his feelings first back when they were in middle school and iwaizumi putting that thought on the backburner until. obviously. things happen.

Desperado

word count: 80k

thoughts: one of my favorite aus. it’s all from kyoutani’s perspective and it’s almost so au that they’re original characters (if that makes sense). basically iwaoi matsuhana are ex-grifters except iwaoi are estranged and daishou somehow brings everyone back together. excellent world building and reading the pov from someone not involved with the iwaoi drama was refreshing

sing with me a song of conquest and fate

word count: 26k

thoughts: a mythical kings au that’s just. so pretty. iwaizumi ends up becoming oikawa’s servant for some reason and the world building is a+ because you can feel the trust and frustration from both of them build

Atsukita

dreams of me and you

word count: 10k (incomplete)

my second atsukita fic that rly sent me down atskt hell ;; what is essentially post-break up when atsumu gets signed to msby and he’s just Pining and sad for the most part. but the established relationship pre-break up was written really nicely because it just fits my hc of them just being domestic and atsumu being blatantly head over heels

take me home

word count: 4k

i read this this morning and it wrecked me. domestic relationship atsukita?? sign me up

No time like the rest of my life

word count: 19k

mythology au with kita as a regular person and rest of inarizaki as fox spirits! it’s cute and the world building is absolutely lovely but it is an au so they might seem ooc but their core character values are still there

wild blue yonder

word count: 6k

literally full of similes and metaphors and it’s more of an abstract read i guess? but it’s so beautiful and soft and this is exactly how i imagine their relationship

reap and sow

word count: 8k

atsumu confesses and kita ignores him and it’s a couple years after the fact and it’s mostly just weirdly domestic almost roommate like except for the fact that atsumu makes it clear he likes kita LOL. they’re really in character for this!

weightless souls

word count: 2k

pillow talk before atsumu’s first game! the atsumu pov and voice is amazing

if we were both alone

word count: 7k

now this was actually my first atskt fic that sent me down this rare pair hell. it’s an explicit chat fic (both tropes i usually try to avoid) but atsumu types like me (except for the nsfw parts alksfjd) so i guess i like. feel appreciation LMAO.

if you do read like any of these fics pls let me know so we can discuss

♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

#iwaoi #atsukita #i added some more on friday feb 19!

61 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hello! I haven't really been in Johnlock scene, but I suddenly had a MIGHTY NEED for mutual pining between the two, and your fic recs delivered in the best possible way. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing so much about these two! (and now it seems I'm lost to Johnlock, send help, but not really, this is awesome)

Hi Nonny!!

AHhhhh thank you for your kind words about my lists!!! I’m so happy you enjoy!!

You’re in luck, my friend!! I have a Part 2 list of my Mutual pining fics with enough to start a new list, so here we are!! Also, if you’re interested in exclusive pining, I’ve a part 2 to my Pining Sherlock list in its final stages of cleanup, so keep an eye out for that one!! <3 Enjoy!!

MUTUAL PINING Pt. 2

See also:

Mutual Pining Pt 1

Pining Sherlock || [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

Pining John

One Sided Pining

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fix It, Five and Ones, Drinking, Pining, Second Person POV Sherlock, Armchair Sex, Cracky and Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Better Late Than Never by sussexbound (NR (T), 3,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4 / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock POV, Love Confessions, Drunk Sherlock / Sober John, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil) – He suddenly wants John Watson out of his bedroom, out of his flat, out of his life, because he has been lying to himself these last few months, he realises. He doesn’t want John here, not with the way things are. He doesn’t want 221b Baker Street to be nothing more than rest stop John returns to on his journeys between women. He doesn’t want to play co-parent if Rosie is going to be snatched away from him and placed in the arms of whatever nameless woman du jour John lands on next. He doesn’t want to keep being so careful, so generous, so, so…

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

Apodyopsis by QuinnAnderson (E, 3,347 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Anal, Sexual Tension) – Apodyopsis: (æpəʊdaɪˈɒpsɪs) noun. the act of mentally undressing someone. Part 2 of Undressed

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w., 2 Ch. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: "So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the American CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?" Part 12 of Tumblr Collection

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) – When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3 / S3 Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Angelo’s, Fluff, First Time, Anal, Cum Play, Flashbacks to ASiB, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bottomlock, Cuddles, Multiple Orgasms, BJ’s, Bed Sharing) – John finds it three months after he's moved back. He's on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust.It's unopened. John's face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., 1 Ch. || It’s An Experiment, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Questionable Science) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock's study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn't entirely mind.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Sentenced by SarahKnight (T, 44,777 w., 30 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Alternate S4 Canon, Drama, Angst, Pining, Feelings are Hard) – Virtual series 4 opener. Sherlock's in prison being targeted by a murderer, John's married to a pregnant assassin and Moriarty's back.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #mutual pining #pining sherlock #pining john #my fic recs #Anonymous #long post

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parkeraul · 5 years

Note

trying the spider-man kissing with tom would be 10/10 yk...

→ upside down | t.h.

author’s note — hey ya, thanks for requesting. i hope you like it! requests are open again for tom, peter & shawn, btw. hit the askbox.

pairing: tom holland x reader

masterlist ┊add yourself to my taglists ┊give me feedbacks.

warnings — fluff, kissing and cursing.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re Spider–Man, dumbass,” Tom hears Y/N saying with a roll in his eyes, arms crossed and eyebrows lifting up. “You’ve done this before, I don’t get the outrage of everything.”

Leaning against the counter, Tom keeps his arms crossed and face unsuccessfully shut — his lips are pressed together in a thin line to hold back his nervous laughter, his cheeks are contracting as he bites the inside of them and his leg can’t stop bouncing. His hair is damp from the shower he took a few minutes ago, some drops traveling down his shoulders and some others falling directly onto his gray sweatpants, painting darker spots on the cotton fabric. It’s almost impossible to take him seriously when he’s looking like a kid whose candy just got stolen, even more with his bare chest flushing and matching his rosy face.

“Let’s just not use my role as a proof against me, ‘kay?” Tom untangles his arms to show his palms in defense, crossing his bouncy leg in front of the other. “First because it’s hella unfair, secondly: it would be better if you get upside down rather than me, love.”

“Why me?”

“Because that way your hair would stay outta my way,” He explains, coming closer with a boyish grin and Y/N widens her eyes, mouth parting slightly in surprise. “Do you know how many times I chewed your hair while we were kissing?”

“That was one time!” She squeaks out. “When we had that date on the beach and the wind was insane, you cannot blame me for that.”

Tom only chuckles out loud, close enough to wrap one arm around her waist while his free hand tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, just in case. When he feels her melting into his touch, he holds her middle with both arms and lifts her body up, and she envolves his waist with her legs. Her hands cup his face, still staring at him kind of annoyed, but her lips catch his in anyways. Tom shuts his eyes close, breathing deeply through his nose and she does the same, both pair of lips getting lost into one another to a point where they can barely disguise which pair is actually theirs or not. The pressure is just on point, low and soft smack sounds flying around the kitchen as Tom blindly searches for the top of the counter again.

“Mm–mm–mm,” She mutters in denial, not breaking the kiss but tapping the cold marble under her hands, noticing that Tom is placing her frame onto it. Y/N tries to break free from his hold and step away, but his muscular arms are stronger as they keep her in place effortlessly. Realising what he’s doing, she mumbles against his mouth, “F–ckin’ cheater.”

The british boy laughs against her lips, feeling the sharp slap of her hand against his bare shoulder and he would be lying if he said it didn’t burn.

