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allbark-no-bite · 4 months

Text

i’ve been meaning to tell you.

icemav (wc: 4.4k)

summary: to love a man is to tear the other apart and ruin each other ruthlessly. OR the fic Ice’s dad is the worst and Maverick loves Ice anyway

warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of violence, blood, homophobia, and vomiting

authors note: i’m sorry guys, the little gay pilots just do it for me. apologies for the half ass ending. title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘seven’

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What a lot of people tend to forget about Maverick Mitchell is that he grew up a younger brother. So not only was his old man knocking him around— that is when he was actually around— but his older brother too. Mav had to learn how to defend himself by whatever means necessary, whether that meant kicking and screaming or taking a swing. He's got just as much scrappiness in his body as a hungry stray dog. It tends to get him in trouble.

Today in the locker room is no different.

They've all just been released from training for the day and have flocked to the locker room to shower. Today's flight didn't go particularly well for Maverick, but that's not totally unusual. They all have bad days, and he's just so happened to fall upon a streak of bad luck. But unfortunately enough, a bad day in the air for Maverick means a good day in the air for Tom Kazansky. And the blonde pilot is not about to let him forget it.

The shit-talking begins the moment Maverick enters into the locker room. He intentionally allows the door to swing shut behind him in the feeble hope that it will catch the pilot who is hot on his heels behind him.

Much to his disappointment, Ice catches it with his palm right before it hits him in his perfect face. "You're pathetic, honestly, Mitchell. I mean were you even trying out there? I got a lock on you faster than if it was my grandma flying out there."

"Isn't your grandma dead?" is the comment that comes from the obnoxiously tall, lumbering oaf of a man beside him.

Has he also mentioned that he hates Slider's dumbass face? He's nothing but a dick with legs. Maverick is beginning to think the RIO shares a brain cell with his pilot because he's never heard Ice say something without Slider parroting along with his own smart ass comment.

The remark is too much for Goose— who Maverick is constantly having to remind himself that he adores— and even at the expense of his best friend, can't contain himself. He latches onto Maverick's shoulder in an attempt to keep himself upright whilst his head falls back into the shrieking laugh that is reminiscent of his call sign. If Slider wasn't so insufferably stupid, Maverick might would hate him a little bit for it. Instead he shoves his spindly RIO away from him and slams his locker shut to face Ice.

"You know, maybe if I screwed up your face, Slider here wound't be so keen to kiss your ass all of the time."

Ice takes a step towards him so that they're face to face, even if he does have to look down to be eye level with the brunette pilot. Maverick has to shove down the urge to rise up on his toes just so that they're even. He would never hear the end of that. So instead he plants his feet into the ground and steels himself against Ice's looming presence.

Ice sneers down at him, bearing his teeth just how he does when he smiles, taunting and cocksure. "We'll have a go when you learn how to make a fist, Mitchell."

Maverick smirks. "Wouldn't you like that, Kazansky?" His green eyes are blazing with what anyone watching might would interpret as righteous anger. He and Ice both know it's something else. It's all a game. A game that is so synchronized and well rehearsed that neither of them are willing to give it up just yet. Because when you know the rules, when you know just what buttons to push without it blowing up in your face, the game is safer that way.

It took them a while to get to this point, to realize that they didn't actually hate each other. There was a lot of growing pains and moments of uncomfortable realization. Mav came into Topgun with a chip on his shoulder and everything to prove, and then there was Ice, who had it all. He was charismatic and smart and funny— everything Maverick was without the debilitating strain of an estranged father who fucked off into the sky one day and never returned. And Maverick hated him for that. Hated him until he walked into the locker room one day and heard Ice's dad screaming at him over the phone.

"—no goddamn son of mine will call themselves a homosexual. As long as you have my last name—"

Ice had hung up as soon as he heard Maverick behind him, choking out a "Look, I have to go, Dad. I'm sorry— Yes, sir. Yes sir, I understand. Bye."

Maverick had just stood there at first, pretending he didn't see Ice wiping his eyes, didn't even comment as Ice cleared a sob from his throat. After that Ice just stood there staring at him, as though just waiting for Maverick to bring it up.

Finally, Maverick just laughed. "Guess we both have some pretty mean old men," was all he said. He never brought up the part about Ice's dad calling him a homosexual, but after that it was just kinda understood.

Ice was gay.

And that— that changed everything. They were still always at each other's throats. Still taunted and teased and took things too far, only for a different reason now. With DADT in place, it was the only thing they could do.

It's just that now they've been playing this game for far too long, without it ever resulting to anything, and the tension between them has built up thick enough to be cut by a knife.

Ice seems to realize this because he somehow grins even wider. "C'mon then. What're you waiting for, Mitchell?" He adds, "Hell, I'm sure you could do it if you tried hard enough."

Maverick passes his tongue over the bridge of his teeth, and turns his head away, as if he's contemplating the invitation. To everyone around them, it looks as though Maverick's going to backdown. Really, it's to conceal the smile that has crept onto his face. Everyone should know by now that it's not like him to backdown from a challenge.

As his best friend and RIO, Goose should have seen this one coming.

Just when it looks like he's going to step away, Maverick shifts his weight on his heels and swings. Ice flinches back just a fraction of a second too late, and Maverick's fist connects with the left side of his jaw. It sends a shock ricocheting back through Maverick's arm and radiates from his knuckles all the way up to his elbow. Because the blonde pilot does have some size on him, it's not enough to send him toppling over, but Ice does have to catch himself, his hand lifting up to grab his jaw once he recovers.

It feels so good that Maverick hardly notices the clamor of the other pilots around them or Goose grabbing at the sleeve of his flight suit. He watches as Slider and Sundown rush over to help Ice, but he shrugs them off. When he straightens, there's a mar of red on his jaw where Maverick's fist had been, and his bottom lip is busted, already swelling up purple and staring to bleed.

Maverick stares at him, breathing hard in satisfaction. Despite the pain that is still sparking though his knuckles, he knows he's not above the rules of chivalry, and he offers Ice his hand—

—And finds himself sprawled out on the ground a mere second later. He must blackout for a moment because when he comes to, Ice is crouched down in front of him and there's pain pulsing from his cheekbone. Maverick squeezes his eyes shut, already feeling the beginnings of a migraine, and he wonders if he might have a concussion. Now that would really be something.

When he opens his eyes, Ice is still in front of him. The blonde pilot is smirking, his blue eyes alight with amusement despite just having been nailed in the face. "I warned you didn't I, Mitchell?"

Most of the attention their fight had originally drawn has dispersed, the pilots around them likely sensing that Ice had dutifully settled the score and that there was no more to be seen. Ever faithful, Goose is lingering just a few steps away, waiting to intervene should he be needed.

Slowly, he looks back to the pilot crouched before him. As much as Maverick hates to say it, Ice looks good when he's a little roughed up.

"Is that really all you've got?" he manages. What he means is, I'd let you punch me any day of the week if only it meant that we got to be this close.

"Maverick—" comes Goose's worried sounding voice of reason.

Ice just smiles, humoring him. "Tell you what, Mitchell. If you can even stand up straight, we'll go again."

They both know that's not going to happen. His head is pounding so hard right now that he might would be sick if he tried to stand up. Still, Maverick snarls at him comically though the pain. "Coward." But there's no bite to it.

Again, all Tom can do is smile. "C'mon," he says. He offers Maverick his hand and pulls him to his feet, throwing the brunette pilot's arms around his shoulders to take on most of his weight. "Let's go find you some ice."

Goose can only shake his head and watch them go.

And that was how it went. That was how they got by without losing their minds. If they couldn't love each other then they'd hate each other enough to make up for it.

They both know the risks. One wrong word and they're dead. All it takes is for the wrong person to hear the wrong thing, interpret an interaction the wrong way.

No one talks about it but everyone know what happens to sailors who let on that they're too friendly with their shipmates. Maverick's heard it before, some poor lieutenant screaming in the middle of the night, drug from his own bed and beaten until he's unrecognizable, and all you can do is roll over and pray for the screaming to stop. Because if you intervene you're just as guilty.

It happens more often than anyone would think, the Navy just keeps quiet about it. It's called don't ask don't tell for a reason.

It's probably the same reason as to why no one has questioned the fact that the Iceman has not once gone home with a girl from the O-Club in the entire six weeks that they have been stationed at Topgun.

His disinterest is almost comical. At any given second of the night, the blonde pilot has got girls crawling all over him. There is almost always one hanging off of his arm, gazing up longingly at him as he tries not to spill his drink, another with a delicate hand to his chest as she giggles and laughs at something he didn't even think was that funny.

Ice doesn't seem to mind the attention, but he doesn't care to feed into it either. Not even the feel of the girl to his left placing her hand a little too high up on his thigh is enough to stir his dick in his pants. It's been a long time since he's been with a girl, probably since his freshman year at the academy. Before he realized that he was gay. And even if he was hankering to get laid, which he isn't, he wouldn't consider taking one of them home. Unlike a lot of guys at the bar, he had morals, and that meant not pretending to be into it with some poor girl just to get his dick sucked.

Regardless, Maverick thinks it's really fucking distracting.

Them with their wandering hands all over Ice, it really makes his blood boil. Who were they to get to touch him like that in front of everyone.

Ice glances over and their eyes lock for a brief moment. Cheeks flaming, Maverick has to tear his eyes away. He hadn't realized he was staring until Goose swings an arm over his shoulder and places a beer in his hand. "You keep staring and he's going to come over here and beat your ass again."

Maverick sputters. "Wha—? I wasn't—"

Smiling knowingly, Goose pats his chest. "I'm just saying. No one's going to say anything about two guys having a drink together at the bar. But if you keep up with whatever the hell all of this sexual tension filled staring is about, people are going to notice and he's going to knock your lights out for real this time."

Maverick glares at him. Goose had figured out that Maverick was bi pretty early on, way back in their roommate days at the academy, but it had taken him until last week in the locker room to realize that the brunette pilot's apparent hate for his wingman was really just a hopeless middle school crush disguised by toxic masculine bravado. Now Goose has taken it upon himself to get them together. Of course that's what any good best friend would do, but if Goose has to watch the two of them flirt with each other like a bunch of sexually frustrated peacocks any longer, he might wash his own eyes out with bleach.

"Now here's what I suggest you do—"

"Maverick."

Freezing, they both slowly turn around. Maverick already knows who it is. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

Ice is standing behind them, a fresh beer in his hand. The girls from earlier are now nowhere to be seen, Maverick notes. "Ice," is all he says back, every other word in his vocabulary seemingly lost.

Really, if Goose hadn't just been in the backseat of a multimillion dollar aircraft that Maverick was flying just a few hours before, he would think the man was incompetent. Goose pats Maverick's chest before removing his arm from around his shoulders and excusing himself. "Guess that's my queue to leave, kids. I'll be over there. Way, way, over there." Before Maverick can stop him, he's disappearing into the sea of white by the bar.

And then it's just them standing together off to the side of the bar.

Ice clears his throat. "You wanna step outside, get some air?"

And because he doesn't know how else to respond to that, because he's certainly not going to tell him no, he shrugs. "Sure."

They walk outside together, or more like Maverick follows Ice out like a confused looking duckling, and Ice brings them to a stop just in front of the railing of the porch. And then he just stands there, looking out into the parking lot. Maverick lingers a few paces behind him, wondering whether or not he's supposed to join him. He tries to tell himself to relax because like Goose said, there's nothing wrong with two guys having a drink together, and maybe that's all that this is, but it certainly hadn't felt like it when they made eye contact back in the bar.

Finally, Ice asks, "Mitchell, your old man ever hit you for no good reason?" The way he asks it, it feels more like a confession than a question.

Shoulders dropping, Maverick lets out a breath of air that he'd been holding onto, and it kinda comes out as an amused laugh. "Yeah, man... Y'know sometime I think he did it just for fun. My brother too."

For the first time since they've walked outside, Ice glances sideways at him. "You've got a brother?"

"Yeah, I was younger by like six years though."

Ice's mouth twitches up into a smile. "That explains a lot."

Maverick shoves him, not hard, but it's enough to make the blonde pilot beside him sway a little to the side as he moves to lean against the railing beside him. Once Ice settles, they're shoulder to shoulder, their sides pressed into each other. Too close for explanation should someone question them.

"What about your old man?" Mav asks. He's not sure he would have ever brought up Ice's father under normal circumstances but this isn't a normal conversation.

Ice just shakes his head. "We don't talk all that much anymore unless he's calling to yell at me... You heard."

Maverick nods, taking in what Ice is telling him in. Of course he's known or at least assumed all of these things, but it's different hearing them out loud.

"Maverick, you know I'm... That's why my dad—"

Maverick straightens and Ice stops talking and follows him, the two pilots turning to face each other.

"You trying to tell me something, Iceman?" Maverick asks, smothering a smile.

Although they're not quite the same height, they're eye to eye, and for once it feels like they're equals. Ice's blue eyes glint dangerously.

Maverick's heart is pounding in his chest.

"It's Tom. And yeah, maybe I'm trying to tell you something."

In the barely lit front porch of the bar, where he's sure no one can see them, Maverick reaches out to touch him. His fingers skim along the crisp white fabric of Tom's uniform, tentative at first, until he's sure he is actually going to let him touch him. When the blonde pilot doesn't immediately pull away, Maverick's fingers curl into the fabric at his side, tugging him forcefully closer so that their bodies are pressed together and he can lean up to connect their mouths. As if equally as prepared to reciprocate the kiss, Tom's hands fist into Maverick's uniform, half untucking his shirt in the process. Their mouths clash together, forcing the other open while their tongues fight for a taste.

There's nothing glamorous about it. Maybe if they hadn't been so desperate for this moment it would have been, but there no stopping them now. Ice kisses him with every ounce of emotion that he's been keeping inside, and Maverick reciprocates it with the same vigorousity, chasing after his mouth when Ice draws away for a breath. No sooner than he does and they're kissing again.

Ice is so engrossed in the taste of Maverick's mouth, the warmth of his swollen lips, that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels Maverick's palm at his crotch. He doesn't even have the time to be embarrassed when the other pilot snickers at him because his dick is reminding for the first time in months that it actually works. Ice's hips roll into Maverick's palm, begging for more.

If Maverick had been waiting for permission, Ice's response is all he needs. He palms him again, firmer this time, and feels Ice hardening in his hand. At the same time, Maverick runs his tongue along the pout of Ice's bottom lip, catching it gently between his teeth when Ice groans into his mouth. His hand rubs at the now bulging crotch of Ice's uniform, and it makes the blonde's hip stutter.

Maverick is pushing him back, polished black shoes walking forward, one between Ice's legs to nudge him backwards and the other one flanking his hip. He's still all over Ice, mouthing sloppily at whatever is within kissing distance, his hand groping at Ice's dick through his pants, the other fisting his blonde hair, both of them breathing hard.

Ice's body is on fire.

It's like something primal takes over him, and before Maverick can back him against the railing, the fists he has clenched at Maverick's chest shove the brunette backwards. Ice follows, the wall catching Maverick before he can stumble completely backwards, and Ice reconnects their mouths without a moment to recover. His teeth catch at Maverick's jaw, scraping against skin until Maverick finds his mouth again in a bruising kiss.

It's a type of madness that Ice feels. It's uncontrollable and burning through his veins, every muscle in his body. Every neuron in his brain is more alive than it's ever been. It's been a long time since he's had anything this good. Because you can't do this with a woman. You can't ravage her, tear her apart the same way you can a man. You have to be considerate and thoughtful and slow. You have to attend to a woman, practice and play her like an instrument.

It's an art.

This is a whole other beast.

It's adrenaline rushing, being intimate with someone who is your equal in just about every way. It's as vulnerable as rolling over to show your belly to someone as dangerous as yourself and trusting them not to tear you apart. Someone who's after the same high as you. Someone who won't take any of your shit.

Ice gives it and Maverick gives it right back, teeth biting, lips sucking, fingers bruising. They're so close that Ice can feel the slide of muscle against his chest as Maverick breathes, his chest expanding wide with every breath. He's sucking a bruise into Maverick's throat, swirling his tongue against the other pilot's flushed skin and tasting iron.

Maverick's fingers find the button of his pants, the zipper, and then he's slipping his hand inside. Ice hisses at the intrusion of Maverick's cold fingers into his boxers, his dick jumping at the contact. Maverick wraps a hand around his throbbing cock and tugs upwards. A strangled sound leaves Ice's chest. He repeats the motion, this time using some of the precome leaking down Ice's shaft to obtain more of a gliding motion. With the lubrication, he falls into more of a rhythm, enabling Ice to match it with the rut of his hips.

Every jerk of Maverick's hand makes a sickening sucking sound, and something in the back of Ice's mind tells him he should be worried about someone hearing them. It invites a sort of adrenaline-filled fear within him. The same fear that flying gives him. Maverick swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, and he almost cries, the thought gone from his mind.

They haven't spoken this entire time but their noises of pleasure say enough. Ice is panting into the junction of Maverick's neck, muffling cries when he twists his wrist just enough to make Ice's jaw go slack.

One more tug of Maverick's hand around his pulsing cock and Ice's head goes fuzzy, followed by the most mind-shattering orgasm he's ever had flooding through him. He comes in Maverick's hand, spilling into his palm and the front of his boxers. When his coherence returns, the dead weight of his body is supported almost entirely by Maverick, almost certainly crushing him against the wall. The other pilot doesn't seem to mind, one hand around Ice's waist and the other lazily ghosting over Ice's flushed cock, sticky with come.

Ice's heart is pounding, and he's never felt more alive in his own body.