“Gotta think fast, darlin’,” He inches backwards, standing just a few centimeters away from her face. Blinking sarcastically, Tom steals a loud peck from her mouth and gently bites her cheek quickly, laying a soft slap on the side of her ass in return to the shoulder thing that happened seconds ago. “Now turn around and lie down, Miss Parker, I want my kiss.”

“You little piece of sh—”

“No, babe, that’s not how it starts,” Tom fakes disappointment, turning her body around himself — carefully, he supports both her legs on top of his forearm and holds the small of her back. Like this, he starts spinning her frame around. “I say ‘you are amazing’, right?” When Y/N has her back turned to him, he smiles even wider, having the most fun of the entire day because she’s not moving an inch to collaborate with his plan. “Then you say ‘some people don’t think so’ and then I’m gonna insist, ‘but you are’, ‘kay?” His voice tone is cocky, to a point where Y/N doesn’t need to look back to know that he’s explaining through the biggest smile in the world, splattered all over his annoyingly–cute little face.

“How long have you been planning this?” Y/N asks, unconsciously leaning her back down on the cold marble and hissing lowly due to the sensation, shifting her head closer to the edge of the counter.

“To be honest? I have no idea either.”

It doesn’t take long until Y/N has her hair cascading down the edge of the counter, hands grabbing the sides of the white marble for dear life and stomach getting those butterflies, lungs working heavily to keep her calm. Tom kneels down on the kitchen floor, pearl–white smile so full of joy it won’t disappear for days, he thinks. When she opens her eyes, there he is: glancing at her so enchantingly that his puppy–brown eyes are shining brighter than ever, the back of his fingers caressing her face lovingly and his thumbs coming to trace her jawline unhurriedly.

“Done, dork,” She says lowly. “My hair is out of my face.”

“Do I get to say thank you this time?” Closing the space between them, Tom asks with the softest smirk.

“Oh, Tom,” Y/N recognises the film line and laughs, shaking her head weakly to avoid getting dizzier. “Just go for it already, this is not my best angle.”

After they laugh together, it’s like a calmy atmosphere reaches down onto them, making their hearts beat in a weirdly–comfortable nervousness. They don’t know why this suddenly became so serious, but in Tom’s mind it always had to happen perfectly. So, when they close their eyes simultaneously, he brushes his pink lips against hers — once, twice, threatening but never ending the torture. It’s a new way to feel it, and he wants it all. He wants the craving, the desire, the hunger; all the sensations and feelings crashing together and building an expectation that could only be undone with the kiss he wanted for so long. His right hand grazes her cheek and his left hand supports her shoulder, silently assuring her that she’s safe with him, nothing and no harm is ever gonna happen to her as long as he’s here — either if it’s only a ‘stupid’ upside down kiss thing.

When Tom feels that she’s drunken in as much as he is, he decides to catch her bottom lip in between his and kiss her so devotedly that he can feel the love running back and forth through his nerves intensely. So far, there’s nothing different but when they both slip their tongues to meet each other, the couple frown together. It’s odd, but they go on in anyways. It almost seem like they don’t know how to kiss, like they’re kissing for the first time just like teenagers. Insisting, Tom only uses the tip of his tongue to taste hers timidly, trying to decide what the actual fuck he’s gonna do. With the two spurred on to find ways to make it happen, things start to slowly fit together as how it’s supposed to be since the very beginning. He switches down to grab her upper lip while she gives attention to his lower one, pressing smooches before using their tongues again.

When they do so, it feels better.

It’s head—spinning slow, a touch so good and so new that it shots a wave of excitement down their bodies. Heartbeats faster makes the kiss’ pace fasten too, tongues never getting enough of each other in a taste that feels so heavenly good, too good to be true. Tom kisses Y/N fiercely, as if he could explain with a kiss how much of a dream it is: to finally do the Spider–Man kiss and, more than that, to do it with the girl of his dreams.

They break the kiss for air, but not shifting away that much. Tom never stopped rubbing his thumb along her skin and he doesn’t feel like doing it so soon.

“That was—”

“Wow.”

He chuckles at her reaction, can’t help but steal two kisses in a row.

“Yeah, love,” He agrees, whispering so deep in passion. “That was wow.”

“Could you do something for me, though?”

“Anything, Peter Parker.” He jokes.

Y/N breathes deeply, grimacing as her hands try to find a safe way to get up again.

“Get me outta here,” She says through gritted teeth, feeling her body sliding towards the end of the counter. “For the love of Mary Jane.”

Taglist: @outlandishnerd @jillanaholland | Tagging mutuals: @mcuspidey @santaholland @snowflakeparker

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland requests #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland x reader #mine #ficsofmine #yeeeeeeet #this blog stans a spidercat shipp tho

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aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Riverdale Season 5 Episode 9 Review – Chapter 85: Destroyer

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The mundane mingles with the supernatural in a enjoyably goofy episode.

Riverdale Season 5 Episode 8

“It is better to know the truth and make peace with it.”

In a bit of selfless wisdom, Cheryl states the above words to Betty in tonight’s bonkers installment. The context being that Betty doesn’t want to tell her mother that it looks like Polly is a goner. So she goes to Cheryl basically to inquire whether she feels that her cousin’s life would have been better had she not known Jason’s true fate.

The from-the-heart response that Cheryl gives her is quickly ignored, and Betty hides the truth from Alice. Since this is an episode of Riverdale, Betty’s deception immediately backfires on her when her FBI superior Glen arrives at the Cooper household to reveal Polly’s probable fate and kick Betty off the case. (Somewhere in the night, Veronica does a breathy cover of The Thompson Twins’ “Lies”).

Anyway, let’s get back to that quote for a second: It is better to know the truth and be at peace with it. That’s going to be the mantra for this entire review, as there are fundamental truths I’ve touched upon in the past that demand to be recognized before the healing can be reached. They are:

1- Archie’s football storyline is a total snooze.

Riverdale may have leaped seven years into the future, but Archie remains as doltish as ever. Granted, K.J. Apa is killing it this season as a grizzled version of the character, but the problem of Archie’s messiah complex still drags on. There are a lot of fascinating things happening on this series right now, and all the Bulldogs stuff does is slow down the breakneck pace that those interesting storylines are moving in. Aliens are in Riverdale, nobody cares about high school football right now. C’mon.

All that said, Britta rules.

2 – Any time that this series isn’t focusing on Mothmen Aliens is wasted time.

The show is taking serious liberties by mashing up Mothman and alien abduction mythologies, which really upends my In Search Of-influenced ideology about how the world works. I’ll forgive this because putting “aliens” on Riverdale is a work of stupid genius but also because I love watching Cole Sprouse and his starter goatee running around looking totally frantic.

3 – Hiram Lodge should be eaten by Mothmen Aliens.

Am I alone in thinking this could actually happen? What a coup for the series that would be! We know that Hiram is involved in some shady business, and all his SoDale shenanigans are a cover for some big secret. Therefore the mystery of the Lonely Highway is directly traced back to Hiram. Is he working for the government? Did aliens cure his mystery illness of last year and in turn is he feeding them Riverdale’s castoffs? Nothing is off the table here. Hiram’s machinations have been the same since he first appeared, but what if he really was working for aliens THE WHOLE TIME? Wouldn’t that be insane/amazing? No other show could pull that kind of shit off.

What I’m saying here is that Riverdale has been dancing with insanity since day one and it’s time to consummate the relationship.

4 – Betty Cooper, Alien Hunter needs to happen.

She fights werewolves in the comics, so is this really that crazy?

The ultimate mystery of whatever is happening this season will likely have a logic-based answer. That’s disappointing, as the Archieverse can be shown to handle witches, so are extraterrestrials that far off? (I’m still burned by the conclusion of the Gargoyle King saga, so I’m not expecting much here). Imagine though, the writing staff wants you to think that everything will wrap up with a plausible explanation and then, boom, it gives you bona fide aliens! A dream is a wish the heart makes…

This episode did give us clarity on a few things. We learned that both Jughead’s and Betty’s investigations lead back to the Lonely Highway and the mysteries — either terrestrial or otherworldly — unfolding there. Additionally, we were reminded that even though he’s ostensibly the lead character of this series, Archie is straight-up boring when he isn’t being attacked by bears or escaping from prison. With only one more episode before an extended hiatus, I hope next week brings us some resolution even though deep down I know that it won’t.

Riverdale Rundown

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• Jughead’s student who writes the troubling story about Mothman abduction is Lerman Logan, a reference to The Perks of Being a Wallflower and Percy Jackson franchise star.

• Old Man Dreyfus’ name is clearly inspired by Close Encounters of the Third Kind star Richard Dreyfuss, which is fitting as the supernatural elements of this season are riffing on the sci-fi blockbusters of the 1970s and ’80s. Further proof of this can be seen by Drefyus telling Betty and Jughead about how Riverdale was a hotbed of Mothmen activity in the summers of 1977 and 1982, ones in which Star Wars and E.T. respectively ruled at the box office.

• Mr. Weatherbee threatens to fire Jughead if he doesn’t stay out of Lerman’s problems, apparently forgetting that Jughead isn’t really even a teacher and is only volunteering.

• Even objectively, Archie is a terrible coach. Can we please fold him into the Jughead/Betty storyline somehow? It’s great to see him and Veronica back together but damn do they need better plots to work with.

• One of the teams that defeats the Bulldogs is the Baxter High Ravens. In case you forgot already, Baxter High was one of the schools that Sabrina attended in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina.

• One has to wonder how the Vixens must feel about Cheryl, a woman in her twenties who graduated seven years ago, returning to her alma mater to steal the thunder of teenagers who live in Murdersville, U.S.A. and have no other outlet besides cheerleading by performing a self-aggrandizing Lady Gaga cover. Cheryl does a lot of messed up stuff on this show, but this act struck me as especially cruel.

• There’s no Toni and very little Tabitha Tate tonight. Boo.

• I still think they should sell the Pop Tate bobbleheads they keep showing.

• Kevin gets put through the emotional and physical ringer this episode. We learn that disparaging remarks from his mother impacted his self-image so much that he turned to cruising in Fox Forest. (The fate of Mrs. Keller is unknown, so it is possible that she will make an appearance in an upcoming episode). The assault that Kevin endured was brutal to watch, but the scene between Kevin and his father was powerful and cathartic. It will be interesting to see where the character of Kevin goes from here, because it is absurdly beyond time the writers give him a personality trait other than chronic thirst.

• Someone on the Riverdale production staff must really love Friday Night Lights.

• I don’t believe for a second that Polly is actually dead. There’s more of a chance of Hiram being eaten by Mothmen Aliens or Archie getting a compelling A-plot.

• I hate on the football storyline a lot in this review, but I do find all the talk about tainting the podunk town’s football league’s prestige to be weirdly funny.

• Pop’s sells take out cold cuts too? Helluva business, that Chok’lit Shoppe.

• “I’m saying that things happen, especially in Riverdale,” declares Jughead, in the most obvious statement in the episode.

• Please let them do a Mulder and Scully thing with Jughead and Betty.

• I think there’s more Mr. Weatherbee in tonight’s episode than there has been in the entire series to date. That’s a fantastic thing.

• So is Reggie done with Hiram for good now? He is such a key figure in the comics that it would be fantastic if the series figured out what the hell to do with him.

• Having reviewed this show from the first episode, I’ve learned a thing or two about how Riverdale storylines work. Therefore I’m calling it now: Glen is the Trash Bag Killer. You think so too, I know it.

• So far this season has drawn influence from everything from cryptozoological monsters to the real-life crimes of Patrick Kearney. Next week marks the mid-season finale, and the promise of everything from aliens to Pop’s possibly being blown up by Hiram? Whatever happens, cherish it, as the show then won’t return until July.

The post Riverdale Season 5 Episode 9 Review – Chapter 85: Destroyer appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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dinfeanoriel · 5 years

Text

Warrior

So not procrastinating on schoolwork :) Anywho, yet another Linked Universe fanfic I wanted to write. This AU belongs to Linked Universe and Jojo56830! I should probably add that while I do own the game, I have never finished Hyrule Warriors, so I don’t quite know what the background for it is and whatnot. I own nothing but my own writing.

~~~~~~~

If there was any other name Warrior loathed more than Ganon’s, it was his own. When he’d met the other Links and Wind explained their need for nicknames, he was automatically given ‘Warrior,’ and Warrior hated it. At first, Four had suggested ‘Captain,’ but Warrior flatly refused it. That name brought to mind memories he had no wish of acknowledging.

Now, he was stuck with ‘Warrior,’ and he found himself struggling with it more and more. It was a name he’d never imagined he would take upon himself. A name that was accompanied by nothing but grief, betrayal, and pain...

But it was also a name that brought hope, reassurance, and light.

A name so full of precious memories Warrior wanted to keep close to his heart and cherish, but also full of remembered sorrow and loss.

Call it nostalgia or reminiscence, he didn’t care. To the Links, it was nothing more than a name, but to Warrior, it was everything but a name.

Wind looked up to him, others relied on him for strategy and orders...Not to mention the group saw him as a pompous, arrogant, your-typical-everyday soldier. They didn’t know. They had no clue who he really was. They only recognized and saw him by this façade he’d put in place to keep them from noticing the truth.

And he’d done darn well. An excellent job, if he did say so himself.

Warrior could see them, however.

Legend, for all his snarkiness, sarcasm, and wit was a strong but broken soul trudging through life. Someone who had seen and done more than they could ever imagine.

Wind was their beacon of light. Always so bright, cheerful, and upbeat. He could bring a smile to everyone’s faces with his happiness. It was contagious. He was always so optimistic, but when the time called for it, Wind would become serious and ready for a fight to protect, honor, and defend. He was so young, and he had already seen so much.

“I’m fourteen!” Warrior remembered Wind happily declaring when he’d been asked his age. He’d worn a toothy smile, eyes sparkling, and Warrior felt a pang in his heart. How could he be so bright and happy?

He’d been twelve when he’d set out to rescue his sister and defeat Ganondorf.

A child!

Sky was the most skilled swordsman of their group. He was a kind and gentle, quiet, person. Soft spoken and understanding. He was the person that if anyone were to even look at him, they would instantly know they liked him.

If Warrior was envious of anything, it was Sky’s ability to fall asleep wherever and whenever he wanted. How did he manage that?

Four was an enigma to Warrior. He was small, but he was not to be underestimated. There were times Warrior would look to the Hero and find him smiling or scowling for some unknown reason and sometimes, Warrior could swear his eyes would change color. At night, when Warrior would take watch, Four would mutter and argue in his sleep.

With himself.

It was a mystery he had yet to solve.

Hyrule was directionally challenged. This, the Links caught onto almost immediately. The Hero could not go anywhere without getting lost. He was also someone who was unaccustomed to company. Warrior could tell with the hesitant and almost shy way in which he would interact with them and try to integrate with the group. It had taken him time to grow accustomed to camping and sleeping around eight other Heroes.

Warrior gave a small smile. The Links could care less about how a person was. They accepted everyone. Welcomed them. If they kept Legend around, then Hyrule had no need to fear about his place with them.

Warrior would have snickered.

Twilight was a man of few words. He spoke only when he needed to or felt like it. He spoke little of his adventure, only sharing snippets here and there. He was scarily protective of Wild, and that protection extended to Wind and Four seeing as they were the youngest of the group. Warrior often heard Wild claim Twilight acted more of a big dog than he would ever realize, and Warrior had to agree.

He even growled.

Wild’s name fit the Hero perfectly. He was an adventurer. A wanderer. Someone adept to surviving in the wilderness. He rarely spoke and the Heroes never pressed him to. There was no doubt in Warrior’s mind that Wild had once been a Knight. He held himself like one more than he realized and fought like one. He was skilled in using multiple weapons and quick to observe. If there was anything Warrior couldn’t deny, it was Wild’s ability to whip up a meal out of whatever resources were available.

Legend was...well, Legend. Snarky, sarcastic, and outspoken. He rarely kept his thoughts to himself, and was honest- sometimes brutally so. He was wary of others and slow to trust. He kept a close eye on his belongings and possessions, as if he were afraid they would disappear if he didn’t. Money was a big deal to him, and Legend was greatly unwilling to part with his rupees. He only did so if he had an absolute need to.

Warrior knew he hadn’t always been this way.

“I’m sorry, Warrior.”

Warrior flinched. How he hated that phrase. Those two little, meaningless, words.