When he gets his bearings about him and the feel of Maverick stroking his sensitive cock becomes too much, he pulls away just so that there's a bit of space between them. Maverick lets him go, remaining with his back pressed against the wall.

Finally, Ice finds his voice. "Fuck, man."

He feels light headed and euphoric and full of bliss all at once.

Then his stomach churns. He's going to vomit.

Ice stumbles a few feet to lean over the side of the deck and retch, earlier's alcohol burning in his stomach. He heaves, the sudden burst of nausea coursing through him without warning. Stomach turning, Ice doesn't recall ever feeling this violently ill in his life.

When the nausea finally subside, there are tears in his eyes and an empty pit in his stomach that isn't from the vomiting. He doesn't trust himself to move away from the railing just yet, but he does look over his shoulder to find Maverick.

The brunette pilot is standing quietly behind him, a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He must have slipped inside and nabbed a few things from the bar. Ice isn't sure how he had the time to do that, but he also isn't sure how long he was bent over the railing puking his guts out.

This time he gasps out, "What the fuck was that, man?"

For some reason that Ice isn't following, Maverick chuckles. "That, my friend, was the best orgasm of your life. The thing that you're experiencing right now is called guilt."

When Ice just stares at him blankly, Maverick continues. "Happened to me too the first time I got with a guy. You spend your whole life being told that something is wrong, and then you get it and it's the best thing ever. Then you come down from the high and you're disgusted with yourself for enjoying it so much because you know you're not supposed to."

His dad's voice flashes through his mind.

Stomach churning again, Ice covers his face with his palms and groans. Maverick, who seems to be enjoying Ice's misery all too much, just chuckles again. "Here, sit down and drink this," and he holds out the opened bottle of water to Ice.

Ice, feeling too queasy to argue, removes his hands from his face and takes the bottle. He sits down on the front steps and Maverick follows. They sit shoulder to shoulder, once again too close should anyone come out and find them.

Hands clasped together in front of his knees, Maverick watches as Ice takes a few small sips of the water. He remembers feeling the way Ice is now all too well. Remembers the feeling of euphoria like never before, followed by the nausea and spiral downwards. If you think about it, it's kind of funny, having such a visceral reaction to something you want so bad.

Once Ice has gotten down about half of the bottle and no longer looks like he's going to vomit, Maverick continues. “This—thing—between us. Fuck, Ice, I want it. I want it so bad. And I know that this might be harder for you than it is for me because of your dad but—Tom, I want this.”

He hears Ice shudder out a breath beside him. He’s been awfully quiet this entire time, and for a moment Maverick thinks he’s going to refuse him. Instead the blonde pilot places a hand on Maverick’s knee, his thumb smoothing over it through the fabric of his pants. “Damn you, Mitchell.”

He’s smiling and Maverick laughs, a full body laugh that has his shoulders shaking as he leans further into Ice’s side. It’s one of the greatest laughs Ice has ever heard in his entire life.

#top gun maverick #top gun fic #topgun maverick #top gun iceman #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x iceman #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction

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bisonaari · 8 months

Note

This is an invitation for you to tell more about your finnish music obsession

I want to hear what artists you're enjoying and what you think about finnish music in general!

I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR THIS

Ok so I've mainly listened to UMK artists so far lol so bear with me

First of all, first introduction with finnish music in my life: when I was a teen, In the shadows by The Rasmus was my entire personnality. I've listened to that single so fucking much you have NO IDEA. My parents hate rock and metal, and they were my first introduction ever to music that was heavier than pop 💚 I'll forever be thankful for that

A few years ago my friends sent me some Beast in Black and I stopped counting how many times I've listened to Sweet True Lies and Blind and Frozen, those are just so good. I love the 80's inspiration in them and the singer's voice is absolutely incredible HE HAS THE RANGE. As I said in a previous post, gonna go see them live with my boss and her gf next saturday, they were coming to my city and we couldn't miss that 🤟

Notable mention to Lordi, Hard Rock Hallelujah will always slap

Then Käärijä arrived and I haven't been the same since lol. He made me want to listen to more music in finnish, because finnish has a rythm and melody that I hadn't heard before, and it adds something really unique to music that I really like, scratches my brain in the best way possible

First I found Jukka yt channel and he covered some Turmion Kätilöt and I swear that this band altered my brain chemistry they're just SO GOOD. They're a lot heavier that what I usually listen to but I truly don't mind because the mix of synths and heavy music and scream is just the right balance I absolutely adore what they do, and I think I'm gonna follow them for a long time

Then I started to listen to UMK music, first being Benjamin. Man, that guy's voice is so fucking angelic excuse me?? Illegal. I've listened to GAY about 200 hundred times in a row woops

Started to listen to Portion Boys as well right about the same time, and I have to say that I like most of their songs. Everytime I was pressing next on spotify I was like but that one is good as well? And so is that one?? And that one too??? Like I don't think that I've found a Portion Boys song that I truly dislike. The 80's vibes just stole my heart. Elämän ABC my beloved

Been listening to a bit of Kuumaa lately, and by that I mean that Tulipalo is my entire personnality woops I haven't listened to any other song in days

Sometime the past month I've been made aware of Seppo on bi and it's been plaguing my mind I hate it I love it

Got also some Antti Tuisku in there! Grindr Mayhem of course, but also En kommentoi. Some BESS with Ram Pam Pam because it SLAPS

I've also listened to @king-krisu 's finnish music essentials playlist, and I like most of the stuff on it? I need to pay better attention to exactly what songs I prefered but I really enjoyed most of the stuff in it

#and now I'm late to work BUT I JUST HAD TO #THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTION

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generalkenobi22 · 7 months

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Fic: it's weird, but it's ours (Being Human US) - Chapter 1

SUMMARY: A ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire walk into a house, and—have you heard this one before? They walk into a house—well, no, technically, they walk into a very close, very enabling, borderline co-dependent, group dynamic. Otherwise known as a family. But you know what they say about family: can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em because there aren't any readily accessible iron pokers, silver bullets, or wooden stakes on hand. Which is a good thing because the last thing they need on their hands is suspicion of murder when the neighbors already think the werewolf and the vampire are a couple. But the werewolf and the ghost? They're not sure what their dynamic is. They just know that it absolutely, 100% does not involve Feelings of any kind. ... Probably.

In typical fashion, I finally got around to watching Being Human (US) only a decade-ish after it aired and loved it. My toxic trait, though, is that if a dynamic is contentious, with even a hint of perceivable flirt-to-roast ratio, I will ship it. Which is how this Josh/Sally monstrosity came to be. I am nothing if not Fake Dating/Enemies to Lovers/Found Family trope trash.

Can also be found on AO3.

—————

It only takes about a week after they've moved into their house (Sally's house? They really haven't landed on that one yet) before the full neighborhood welcoming committee arrives on their stoop.

Josh isn't actually home to witness this. No, he finds out when he walks in the door after pulling two doubles and sees their living room filled with people. He barely has a moment to stash his backpack, let alone change out of his scrubs, before an older woman with a perm and a bad dye job corners him and starts talking his ear off.

The extra guests come bearing food, which is the only reason Josh doesn't kill (stake?) Aidan for not texting him a heads up. He uses his height to his advantage to scan the room until he finds Aidan... talking with two attractive girls (because of course he is). Josh tries to subtly signal to him, but Aidan either doesn't see him or is straight up ignoring him—honestly, either option seems in character at this point.

"You know," Perm/Bad Dye Job says to him, her voice filled with pride, "my grandson is gay."

"Uh-huh." Josh, admittedly, isn't listening. He's too busy trying to figure out how to get past the throng of people blocking him from where all the food is. Subsisting on NutriGrain bars and Red Bulls for the last few days has him ravenously hungry.

He politely excuses himself and fights his way over to the table. Just as he finishes piling a plate high with buffalo chicken dip and some kind of vegan chocolate chip cookies (among other things), the older woman is back at his side.

"He's Jewish, too," she tells him. Off his confused look, she adds, "My grandson."

"Ah." Josh isn't really sure what to do with this information, so he shovels some food into his mouth.

"He brought home a nice boy for Seder last year," she continues, oblivious. "He's a third-year law student at BU. And so handsome!"

She winks at him after this proclamation, and now Josh really has no clue what to do with this incredibly weird info dump. Like, good for him—Josh is obviously supportive—but he (Josh, not the grandson) doesn't know why he's being looped in on any of it.

He settles for giving Perm/Bad Dye Job what he hopes is a normal smile (but is likely the one Emily has said makes him look completely unhinged) and a nervous laugh.

Thankfully, he's saved from further embarrassment when Aidan (finally) approaches them, a young but otherwise unremarkable man and woman in tow. He glances at Josh briefly before directing his attention (and full charm offensive) to Perm/Bad Dye Job. "Excuse me, Mrs. Rosenberg—"

She tsks at him playfully. "Now, Aidan, what did I tell you?"

Aidan looks at the ground bashfully, then flashes her a bright (not completely unhinged) smile. "Aw, gee. You're right," he says. Like, he actually says 'gee,' as if he's straight out of an episode of Lassie. "Martha. Sorry. I'll get it next time. Promise."

Perm/Bad Dye Job—sorry, Martha—giggles. Giggles. Josh thinks it demonstrates phenomenal self-restraint that he doesn't roll his eyes (so hard they fall out of his head) at both of them.

"Now, if you'll excuse me a moment, Martha—" He makes a point of emphasizing her name, which she predictably eats right up before he turns back to Josh. Aidan slings an arm around his shoulders, which is... well, it's a little out of left field because Aidan's not a super touchy guy to begin with.

Josh idly wonders if he's drunk—he once had a roommate in college who got kind of handsy with everyone when he drank too much—before it occurs to him that he doesn't actually know if Aidan can get drunk. He's seen him drink, but... has he ever been drunk? Can vampires get drunk?

"Josh," Aidan's decidedly not drunk voice pulls him back to the present, "I want you to meet the Hendersons. This is Nate and his wife, Amanda. They're in the brownstone at the end of the block."

They exchange greetings and make small talk. Josh learns that they're both originally from Pennsylvania, but met at BC (her sophomore, his junior year) before moving to Boston permanently just after their wedding.

After some time, Nate shakes Josh's hand. "It's nice meeting you, Josh. And good seeing you, Martha. So sorry to interrupt."

"Oh, you didn't," Josh insists at the same time Martha informs them, "I was just telling him about Elijah."

Elijah? It takes Josh a minute to realize Elijah must be her gay, Jewish grandson.

"Uh, yeah," he stutters, desperate to somehow convey he wants no part in getting roped into talking with her, "but we—"

"Oh, right!" Amanda reaches out and touches his arm in a familiar, almost intimate way. Panicked, Josh eyes Nate, but Nate doesn't seem to think anything is out of line. "I think you both will like it here. The neighborhood is very accepting. Of everyone."

Josh is about to—who knows? Puff his chest out, establish his dominance? Something to prove to Nate that he's definitely—well, n-not an actual, but at least a potential—romantic threat. Except that Aidan pulls him closer to his side and resolutely refuses to meet his gaze.

"Aidan, what—?"

"Plus, it's great having another young couple on the block," Nate adds, to enthusiastic nods from Amanda.

Josh freezes. Suddenly, everything clicks: Martha's grandson info dump, the neighborhood being "accepting," Aidan's arm around his shoulder.

"Will you—will you excuse us?" Josh blurts, contorting out from under Aidan's grasp. "I have to talk to my roo... my, uh—Aidan. I have to talk to Aidan. Alone. In the kitchen."

Aidan's smile falters only slightly. "Greg, Amanda. Martha. Nice talking with y—"

"Aidan."

The moment the three of them disperse to mingle elsewhere, Josh wastes no time making his escape, Aidan close on his (metaphorical) tail.

"Listen, Josh—"

Josh turns on him as soon as they both step into the kitchen. "Why do—" He stops short, aware of a few guests standing too close for comfort. He grabs Aidan's arm and yanks him over to the corner, near the microwave. "Why do they think we're a couple?"

For some reason, Aidan looks visibly relieved by Josh's reaction rather than literally any other emotion that should be there. "I didn't say anything. Everyone just... assumed? Danny must have talked to a few of 'em."

"And you didn't think to correct them?"

"I was going to," Aidan concedes, "but listen—Listen! This could be a good thing."

Josh wants to scream. "Good for who?" He pauses, angrily considering. "Whom—? Never mind, I don't give a shit—good for who exactly, Aidan?"

"Good for us," he insists. Off Josh's incredulous look, he presses, "Think about—Josh, just think about it for a second. Two straight, single guys who live together, spend a lot of time together? That begs a lotta questions. But if we're a couple? No one bats an eye."

Josh opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it. Aidan's... not wrong. God, he hates that Aidan's not wrong. Still— "You... have a point. But why not just tell them we're brothers?"

Sally materializes right next to them, making herself comfortable on what little counter space they have. Josh jumps, still not used to her living (dying-then-residing-in-another-plane-of-existence... ing?) in the house yet.

She snorts. "Please." She gestures at Aidan, Vanna White-ing him. "Look at him! His face is all chiseled, like Mount Rushmore, or... or Handsome Squidward—"

Aidan frowns. "Handsome... what?"

"—No one's gonna believe he's related to you."

You meaning Josh, who apparently is so hideously deformed, he couldn't possibly live up to the god-like, Edward Cullen plane of physical beauty on which Aidan exists. (Though he will—grudgingly— give her points for Handsome Squidward because... now he can't unsee it).

He fixes what he hopes is his most pissed off look at Sally. "Oh, but they'll believe we're dating?"

She shrugs. "Sure. People date down all the time."

Josh can feel his face flush, equal parts humiliated and angry. Aidan cuts him off before he can say anything and comes to stand between both of them. "Hey, c'mon now."

The same two attractive girls from earlier are glancing curiously in their direction. Aidan takes hold of his (Josh's) hand and waves with his other one. For good measure, he flashes the girls the kind of smile Josh is sure belongs to someone who never had a two-year sex drought in over two centuries.

"If-If anything, I would be dating up," Aidan assures Sally, absent any sarcasm but still tonally a mix between hostage negotiator and children's TV show host. "I mean, Josh is a doctor—"

"Didn't go to med school." Why is Josh correcting him?

"—Right, uh, Josh could have been a doctor—"

From over Aidan's shoulder, Josh sees the attractive girls exchange an 'awww!' before they waggle their fingers and head back into the living room.

"—He's great with his sister, he... owns more than one sweater vest, and—And!" Aidan continues, clearly scrambling toward the end. "He's seen every episode of Nova."

"Yeah, okay—" When the coast is clear, Josh wrenches his hand out of Aidan's. "Stop patronizing me. Let's say we do this. What happens when I want to bring a girl back to the house—" Even in his periphery, he can see Sally grin, a retort clearly at the ready. He jabs a finger in her direction. "Don't. Aidan, what happens when one of us wants to bring a girl back, huh? What then?"

Aidan thinks about that for a moment... then shrugs. Josh groans. "I—Look, I don't know. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Aidan assures him. He looks over at Sally, who nods in agreement even though she's definitely not a part of this whole thing.

Josh takes a moment to think about it, to imagine any outlying repercussions they're not considering. Or, at least, to decide if the symptoms are worth taking the prescribed medication (so to speak). When he comes up blank, he blurts, "Fine. But I'm—we're not kissing."

"I—" Aidan breaks off, starts laughing. "I wasn't planning on it. Figured we'd stick to holding hands, or—Wait, were you?"

"No!" This is truly the weirdest conversation Josh has ever had. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, if anyone asks—"

"Eww," Sally contributes, completely ignoring him. "Why would they? Do you normally ask couples why they're not all over each other in public?"

"—If anyone gets suspicious," Josh amends, "we'll just..."

"Tell 'em we're not big into PDA," Aidan finishes.

Josh snaps his fingers. "Yes, exactly—that we, uh... we like to keep our private life private. At home."

"Hot." Sally fans herself. "Aidan and Josh sitting in a tree, keeping their private life private. K-I—"

"—L-L-I-N-G Sally again if she doesn't stop talking," Josh says through gritted teeth.

"Dude," Aidan bites out reproachfully at the same time Sally lets out a surprised gasp.

Josh feels his neck grow warm, like he's ten-years-old, back in Ithaca at JDS, and the instructor just caught him copying somebody else's work. Only, a lot worse.

"Yup, heard it as soon as I said it. Sally, I'm sorry." To his surprise, he actually means it. Even more surprising, when she gives him a small nod in acknowledgment, he feels... relieved.

Aidan considers both of them before looking out at the rest of the party. They've attracted a greater number of curious bystanders, none of whom are being very subtle."So," Aidan directs to Josh somewhat urgently, "what d'ya think? Are you in?"

"Yeah, seriously. You guys have been over here so long, everyone's going to think you're being super rude," Sally admonishes. She considers. "Or that you left to go hook up."

Josh can't take it anymore. He may regret this, but— "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes. I'm in."

Aidan claps him on the back and grins. He's a really good friend, Josh thinks. He's hard pressed to think of any other friend who would agree to move in with him and then fake date him in order to keep his werewolf transformations a secret. Before he can continue that train of thought, something occurs to him.

"Wait a minute," he protests as Aidan guides him back into the fray of the party. "Can we go back to the part where, apparently, one of my only three endearing qualities is that I own two sweater vests?"

Sally cackles behind them.

—

Three days exactly after Tony the sleazy 80s glam rock ghost—the one who taught Sally how to move from room to room just by thinking about it? Yeah, three days exactly after that guy (ghost?) walks through his door and disappears forever, there's an... incident.

Or, at least, that's what Aidan is calling it. But whatever. He wasn't there at the time of the... incident (ughhh), so he really shouldn't get to have a say. In Josh's completely unbiased opinion.