~~~~~~

“We’re sorry, Link,” The soldier said to him, his professional and calm demeanor telling Link he wasn’t. Not truly, anyway. They were desensitized to this kind of thing. They were used to this. Casualties and bloodshed were a part of war after all...But this...

Anything but this.

“But there was nothing we could do.”

Link clenched his fists tightly together, eyes burning, “So you left him there to die?!” He demanded, and the soldiers flinched. “You were his reinforcements! The lot of you are nothing more than pathetic cowards! You are unworthy of your names!”

~~~~~~

“Don’t be,” Warrior found himself saying, plastering a fake smile on his lips and shrugging nonchalantly, “What else could you have done?” And with that, he turned away and left, leaving Legend to stare after him weirdly.

Hours had passed since then. Warrior lost track of time.

~~~~~~

“He died a Hero.” A quiet, mellifluous, voice said.

“What does it matter?” Link muttered, knees drawn to his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. “He shouldn’t have died in the first place.” Bitter sorrow and anger laced his words.

The woman flinched. She knew they hadn’t been directed towards her, but she felt responsible all the same. She moved with the grace and elegance befitting of a Queen, crouching down beside him and brushing her fingers against his shoulder,

“He was a warrior, Link. The Captain of the Guard,” She softly murmured, “He did what he knew to be right.”

“And he died for it,” Link whispered hoarsely, tears springing to his eyes. “He died because they left him! They were his men! He trusted them with his life and they betrayed him!”

~~~~~~

Ah, betrayal.

Warrior loathed traitors. For those were exactly who those worthless knights had been. Wild had seen first hand how Warrior dealt with traitors.

The Yiga stood no chance against him.

~~~~~~

“How long will you grieve, Link?” His dearest friend had asked him one day. She’d found Link sitting in front of the tomb the kings of old were laid to rest. His friend knew who he was visiting that particular day. She had heard Link had not once moved from it, and it was far past sunset. “It has been seven years. He wouldn’t want this.”

Link’s face was hidden by the shadows, his hair creating a curtain that hid his face from her view.

Zelda did not think he would answer, but then, Link raised himself to his feet, straightening his back and shoulders. When she met his eyes, she recognized the sheer determination and willpower blazing within them. The Knight-in-training lifted his clenched fist and solemnly declared,

“I will become the next Captain of the Guard- a warrior, like my Father before me!”

And Zelda knew it to be true. Whether it was the fire in his eyes or the passionate declaration, she knew not.

“I will win this war in his stead and bring honor to his name.” He turned and pressed his hand gently against the cold stone door of the tomb, resting his forehead against it. He whispered something so softly the Princess was unable to pick up the words. Once he was finished, Link left to make preparations for their next attack.

She watched him go before moving to pay her own respects to the Hero who lay within.