Anyway, it happens like this:

After three back-to-back Ripley's Believe It or Not reruns, Sally calls it. She's officially bored. Bored! With a capital "B."

Unwittingly, her thoughts drift to Danny (as they always do), and she feels—well, not really feels, since she can't feel anything anymore—the familiar ache in her chest. The one that spurs on desolate thoughts of what they had, what they could have been, and how her death was an unfairly finite end to all of it.

So, she tries (really, she does) to focus on something—literally anything—else. It works for a little while. She recalls almost turning the page in one of Aidan's massive, dusty books yesterday. (It was literally filled with old Red Sox rosters and various batting lineup statistics from the 1920s, as well as an excruciatingly dull analysis of how those were affected in 1912 when the team moved from the Huntington Avenue Grounds to Fenway).

Anyway, she knows for a fact that the book page fluttered. But maybe... she realizes it was probably the breeze coming in from the kitchen window. The one Josh forgot to close earlier.

Thinking about all of this reminds her that not only is she dead, but also that she's kind of sucking at this whole ghost thing. Two incredibly depressing thoughts to have, honestly. So, she switches gears and tries to recall how Tony taught her to move from room to room. It was supposed to work just like apparating in Harry Potter, right? Just visualize where you want to go, and poof, you're there?

She closes her eyes and pictures the kitchen, with the table and the sink full of dishes (seriously, only one of them eats—how are there so many?) and one of Aidan's used blood bags—wait, now she's just making a cleaning-to-do list. She starts at the beginning, clearing her mind, only thinking about Tony's instructions.

Let's see, he first appeared in their shower, and—ugh, she remembers thinking about how majestically gross his mullet was. Plus, with the way the light reflected off the porcelain tub, it looked like he had a halo, and—

"Oh, my God—Sally?!"

She startles, eyes flashing open, only to find herself practically face to face with Josh, who's standing under a torrent of shower spray, and, oh yeah—is completely naked.

"What are you doing in here?" he demands, horrified.

Sally is frozen to the spot. She tries to jam her eyes shut, just as he abruptly covers himself, but it's too late. She's literally seen too much. "I wasn't—I didn't come in here on purpose!"

"Well, could you get out of here on purpose?"

"Yeah. I-I mean, yes, I'm trying, but it's not—" She keeps trying to picture the wide, open space of the living room, but all she can think on repeat is Josh is naked, Josh is in the shower, and he is naked. So, naturally, she starts rambling. "—it's not an exact science! But, hey! On the plus side, I barely saw anything. I-I can't even fully verify that you're circumcised—"

"Oh, my God," Josh says again, accompanied by some kind of strangled noise. "Get. Out."

He reaches through her and shuts off the water. Or, so she assumes. Her eyes are still jammed shut. But when she hears the shower rings grate against the rod and the curtain whoosh, her suspicions are confirmed.

"Okay, but this—" She peeps to see if the coast is clear but is met by Josh's backside instead. He hastily wraps a towel around his waist just as she jams her eyes shut again. "It could be so much worse, Josh—"

"How?" he demands, voice cracking. He clears his throat. "How could this possibly be worse?"

She's not prepared for his response, especially because her efforts to physically remove herself from the room keep getting derailed by the thought that he's kind of shredded for a super nerd. So, naturally, she's absolutely not thinking when she blurts, "Well, that shower is not big, so good thing I'm transparent. 'Cuz otherwise... awkward—"

"ROOMMATE MEETING. NOW!" he bellows before she hears him storm down the hall.

—————

The living room is still blissfully empty when Sally arrives (the normal way, not telepathically because of course it wouldn't work on command when she really, really needed it to). She takes a moment to prepare herself, or to brace for whatever Josh will say to—well, let's be real here, yell at—them at this meeting.

Aidan comes down the stairs, yawning. He's mid-stomach scratch when she looks over at him, but her eyes are drawn to the sliver of skin above the waistband of his scrubs, now visible thanks to the whole scratching thing.

"Hey," he says when he sees her. He takes a seat on the couch next to her. "Any idea what this is about?"

Up close, she can see his scrubs are rumpled and his hair is sticking up at a lot of weird angles, like he just woke up from a nap. Which he probably did (she overheard him and Josh last week talking about there being a staff shortage at the hospital, probably because of all the vampire turnings, but whatever—they didn't ask her). Rather than looking disheveled, though, Aidan just looks hot... ter.

Before Danny came into the picture (she'll remember to feel guilty later for even considering such a scenario later), this would have been the ideal scenario: living with two hot guys—well, one hot guy and one passably good-looking guy—going out to bars, having parties, etc. But rather than being able to enjoy any of the possible benefits that could come from such an arrangement, here she was, stuck being dead.

Aidan is looking at her strangely until she realizes he's waiting for her to respond.

"Oh," she says, trying to shake off that line of thought (because she should absolutely clarify that in this scenario, she's not talking about benefits benefits, especially—God, no, especially not with Josh). "Uh—"

"I'll tell you what this is about," Josh says suddenly, almost as if she summoned him (she didn't... oh, God, did she?). He thunders down the stairs, two at a time, before coming to stand in front of both of them.

He's still not wearing anything—actually, super important correction: he still has his towel wrapped around his waist, he's just not wearing any clothing. But he's definitely avoiding looking at her directly. Which is fine with her because, honestly? Same.

"I believe it was John Locke who first coined the term 'social contract,'" Josh begins.

"Actually," Aidan chimes in, "it was Rousseau. I met the guy once. Such a pompous windbag, but—"

"Whatever. My point is that whenever people—individuals—agree to come together and form a society, they sacrifice certain... entitlements in order to coexist peacefully," Josh further explains. "This—our house—is a type of society. And we live under a social contract that entails respecting each other. Primarily, respecting each other's personal boundaries."

Aidan looks lost. "Um... Okay. Sure." He tries to hide a smirk. "You, uh, you think respecting boundaries might involve wearing pants in the common areas, bud?"

The light coming in from the bay window highlights some interesting contours on Josh's person, including the admittedly decent musculature on his otherwise lean frame. Once again, Sally finds herself involuntarily impressed.

(Seriously, though, she's witnessed him watch a TNG marathon on SyFy for fourteen episodes straight without getting up off the couch once. On multiple occasions. Sooo... how? Was it a werewolf thing? Like, was his metabolism just supernaturally fast? Or did he have a membership to a CrossFit gym that she and Aidan were just totally oblivious to?).

"Josh." Aidan's voice pulls her back to the present. "What the hell is—?"

"I accidentally transported into the shower while Josh was using it," Sally confesses at the same time Josh blurts, "Sally walked in on me while I was in the shower."

She rolls her eyes at him. "I did not walk in on you."

"No, you just materialized in on me," he insists. "Oh, thank—thank you, Sally! That distinction really helps with all—" He frantically gestures in a circle. "—this."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she demands because honestly? He's being such a drama queen. "I didn't do it on purpose!"

If he wasn't awake before, Aidan is now. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut before he leans forward and looks at Sally. "Wait, you did it?" he asks her, grinning in a way that makes him look much younger. "You traveled to another room?"

"Not the takeaway!" Josh fumes.

She ignores him and says to Aidan, "I'm still trying to figure it out fully—I couldn't materialize away from the bathroom—but yeah." His enthusiasm is infectious because she can feel a huge smile break out on her face. "I really did it."

"Sally, that's amazing!"

"No. Nuh-uh. Not amazing!"

She turns on Josh. "You're unbelievable! Wasn't the whole point of this—the whole reason you guys brought that sleemo over here—was so I could learn how to leave the house—?"

"—Aidan, this is not amazing!"

"God," Sally says, drawing out the syllable to three, "you are such a killjoy, Josh!"

"W-Wait—Hold on a second." Aidan hops off the couch and comes to stand between both of them. He faces her. "Didn't you tell me Tony said you had to focus on your destination—like really think about it—in order to make it work?"

All three of them fall silent, and it's only then that Sally realizes how close she's standing to Josh. She must have gravitated toward him while they were arguing. But they sure aren't arguing now. No, siree. They're just sort of... standing there, close enough that she swears she can feel his body heat (even though, she can't emphasize this enough: she can't actually feel anything), and looking at each other. But, like, in an intense, sort of charged kind of way? The really cheesy, mostly poorly written romance books Bridgette always swore she never read (but totally did) would have described it as heated. But that right there is exactly the problem.

They both seem to realize what's happening at the same time (more so the implication of Aidan's comment than the whole heated look thing, thank God) because Sally jumps back just as Josh shoves an accusatory finger in her direction.

"You were thinking about me in the shower?"

"What? No! I was thinking about the bathroom—"

"—which I was occupying—!"

"Yeah, but I wasn't—I didn't know you were in there." Then, because it suddenly feels important to defend herself beyond any reasonable doubt, she adds, "Obviously!"

From the corner of her eye, she can see Aidan's mouth gape uselessly as he pieces everything together. She does a double take—yes, an actual double take—when he tries to (poorly) cover the How the Grinch Stole Christmas-level, shit-eating grin that's regrettably taking up residence on his dumb, attractive face.

"Aidan, no."

He throws his hands up. "I didn't say anything," he insists innocently. "But... 'personal boundaries?' Y'know it—well, this all makes sense now."

"No, it doesn't!" Josh tears his gaze from Sally to look at Aidan pleadingly. "Aidan, this should make no sense. I think we should just throw a line of salt—as a precaution—at the entrance to the bathroom—"

Sally throws her hands on her hips. "Oh, real nice, Josh. Let's just imprison the ghost in her own home! Which it is, by the way. This is my home—"

"Was," he says, not exactly in a kind tone. "This was your home, Sally. But now it's ours." He gestures between Aidan and himself. "And we really need you to not be some, some... Peeping Tom, or—"

"Wow, okay, so—'Peeping Tom.' Really? I'm not some deviant! But even if I was—"

"If?"

"Yeah, if, Josh. Even if I was, why would I waste my time trying to catch a glimpse of you hanging dong, or whatever—"

"I—that's not—"

"Okay, okay!" Aidan once again steps in between them. "Look, we're all mature, rational adults—"

He's doing a terrible job of trying not to laugh, though, which is why Josh gives an exasperated, "Dude!" and proceeds to ball tap him. Aidan wheezes, suddenly hunching over against any additional attacks.

Sally rolls her eyes. "Way to be neither of those things, Josh."

"Sally, so help me—"

Aidan holds up his hand against Josh. "New plan," he croaks, voice cracking. Tentatively, he stands to full height, then clears his throat. "If we announce when we're about to take a shower—"

Josh frowns. "So, what? Just yell into the void 'I'm about to get in the shower, so please don't walk in on me—sorry, materialize—in on me?"

"I'd... probably fine tune that one, but yeah, that's the general idea," Aidan says before Sally can snap back at Josh. He addresses her directly when he asks, "If we give you some kind of heads up, can you promise to give the bathroom a wide berth?"

Sally sinks back onto the couch and huffs. "Yes—"

"See?" Aidan nudges Josh. "Look at that, problem solved."

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Josh grumbles. "Or, I guess don't see Sally—"

"—But I would like the record to show that I did not materialize into the shower while Josh was using it on purpose," Sally makes sure to add. "Somehow, I don't think that point is getting across as clearly as I would like."

"Oh, no," Aidan smirks. He yawns and purposefully makes his way around the couch and up the stairs. "It's very clear. I just... well, I just wonder how the neighbors would react to Josh showering with someone who is definitely not his loyal boyfriend of... two and a half months?"

"Aidan!"

Josh hurdles over the couch, losing his towel in the process, but Aidan is already at the top of the steps. Sally rushes to cover her eyes, but once again does so far too late.

"Oh, my God!" she screeches at the same time Aidan hollers, "Now, I've got a shift in a few hours. Next person who wakes me up, I will not hesitate to bleed dry."

His door resolutely slams shut, leaving Josh and her in its suddenly way too quiet wake. This time, Sally doesn't risk opening her eyes.

#don't get me wrong #I am absolutely here for aidan x sally #but josh x sally is just a lot of fun #as per usual it is up to me to write the rare pair fic I want to see in the world #being human us #being human us fic #josh x sally #josh levison #sally malik #aidan waite #back on my sam witwer nonsense tbh #my writing #my fic

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ohlookitsrex · 2 years

Text

Unfinished Cherik Fic

Hello, dear readers. I am tired, have been working on this fic for ages, and want validation and beta-readers—so I’m forcing y’all to beta read part of my (very unfinished, 3000 words of foreplay, Cherik fic.

"I'm gay, Erik! I like men! I like cock! Quite frankly, I like you just a bit more than 'friendly' would warrant!That's what everyone in this fucking house has been making fun of me over for the past week or so—probably longer. That's why you weren't let in on my secret, and that's why I didn't want you to know."Charles was well and truly angry, but simultaneously, he was petrified. He felt nauseous—and not in the good way—and heartbroken all at once. Erik was going to leave and never come back.

Erik ponders this for a moment, before sitting down across from Charles. He takes a deep breath before speaking. Oh, god, he was gearing up to reject Charles wasn't he? Yes, you could tell by the slight crease in his brow—the least he could do is make it quick, right? Just rip off the band-aid.

"I don't want to belittle the courage and bravery that it took you to come out. I have no intentions of taking away the significance of this moment, which is why I'm going to choose my next words very carefully." Erik takes another breath. Oh god here it comes! Charles braced himself.

"I think that might be one of the hottest things I've ever heard." Well, that's a strange way of rejecting somebody—what game is Erik playing at?

"What?" Charles said, brilliantly.

"I mean, it would be—the hottest thing, I mean—if you weren't so torn up about this. You've obviously been holding on to this for a while, and I just hate to see you in pain."

"Erik, wh-" he sounds so genuine it hurts. Charles has rarely seen this side of Erik, and when he has previously, words always failed him. He is in love with Erik—the trenches—no, the Mariana Trench, of love; the mere thought that his object of affection could, and would, reciprocate...it's a wave of joy, confusion, anger, and (most of all) hope.

"I like you, Charles. I like you quite a lot. I find you very alluring. Ich bin bis über beide Ohren verliebt. In your words, I 'like cock,' specifically yours." Charles was stunned speechless; he was over the fucking moon, and his face couldn't help but show it. Erik had the privilege of bearing witness to the most beautiful fucking smile ever seen. All of the positive emotions Charles thought gone, suddenly came rushing back. His blood was making whirlpools in his ears, his heart was beating like a kick-drum, butterflies were racing around in his stomach,

"...and," Erik continued—he probably said more, but Charles couldn't hear it over the sound of his blood. "I really hope you wouldn't be opposed if wanted to kiss you. Right now." His mind adds on a 'please,' which Charles melts at (just a bit).

"I..." Charles can't even comprehend what is happening. His heart is doing somersaults in his chest, his thoughts are rushing by at one million miles a minute, and—oh, Erik asked to kiss him.

"You're right, I'm sorry that was insensit-“

Charles smashed his face against Erik's, and placed himself atop the older mutant's lap. Erik was fucking surprised, to say the least. He froze for a short breath, his arms turned to stone around Charles' body, before his brain kicked into gear. Erik clawed at the telepath's face, in like of grabbing a particularly beautiful sculpture. Charles' grip proved much rougher, (at least compared to Erik's appreciative caress), as his fingers scraped through Erik's hair. Erik never had the pleasure of witnessing Charles lost in pleasure—hunger—and, he's now decided that it's his favorite thing.

One of his hands moved on to Charles' neck, holding him softly. He held Charles with such wonder; disbelief, maybe. Erik just couldn't believe that Charles was kissing him—Charles. Charles was kissing him. Beautiful, kind, compassionate, handsome, genius, Charles. He laughed against the smaller man's mouth, and Charles was hit with a sudden wave of elation, joy, and (more importantly) love. Erik loves him, him. Charles Xavier—rumpled professor, stubborn pain in the ass, mother-hen, homebody—Charles Xavier. Charles laughed back, and smiled against Erik's mouth. Charles felt his own arousal stirring, so he (painfully) breaks the connection between their lips.

"Erik," Charles panted. "Before I devour you—or before you devour me, I'm really not adverse to either—I just...you're amazing. I've been hearing your thoughts and living your feelings, but you know none of mine." Erik's expression was...perfection. There was a clear type of astonishment seeping through his eyes, elation shining through his smile, and blush coating the tips of his ears. It clearly took him a second or ten to process what Charles said.

"Charles you don't have to-" Charles silenced him with a finger to the lips. Erik found this incredibly arousing, so he allowed it.

"I... I've never been in love. Not before you. I lived my entire life surrounded by people whose love was purely two dimensional. It wasn't real, but that was all I knew. Then came you and... I've learned that love is one of the purest emotions possible. You've slowly made yourself a spot in my head, and to be quite honest, I can't say I mind all that much." Charles finally noticed the red surfacing beneath Erik's cheeks. Wow. I've never seen him blush before, but I definitely want to see it more. Erik's brain stopped working after 'I've never been in love before.' He was star-struck, and all of Charles' words were hitting him with a slight delay.

"I don't think I can explain the measure of comfort I find in the beating of your heart," Erik spoke mindlessly, his voice doused in gravel and honey. Charles flushed at the idea of Erik being able to feel something as intimate as his heartbeat, and his...y'know—it seemed only fair, since Charles had access to Erik's thoughts. Erik carefully tugged at an earlobe with his teeth, earning a surprised yelp in return. Licking an aimless trail, Erik ended his journey with his mouth resting on cartilage, and a devious smile on his face. Charles' skin flushed a pretty rouge, panting from the sampling of his ear.

"Or the hardening of your cock," Erik continued, air crackling through the fry in his voice. He made sure Charles was secured (via ass grope) before standing up, who then let out a positively filthy moan and tensed in surprise—his legs now wrapped around Erik's midsection. He found himself practically sat on Erik's prick, earning himself a moan from the metal-bender. "Jesus Christ, Charles, do you want me to drop you?" Erik asked incredulously, still stumbling over to his bed. "I mean, eventually, yes, but right now," Charles trailed off, as Erik toppled down onto the bed—telepath first—careful not to crush his partner. "Right now," he picked up, "I'm quite satisfied with the current positioning."

"Well, I'm quite dissatisfied with current the lack of nudity," Erik quipped, tugging at any and every metal fastening in Charles' clothing.

"Impatient, are we?" Charles smirked, feeling the loosening of his jeans.

"Xavier," he said with heat, "I'm not sure if you're aware, but I seldom have attractive men in my bed, and there is no way I'm not taking advantage of the one I've managed." Charles assisted Erik in the removal of both his cardigan and trousers, but stopped Erik in the removal of his pants before they went further. "Ah-ah-ah, not until we're on equal standing. I want to see you too," and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing Erik had ever heard. "Shit, okay" he panted, quickly disrobing himself down to his pants. He gave Charles a second to appreciate the goods, then began to explore the pale chest laid out in front of him. It's toned plains were sparsely dotted with auburn freckles, porcelain skin overrun with soft hues of pinks and reds.

"Gött, you're beautiful...like you walked out of my dreams," Erik softly hissed, his hands grasping Charles' pectorals, and positioning his thumbs right above a set of pert nipples. Charles thrashed lightly against Erik, and a pleased whimper had managed to escape the confines of his throat. It was then that Erik noticed his own length positioned directly on top of Charles'; Erik then decided to shift his hips up and down lightly, making Charles cry out in ecstasy, his eyes screwing themselves shut. He also bit down on his lip beautifully, leaving a shock of pure white against the near magenta color of his lips. Suddenly, it became absolutely imperative that Erik kiss Charles right this second—and why shouldn't he, anyway? Erik did exactly that—and with impressive finesse for a man who could, as of now, barely remember his own name—pushing more of his weight against Charles, and incidentally, moving the flesh of Charles' nipples. Charles then responded with what could only be described as a mewl, and Erik took the opportunity to utilize his tongue and explore Charles' mouth.

Erik would usually have more self-control, especially since he felt that Charles deserved to be ravished properly. But, Charles made Erik feel things that he never felt before. Erik was selfish with Charles, gluttonous was a better word—perhaps indulgent. Charles was meant to be savored, yes, but Erik had lost his self-restraint the second he felt Charles' lips on his. As he pulled away, Erik tugged on Charles' bottom lip with his teeth. He'd always wanted to try that, and yes, he would love to do it again. Then, Erik had noticed something.

"Charles."

"What?"

Charles.

By the way he'd jumped in surprise, Erik knew he received his message. "Erik, are you sure-" he began, and was cut off by a (surprisingly sweet) kiss. "Libeling, I know. The reason I wanted you out of my head was because I thought you wouldn't like what you found in there. My head is not a happy place to be, but around you...around you it's not too bad. Also, there's this embarrassing school-girl crush I have on a ridiculously handsome telepath, but you wouldn't happen to know anyone like that, would you?" Charles giggled—giggled—and quite adorably, too.

And at that, Charles let his powers off their leash. Contrary to what one might expect, telepathy is not being a 'mind-reader' in the literal sense. It's similar to reading someone's energy, as many thoughts aren't actually articulate—hell, half of them aren't even cognizant. Often times, they're muddy, and different people think in different ways. Charles thinks in feelings (or vibes) and he reads in feelings as a result. This makes it a bit complicated when reading someone who thinks in other methods; for a while, it was like trying to move a muscle that wasn't there. Now, it's simply like translating a second language, i.e he can do it if he wants, but it also expends energy—if he doesn't have that energy, then he can't translate the language, but that doesn't mean he can't hear the language. It's still very intimate to read someone's mind, obviously, and Charles is feeling a bit prudish for blushing like a nun in a sex shop. Although, Erik doesn't seem to mind much.

"What, does he go to another school?"

"Yes; I draw his name in the margins of my notebook," Erik said, as he began traveling down Charles' body. Charles let out a near maniacal laugh, and was far too amused by the joke to notice Erik's movement, until he felt the tongue on his nipple. All laughter was soon forgotten and instead cut off by a wanton moan. Charles nestled his fingers in Erik's hair, gently enough so he could still move freely. Erik continued to lick his way down Charles' lithe body, giving special attention to the few freckles he came across. Suddenly, Erik was being dragged upwards, then flipped onto his back. Charles sat atop him in triumph, seeming to have expected a fight. He began to inch downward, toying with the waistband of Erik's pants. "I'm sorry to cut you off, but I've been wanting this for longer than you can imagine," he drawled, sliding his boxers off torturously slow. "I've been imagining this since you pulled me out of the water," Erik replied through a moan, as his cock was exposed to the cold air.

"I've been imagining this since I read your mind," Charles stated before promptly sucking the ever living shit out of Erik's dick. His head was enveloped in the warmth of Charles' mouth, and Schieße was it good.

Before I pulled you out of the water, Charles added, as if that would change anything. His tongue worked skillfully, and Erik could have sworn that Charles was put on this earth just to drive him mental. Without any prelude, Charles took all of Erik with startling ease—his nose buried in Erik’s auburn nest of wiry hairs. “Schieße…ist gut”, Erik sagte als seine Stimme unglaublich niedrig fiel—and his thoughts fizzled out entirely as Charles moaned around his cock. Erik speaking German? Hot. Charles understanding German? The best decision of his high-school career.

TBC

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lensherr x charles xavier #erik lensherr #x men

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lilallama · 3 years

Text

Valentines Day

TW: Obsessive behaviour, mentioning of stealing and slight homophobia, proceed with caution!

"Taehyung sweetie, wake up.~"

I groan and turn in my sheets, slowly regaining consciousness. "I've prepared you breakfast. Get dressed and come downstairs." The clacking of my mother's heels echoed through the hall as she went away. Groggily I sit up and stretch. I push my bangs out of my eyes I stare towards the window to my left. The sun shines through the thin curtains casting an orange light on my bedroom wall. I yawn and stand up, pulling the curtains aside and flooding the room with light. I take a moment to look outside, admiring our beautiful garden before remembering what day it is. Today is Valentines day! My God/Goddess asked me to meet up with them. Oh, spending Valentines with my saviour is the best thing to have ever happened to me!

I rush to pick out a white dress shirt, a khaki sweater vest with a black pair of slacks. After also brushing through my hair to untangle any knots I opened my secret Y/n shrine. The picture of their smiling face makes my heart pound so fast. They are otherworldly, absolutely ethereal! I take out a shirt of theirs which I borrowed a while ago. If I close my eyes it still smells like them, it's addictive.

Just to make sure that no items were robbed from their place I go through all items once again. Five chewed on pencils, a small box of empty wrappers, my 20 most favourite photos of them, the candle they accidentally bit into because they thought it was edible, the borrowed shirt, a pair of their underwear, a bunch of pins and hair ties they touched, the bundle of 36 hair strands I managed to collect (I only collect the hairs that have fallen out, I would never dare to cut or rip out my God's/Goddess' hair) and my water bottle which they drank out of (I had to buy a new one to keep this in my shrine but it was so worth it). All my items were there.

Suddenly I hear clacking and a small thud. I turn around in confusion, what just happened? But then I hear Yeontan's bark from the other side of the door. He ran against the door again. I can't help but laugh as I go to open the door for him. He jumps up a bit so I kneel down to pet him. "I'm meeting up with Y/n today, isn't that exciting!" Yeontan immediately started yapping, he loved my God/Goddess almost as much as I do. It's really incredible what an effect Y/n has on everyone, they all seem to love them. Well, then again that is expected to be the case considering Y/n is such a godly being.

"Taehyung!" "I'm coming!" My mother called me again. "Come on, boy." I hurry downstairs with Yeontan following me. "Good morning, Ma. Good morning, Pa." My father nodded at me while my mother beckoned me to sit down and eat. While I finish my breakfast my mother was talking about a lot of stuff. "Have you heard, they're trying to make gay marriage legal here. That is complete nonsense! God created a man and a woman for a reason." I have no clue what my mother was raging about. I concluded that she's probably just misinformed, Y/n said that being part of the lgbtq community is completely natural and alright. I know they know better than anyone else. "What's so bad about it, Ma?" My mother looked at me with horror. "They can't help who they're attracted to. It's all natural, isn't it?" My mother shook her head. "No!" She exclaimed, "Being gay or trans or something is inherently selfish! Gays are selfish! Men and women were created by God to conceive a child and stop the human kind from getting extinct. Trans are selfish! God gave you a body and you chose to change it in it's entirety! Such behaviour is unacceptable." "But I thought God loves everyo-" "Where have you even gotten that idea? Maybe you should go back to homeschooling. Clearly these other kids are having a bad influence on you." I look over to my father who just continues reading the newspaper. I respect my mother but she clearly isn't ready yet for the wisdom Y/n has bestowed upon me. Not everyone is as lucky as I am. "Look at the time we'll have to go now." Right, it was Sunday which means we're going to church. I always like going there, the windows astound me everytime. And the pastor is always so welcoming and friendly. I vividly remember asking him about the lgbtq community after Y/n had told me about them. He said that God loves everyone regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. He truly is a wise man.

As soon as we returned my father got a call from a business partner. They said they'd have to go now and want me to take Yeontan with me to my meet up. While I was a bit saddened that I couldn't be alone with my God/Goddess I decided it wouldn't be a problem.

Yeontan excitedly trots besides me as I make my way to the place where my saviour and I would meet up. I debated getting them a bouquet of red roses for Valentines day, but figured that the 20 letters, 12 stuffed animals and 18 bouquets I gave them during the past week would be enough, for now. As I make my way there I couldn't conceal the excitement I felt. Getting the chance to spend time with my Master/Mistress was something I believed I'd only ever dream about. The euphoria I feel from the mere thought of getting to see them today is dizzying.

Suddenly Yeontan starts barking and storms off. He never leaves my side, that's why he's not kept on a leash. To see him run away from me like that was surprising at best. But then I notice the reason for his behaviour. The puppy ran towards Y/n who was waiting for me a few metres away. How could I have just ignored my saviour like that! What I did was unacceptable. I would punish myself, but it would likely ruin Y/n's day, I can't let that happen. So I run after Yeontan, towards my God/Goddess.

"Good morning, Y/n! I'm sorry about him." I look down at Yeontan who's still getting pet by Y/n. He better cherish that they're even looking at him. It's bad enough that he practically demanded pats from them. So disrespectful. "No worries. He's so adorable!" At least Y/n seemed to enjoy his behaviour. I doubt it would work if I behaved that way towards them, but that's for another day to find out. "I dearly hope you didn't have to wait too long." They smile up at me. Oh, their smile is to die for. So incredibly perfect! I feel my knees getting weak. "Don't worry about it. I just arrived too." Yeontan started barking again and was noe excitedly jumping around, making Y/n laugh. "Awe! Yeontan is so adorable. I didn't know you'd take him with you." "It was unexpected for me as well." They stand up and take my hand. My heart is beating so fast, I feel as if I'm about to explode. It's getting harder to breathe. "Let's go now!" We start walking along the path with Yeontan rushing after us.

We sat outside a small café and each ordered our desired dessert. "Have you ever been on a date?" That question caught me off guard. "Oh, no. I haven't." I believe that much was quite obvious, but perhaps I was mistaken. They look surprised, shocked almost. "Really? How come? Aren't you getting asked out left and right?" "I suppose I just never had interest in anyone. I barely know those who ask me out. They're all so shallow to confess without knowing anything about me." Just then the waiter returned with our desserts. We thank him before we start eating.

Both of us watch as Yeontan is running around and playing in the snow. I look over to see Y/n smile at him, leading me to also smile. I adore their smile. Everything about them is so perfect. I could stare at them for hours and never get bored. Each detail is something new, something beautiful to discover. Unable to take y eyes off them I-

"Excuse me." Who dares interrupt my special time with my God/Goddess?! Two girls stood next our table. One almost cowering behind the other and mumbling something along the lines of, "Oh my god, no. Jess, don't." But I really couldn't care less. "My friend thinks you're really cute and was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with her." So annoying. I eye them down and make one thing clear. "I'm not interested." The girl cowering behind the other looked disappointed, perhaps ashamed. Good. She should be. After they interrupted my date with the Y/n they can go burn for all I care. "Have a good day." After the girls back away with the other girl exclaiming, "What a jerk!" I turn my attention back to Y/n. "Uhm, wasn't that a bit harsh?" They looked unsure. "Was it? I thought it was reasonable. Better to tell the truth than lead them on, am I correct?" They took another bite of their dessert. "I guess you're right."

We had a grand time strolling through the park, even having a snowball fight. They won. Obviously I could not compete with my God/Goddess, no one could ever. Yeontan was also very entertained as he kept trying to catch the snowballs as they flew over his head. Soon the sun began setting. It was incredible how fast the time flew by. Both our clothes were slightly damp due to the snow. I didn't think much about it untill Y/n began shivering. No no no no! My saviour could get sick, or die! I couldn't let that happen. I take off my jacket and gently place it over their shoulders. "But, won't you be cold?" I give them a reassured smile. "Don't worry about me, my God/Goddess. If I may, I'd love to accompany on your way home." They let out a bashful chuckle, making me melt. I feel my entire body heating up from that gorgeous chuckle. Their power over me is simply astounding.

All the way home I keep my arm atound them in hopes of providing some form of warmth for them. I cannot bear knowing that they're freezing. Never would I be able to forgive myself if they'd catch a cold. Yeontan was also slowly getting tired, which was by bo means a surprise considering how he played and jumped around all day. "Thank you for bring me home, Taehyung." Hearing them say my name makes my entire body tingle and flutter. "You do not have to thank me, Y/n. It was an honour!" Whatever I expected, it was not feeling their lips against mine. My mind went blank and I could barely stand. I felt dizzy, yet so so good! They gave me my jacket back after the short peck and laughed. "Goodnight!" Then they went inside and closed the door. I stood there for a moment, shocked at what had happened yet freling absolute bliss. After a minute or so I manage to finally pull myself together. I put on my jacket, it smells like them! And then I picked Yeontan up and walked home.

Oh, this day was the best I've ever had!

If you liked my work please reblog! 💌

#yandere bts #cooking club #yandere taehyung #yandere v #valentine week

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1 of TSC x B99 Au

B99 belongs to it's rightful owners and tsc and the characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

Jace was walking up to his desk and he noticed Clary was very concentrated on her computer, he decided to flick a rubber band at her.

“What the hell Herondale,” she said

“Well I guess I got another score,” he said and winked

She rolled her eyes

"We have work to do," she said.

"Do we have a case?" He asked

"Yes, a electronic store was rubbed," said Clary.

"Well let's go partner," Jace said and winked

"I dislike you so much," she said

"You know you love me."

"No, not everyone loves you Herondale," she said and walked to the elevator.

She is in a mood today I see, maybe I should cheer her up, but I would look suspicious than.

______

Clary and Jace were sadly partners, she didn't enjoy it and he assumes she likes him, yeah whatever, he's beautiful but like whatever.

Her mom got a call from her abusive father and Clary has been worried about her mother and sisters and her step father, she wonders why that asshole can't just leave them alone, he took her big brother away so hasn't he done enough?

They pulled up to the electronic store and got out.

"They got hit pretty bad," Jace said

"Yeah," she answered

When they went in to ask the owner questions, Jace was messing with so many things, honestly why did he have to act like a child?

"Sorry about my partner," she said. "He doesn't know how to act like an adult."

"I know, I just prefer to have fun," Jace said

She rolled her eyes

"Do you by chance have any footage of the break in?" Clary asked the owner

"No, they knocked them all out," said the store owner.

"Oh Clary!," Called Jace

She went over to him

"Look," he said. "There's a camera in this duck."

He threw it at her as if it were toxic or something, he always got strange around ducks.

"You're right," she said.

______

They went through the footage and after a couple more days of work they found the bad guys and put them in jail

Jace wondered if they could improve their system of the way the handle certain suspects but not all of them wanted things to change. Jace wanted to make a difference though.

"We're getting a new Captain today," said Clary as she sat at her desk.

"I heard," he answered

"Why do you seem disappointed?," she asked.

"Cause our old Captain was good," he said

"What!, No he was terrible, and you only liked him cause he let you off the hook for many things," she said

He sighed

The elevator door opened then, and Jace was not prepared for who their new Captain was.

"Hello everyone, I am Alexander Lightwood, I am your new Captain," said Alec

And Jace knew him, his best friend, until they lost a little touch after Alec went to L.A. to do work in another place.

He looked over at Izzy who was just as shooketh as him, Alec is her big brother and it looks like he didn't tell her either.

Alec walked by to his new office, without even looking at Jace or Izzy

"Now," he said. "I want you all to get back to work."

"He's so cool," said Clary.

Magnus walked up and said "Did anyone else get the gay vibe?"

Magnus wasn't wrong, Alec was gay, he came out to Jace and Izzy back in highschool, they supported him and said if anyone said or did anything to him they would beat them up, Jace and Izzy were 15 then.

"J-Bear try not to look shocked," said Magnus

"Magnus, that's Alec," he said

"Oh damn, that piece of good looking was your best friend back in the academy?" Magnus said.