The Hero of War Our beloved Captain of the Guard Who will be dearly missed,

Link

~~~~~~~

For Warrior, his name wasn’t simply a name.

It was something more personal to him.

It was his Father’s name.

And he both hated and loved it.

#Linked Universe #linkeduniverse #Legend of Zelda #Warrior #Fanfic

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sweeneyxlaura · 5 years

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Suggestion for S3 Madwife kiss (little late I know): Mad Sweeney giving a kiss to the top of Laura's head and Laura having no idea how to react

ACK, that is so sweet! I totally just pictured Sweeney feeling a little woozy (or boozy, lol) and just gives her that peck without even thinking, and Laura reacting like a deer caught in headlights. And she would totally overthink it too, right? Hmm…normally, I’d say if it was just any dude, she’d be annoyed, but with Sweeney, I think she would be internally screaming while trying to play it cool. Ok, maybe not screaming, but just….freaking out a little because she rarely does so? And because it’s Sweeney?

And as a first kiss, this would be a great slow-burn starter. In fact, any kind of chaste kiss or touch generally drives me crazy…with EXCITEMENT. Some ships are probably a bit too slow *side-eyes Mulder putting his hand on Scully’s lower back for the 15287th time and nothing else*, but I think the pacing of Sweeney/Laura’s whole shippy deal has been pretty nicely balanced. I’m glad they didn’t have Laura view Sweeney in any romantic way at all until they got to New Orleans, which was already ¾ of the way into S2. It makes for a more believable character and arc if Laura kept trying to fit Shadow into that place in her heart until she realized on her own how useless it all was. And even as we’re up to speed, I’d say Laura is ambiguous about how she feels about Sweeney. If I had to sum up her feelings towards him from a romantic standpoint, I’d say she’s…curious. Weirdly attracted and curious, but a bit dubious all the same.

Which is to say, if Sweeney did drop a kiss on her head of something similarly affectionate, I think she’d have no idea how to react like you said, but I don’t think she would run away either. Thinking back to the NOLA morning-after, she told him that she wanted to get as far away from him as possible, but it was really about her running away from her own feelings of uncertainty and confusion. And that’s all well and good, but once faced with Sweeney being gone forever-ever – as in she’ll never be able to angrily walk away from him again, never insult him again, never dangle him by the balls again, etc. – things got real. And this coming from someone who never seemed to take death all that seriously, even her own….but Sweeney’s death?

^ Wowza. (Gif credit to the lovely @ladylannistarth)

And I think that genuine sense of loss, along with time spent reflecting on her emotions and owning them will make her more open to the unpredictability and, however new-agey this sounds, the sanctity of life….which includes the possibility of allowing yourself to love and be loved, which Laura seems to struggle with.

Christ….I sound like a pamphlet. ANYWAY…

Thanks for your suggestion, anon…better late than never, I say! :)

#madwife #laura moon #mad sweeney #ask #anon #just give us all the kisses k?#meta

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europeanguy · 5 years

Text

Gotta Gogh [Part 5.2: From Cordonia]

Pairing: Nadia x Maxwell

Words: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence, Crossovers, time skips and POV changes, cheesy lines and a sprinkle of angst… maybe

Your brother is the Duke, he manages the duchy of Ramsford and the estate, he has people relying on him and people who trust him, he makes sure that House Beaumonts’ legacy doesn’t go up in flames – where do you fit in?

Where do I fit in?

The limo hits some bumps in the road, and Maxwell hits his head on something weirdly shaped. He comes to a few seconds later, realizing he’s been dozing off on his brother’s shoulder. Bertrand isn’t too fussed, he’s too busy reading something on his iPad. How Bertrand could read in a moving vehicle, he will never understand. He switches it off, uttering something about ‘needing coffee and do you want some?’. But Maxwell knows that his older brother is just being gentle on him, too gentle that it makes his mind race thinking about the worst possible case scenarios. Could all of Ramsford have burned down? Did anyone they know die? Did he get somebody pregnant?

Or maybe it’s just because Bertrand had found him with semi-wet clothes and damp, red, eyes – this sad, sad being that entered through the doors of their house in the capital.

Maxwell shakes his head no to the coffee, then shoves a hand in his pocket to make sure its still there. He traces its rounded edges, feeling its carvings press indents into his skin. And it’s a little bit comforting. He takes it out and looks at this cartoony miniature of the Eiffel Tower, bronze, with “Paris” written across the length of it in big bold words.

He and Nadia had laughed at the tackiness of it all. And yet they wore matching t-shirts proudly saying “Bonjour!”.

So, she bought one of the pocket-sized Eiffel Towers when he wasn’t looking.

Maxwell rolls his shoulders and straightens up, getting stiff in the seats. Bertrand preferred the limo when traveling to Ramsford because of that much needed leg-room, but the carpets and the plush seats made Maxwell feel like the air is being crushed out of the space. Bertrand clears his throat and scoots near the mini-fridge, looking for the cold-brew cans they kept stocked in there with the champagne.

They weren’t going to talk about it.

It must be dragging close to 10 am by now since they left at dawn, and Nadia’s probably already in New York. He can sleep away the rest of the day, judging by how nicely Bertrand has been treating him.

The thing is, Nadia knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t keep his promise. And so Maxwell found out through the other students living on her floor – Nadia left the day before. Her door was unlocked, the room left empty except for the furniture that came with it. And then he found it, the mini Eiffel Tower miniature, on the bed. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh as he picked it up. Nadia knew he thought the touristy trinkets were ugly.

What Maxwell realized in Paris is that he’s kind of really fucked. That Nadia is extraordinary, and he loves her.

“We’re almost here.” Bertrand says, sipping his coffee. He grimaces lightly, no wonder in need of a real cup soon. Maxwell nods, knowing that it’s a prompt for him to fix himself before meeting with the main house’s staff.

The limo turns down the road that leads to the vast manor he grew up in. The driveway is long and lined with trees, much like the main palace. He has time to brush back his hair – still feeling weird about its shortness – straighten his clothes, and rub the sleep away from his eyes.

After exchanging a polite welcome with the main house staff, Maxwell has disappeared off to his room in no time – and without any complaints from Bertrand at all, who simply asked him to be present at dinner at six. He tosses off his jacket and toes off his shoes, throwing himself on the bed face-down. His mother would always scold him about wearing outside clothes to bed. Maxwell squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for sleep to come – but it doesn’t.

Nadia never did say anything about not calling.

Nadia taps the metal ferrule of her brush repeatedly against the paint thinner can’s brim, shaking off the excess. She’s not sure how much time she’s sat there staring at the painting that never seems to be finished.

Back in New York, and she’s literally watching paint dry.

Sighing, she takes the brush again and scrapes it on the drying blob of blue paint, hardly picking up any pigment at first but eventually it gives and seeps through the strands, bright and blue. Blue.

Stop. Have a break. Nadia decides to leave the brush on the container beside the easel and stands up, feeling the strain on her back and her legs as she stretches. Quickly, Nadia opens her window to let the paint and thinner fumes out – she always forgets to, which is why she’s convinced that someday she would inhale too much and just drop dead. Then she cleans up all the candy wrappers (Gran will find out soon enough that she ate all the decorations for the gingerbread house), turns off the lights, and finally collapses on her bed, limbs splayed out – and she sighs, letting her eyes close.

It’s illogical how she hasn’t been able to sleep yet after spending a long-haul flight watching all the romcom movies available and crying. Crying is exhausting. Turns out dramatic airport goodbyes were just for movie screens – and thank god for that. A sharp pang of guilt shoots through her for lying to Maxwell. But he’s stubborn, and Nadia knew he would still try to see her off anyway.

She rolls over and sniffs the soothing smell of fresh sheets, the same old brand of detergent that her grandma always used. Their grandparents’ apartment in New York is small, but it had just enough space for the four of them for when she and Kai visited over the break. It had a small balcony for an herb garden that only their Grandpa cared for. From outside, the light pollution of the city gives casts a bluish glow in tall shadows across her room. It’s closing in on five in the morning, the sunrise late in mid-December but she can see the faint colors of dawn starting to show in the sky.

Her phone rings underneath a pillow somewhere, its muffled sounds making her heart race the longer she leaves it. Her restraint snaps, and she jumps off her bed to rummage through her room for the damned phone. Finally, she finds it underneath an orange throw pillow. She tosses the pillow away and reads the caller ID.