"Yeah, we were like brothers until he left to go to school somewhere else," Jace said

Izzy came over

"Jace, he didn't tell me either and I am so pissed, how could he just not tell me? I am his damn sister for crying out loud," said Izzy

She was quick to anger at times, but Jace understood her anger now.

"Oh damn, that's gonna make things awkward, won't Jacey?" Asked Simon

Simon is Clary's best friend and him and Jace hang out sometimes

"Simon, don't remind Jace," Izzy said

"Well if you are telling me to not then consider it done," said Simon

Jace was pretty sure he liked Izzy, but Izzy will probably never go for him.

"You knew him?" Asked Clary.

"Yeah," Jace said.

"Will it make it awkward to work with him?"

"Not unless he makes it that way, Clary." He told her

"Anyway, I am having dinner with my mom tonight so I am gonna head out," Jace said.

His shift was over.

"Your not gonna say hi?" Asked Izzy

"No if he wants to talk to me he'll message me, kinda a rule he has," said Jace

"Ok, well tell Céline I said hi," Izzy said

"Will do," he answered.

______

"So sunshine, how was work today?" Asked his mom

Céline was a photographer, and she arranged flowers for people as well, Jace grew up loving flowers and plants because of it.

"It was good, though Alec is our new Captain," he said

"Oh," was all his mom said

"He didn't tell me or Iz."

"That's strange," his mom said

"Yeh, did Maryse say anything to you?" He asked

"No, me and Maryse don't talk much since you kids graduated, I don't think she likes me very much," his mother said with that smile that said she was fine, but really she was upset.

"Nah, Maryse is just a tough woman, she doesn't like many people," he reassured his mom.

"Thank you sweetie, but you don't have to reassure me, I have you so I am fine," she said

It had always been him and his mom, ever since he can remember, his dad left them when he was 6, and he hasn't really seen him since, he also doesn't know what he did to make his dad want to leave.

"sunshine, what's wrong?" She asked

"Nothing, I was just thinking," he said

"Whenever you say that, it usually involves your father," his mom said

She knew him so well

"Yeah, I guess I still wonder why he left and why he has never tried to get into contact with me," he said

"Your father is a complicated man, and I loved him but he had some issues he needed to work out, your grandmother is a hard woman, I can't imagine being raised by her, let alone disappointing her which your father did when he married me," his mother said

"well I don't know why, because you are an amazing woman," he told his mom

"I love you, my son," she said

"I love you too mom," he told her.

______

When he got home that night he received a message from Alec, it said "Sorry I didn't tell you, it was complicated and I couldn't exactly say much, let's get coffee some time and talk about it."

I guess life is complicated, he thought to himself.

He texted Clary to make sure she got home alright

She said. "Yes, but why do you text me this every night?"

He told her, he was just being a gentleman, but really he couldn't say it's because he cared about her.

@khaleesiofalicante I tried 😎

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 13

first time readers click here 💖

TWs/Summary: In this house, we ship Reader/Tony's Rolls-Royce. Reader and Tony being dorks on a date. That's it that's the chapter. Lots of sass and Tony being Tony.

A question for my readers: Are you still invested? How's the slow burn? Is everything realistic? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

As usual, my beta is @miscmarvelwritings . I love her.

"Nice digs, Cupcake."

"Nice ride, Tin Man."

The sass fell from my lips, warm and familiar, paving the way for our upcoming debut like the old, soft living room rug. Any awkwardness I had expected there to be left the moment I saw Tony pull up to my front gate in his Royce: the man was just that extra. The size of my estate, the five-figure outfit of mine - it paled in comparison to his own clout.

In a world where my choices were usually distributed between stuck-up rich boys or insecure middle-class men, Tony was a fresh drink of water with his absolute indifference towards my and his own net worth.

I wasn't afraid to admire said ride, either. Being a huge petrolhead was what got me interested in engineering, physics and computer sciences in the first place. The desire for speed grew into thirst for knowledge: how to get more horsepower, how to tune, how to mod. No mechanic took an eighteen year old rich-girl seriously even when I had all the lingo right, I had to be a step ahead, at all times, if I wanted my ride to be the best. And I never settled for less than that.

"No driver?" I inquired for the reason behind the unusual behaviour. After all, a Rolls' wasn't the kind of car you drive personally. All the amenities it had, it had in the back.

"Gave Happy a day off," Tony remarked absently. I noticed the small quirk of his eyebrow, however. He was intrigued.

I decided to give it a shot. "So what, this thing packs, what, about five-fifty horses?" I mused, watching Tony nearly swerve into the opposite lane. "At two and a half tons, it's still gotta be pretty quick with that V12-turbo. How fast it go?" The satisfaction was immeasurable, as pleasant to my soul as sitting in a heated leather chair with the smell of a new car, engine quietly rumbling in front of me. And by quietly I mean, it was focus-or-you'll-miss-it kind of quiet.

"Well aren't you full of surprises, baby girl," Tony grinned; a happy, excited grin even. It made his face lose ten years of age just like that. "Zero to sixty in five and a half seconds," He said after a moment.

"Not bad," I said, sounding impressed. I already knew that but I wasn't planning on robbing Tony out of well deserved praise for his choice in vehicles.

"Got a ride of your own?" He asked with a smile, like he didn't know it already. No background check would have skipped my three speeding tickets, but I concur. This game was fun.

"I do, actually. It's a 2008 Range Rover. Supercharged," I added in the end, just to emphasise.

"A big car for such a little girl," Tony whistled playfully.

"I'm compensating," I deadpanned. "I'm a little slow on the uptake, y'know, so my Rangie with five hundred horses makes up for it. Gotta keep it balanced."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Five hundred? Haven't heard about that, it comes with three-ninety-five in stock," His eyebrow wiggled. "Tuned it?" He cast me a contemplative glance.

"Yup," I exclaimed happily. As far as the date, I would have been utterly ecstatic to talk about cars all evening. Screw the boring "where do you see yourself in five years" questions, talk to me about your favourite engine swaps. Concept cars, give me those. Monster trucks? Yes, please. Vintage low-riders? Couldn't wait to get my grubby little hands on one. Gimmee!

Tony kept his silence and kept his press smile starting the moment we set foot on getting out of the car. The place he'd taken me to was ridiculously upscale and fancy; the valet hesitated only for a second before catching the keys Tony so carelessly tossed in his direction. There was almost no fear in his body language when the boy approached the massive, expensive vehicle.

The hostess smiled big at Tony and gave me the world's biggest stink-eye when he looked the other way but what else is new? As soon as she left us in the privacy of our booth, I didn't hesitate to stick my tongue at her retreating back. A brief lapse in maturity, if you will.

Tony cackled, growing suddenly serious. "Did she bother you? I can get her fired. I should get her fired."

"Nah," I shrugged. "Don't really care, just wanted to showcase my amazing sense of humour." Snorting, I gave Tony a wink and a secretive grin.

"You really don't give a fuck, do you," His eyebrows twitched again, a sign of mild interest that I noted during our routine sciencing time together. Tony was incredibly expressive if one took the time to observe.

"I could suck your dick under the table right now," I answered honestly. "It's just that when God gave out things like dignity and shame, I wasn't home. Too many fun things to do, y'know," I spoke as casually as I could even though I was dying of laughter inside.

Eyes bulging, jaw hanging mid-way to the floor. Tony was serving Looks™ and I didn't mean just the white tee and purple blazer combo. "Princess, you're going to be the fucking death of me!" He took a sip from his water glass, smirking.

Finally releasing my mirth, I gathered my hands in a lock in front of me. His own, warm and calloused, reached over - I allowed the brief intimacy, clasping them, fiddling with the leather band of his watch. For a moment, it was just us, sitting in the dim light, discovering each other anew to Robert Johnson singing the blues and NYC bustling with life just behind the wall.

The waiter took our orders - and if I totally butchered the Italian, Tony was gentleman enough not to make any remarks.

"Somehow, every time I am with you, you both manage to meet my expectations to a T and surprise me at the same time," I wasn't able to completely ignore my nerves. My hand was still loosely in his and he didn't mind at all, me messing with his watch.

"How so?"

"I'm going to loosely quote someone, bear with me." Mr Davies's words popped into my mind just as I was wondering how to best articulate my feelings. "You're eccentric and interesting because it's, well, it's you, because it would be much weirder if we'd be sitting here and making boring small-talk and asking each other the genetic get-to-know-you questions," I briefly paused to sip my Dom Peringon and stare at our hands. Gathering my wits. "That would be why I don't do dates. It sounds so tedious on paper, just sorting through people until a person that's not absolutely mind-numbing comes around."

Tony was silent for a moment, the sheen of his eyes, the faraway look; he was lost in memories. Probably remembering all the girls he had charmed before. I didn't doubt it was easy for him: his smile was distracting and people usually were attracted to shiny things. He shone plenty. Also, most people were stupid, they never cared to look past the golden wrapper. I was convinced there was a diamond under it. But then again, I was biased.

"I've never thought about it that way, but I guess you're right," He finally said, serious. "With Pepper, at least, it was. Come to think of it, we never had that much in common, besides Stark Industries and her willingness to put up with my shit." It was painful for him to talk about her, that much was obvious. His laugh was forced and sardonic.

I, on the other hand, never understood why they got together in the first place. Or maybe I did - but the cold, composed Pepper and the chaotic, energetic Tony reminded me too much of my own parents. All four people in this fucked up equation could have been much happier if they choose... What? Being alone? That was terrifying, too.

I kept quiet, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

"You know, this is so bizarre. Even an eighteen year old kid has got it figured out," He suddenly said, his tone bitter like the coffee that he loved.

"Woah, slow down," I put up a hand. "I never said I know what to do. I just said I know what NOT to do." The 'kid' remark would have made me eye-roll so hard my skull would crack any day. In this context, however, it was pretty spot on.

Tony snorted. "And how did you come by that information, pray tell, Baby?"

I huffed. "Have you met my parents?" We simultaneously cringed and I hurried to erase that mental image. "I make fun of myself for being into old dudes all the time," I made air quotes around the phrase that made Tony scoff, "But, honestly speaking, I've never even been on a date. Like a real one. Usually it's twenty minutes and I'm falling asleep mid-conversation. People can't seem to keep up with me or something," I felt genuinely dejected. "So many meaningless questions, so many downright idiotic comments. From men," I pointed out the obvious. "My mother used to tell me she thought I was gay because I didn't act like a girl... Whatever that means."

"That sounds pretty shitty," Tony was studying me like one would have been looking at an exotic animal in a zoo. "That said, I agree."

"That I don't act like a girl?" I teased him, the left corner of my mouth tilting upward. "Fuck that noise. I want to drive fast cars, drink straight liquor and have orgasms. If that makes me a dude... I look pretty good for a dude in a dress."

We laughed in unison, tension evaporating under the shared, mutual understanding. With Tony, it was easy. The waiter brought our selected dishes. Blink-and-he's-gone. Top notch service.

"A dude in a dress, can't say I'm surprised 'bout your lack of dates," He remarked conversationally, happily digging into his food. The noises he made were intriguing, to say the least, and I followed suit on my own food, finding it absolutely delicious. A delicious meal with a delicious man at my side. I refused to feel guilty about my thoughts.

"I guess I have exactly one (1) date on my ledger now," I raised my argument.

The fork clattered as Tony once again, came to a sudden realization. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding."

"No shit," I gave into the urge to roll my eyes. "But on the upside, my first date was with the most gorgeous, intelligent and witty bachelor of the city. I'd say I don't have it all that bad," I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Aw, you're making me blush," Tony recovered quickly, grinning. "And don't be shy. The most desired bachelor of the country, if not the world."

I shook my head. "No, the world's most delectable bachelor is one of the Saudi princes. What's-his-name, the one who posts goat and horse pics on Insta," I snapped my fingers a couple of times, trying to remember the name as Tony looked at me all offended. "Anyways, you get my point. I could have a go at him, don't you think?" Cocking my shoulder, coyly twirling the strap of my dress, I gave Tony my best come-hither look and was rewarded with an appreciative once-over. His eyes were growing hungry again.

"You're a million dollar baby," He finally said, voice low. "And the extent of people I would be willing to share you with is very small."

That got me interested, sudden heat prickling underneath my skin. The conversation took a turn I didn't expect it to; and there lied the delight of being around Tony. He was always ready to surprise, in the best way. "Tell me," I requested politely.

"That's a conversation for another time," He was enjoying the chit-chat, desire beginning to creep into his features.

"Mmm, you think?" I allowed the strap of my dress to slip down my shoulder, exposing a collarbone, showing him just how far I was willing to go to satisfy my curiosity.

He swallowed audibly. "I think... You're smart enough to figure it out," He finally gritted his teeth, finishing off his dinner and immediately calling for the check.

I wasn't done yet, however. The possibility of riling him up, taunting him into a lustful frenzy - I was in heaven. Karma had favoured me that evening, it had given me a chance to get Tony back for all the times he unknowingly made my mouth water and my brain go blip. "Must be Steve then," I bit my lip in thought.

Honestly? I was as clueless as the couple next table over. Steve it wasn't, that much I knew for sure, he and Tony had their little love/hate dramatic connection that always ended in a massive ego standoff. Tony would be on the frontline fighting against Steve if the blonde dared to show anything even remotely resembling romantic interest towards someone Tony himself had his eyes on.

"Princess," Tony growled, sarcastically raising an eyebrow.

"Not Steve," I replied, cracking a smile. Success! "You know, I'm really bad at guessing who's into me. Unless someone is balls deep in me," My face was mere inches away as we quickly shrugged on our coats. "And even then, I can't be sure."

My giggling was accompanied by Tony shaking his head in exasperated fashion; he took my hand nonetheless and I happily swayed it between us, poster child for "not a care in the world". He allowed it, maintaining the same exasperated air about him, and I let him. Fondness and happiness seeped through that anyways.

"Brat," His voice was kind. And his kiss tingled where he left it on the corner of my mouth, sweet and short. "Here, have a go," Before I could react, the keys to his Rolls Royce were placed in my palm and he was making his way around the car to the passenger's side.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)! @softie-socks @schemefrenzy

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #party favours #bun writes

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hemmoangel · 3 years

Text

Dr. Gay Dreamboat Pt. 1

AN: I am giving the people what they want! Here is my comeback one shot’s first part. I hope you all enjoy it because this series is going to be STEAMY!

Basically, Ashton is a doctor and Luke is his hot femboy nurse who has the hots for him...enjoy

Warning:There will be smut and mentions of smut throughout the series! Bottom! Luke and top! Ashton, of course. DO NOT READ IF YOU HATE GAY STUFF! Also, be sure to like a reblog if you enjoy!

Here’s the link for ao3 :) :

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29210262/chapters/71721195

Working as a pediatric nurse had its perks. For example, Luke enjoyed socializing with children—they always had interesting stories to tell, and he liked wearing comfy clothes to work every day. He felt so professional in his little white scrubs. He also enjoyed stealing the candy from all the jars at the receptionist's desk. They always kept lollipops or gummy bears for the children who had a hard time handling vaccinations. But perhaps, the most exciting part (for most of the nurses, in fact) was how attractive he found his boss.

It wasn't the reason he had initially wanted the job. He was excellent with kids, and the registered nurse position required only a three-year degree. It paid more than enough to support his dog himself. It was a lovely job all around. The people were friendly, and there was such a diverse clientele that Luke met people from all over Sydney. It was social job with excellent pay; he couldn't ask for more. Except for the fact that his boss was a dreamboat.

They met at the interview—Luke was a blubbering mess. He wasn't exactly the smartest interviewee, so he rambled any time the man with fluffy brown hair and deep hazel eyes asked him a question.

"Are you from around here, Luke?" His voice had hit Luke's ears like velvet. It felt like a question he would receive at a gay bar, but he definitely wasn't imagining this guy at a gay bar during something as important at a job interview. Right?

"Oh, yeah. I grew up here...all my life," Luke swallowed thickly. He watched the doctor's hands, searching for a wedding ring. He didn't find one.

He's probably too busy for a love life, he thought and bit his lip.

"That's great. You'll easily relate to the patients then. They need someone kind and familiar with the area. It soothes them. I think you'll make a great nurse," The doctor, Ashton, assured. Luke had never heard such eloquent words in his life. He wanted to marry this man and have kids with him. But then, Luke realized that he had only answered two questions. Were his responses really that good? He was a dumb twink with nothing in his head except this doctor's dick for crying out loud!

Maybe Dr. Ashton Irwin saw a bright future inside of him too.

After that, Luke made it his personal mission to get on the handsome doctor's good side. Any chance that he had, he would ask his opinion or ask how to pronounce the name of some ridiculously long prescription just so Ashton would allow their arms to brush. Sometimes, Luke could smell the aftershave or cologne that he wore. It made his head spin.

He was always looking for new ways to get close to him.

"Dr. Irwin, I really love the new murals that you've picked for the examination rooms. The kids are going to love all the pretty colors!" Luke gushed, snacking on one of the children's lollipops in the office break room. He sucked it to stain his lips red.

"Oh yeah? I think so too. I was a hyper child, so I'm sure I would have loved all of the mind-numbing rainbow," Ashton laughed, looking over at Luke, "Hey, isn't that one of the lollipops we give to the kids?"

Luke blushed, "Yeah...just one. I really like the cherry ones," he felt like a child being scolded. It almost was electrifying. He was hoping that his scrubs made him look particularly attractive today. They always did give his bum a certain heart shape.

"That's funny, Luke. You always light up the office," Ashton said softly, unaware that he had just made Luke's entire week. Oh, what he wouldn't do to sink to his knees right there in the break room and risk this man's entire PhD.

The room was thick since they were alone. Luke could hear the coffee machine whirring and the hands on the clock slowly tick tock. He ached to hear more of Ashton's praise. And maybe he was delusional, but Ashton only ever spoke so softly about him. It caused him to fantasize about being the doctor's fem-boy wife. They would have so many kids. Ashton was so thoughtful when it came to children, Luke was positive that he would want a million with him. Plus, what could be better than a man who already knows where the prostate is? Maybe he needed a therapist, but he was only human. When he saw the stretch of veins in the doctor's forearms or caught the glimpse of a sweet smile stretch across his lips, Luke felt true love.

"Yeah, I am pretty thrilled with the rainbow myself. I love representation," Luke pretended to flip his hair.

"That's why I chose rainbow walls. We deserve to be well accounted for in the office just like everyone else," Ashton flashed Luke a sincere smile.

Luke was a puddle. Just like at the interview, he was unsure of how to answer. The love of his life was at least a little gay too! He diverted his eyes back to his sucker, crossing his legs and trying to fight back a burning blush. He couldn't help but hope that Ashton had been flirting with him at least a little bit. They always shared carried good conversation and cracked small jokes between the two of them. His heart wished for the best, but his himbo brain warned him of being too rash. He loved this job, and he didn't want to lose it over an assumption.

But in that same vapid brain, devoid of all thoughts except cock and becoming someone's breeding bunny, he thought of a plan.

Luke was going to seduce his boss.

"Well, our lunch is over, Luke. Time to head back," Ashton threw away his trash from lunch, washing his hands before putting his white coat back on. Luke liked the sight of the doctor's figure in his scrubs.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Irwin," Luke stood, making sure to bend over a little when he threw his sucker stick into the bin. He listened for any sounds of disgruntlement, but all he heard was Ashton's footsteps as he walked to the door.

Luke followed, grateful that Ashton had waited to hold the door for him. Could he get anymore dreamy?

"You're with me in room 5, Luke," Ashton said, "Just a 9 month old's check up, but I need a nurse to help me when they get their first round of shots. Usually when the mums try to help, the baby ends up crying more. No biggie. It's still slow since school isn't back in session." He was checking over the baby's medical record. Luke was checking him out. His future husband knew everything. He had to be good in the bedroom.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Irwin," Luke gushed, correcting his tone when he heard himself. He hoped he didn't sound too smitten already. He had a hard time controlling himself around Ashton, especially when he was talking all smart about doctor stuff.

"Luke, don't call me sir. That's for when we're alone in the break room," Ashton teased without looking up from the paperwork in his hands. Luke gasped under his breath, feeling his cheeks burn hot.

Maybe his plan wasn't so vapid after all.

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ouyangzizhensdad · 4 years

Note

I'm reading through some of your meta and in the one about WWX possibly weaponizing MXY being gay you mention how MXY being a molester was fabricated. I agree with this but I always thought that this was a personal headcanon and didn't realize that it was supported by canon. If you're up to it, please may you point me to where it might say this?

Hi anon,

I’m sad to report that there isn’t a scene where JGY admits before a jury that yes, it was I, I fabricated the claims against Mo Xuanyu, who was a hapless victim all along! which would be convenient for winning arguments quickly and easily. But, I promise you, so long as we read between the lines, it is undeniable that we are meant to understand by the end of the novel that the accusations leveled against Mo Xuanyu were baseless and that he was another victim of JGY’s (and NHS’s!) machinations.

Beyond a purely thematic reading of the novel, which would therefore highlight that the theme around how public opinion is willing to believe accusations and condemn without material or sensible proof (particularly so when it comes to people who do not hold a lot of power within society, those who are the Other) is one that is repeated across many characters, the narrative reveal of JGY’s true personality and actions indicates that the accusations against MXY were just another ploy of JGY’s.

At the very beginning of the novel, when WWX looks through Mo Xuanyu’s things, he’s able to piece out together that Mo Xuanyu’s “lunacy” seemed rooted in a deep and paranoiac fear of.... something. MXY didn’t just get thrown out of the Sect in disgrace--something clearly happened to him, or he clearly witnessed something that scared him out of his senses.

“after he returned, he seemed to have gone completely mad—although no one could tell what kind of shock he’d suffered. He had good days and bad ones. It was as if he had been scared witless.” [Chapter 1]

Further into the novel, it is revealed that MXY didn’t actually harass his “peers” but actually only one person: Jin Guangyao. Right after this reveal, we also learn that MXY used to treat JGY with the utmost respect and deference. While Jin Ling seems to misunderstand this past deification of JGY as a side-effect of MXY’s presumed feelings for him, as readers we can see how it actually raises doubts into the claims leveraged against MXY, as it would then seem very out of character for MXY to disrespect JGY by harassing him (especially if one considers that the risks of harassing his powerful half-brother definitely would not outweigh the benefits....).

“Don’t listen to [JGY],” said Wei Wuxian. “Let me tell you—when you grow older, you’ll find out that there are more and more people you want to beat up, but you’ll have to force yourself to get along with them nicely. So, since you’re still young, go beat up all the people you want. At such an age, if you don’t have a few proper fights, your life won’t be complete.”

Jin Ling’s face betrayed faint yearning, yet he still sounded contemptuous, “What are you talking about? Shushu’s advice is for my own good.”

After he spoke, he suddenly remembered that the past Mo Xuanyu had always regarded Jin Guangyao as a deity. He definitely would not have disagreed with Jin Guangyao in any way. Yet, now he was saying not to listen to him. Was it that he really did not hold any improper thoughts toward Jin Guangyao anymore?

(we also learn that Zewu-jun never knew about what supposedly happened, or even who MXY was, which again.....fishy.... JGY what are you hiding...... not mentioning someone harassed you to your bff is one thing, but not introducing him to your half-bro?.... )

Then! Almost right after we learn all this new information, it is also revealed through WWX’s paperman adventures and NMJ’s adventures that JGY is not who he has presented himself to be: he is a master manipulator, who has lied and continues to lie to preserve his position and to eliminate people he perceives as threatening the place he carved for himself in sweat and tears and blood.

At this point, the deal is pretty much sealed: we have an unreliable witness in the man we now know to be able to do incredibly scary and cruel things (a knowledge that will only be reinforced by the end of the novel once NHS’ plan is completed). What actually happened, how MXY went from someone who deified JGY to someone who would need to be sent away in disgrace and scared into silence and compliance, all this is not told to us by the novel. It is possible that JGY might have seen MXY as a potential accomplice to his deeds (like he did his other half-brother, XY) (EDIT: I DREAMED UP THAT XY was one of JGS’s bastard children, please disregard it), or that he might have seen MXY as a potential threat to his position because of they shared a father--honestly, I can see many possibilities here!

Also, it is important to consider that even the claim of MXY’s “lunacy” is pretty fraught and ambiguous. The novel ends up setting up the idea that MXY’s erratic behaviour was related to him being scared (as we see in the and frustrated at the injustice he received at the hands of both the Jin Sect and his family (for example, this piece of shino meta)

Finally, it’s a good time to remember that even MXY’s sacrifice was not a decision he made on his own: he was once again the victim of a mastermind with much more power and influence than he could ever dream to have. After all, the novel takes pain to explain to us that NHS’s schemes for revenge depended on MXY sacrificing himself (passage under the cut because this post is getting long!)

“Nie-zongzhu,” Wei Wuxian asked again. “I heard that you often travel between the Gusu Lan sect and the Lanling Jin sect, am I right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then did you really not recognize Mo Xuanyu?”

“Ah?” Nie Huaisang’s face twitched slightly.

“I remember that the first time I met you after my soul had been offered into his body, you acted as if you did not recognize me, and even asked Hanguang-jun who I was. Mo Xuanyu was then entangled anyhow with Jin Guangyao during that time* and was able to access even his secret collections, and you often went to find Jin-zongzhu to complain. Even if you and Mo Xuanyu were not familiar with each other, did you really not see him before at all?”

Nie Huaisang scratched his head, saying, “Wei-xiong, Jinlintai is so huge, I can’t possibly recognize everyone, even if I’ve seen them, I can’t remember. Moreover…”

Looking rather awkward, he continued, “You know about Mo Xuanyu’s identity back then, it’s slightly…...the Lanling Jin sect had tried their best to hide it, so it wouldn’t have been surprising if I had never met him before. Even Xichen-ge may not have met him before.”

“Oh, that’s true. Zewu-jun did not know who Mo Xuanyu was either.”

“Right! And what I don’t understand is, even if I had seen Mo Xuanyu before, why would I pretend not to recognize him? Was there such a need?”

Wei Wuxian laughed and replied, “Nothing much, I just thought it strange and was casually asking.

However, he thought, He was simply trying to see whether the ‘Mo Xuanyu’ he met was the real one.

For someone who was said to have been cowardly and weak, where would have Mo Xuanyu gotten the courage to sacrifice himself and offer his soul?

And as for Chifeng-zun’s left hand, why was it discarded? It could not be that Jin Guangyao would accidentally lose it.

Moreover, why was it that it happened to appear right at the Mo family residence, just when Wei Wuxian had been reincarnated, but not somewhere else?

If Chifeng-zun’s body had been buried by the QingheNie sect, would Nie Huaisang, who had always respected his older brother, not notice that his body had disappeared all these years?

Wei Wuxian was inclined to believe an alternative situation.

[...]

As such, [NHS] thought of another person; Mo Xuanyu, who had just been kicked out of the Golden Pavilion.

Perhaps in order to let Mo Xuanyu listen to him, Nie Huaisang had already spoken to him before and heard from an upset and anguished Mo Xuanyu that he had seen one of Jin Guangyao’s scrolls of forbidden spells recording a certain ancient demonic spell. He then took advantage of the Mo Xuanyu, who was then humiliated and bullied by his clan, to persuade him to perform the spell as revenge**.

And which fierce corpse would he summon?

Naturally, he would summon the Yiling Patriarch.

Unable to bear the days of humiliation any longer, Mo Xuanyu finally drew the array, and Nie Huaisang also took the chance to throw out the hot potato that was burning his hand: ChiFeng-Zun’s left arm.

From there on, his plan had begun and he no longer had to spend his own time and energy to find Nie Mingjue’s remaining body, leaving the dangerous and troublesome job to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. All he had to do was watch their actions closely. [Chapter 109]

*I changed the translation here, which originally said that “Mo Xuanyu was harassing Jin Guangyao” since I find (at least with my limited linguistic skills lmao) that the original is much more ambivalent. The clause is 莫玄羽当年好歹也纠缠过金光瑶, and the use of 好歹 signals to me toward ambivalence, which is further compounded by the fact that the verb 纠缠 does not necessarily translate to harassment. So I doubt that the original intent was to suggest that WWX was saying to NHS: shouldn’t you have known the dude who was harassing JGY? Anyone who knows Chinese more than I do is free to come and correct me if I am completely wrong in my assessment.

**Okay I changed the translation here again because the translation I was working with made it seem as if MXY was motivated by shame? but the original Chinese says 他便怂恿当时饱受族人欺辱的莫玄羽 which to me clearly points to his treatment by the Mo family/clan and to the fact that it was something being done unto him, not a state of mind he had.

#anon ask #mdzs meta #mo xuanyu #mxy #jgy #jin guangyao #nhs #nie huaisang #meta post follow-up #Anonymous

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alysmarylin · 5 years

Text

The fic you've been waiting for

Crowley avenging his beloved angel - Sandalphon got what he deserved (don't thank me, reblog instead)!!!!!!!!

Crowley and Aziraphale were unpacking the stuff they bought on a big shopping Sunday, and to this very day Crowley can't remember why and how they ended up talking about Aziraphale's, well... Ex-kin.

"I kinda enjoyed Michael", Crowley laughed. "Rather good-looking. Uriel, on the other hand..."

"Don't get me started on Uriel and Sandalphon", Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I hate their guts"

"Sandalphon was a tough prick, I remember. And uglier than Belzebub", Crowley sneered.

"You don't say. He works in my place now, homophobic son of a... They couldn't have picked a worse candidate", Aziraphale said in a somewhat hurt voice.

"Don't worry, angel. Soon enough, he will receive some beating from locals, I tell you"

"Yeah, I should've definitely punched that bastard back", Aziraphale muttered under his nose quietly, angrily.

" Yeah, you bet...", Crowley laughed and then stopped abruptly. "W-w-wait, wait-wait-wait. Back? What do you mean, back?". Crowley stood up from the floor and stepped up to Aziraphale.

" Nothing, really"

"No, not nothing". Crowley's eyes were widened in shock. " Do you mean, that, that piece of shit HIT you?!"

Aziraphale lowered his eyes. It looked like the memory wasn't pleasant. Crowley was gasping.

"When? When did it happen? How come I didn't know?", Crowley was not yet angry but more frightened. " Angel, look at me. Talk to me. Someone battered you and I know nothing of it?!"

"No one battered me. I was walking back to my bookshop and Michael, Uriel and... And he approached me, I was questioned..."

"Where the Hell was I?" - Crowley asked, astonished.

"You drove home", Aziraphale said quietly and sadly.

Crowley tilted his head backward and sighed with despair. "I should've known... ". He lowered his head and looked at Aziraphale with sadness and pain. Aziraphale looked confused and lost.

" What did he do? Tell me, angel", Crowley stepped closer, putting his hand on Aziraphale's arm, leaning closer. "Tell me. He's dead"

"Don't you dare, Crowley, we got away and I won't..."

"What did he do to you? What? Why didn't you tell me? I was up there, I saw him, I could've..."

"Because I didn't want you to", Aziraphale answered bitterly. " I needed you to be concentrated and cool-headed. You freed me from them, same as I did for you. That's all that matters"

"No, it's not. You look sad, you look hurt", Crowley said, cupping Aziraphale's cheek. " Otherwise you would've forgotten".

"He punched me in the stomach, alright?", Aziraphale said with a lump in his throat. His lower lip trmbled a bit. "It wasn't as painful physically as it was humiliating".

Crowley looked down on his angel's belly - soft, beautiful, beloved and precious - and everything before his eyes suddenly became red as blood.

"I told you because I trust you, but if you dare approach him or pull out something stupid like that, I will leave you, Crowley", he heard Aziraphale's voice from some distance.

"Do you hear me? Answer me, Crowley"

Crowley felt his head filling with lead from within.

"I will not approach him. I swear it"

"Good", he hears Aziraphale say. " I'll finish unpacking"

Crowley stopped Aziraphale, holding him by the arm. He embraced him from behind, wrapping one of his arms around his chest and putting his hand gently on the angel's belly. He buried his nose in his soft blonde curls and muttered: "I love you".

"I love you too", Aziraphale answered softly, "Now let me finish".

Crowley looked at him, picking up paper bags and arranging the stuff around the room, looking small and soft and lovely. Somehow it made his silent rage all the more burning and red became crimson in his eyes. He swore he wouldn't approach that sick fuck who laid his dirty hands - no, he couldn't bear to think of it - on Aziraphale

... But he said nothing of his friends.

***

Crowley pulled his hood further on his forehead

"Pleasure to see you, Jay. You look like a heroin addict in that hoody", said Phil.

"I have to hide my hair somehow. Rare color"

Crowley was nervous and feeling restless.

"Yep. You're drop-dead gorgeous lad, we get it. To what I owe the pleasure?"

"I need to track someone down. Name's Saldanphon but he changes his IDs every now and then. You'll have to check for anything similar. Don't have a picture, but I draw him", Crowley laid a piece of paper on a table. The drawing looked fairly accurate. " Looks middle-aged, a bit fat, bald, ugly, has a golden tooth. A homophobe might be hanging around gay bars and the likes to preach or intimidate or whatever he does. That's all I have as of now".

"Well", Phil sighed " It's doable. But it will take a while. Any family?"

"No, none at all"

"I see. The golden tooth is indeed something". Phil looked at Crowley's hand. "You got married?"

"Ugh, yeah", Crowley answered looking around. " You know how to, ehm, tell me of the progress?"

"I've been around longer than you", Phil said wearily, and Crowley had to keep his mouth shut on that remark, " You'll know when I find something. Just one more thing. This, ehm, funny-named morality apostle. What exactly are you planning? He's gonna go?"

"No, not go", Crowley said with sheer disappointment "Plainly be taught a lesson. He put his shitty hands where he shouldn't have".

"Are you gonna call our mutual friend?", Phil raised his eyebrows. " If you want to make it clean, it's the best way. They'll never track his men down. Just food for thought, Jay. A piece of advice from the old man"

"That sounds reasonable", Crowley nodded, as if he had had any idea what to do next when he came to Phil, " I'll think about it. Thank you. Wanna count?". He put a book - a fake book, of course - on a table.

"Here? Oh, please. Trust me, if I don't find what I intend to find here, you'll know", Phil put a book in his bag and stood up. " Have a nice day, kid. Next time, wear something else"

Crowley waited for ten more minutes before leaving the diner. It was only when he was in a crowdy underground station when he put the hood off. He had to be cautious. For everyone's sake.

***

"Do you really think it's a good place, Jay?", said a tall and broad bald man in a leather jacket, trying to sit comfortably on a bench by a pond.

"The best one, in terms of privacy", said Crowley, looking grimly from his hood. " So. You said you owe me a favor all the way back from 1999. I didn't need anything for a long time, but now..."

"How do you manage to look so young, you sick bastard?", the man asked, chuckling, trying to look at Crowley's face. " You look just like my son, and that sad excuse of an heir is 27 now, not something you could tell by the way he speaks, though, I'd give him 10 in that department, still... How old are you, anyway?"

"I use a strong sunscreen. And I have good genes. Good, hardworking Irish people, my entire family. Will you listen or not, Patsy?"