You’re not being silly, Maxwell. All this pressure and expectations, they’re insane and being compared to your brother must hurt.

Maxwell picks at his cufflinks – gold with a monogrammed MB. Bertrand hadn’t mentioned that the six pm dinner would be with a fund manager, an estate agent, and the way too slick and smart Chief of Staff; essentially Bertrand’s right-hand man and the one he would sort of replace in the near future. He wouldn’t be taken off the payroll, of course, but he had always been critical of Maxwell and his lack of involvement in estate issues. They all formally wait in line to shake hands with the Duke and his brother.

But I know your brother loves you, and he’s proud of you and all of your achievements.

It still scares Maxwell how charming his brother could be. He lags behind Bertrand and watches him exchange fond greetings with their company. Bertrand turns towards Maxwell and beckons him towards them. His heart swells when Bertrand pats his back reassuringly as he shakes their hands.

He fits here. Right?

I know what it’s like to not feel accepted or competent – but Maxwell, this is your purpose.

Maxwell doesn’t try to dazzle them with whatever he learned that semester, it would be fruitless since these people have been doing this long enough to differentiate the fluff from substance. Instead he sits quietly for once, listening and trying to absorb as much as he could – to no avail. All he can think of was that call.

You’re amazing, intelligent, and caring, and you deserve much more praise. Your brother understands this more than anyone.

You’re starting to sound like my mother and it’s scaring me.

Why do you always joke?

But she laughed. Her laugh sounded like music to his ears, even though it was in bad quality, crackling audio over a phone. Maxwell is broken out of his trance when the first course is served. Bertrand could tell he’s still completely distracted – although thankfully not as miserable as when he had found him.

I can’t handle it, it’s getting too emotional. He reaches into his pocket again to feel the little Eiffel Tower. I didn’t know how I was supposed to let you go.

That’s why I made that decision for you.

Bertrand and the others launch into a deep conversation about estate issues. Maxwell picks at his food, focusing more on the sound of the clatter of silverware against china. Has it really been one whole semester?

Yeah. It was way too quick. I used to wonder a lot if coming to Cordonia was some huge mistake. Since, you know, I didn’t exactly fit in,

He’s not entirely sure that he fits in here too. He tries, he really does. And he wants to help Bertrand who seemed like he aged ten years from all the stress of being a duke.

But Maxwell liked to think of him and Nadia as pieces of the puzzle that come from two different boxes. They had somehow found each other and clicked perfectly. It’s nonsensical, but it happened. It’s where he fits in.

Then I met you and all that went out the window. I was right where I was supposed to be.

Maxwell keeps replaying that part in his head. He took a moment to answer, willed the seconds to slow down.

He remembered everything, it pressed at him, insistent and waiting.

I love you, Nadia.

Nadia yawned softly on the other line, and then all he could hear after that was her faint breathing. Maxwell is brought back to the present, and he closes his eyes to imagine her face under the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps in Paris – wondering what if.

End

EPILOGUE

Maxwell steps outside the limo in some street that he vaguely remembers – he could only hope it’s the right one. He tells his driver to come back in a while and smooths down his black button-down shirt, the begins to walk up the strangely quiet street. Well, relatively quiet compared to the rest of New York.

He needed this peace after what just happened, waking up with his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton and a pounding headache. As the one morning person in the group, of course he’s the first to wake up – even though it’s already way past the afternoon. The boys back at their suite sleepily complained about all the noise he made while in the shower.

Ha! “Noise”. Excuse you, I was singing.

After Liam disappeared with the waitress, the rest of the boys decided to fuck off and blow some cash away at the nearest high-end club they could find. He doesn’t remember how they ended up at some rooftop party full of hipsters and catching wind of a familiar name in their conversations. Some rising star in the art world. An art show in Brooklyn. Here’s the address.

“Nadia! Hey!”

Nadia turns and spots her cousin, Kai, among the crowd. She quickly excuses herself to pass through all the people – it’s still crazy to think about just how much her work blew up.

“You made it!” She envelops Kai in a tight hug, and holds her at arm’s length. “So? What do you think?”

Kai scans the room with an appreciative look on her face. “Are you kidding? This is insane. I’m so proud of you.”

“Not the show!” Nadia gestures at herself. “Do I look okay?”

Kai laughs. “You look like an artist with a popping art show and not to mention a fat bank account after all this.”

“What?”

“She’s saying you look fine and that we promise to step in once you start unironically wearing… berets.” Damien suddenly claps a reassuring hand on Nadia’s shoulder, holding a drink on the other. His wrinkles his nose at someone who passes by wearing a bejeweled beret.

“You’re so judgmental!” Kai stifles a laugh with her hand.

Damien shrugs and takes a gulp from his drink. “So, who do I have to beat up this time?”

“Ugh, stop it.” Nadia rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly at Damien’s over-protectiveness. “His name is Steve and you guys have to promise me that you’ll be nice.”

Kai nods. “That’s mostly directed towards you, Damien.”

“I’ll be nice, alright.” Damien frowns. “I’m just saying- it’s weird that he’s an investment banker who also happens to be a baker, volunteers at animal shelters, and his name is Steve.”

“What do you have against Steves?” Nadia laughs.

“Yeah! Steves are generally nicer than Damiens!” Kai shares a conspiratorial smile with Nadia.

Damien downs the rest of his drink. “I didn’t ask to be ganged up on like this.”

Nadia’s phone rings and her whole face lights up. “Uh oh, I think he’s outside but he’s not sure which one it is.”

Kai shoots Damien a be nice glare as Nadia excuses herself to go to the entrance. Her heart pounds with excitement as she walks. A cold gust of wind greets her as she pushes open the door, and comes face to face with – Maxwell Beaumont.

She feels like all the air has been knocked out of her lungs as Maxwell looks back at her, shocked.

“…hi.”

FACTS THAT ARE DECIDEDLY NOT FUN BECAUSE THESE ARE JUST DISGUISED AUTHOR’S NOTES also I am sad

- So it ended! FINALLY!

- No joke it was so difficult to end this series despite it only having a few chapters. It went through rewrites upon rewrites and even me deleting a WHOLE alternate ending wherein Nadia doesn’t leave early.

- They don’t end up together in both endings but I have greatly considered just throwing all my plans out the window and have Maxwell follow Nadia to New York. Ah… now wouldn’t that be nice.

- Nadia literally slept on Maxwell lolol get it

- If anyone would want to see the draft of the alternate ending I can drop you the google docs link.

- The epilogue happens on the first chapter of both books where they’re BOTH in New York; Nadia has her art exhibit, and the TRR boys are at the “bachelor” party. Again, I changed what happened in each bc… I can.

- Big thanks to @pixieferry who motivated me endlessly to write and her unwavering support, and to @littlecrookedheart for basically greasing the stuck gears (this is a weird phrase) in my brain that finally got me to writing this ending, I appreciate all her help (even the kill someone and Andy cameo suggestions)

- Thank you also to everyone who stuck by this story. I’m so so so happy that I finished it, and I’m so grateful for your patience. This is the first and last fic I will post on this account because I made a separate blog for fics (that’s pretty empty as of now).

tag list: @littlecrookedheart, @femmeshep, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @zaffrenotes, @teamtomsato, @pixieferry

#europeanguy #gotta gogh #part 5.2 #maxwell x nadia #maxwell beaumont #nadia park #trr #the royal romance #pm #perfect match #fan fiction #fluff #angst #au #canon divergence #long post #europeanguy fic #YAAAAAAY ITS OVER

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bigboobshaunt · 5 years

Text

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Owain/Brady smut, a commission for an anonymous client

~2k words

Commission info

On Ao3

“’Twas a cold and stormy night when the lonesome hero staggered back through the deep, dark forest, breaching the town’s borders. The pungent blood of his enemies still dripped down his sword, being washed ever slowly by the falling rain, but the man did not concern himself with such trifling matters… he had to report his victory to the townsfolk, and he planned to see it through!”

“Is it time for my part yet?”

“Psst, no, not yet! I’ll signal it to you when it is, don’t worry!”

“Sorry, I forgot… yer stories can be weirdly engrossing sometimes.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, and I’ll even ignore the ‘sometimes’ part… but anyways, as I was saying! Ahem… The hero’s legs grow more and more tired, his muscles suddenly seem to weigh like lead... but he is unflinching in his walk. The deed is done, but his quest is not yet truly over before he notified the person who asked that of him in the first place...”