A bald man stopped laughing and sighed.

"Of course. What seems to be the problem?"

"Our mutual buddy, Phil, tracked down a guy I need you to deal with. Here's what I've got on him", Crowley took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to a man without so much as looking at his side. " I want your people to teach him a lesson. He's gotta stay alive. I can't be seen. But I need to watch it from a distance. I know you're ready to do this, but still" - Crowley took out something that looked like a book and put it on Patsy's lap still without looking at him - "this is some additional motivation for you, or a token of a good will, if you wish to call it that way".

Patsy put down an apparently-book-thing in his suitcase and opened a piece of paper. He looked at Crowley, frowning.

" What kind of a lesson do you want him to be taught, exactly?"

"If your boys will do it properly, he'll need new teeth", Crowley said, finally turning his head to his counterpart, looking him in the eyes from beneath his shaded. "The whole damn package. And the old ones, I want to have them. Every single one. Especially the golden one. No internal bleeding, no injuries to any organs. You can break a couple of ribs, but carefully. As you wish. But I need his teeth"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jay", the Patsy man said, looking flabbergasted. " What did this son of a bitch did to you so you became such a butcher"

"He laid his shitty hands where he shouldn't have", Crowley hissed, grinding his teeth. His hands clenched in fists.

" You didn't tell me you were married. Was this your wife?", Patsy asked warily.

"I have no wife, but I am indeed married", Crowley answered. " I know you're one of the few people of your occupation who don't look down on things like that. I love him. But I swore I won't touch this bastard myself. I don't have much choice, Pat"

"I'm sorry it happened to your, well, spouse", Patsy said carefully. " But the guys that I have in my crew are not as open-minded as I wish they were. You know it yourself. Ours is not the most prestigious job. I'll do this favor, but when you're sitting in a car with them, better keep the personal personal".

They shook hands.

"I'll be waiting for your call. You know which number to call, and which not to", Crowley said, standing up. "I'm looking forward to seeing your team at work".

***

Crowley was staring into the field glasses, trying looking at two tall men in leather jackets dragging a bald man resembling Sandalphon, gagged and tied up, to a torch on the abandoned parking lot. The jeep where Crowley and his associates were sitting was right in its darkest corner.

It was Christmas Eve, the 24th of December. The snow was falling gloriously, but the place was too grim and damp for the fairy-tale-like spirit.

“You see them, Cap?”, a young driver, sitting by Crowley’s side asked.

“It looks like him, but I need insurance. I remember his voice. Call them”

One of the guys on the backseat dialed a number and one of the bouncers took the phone.

“Our cap wants so be sure it’s the guy. Let him speak”

He turned on the speakerphone. Soon enough Crowley heard Sandalphon screaming something like:

“I’ll give you anything you want, please, untie me, I need my hands, I…”, before Crowley nodded and Sandalphon became silent again. The phone was turned off and Sandalphon was dragged to a small staircase, and Crowley had to pay very close attention, looking into field glasses again, to recognize what was going on.

“Are you sure your people can do ALL the teeth in one go?”, he asked a bit unsurely.

“You insult us, Mr. Jay. It is our signature. One strike, all teeth. Leaves a strong message”, murmured a young man behind him.

“Well, then…”, Crowley started, but then he saw something rather outstanding, that made him make a certain sound: “Oi, woah… That was surprising… Alright, gentlemen, pardon me for my previous skepticism. I take that back. On second thought, I even refuse to take, the, ehm, the evidence”

He then heard his phone ring. It had to be Aziraphale. He had to answer. He quickly took the phone and blurted:

“Angel, honey, I can’t talk, I’m very busy, buying you a surprise, I’ll call you back in ten, love you”, without letting him even say a word. He figured out it would be more secure.

“Wife?”, asked a second young man, with a smile.

“Yeah. Sort of. Listen, I think I’d rather be going, are they done with the teeth? At the end of the day, I’ll think I’m more than happy without them. I don’t wanna take ‘em. I saw what you did, it was amazing. Drop me at the underground station, please… Else my, ehm, spouse, will be suspecting something, which I don’t fancy, like, at all”.

Crowley was very relieved when they drove away.

***

Crowley thought he had never had such a lovely Christmas morning. Angel was by his side, in his lovely tartan pajamas, they were tucked under the blanket, sipping tea and lazily switching the channels on telly.

“I thought I hated Christmas”, Crowley said quietly, as he lowered his head to Aziraphale’s, planting a soft kiss on his temple. “Now you made me love it. What next, angel?”

“You’ll stop wearing all black?”, Aziraphale answered, with a sarcastic smile.

“Naah, not in this life and not in the next”, Crowley said leisurely, switching the channels. Then he saw the news.

“… The victim of this horrific Christmas assault is alive, but severely traumatized – his teeth were…”

That was something Crowley didn’t account for – the bloody news.

“Ugh, what is it with these people”, he said with a trembling voice, trying desperately to sound casual, turning the telly off. “It’s only violence on this television, I’ll better put on some music. And make you some tea”, Crowley said, standing up.

“Dear boy”, Aziraphale said softly. “I’d like some tangerines. Would you be so kind as to bring your husband a plateful of those?”, he smiled. Crowley looked like he was melting from the inside.

“Every time you say the h-word I can’t say no to anything, angel. I’ll be in 15, a’right”

Crowley sighed with relief as he stepped into the kitchen. He was off the hook now, but some time from now, the angel might still learn about what happened. Will he be able to understand?

“All I did, I did for you”, Crowley thought in pain. “I love you so much I couldn’t stop it. He had to pay, my love, he had to”. Crowley felt tears fill his eyes, as he was putting tangerines in a bowl, but he was able to will them away. “I’d kill for you, I’d die for you, Aziraphale”, he thought with anguish. “I hope you know that whatever comes. I hope you will forgive me for what I had to do”.

***

With Crowley gone, Aziraphale was finally able to read the newspaper.

“Broken teeth, that’s a good take”, he thought smugly, as he read the weekly crime report. “See, Sandalphon. What goes around, comes around, next time you want to apply brutal force to your… arguments, better remember this, no? Though I doubt there will be the next time”

Aziraphale smirked. What his husband lacked in logic and cautiousness, he made up in loyalty and protectiveness. Blind loyalty and fierce protectiveness.

“You’re such an idiot, Crowley”, Aziraphale thought tenderly. “Really, A-J? To think I wouldn’t know? Me, famous Mr. Fell of Soho?”

That very evening, when he received a phone call from Phil and heard of some “heroin junkie looking” guy calling himself “Tony Jay” or “A J”, or, God have mercy, “Jay”, of all things, he knew it has to be Crowley.

“Wearing a black hoodie on top of his shades, really. It’s a miracle he didn’t get busted for drug possession”. Maybe it was indeed a miracle.

Truth be told, he wasn’t angry. He couldn’t approve openly, but there was a certain warmness in knowing that a homophobic golden-toothed prick who assaulted him now got what was coming for him.

“But I can’t encourage this sort of behavior in Crowley”, he thought, hiding his smile. “Now, dear boy, you need to control your impulses. At least, most of the time”.

Still, Aziraphale knew that he was one of the luckiest men – well, not really men, but… - alive, for his partner would stop at nothing to protect him.

“If only he would’ve acted a bit cleverer… Well, I suppose you can’t have it all. He’s beautiful, caring, kind, sweet, fiercely loyal and sexy as Hell, in the most literal sense of this word. It’s only natural he has to be a complete idiot to not let me forget myself. Oh, he brought me the cannoli the other day… This boy watched The Godfather too many times”.

“Angel!”, Crowley said, entering the room with a bowl full of tangerines. “What are you smiling at?”

“I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have you, dear boy”, Aziraphale answered with a loving smile.

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stoopsbookstore · 5 years

Text

Fansite

Synopsis- After months of being fanboys, Hyunjin and his friends arennew fansites for the girl group, Hue, and after several misadventures, the group is starting to recognize them, Hyunjin in particular, as the most memorable fanboys they've met.

"None of these photos came out right, they're all blurry," Jaemin slammed his laptop shut in anger, "how am I supposed to be the best Cerise fansite out there if I can't even catch her in moment? Look! Her hair looks amazing, but her face is all blurry because Lil-"

A pillow hit the boy in the face as Hyunjin looked up from his laptop, "Don't blame Lilac! It's not my fault your camera is 4 years old and there's dust inside of it."

"At least he didn't drop our gift to them. Starbucks aren't cheap, that order had to be like 30 dollars," Gai pointed out to the group, fixing the TV signal, "I'll never forget the look on Bai's face when that black coffee with 2 sugar packets fell the group."

"To be fair, it was only 20 dollars because Cerise isn't supposed to have caffeine since she was in the hospital back in February and the doctor told her to cool it."

"Stop being such a fanboy," Hyunjin swatted Jaemin's hair as he collected the pillow from the floor.

Hyunjin, Jaemin, Gai and Jongho were having a monthly meeting for their favorite girl group, Hue, and this is their first meeting as official fansites of the girls. Gai's bias was Emerald, Jaemin's was Cerise, Jongho couldn't decide between Cierra or Bai and Hyunjin immediately fell for Lilac, as known as Y/N. The boys sat around the tv as Hue's interview started.

"Color the sky! Hi, we are Hue!" The girls cheeted in unison, each dressed in their respective color.

"We are so proud of our Shades. Because of you all, we have our first win for 'Borealis,' and we couldn't be anymore thankful," Cierra, the group's leader, dressed in a black tanktop, black shorts and fishnets with boots, spoke.

"We also have another announcement!" Cerise, the main dancer dressed in a short pink plaid skirt and a matching t-shirt, pointed to the camera.

"Yes, we do, Cerise!" Emerald, the main rapper clad in a green outfit similar to Cierra, continued the prepared speech, "we're inviting several fansites to an exclusive fanmeet!"

"That we are!" Bai, the maknae in a white, off the shoulder dress spoke, "Lilac is going to announce the 40 fansites who are coming to this special event happening in 2 days at Thalian Hall."

As soon as the girl in the purple v-neck t-shirt with matching high-waisted shorts and garter belts came on the screen, Hyunjin was mesmerized. A chorus of birds spinning around his head as he imagined his life with Lilac.

"Oh, Lilac! I love you so much!"

"Hyunie! We're getting married! Please call me Y/N!"

"Oh Y/N, my bride! My princess!"

He broke out of his daydream as Jongho started shaking him.

"We're going to the event! This time as official people! We're going to get passes and get to see them up close!" Jongho yelled in Hyunjin's face.

"We can make up for all those fanmeets where Hyunjin destroyed a set piece!" Gai cheered, running to clean his camera.

"Or accidentally hit a bodyguard!" Jaemin kissed the TV screen when Cerise showed up, disgusting Jongho as he patted Hyunjin on the back, "or all the times we tried to give them little gifts, only for Hyunjin to get them taken or ruin them."

"Bro! This is our chance! We actually get to talk to the girls for a little bit and even hold their hands! We finally get to have photos that we can edit! We can make our own gifs!" Jongho cheered, jumping up and down on the sofa.

Hyunjin sat stunned, he has an opportunity to make up for his slip-ups. He still doesn't forgive himself for accidentally spilling a unicorn frappuccino for Y/N down a bodyguard's back.

'Hopefully she has forgotten about that incident'

"Ok, guys," Hyunjin opened his laptop on the table, hyping the group up, "if we're going to impress the girls, we should practice!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Color the sky! Hi, we wre Hue!" The girl group announced their presence as the small 40-person audience cheered.

"We are so proud of you Shade, that we had to do something special," Cyan spoke in the microphone, a small amount of feedback fading in and out.

"I already see a few familiar faces out there," Emerald waved her lightstick in the air, "Emmy's World, who has been to every event since pre-debut! A legendary Shade, if I do say so myself."

The crowd laughed as the sound of shutters and the bright flashes went off, capturing the girls in every moment. Hyunjin watched as the crowd had different techniques to get the girls' attention. Emmy's World had a sign above their camera that said "Emerald, over here!" Another fansite called Light Cream for Bai had a polar bear plushie taped to the top of their camera and Jaemin was dressed head to toe in hot pink for Cerise, becoming the fansite Neon Flamingo.

Hyunjin felt like he was disassociating, this isn't his real life, it's just a dream and he's going to wake up soon, Gai is going to freak out because he found a cute picture of Emerald that actually allowed editing, Jaemin will be attempting to DM Cerise and Jongho will be making a pros-cons list of having a double bias.

Hyunjin heard his fansite name, Field of Lilacs, through the speaker. He walked to the front of the crowd, shooting photos of Y/N as she posed in a purple mid-thigh skater skirt, her off-white lilac-hued button up tucked into the skirt.

"Hey," Y/N pointed at Hyunjin, "you're the coffee guy, right?!"

Hyunjin wished to shrink in on himself as he felt everyone's eyes on him, some burning holes into his head. Hyunjin kept his head down, looking at the pictures he took, ashamed of the fact he's known as the coffee guy. He wanted to run away, but he continued to take photos.

A wave of guilt came over Y/N. Maybe she shouldn't have brought that up, she just wanted to make the cute guy with the light blue shirt knew he was actually one of the fans the girls knew and talked about all the time.

'Does he feel bad about the coffee? It was just an accident...'

Y/N whispered to Emerald, no one could tell for Y/N had hid her mouth by her hand. After Emerald had talked to one of their managers, Y/N kept her eye on Hyunjin, who felt awkward the rest of the event.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys! Holy shit, we have so many good photos! Look at Cyan!" Gai flipped through his camera roll as Jaemin and Jongho were looking at each other's photos.

Hyunjin sat on a bench outside the event hallway, kicking his feet as he played with the camera strap. The other three boys were running around like chickens with their heads cut off when Hyunjin was approached by a tall man.

"Ms. Y/N is asking for you," the bodyguard towered over Hyunjin, the intimidation factor causing Hyunjin to go wide-eyed, "Nothing bad. She just wishes to talk to you privately."

Hyunjin took a glimpse at his friends, who were still comparing photos and talking about their favorite moments, "Uuhh, yea, sure."

The pair walked down the hallway, heading towards a double door which led to the Hue tour bus and the five members standing outside the bus, making sure they have all their luggage.

"Thanks Davey," Y/N dismissed the bodyguard as he patted Hyunjin's back, the boy lurching forward, Y/N's hands catching his shoulders and helping him avoid falling.

"Umm, sorry," Hyunjin kept curled up in himself.

"No, oh my God, I should be sayimg sorry to you. I didn't realize you were embarrassed by the whole coffee situation," Y/N apologized, feeling genuinely awful about the situation, "I know some of the fansites were plotting your demise by the way they were staring at you."

Hyunjin sported a small smile, "honestly, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting it from my ultimate bias."

"Oh?!" Y/N dramatically put her hand over her heart, "little old me?! Your ultimate bias? I think Neon Flamingo may be my favorite fansite."

Hyunjin and Y/N started laughing, the awkwardness fading as they continued to stand around each other. They shared glances at each other until Y/N reached into her bag, pulling out a piece of paper and a purple pen.

"Here. It's my personal profile," Y/N handed Hyunjin a piece of paper, hiding it under Bai's camera, "be careful, if it gets out, Davey is going to blame you and he knows your face very well."

"I can buy him a coffee if it would make him feel better," Hyunjin adjusted the bag on his shoulder, easing his fidgetiness.

Y/N and Hyunjin stood in comfortable silence as the three other boys started shouting for their missing friend.

"I should probably go as well, we have rehearsals tonight," Y/N softly smiled at Hyunjin, "it was really nice actually getting to talk to Mr. Disaster."

Hyunjin chuckled at the nickname, realizing he's still holding Bai's camera, "if you don't mind, may I get one photo?"

"I don't think Bai would mind," Y/N took the camera, putting her hand on Hyunjin's waist as she extended her arm out.

The camera flashed and she kissed Hyunjin's cheek, the photo printing out as she handed it to Hyunjin. Hue's manager started yelling for all the girls to get in the bus, Y/N running and waving back at Hyunjin.

"I'll see you later," Y/N shouted as the door to the bus closed, leaving Hyunjin with the photo of the pairing.

Putting the small photo in his phonecase, Hyunjin unlocked his phone, opening an app and adding Y/N. After a short bit, his phone pinged with a notification he never thought he would see.

"LilacLovesHue has added you!"

#stray kids au #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin

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epic-games-official · 7 years

Note

You don't care at all how homophobic and invalidating it is for heterosexual females with dysphoria to target male homosexuality for gender validation. We didn't choose to be gay. We were born this way. We're exclusively same sex attracted and you bigots are bending over backwards to reassure each other that bisexual men who date trans guys aren't really bisexual. You're fucking nuts and we're tired of sustaining your delusions when you harm us. Eel referenced John Money, are you fucking serious

Joy, I’m getting these now lol

I’m not “targeting male homosexuality.” Honestly there’s a 99% chance if I saw a pic of you, I wouldn’t even think you’re attractive, and if I knew you personally, I’d think you’re a stupid asshole and want nothing to do with you. It’s fine if gay men repulsed by vulvas don’t want to fuck people with vulvas (of course), but not every gay man is repulsed by vulvas. Honestly, there’s a blurry line between being bi and gay when someone is bi leaning in one direction, or attracted to vaginas only if they’re attached to someone with male secondary sex characteristics. My own sexuality’s in that area where I don’t totally know if “bi” or “gay” is a better word to describe it. Does it really matter though? Bi and gay men are usually in the same spaces anyway.