Conspicuously, Owain pointed his index finger at his lover, who cleared his throat before giving off his clearly rehearsed dialogue. “O brave hero with the dark countenance, is it you I spy in this humble church’s worn down gates? Have ya – I mean – have you returned safely from your task? Are the people of this small town truly safe from the er, Battling Brigands of the Bloodthirsty Beast?”

“Heeeey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh!”

“I promised that only IF ya workshopped the name a lil’ more. Didja forget?”

“I suppose you win this one, but... back to the story… Yes, your holiness, I have vanquished the great evil that assailed all of the honorable and fair people of this town! Never again shall you know fear like this. Never again shall you have to lock your doors at night, send your children away in the night, nor lock up your most prized of possessions… and for that I, too, am thankful. I wish, however, that I could say I was unharmed, but that is not so… Fate seems to have seen fit to brand me with this wound in my stomach, and I am afraid I am not long for this world… but it pains me none to go, knowing you shall sleep safely from now on.”

“Please, brave hero, don’t say things like that! Here… I can nurse you back to health, if you follow me to my chambers. I couldn’t bear to lose a soul as noble as yours, especially after such a great deed! I shall devote my all to you until you are safe from harm, just as you have done for us… and for me.”

Grabbing Brady’s left hand, Owain squeezed it and gently lifted it closer to his lips, placing the softest of kisses on the back of it. “O kind priest… your words touch me deeply, stoking the very fires of my soul which slumber in my chest. I’ll accept your offer on the condition that you allow me to stay here after I get better… I would like to help with rebuilding this church and this town. They should shine brightly, as warmly as its inhabitants and as beautiful as you.”

Though such effusive praise was being given to a fictionalized version of himself, Brady couldn’t help but to give Owain a small smile, added to by the pink coloration that began to show on his cheeks.

Tenderly, Brady let go of Owain’s hand and trailed down Owain’s body, undoing the buttons on his nightshirt with dexterous fingers, trained by years of violin practice.

“Impressed by my physique, I see? You needn’t say a thing – it is only within my obligations as a wandering hero to keep my body in top shape, and ensure that I am always ready for combat… I will once again be in peak condition after you finish patching m-” Owain stopped in the middle of his speech, surprised at the look his partner had given him.

Before he knew it, Brady had bridged the gap between them, and he kissed him voraciously. Feeling the healer’s hands cup his pectorals, Owain moaned into the sudden kiss, trying his best to match Brady’s sudden hunger for him.

“Heh… I’m not sure the hero and the priest would start off like this so soon, but I’m certainly not complaining,” Owain snorted, burying his nose in Brady’s neck, embracing him tightly and taking a whiff of the man’s scent.

“Ya don’t know how impatient the priest can get… waitin’ in an empty church, worryin’ ‘bout the hero… specially if he already had feelings for ‘im before.”

“Even with all of my practice… I can’t match up to your artistic touch. You’re a genius, Brady! Backstory! It’s exactly what this tale needs! A slow burn romance between its title characters… I am sure that I can make it happen...” Owain said, sweetly gazing into Brady’s eyes before they kissed again.

Fondling Owain’s plush chest with one hand, Brady used the other one to untie his own nightshirt, finishing that by pulling down his bottoms and freeing his desperate erection.

“Now then… shall I tell you of how I got said wound? I was there, right in the middle of the brigands’ hideout and I knew I must have been getting closer to their boss’ room. When the heat of battle subsided, and silence reigned, I walked atop the goons’ fallen bodies to reach a-”

Without warning, Brady pushed Owain down onto his back, and with a determined tug, he pulled down his husband’s undergarments, licking his lips at the sight of the exposed cock before him, as though he had just found an oasis after being stranded in a desert for weeks.

Leaning closer, Brady dragged his tongue down Owain’s body, starting at his shapely pecs and making his way down the toned, strong abs before arriving at his lower body. Brady wasted no time before pressing Owain’s well-endowed member against his face, nuzzling its length and giving it quick pecks.

Burying his nose at the base of it, where the cock met the balls, Brady sniffed his lover’s privates deeply, taking in their unique scent, which only served to heighten his own arousal. Taking one of Owain’s balls into his mouth, Brady sucked on it, closing his eyes as he tasted the wonderful, salty taste of the sac, which while he loved, he knew it couldn’t compare to another of Owain’s tastes that he hoped to try that night...

Looking up, he noticed how Owain’s face seemed frozen in surprise, and he knew he had to perform expertly and give his all to satisfy. Diligently, Brady wrapped a hand around the mast of Owain’s cock and pulled down the man’s rather tight foreskin, exposing the previously concealed mushroom head.

Vividly, Brady remembered a saying he had heard, that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach… and though he understood what it meant, he had to disagree. The way to hold their attention was definitely through the tip of his cock.

Drawing the head into his mouth, Brady gave it the most thorough of licks, covering all its surface with his saliva and then sucking on it with gusto. Owain’s cock was another of his favorite tastes, and he was determined to treat both himself and his beloved.

Making a show of it, Brady removed the head from his mouth with an audible pop, before giving the entire length of the member a lick – from Owain’s balls, covered with a dusting of blond fur, to the wide tip, which was perfect for spreading out his ass for the thick shaft to come whenever it entered him.

“Oh, Brady… gods,” Owain let out, cursing under his breath as his husband worked on his shaft with his lips and tongue.

Chuckling at the thought of having managed to get Owain himself lost in his roleplay’s script, Brady gave the slit atop Owain’s cockhead a final, teasing lick before he opened up his mouth to swallow more of its size.

No matter how often they fucked, handling Owain’s girth was never truly easy. Brady could feel tears escape the corners of his eyes as he fought his gag reflex. He was not going to back down now. Not before he showed Owain what he was capable of.

Working Owain’s shaft deeper into his throat, Brady massaged his own aching cock, his hand gliding much more smoothly once his fingers and his member were wet with pre cum. He moaned to the best of his abilities, given Owain’s member was still in his mouth.

Pulling it out almost felt unnatural, like his mouth did not feel right when Owain’s throbbing dick wasn’t in it. Not wanting to go without it much longer, Brady caught his breath and swallowed the wet member once more.

Throwing his head back, Owain grabbed a fistful of Brady’s hair, calling out to a multitude of gods when the man sped up his rhythm for bobbing his head up and down the thick shaft.

Feeling his own release draw near, Brady felt a surge of happiness course through his body as he conquered his own gag reflex, being met with a face-full of Owain’s musky dark blond pubes when he finally managed to deepthroat his beloved.

“Fuck my mouth… please,” Brady whispered when he withdrew the member from his mouth. Forcing himself to say such a naughty line may have been difficult for him in any other context, but it was made easier by how prompt Owain was to comply.

Still holding on to Brady’s gelled, spiky hair, Owain pressed the man’s face against his crotch and bucked into it, being careful not to start too roughly, but slowly building the strength of his thrusts until his balls began to slap against Brady’s chin.

Brady knew he would choke on Owain’s cock and then still thank him, had he been rougher to start with, but the tender approach his husband had, which extended to even something as flagrantly sexual as this, was yet another of Brady’s favorite things about his man.

The way Owain’s cock tasted and the way it twitched inside his mouth, coupled with the rapid nature of the thrusts and the physicality of them, the proximity to Owain’s skin and its scent… Brady could no longer resist and his fast stroking of his own cock lead to his seed splattering onto their sheets.

Pulling himself away from the middle of the swordsman’s muscular thighs, Brady gasped for air and stuck out his tongue, looking up expectantly at Owain as he brought himself closer to the tip of Owain’s cock.

Making a fist around his cock, Owain slapped it softly against Brady’s cheeks, only then noticing the drool that had dripped down the corners of Brady’s mouth.

Pointing his erection towards Brady’s tongue, Owain pleasured himself, feeling how much more sensitive Brady’s blowjob had made his member. He only needed to jerk his cock for a few dozen times before his seed landed on his husband’s tongue and on his face.

Swallowing the plentiful load, Brady used his fingers to find the remaining droplets, which he then licked clean. “So… do ya think I can improvise?”

In lieu of a reply, Owain extended his hand to Brady, pulling him into an impassioned, hungry kiss.

Afterwards, Brady rested his head on Owain’s plump, sweat-covered chest, hearing his beloved’s heartbeats slowing down to a steadier rhythm and feeling as though he was listening to the most calming symphony.