If a guy is gay, he’s attracted to men. Some of those men might not have dicks. Like, if a cis guy had his dick mangled in an accident and got phalloplasty, terfs wouldn’t shit on his phallo results for that, but when it’s a trans guy with phallo, they’re quick to say how much they hate it aesthetically. Fun fact: It’s the same fucking surgery either way, so you’re also being an asshole to cis people who’ve had genital reconstructive surgery. If you make fun of mastectomy scars, you’re also making fun of cis men who had gynecomastia and got a mastectomy.

But I looked through that gc bear guy’s blog, and honestly any time someone puts a good argument in his path he just comments with something vague like “wow this is stupid.” Iunno what crawled up his ass but he’s clearly not interested in having a fair discussion on this, he’s just trying to be an asshole to gay trans men.

I didn’t choose my own identities either, those are both also caused by differences in prenatal development.

I get the sense that he thinks his difficulties with prejudices are exclusive to LGB people (trans people have to come out too my friend). He thinks he’s the only one who had to hide himself when he was young (some trans people transition when they’re very young and know what it’s like to grow up gay/lesbian, some hide it for years before they come out, and after a trans person has transitioned, if they pass and are out with their partner in public, people will give them shit). He thinks only cis gay men feel the effects of homophobia. Is he interested in hearing the experiences of gay trans men? ‘Cause I can tell you that there were times as a teenager I wanted to kill myself because I read about a gay man getting attacked in the news, and I had the same experience as cis gay men of worrying that would be my own future. I felt the mocking and stereotyping was directed at me, and that fujoshi and fag hags were something I should feel personally annoyed about. This is before I even knew I was trans, that I was being hurt by homophobia directed at men, because of my gender identity and dysphoria. I had to come out to my parents too, I had to deal with my sister being homophobic. I feel that my experience isn’t that different from a lot of “straight-passing” cis gay men who were in the closet as a teenager. They heard these things and it hurt, but nobody knew it was affecting them.

I’m telling you that saying to gay trans men that they chose to be gay and feeling pissed about this is not understanding that for someone with dysphoria, living their entire life as their birth gender would feel just as terrible as a cis gay guy never coming out and marrying a woman. You’re telling people to just stay in the closet, continue having dysphoria, keep living that shitty life, because what? You personally don’t want to fuck trans men and somehow feel threatened they exist?

You’re acting like I don’t care about gay men, but consider the following: My future partner is likely to be a cis gay man. I care about them because, how can I not? I have a crush on a cis gay man, and I’d never want to hurt someone I love. If he told me he weren’t interested because of my biology, I’d respect his boundaries. But gay trans men being rejected by cis gay men isn’t bound to happen, because not all cis gay men’s sexuality works the same way. If you don’t want to fuck a trans guy, great, go ahead and don’t fuck trans guys. Fuck if I care. But don’t go around trying to convince a bunch of trans men that nobody will ever love them. That’s just fucking sociopathic behavior.

#terfs #Anonymous

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Ronnie, Bronson, Charlie & Bea

Ronnie: I'm going on a run Ronnie: who wants? Bronson: My stash is depleted for some unknown reason 🤔 please stock me up Charlie: Ooh, new year new you babe? Charlie: couch to 5k is it aspirational af 😍 Bea: ✋ me Ronnie: fuck off i just dont need you pussies crying when you can't scav my gear Ronnie: what'll it be princess? the usual Charlie: c'mon, we've always shared everything, nothing is your own #carekidlife Bronson: Ha! That'll be why the lock on my door never sticks Bea: yep, not decided to get heavily into crack since we last spoke, just lots of amphetamines in any form you find 'em, tah, got exams coming up Ronnie: Shame Ronnie: reckon I'd like you more on the hard shit Charlie: just in case you missed the old place, man, giving you that nostalgia for when you had to padlock anything that wasn't bolted to the floor 😜 Bronson: Good times! 😀 Bea: Shame I'm not trying to be your type then, I guess Bea: soz darling, spoken for 💋 Charlie: Truly, missing that tenner a week pocket money, LUXURY! Ronnie: fucking am Ronnie: pissing jobcentre Bronson: I'll add it to your tab if you're desperate as Charlie: gotta learn to play their game, babe Charlie: not throw the board in a hissy Ronnie: 🖕 doss cunts Bea: catch me here fanning myself with sweet, sweet debt for future me to give a shit about Bronson: I'll wipe it out if you use some to keep me sweet Bea: sweet enough sugar 😘 Bea: but forreal, if you could manage that I would be your sugar mama for LIFE 🙏 Bronson: It's student loans not the feds Bronson: Easy peasy Bea: true, like all branches of the gov, pretty fucking useless Bea: but I'm an immigrant as far as they concerned so they treat me SO good 😋 Bronson: Same, but we can always stretch our hands out a little further Ronnie: To jack it and pat yourself on the back at the same time, yeah? Ronnie: calm it down Bronson: New year, new look too! Green looks ace with black 😄 Bea: Clearly do not have natural rhythm Ronnie, that's really not that difficult Bea: You're not a drummer, are you? 😕 Ronnie: get off my tits all of yous Ronnie: do you want gear or nah? Bronson: 🤐 Bea: I thought you'd already gone tbh Ronnie: not trying to score that weak gay shit Ronnie: hitting up a more reliable source like Charlie: rude, i'm RIGHT here Ronnie: are you even gay fitzy? always in my pussy lad Bronson: 😷 Bea: 🤢 Charlie: idk, ask ur man 💖 Ronnie: that'll be why me and Bron's dads did a bunk Bronson: Get yourself locked up at the same time just for the d, did you? Romantic Charlie: if the porn n the stereotypes n the rate of STIs are anything to go by...love is in the air always in cell block h Ronnie: princess'll have some handcuffs to get you on your way to that good loving Bea: 🚿🧠 anyone got any bleach? Bea: Charlie isn't worth the 💰 use cable ties, more authentic Bronson: 99 🚔 My fingers are on the button....Stop for the love of god Ronnie: Bron can help you out there Fitz Ronnie: 🤓 Bronson: Take that over a thicko label Charlie: Look, babe, know you wanna tie me down forever but do it yourself, don't involve the kid Charlie: 💍 diamond or no D, soz Ronnie: Bring a needle I'll snag a gem Bronson: Don't go there, C, I'm still riding the ear infection wave Bronson: It's been 84 years Ronnie: yeah cause you're a mong that can't turn an earring Bronson: In my defense I was a legit child Bea: nothing screams low-class like stabbing your friends for the bants Charlie: and i already scream homo loudly enough, don't need another reason to be hate crime-d, a thank you Bronson: If I didn't know you I'd guess bisexual Bronson: You can have that for free Charlie: what a smooth-talker! thanks babe 💖 Charlie: and if i didn't know you, i'd guess you were trying to see my dongle Bronson: Been there, repressed the trauma o that Ronnie: get a fucking room benders Charlie: why you being so homophobic when we all know how bad you want on princess? cliche stuck in the closet much Bea: shut up Ronnie: in your wet dreams Charles Ronnie: fuck off Charlie: oh the delicious tension Charlie: too much for either to bear Ronnie: I know where she's been Ronnie: fuck that Ronnie: like you wish you could gayboy Bronson: Wait, you fancy Fraze, Charlie? Ha Bea: Bron can you not encourage either of them Bea: thanks Bronson: Sorry my mind's just blown I thought he was out of his straight boy phase Charlie: What? Its a compliment for you, he's adorable, why else would you be with him? Ronnie: they're both annoying cunts Ronnie: match made Charlie: and never out of that phase, bro 😍 #daddyissues Bea: get his name out of your mouth bitch Ronnie: oi get your mouth off his dick Fitzgerald you heard her Ronnie: princess is raging like Ronnie: when your mans a slag and youre a prude Bea: As if Bea: Only one McKenna fucked up to go near you Bea: #singletear Charlie: Children, enough Ronnie: Bron do that final 9 she's going off 😂 Bronson: Walking away Bea: know you're hard up but as per we're all funding you getting your rocks off so run along and do it, no need to bore me trying to get your kicks Ronnie: know youre a snobby cunt but I don't work for you Bea: you don't work for anyone, not even JC gonna fund your lack of a life Ronnie: 🖕 mad cause I don't need reddies to fund myself Bea: yeah fuming Bea: if only I'd have thought of selling my body, wouldn't even NEED to be at cambs rn omg Ronnie: nailed it Bea: 😂 Bea: whodathunkit Bea: talking to the cure for cancer stuck inside a waster here Bea: and I'm the snob, okay Ronnie: fucking hell Ronnie: devvo like Bea: We can tell Bea: you don't need to shout about it, you've got the energy of a walking wasteland Ronnie: can't wait until you take some more speed and get more smug Bea: Right? Bea: Must sting, better only getting better Bea: why don't you get something to numb the pain- Ronnie: let you know how it feels when the lads come up Bronson: A rare compliment, you hitting it already? Ronnie: you'll have your share calm the fuck down Charlie: i don't want any, i'm busy Charlie: glad you all noted my silence, feel so listened to usually! hmpf Ronnie: so now you're a little bitch too Ronnie: fuck's sake Bronson: PARTY TIME, am I right? Really in the mood now thanks everyone Charlie: who's in who's pussy, dollface? Charlie: keep your shirt on, Bro 😂 got enough with the two angry feminists here Charlie: I've got previous plans, if you're really so hurt, you can save me some, no? Whaddya mean that'd hurt more? 😏 Bea: you're alright, I personally rather you weren't there, suits me 😘 Bronson: Shirts already off, too late 😜 Bea: Standard 👌 Charlie: you big man whore Charlie: when i'm not around to be predatory, too, tuttut Bronson: I'd wilt under your stare, you know you aren't missing out Charlie: our beautiful wallflower Charlie: I bagsy being a red rose, lil trashy but iconic Bronson: Thorn in our sides Bronson: accepted Bea: Nice one, babe Bea: i'll be an orchid, because i'm beautiful, ornamental and high-maintenance Bea: getting in there before any of you fucks can Charlie: though your silence IS noted, wonwon Charlie: don't be cross at me 😘 Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: you're not the only one who's busy Ronnie: got a dick in my mouth too like Charlie: such a skilled multitasker Charlie: teach me your ways Bronson: in private please Bronson: not a lesson I want to learn Bea: we're not living in that teen movie Ronnie: On my way Bea: 👍 getting cash out, meet you there Bronson: Doors on the latch

Bea: Morning sweetness 😴 Bea: manage to recover your good vibe/night? Bronson: is it? 😪 Bronson: Until now it wasn't too bad Bronson: Do you get to say the same or is it pure suffering? Bea: Wow, when you hit bae up with that morning text and he's like day=ruined 😰 thought we was forever 😉 Bea: Decided to get off with someone around the same time I lost track of yous, so it was fucking awful, don't tell me you coulda told me that Bronson: It's only the comedown I wanna dump you're welcome to come and nap 💗 Bronson: Not to be that know it all Bea: Molly's such a cruel, cruel mistress, she wants you to miss her when she's gone 💁 Bea: Poor bubba, better than waking up next to that pushy bitch from last night though, Jesus, what was her damage? Bea: I reckon he'd actually gone out and had his drunken kebab and THEN PAID TO GET BACK IN Bea: No sir, not alright Bea: Why do I bother? Bronson: But I'm shamelessly smitten, only girl for besides present company like Bronson: Whatever it is she's not the first or last sufferer Bronson: Thanks for the bail out and sorry I wasn't there to do the same with kebab Kev Bea: N'awwh 💞 glad I hold more appeal than Tina, don't need to be going down that route Bea: It's an epidemic! Basic bitches who can't get a man willing, yeah take that out on innocent onlookers who ain't buying and talk about how your ex ain't shit for being a creepy letch Bea: We see you sweets 💅 Bea: Any time, even if you weren't there to take that donner breath bullet Bea: I'd never ask that of anyone, even Ronnie, though she'd brag about not being arsed, I'm sure 😂 Bronson: Next time I'll carry gum and throw it at whoever you deem worthy Bronson: Give me the nod Bronson: It was all over her socials like we had a good night together until I got there first Bronson: Rather take out Tina and all her mates Bea: as if you don't already Bea: if only little miss would-be-rapist knew that strong jawline was from gurning up a storm 😉 Bea: not so sexy now Bronson: there's nothing in my pockets I'm just pleased to see you Bronson: Seriously though, some of those selfies had to go for that unflattering reason alone taking into account none of her other antics Bronson: I looked a state Bea: 😂 not fallen for that one before but i'll make an exception for you boo Bea: catch me in my duvet cocoon, please don't look at me 'cos same Bea: I dread to think Bea: kept off my accounts for that reason and many more, some of us have reputations to uphold, skank Bronson: want me to check Bronson: clean up the carnage Bronson: Then brunch, your treat Bea: please Bea: roleplay my IT bitch and I'll be feeling my boss best in time for a liquid lunch Bea: will have to damage control my face first, enjoy watching me lovingly whilst I turn a -2 to an 11 Bronson: Never get bored of staring at you, you know that Bronson: Make my hair great again Bronson: Thanks Bea: when you shoulda been Trump's campaign manager 😕 Bea: sort the weave, clean up that twitter Bea: what a wonderful world it coulda been Bronson: Last night proves I can't stop him pussy grabbing Bronson: Need you for that one Bea: This pussy bites back 😼 Bea: its not your fault, girls like that, if you tell her to fuck off, and rightly so, it'd be made like YOU were being a prick to her Bea: gotta bullshit these hoes sometimes, tis the only way Bronson: Or playing hard to get...they fire that one at me loads Bronson: 😦 Bea: 🤢 gross Bea: got that one myself a fair few times, when I'm not being accused of being a prude by Ronaldo, hilariously Bea: People are the worst Bea: 'cept us Bronson: It's only because she likes you Bronson: Flattering, isn't it? Bronson: Being called broken is my fave Bronson: "Who hurt you?" You are right now, fuck off before you get a slap yourself to feel the pain of Bea: Wouldn't that just be the perfect solution in their simplistic little world? If only Bea: Save myself the feelings of disgust not brought on by kebab breath Bea: Though, if you think that that's love coming from Ron, then you do have an answer to their riddle right there, not real but the masses'll take one look at her and buy it 😜 Bronson: No arguments here Bronson: Your socials are sparkling now so that's real comfort to take Bea: 💖 yay Bea: the world never need know Bea: as long as I didn't drunk dial or text Fraze, this day is looking up, tah babes Bronson: Not to be a know it all again so quick Bronson: but I'm going to go ahead and guess the answer to that one Bea: BITCH DON'T KILL MY VIBE Bea: I'm sure I'd have angry ranting in my inbox if I had Bea: or a passive indirect on the socials, come across one perchance smartiepants? Bronson: Might've Bronson: I'll spare you Bea: Noooooooooooooooooooo Bea: Coulda had it all Bea: Really sours my Bloody Mary Bea: Fuck sake, now he's going to think I FUCKED kebab kev and enjoyed it meanwhile I sit here virginal and scrubbing my mouth out with soap Bea: How's this game fair again, please remind me Bronson: It isn't Bronson: But I can't tell you to stop playing Bronson: All yours Bea: you're meant to be a superwhizkid Bea: can't you think up a strategy so I win Bronson: Thinking cap is on Bronson: Because my hair still looks shit as much as Bea: I'll fix your barnet Bea: Between you and Charlie, honestly Bea: Never known boys like it 😂 Bea: blatant lie, have you seen how particular Fraze is but he doesn't really have much hair to be stylin' so Bronson: 👴 awkward Bea: you fool Bea: not like that 😂 Bea: though I'll keep it in my backpocket for when we inevitably row later Bea: #malepatternbaldnessBITCH Bronson: Freebie to kick your day off right again Bea: if you refuse to tell me what to do, could you use your skillz for good at least and fucking disable my phone when i'm fucked Bronson: Last time I tried you tried to fight me like Bea: Look, I didn't say it was a task for the fainthearted 😉 Bea: and yes, you would be the first to succeed too Bea: but if anyone can, its my man 😘 Bronson: Ego boost before eggs Bronson: Whoa Bronson: Today is looking up Bea: Gotta keep you sweet with all the bitching I'll no doubt do at brunch Bea: such a Carrie move, like no one cares bitch, write it in your column or books or...what did she even write? Or was she just monologuing at her computer, like all been there babe but don't act like its buying you all that designer Bronson: Her real true love was that laptop Bronson: Solved it Bea: 😲 Bea: but Mr. Big Bea: clue in the name Bronson: Could be his wallet Bronson: explain the designer gear Bea: Exactly Bea: Just my type Bronson: I'd go in for it if I can spend and send him the receipts Bea: you must be aware there are websites for that Bea: get on it boy Bronson: It all gets too sexual for my tastes Bea: set out boundaries Bea: different strokes for different folks Bea: i'm SURE there's a millionaire out there that just wants to chat Bronson: 🤔 There's enough fighting off advances in the club Bronson: Shelving that until millionaires become good people Bea: not bad people by default Bea: just a bad system they profit from more than you Bronson: Getting deep in here Bronson: Truth though Bea: real talk take #2 Bea: where do you think charlie was last night? and who or what was he doing? Bronson: Good questions that I have no answer to Bronson: If he had a job we'd all know Bea: I need to know, suspense is killing me Bea: I didn't think anything beat drugs in his book Bea: somewhat encouraging? Bronson: You could ask but I doubt you'd get far enough into the real Bronson: It is Bronson: Boy's growing up? Bea: Full of the #bants them two Bronson: Since day 1 Bronson: I'm coming to get you, Barbara Bronson: Ready yourself Bea: *falls over gravestones like a dumb bitch* Bea: i'm good to go and looking fly Bronson: I'll do the coded knock Bronson: Made up rn Bea: Helpful Bronson: That's my thing Bronson: Soon, my love, soon

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