“You caught me… with my guard down this time… next time I’ll be the one who surprises you during roleplay. Mark my words… my love.”

Snorting, Brady sighed contentedly, drifting off to sleep with the most pleasant of smiles upon his lips.

#Owain #Brady #Udobure #FE13 #my writing #first fic of the year - I think I started off pretty well!

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snowedinpodcast · 3 years

Audio

Transcript and content warning below the cut!

Let’s Walk: Kind of Stillness [Transcript]

[Content Warning: in-depth descriptions of bodily coldness]

There’s something about being physically cold that’s so upsetting. Like, there’s kind of a sweet spot to it, I think. Right now, my right hand is half-numb—like, the ring finger and the pinky finger? If I move them, I can just about feel them, but that's it, and then the rest of my hand—the middle finger, pointer finger, thumb—are, like, burning? Like, they’re so cold they’re hot, y’know? So they are not numb, they are having a bad time, and I feel like the numbness is that kind of sweet spot. It’s like oh, my hands are so cold that they don’t even register how cold they are, so I am not in discomfort. This is fine.

But it takes … an hour? Maybe 30 minutes? To get there, to that numbness sweet spot. And then, like, moving your whole hand feels really strange ‘cause you can barely—your hand barely registers that muscles are moving ‘cause they’re numb. So … it’s like, it’s comforting in that it’s not physically uncomfortable but it’s upsetting in that you’re watching your hand move but you’re not feeling your hand move … and then it’s like an alien creature has inhabited your arm or something. [Laughs]. It’s bad! It’s bad, don’t love it. Um, but also do love it, weirdly. I prefer the numb feeling to the burning. My left hand is entirely burning, so that’s great.

Um … there is something a bit settling about being cold, though. Like, physically cold, once you hit the numb point. Because it sort of feels like a kind of stillness. When you’re hot, there is also a kind of stillness, but you’re, like, sweating, y’know? You’re, like, laying on your bed … just … pouring liquid out of your pores [laughs] and it’s sticky, and it’s uncomfortable, and where, like, your arm lays close to your body, there is more heat ‘cause both your chest and your upper arm are in close contact with each other. And so that—like, the heat enveloping both of them overlaps, so there’s points of heat where your limbs connect that you just can never do anything about ‘cause you can’t disconnect them. Whereas when you’re all-over numb and cold, you’re all-over numb and cold. It’s not more cold or less cold in any one specific place. When your whole body gets to that stage … your whole body gets to that stage. Or, more specifically, ‘cause, like, you tend to keep your core and your neck and your head warm—or else you’ll die—but, like, when your extremities all reach the same level of numb-cold, that is the best. That is the best. That is the kind of stillness that I go for. And it’s settling. But I hate the process of getting there.

I also hate the process of getting out of that kind of stillness … because when your hands are numb to the point where they’ve registered that the coldness surrounding you is like room-temperature-level or is acceptable hand temperature, bringing your hands back up to room temperature is upsetting to them! Your fingers swell up, they don’t know what they’re doing! They’re like, why have you done this? I thought we just re-established a new normal room temperature! And I’m like, well, we’re inside now, and I want to draw. Like, that’s the thing, when my fingers are, like, numb-burning—either going through the process of becoming fully numb or coming out of that process and readjusting to room temperature—your fingers puff up, they burn a little bit, and, like, their movements are not as precise. So I can’t draw. You don’t know how many times I have come home from school—high school—and just wanted to freaking draw. But I can’t. And I have to sit abjectly by the fireplace, sticking my hands out, until my hands are done warming up to the point where I can hold a pencil and make confident strokes. [Laughs]. It’s upsetting! Oh my gosh. But anyway, yeah.

And I also haven’t felt numb-cold in a while because I spend most of the year in Washington state … going to university. Which I won’t be doing after this semester and then the one after it. Terrifying. We’re not gonna think about that right now. Being a senior is such a liminal experience. It’s a whole year of, just, being in-between places. If you think senior year of high school is weird—which it is, it’s very weird—ah, try senior year of college. Yeah. I’ll bet you, like, the last year before retirement is also weird—although I don’t know if you know that as certainly as you know it with high school and college. ‘Cause you gotta go somewhere after senior year but people can technically retire whenever they want to as long as they’re financially able to do so. I guess if you were keeping really strong track of your finances and you were like, yes, by the end of the next five years I will be able to have enough money to retire at this facility that I’ve researched intensely or on this island that I bought, whatever it is, whatever … [laughs] whatever percent … whatever tax bracket you’re in …

If you earn over $100,000 a year, you should just be eaten—[laughs], no. You should have whatever other income you get on top of that skimmed off and donated. Maybe you can pick the charity you want to donate it to, how ‘bout that. That’ll make it feel a bit less like the government is strangling you but … like, as suspicious [as] I am of governmental structures and as frustrating I find it that bureaucracy slows everything down … millionaires cannot be trusted. Capitalism and its free-for-all, laissez-faire bullshit is going to favor … corner-cutting, rich, trust-fund baby types who have not read enough intersectional feminist theory to make informed decisions with their money. If you’re a shrewd businessperson who doesn’t have an ethical bone in your body, who chooses to ignore ethical considerations, you are going to trash this planet [and exploit workers]. That is how we got here. So I need there to be something that holds the millionaires accountable for themselves. If I have to side with the US government to fight the millionaires … I guess I just have to do it, man. I guess I just have to do it.

‘Cause at least with the government, to some degree, you can vote people in. Not trying to say that there aren’t biases there that shut out people of color—women of color—and favor, y’know, the third Kennedy kid, whatever his name was. Like yeah, yeah—voting people in, having democratic representatives still isn’t perfect. But at least the people have some kind of say, unlike with millionaires. Like, you just become a millionaire or you don’t, like, you have that million dollar idea and it takes off but you haven’t been vetted—like, you haven’t … you, you don’t have to qualify to be an ethical human in order to reach millionaire status. Whereas if you’re going to be representing your, your district, your state, the country at large as one of the Supreme Court Justices, you need to do a lot of proving yourself worthy of that title to the people you represent before you get there. And I think that is better than nothing. [Sigh]. It’s definitely better than just millionairehood and the wacky ways in which that sorts itself out. God, I’m cold.

How did we get here, how did we start talking about millionaires? God, I’m cold. Oh yeah, it’s retirement and the last year of retirement and how that must feel weird. I’m sure it does … “but not as good as me!” “Left, left, left my wife and 49 children without any gingerbread. Think I did right. Right? Right, by my—”

I love that I can just quote … random passages from my favorite books that I read as a kid. It doesn’t even necessarily have to fit whatever I’m thinking, I can just call up exactly how the actor hired to read the audiobook read those lines and just play them in my head and then imitate them to the best of my ability with my own voice and it’s just instantly funny? I don’t know why it’s funny. Maybe it’s not so much that it’s funny but it’s comforting? And it’s a little silly ‘cause it obviously sounds different in my head than how I’m able to replicate it ‘cause my voice is not the same voice as the people who read the audiobooks for these stories, but … and then there’s also a bit of humor in, like, just randomly spouting a phrase that has no connection to what I was just thinking ... but that still feels right somehow. Like, the reason that “left, left, left my wife and 49 children” fit that moment was because it is comforting to me as a human, it did not fit with the subject matter of what I was talking about. So it fit for a different reason, and these incongruent contexts in which the conversation I was just having and this quote still somehow fit with, like, me as a human … that’s just weird! The contrast is weird! And weird things make ya laugh. [Laughs]. I don’t know, dude, trying to explain humor is like, … god … if you ever wanna watch an English major—er, a Lit major—froth at the mouth, ask them to explain a joke … and they will fall over themselves.

Ok, great. Thanks for that, thanks for that. I love you. [Tongue click].

#this puppy was recorded on 201103 #no songlyric this time around bc this was a spontaneous recording! im kind of glad tbh #i never want to feel stuck in a format #rules that are guidelines work best for me yknow #snowed in podcast #snowedinpodcast #sip #oh yeah the book quote at the end is from Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson #kind of stillness

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