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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 2 years ago

Text

GUINEA PIG ───

jonathan crane ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I think we most fully understood each other when once I tried to kill him with a kitchen knife.” — ‘South and West’, Joan Didion

pairing. switch!jonathan crane x professor!reader

summary. you and your dear friend, jonathan crane, have an odd relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. one day, you experiment your aphrodisiac on him.

warnings. swearing, use of aphrodisiac & fear toxin, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, mention of death, murder, drugs, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink, face fucking, dubcon(?) SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. the enemies to friends to fucking pipeline is sooo real and i love it. BTW! this is really self indulgent and again, i’m a beginner to writing smut so pls don’t judge😭 the beginning is also oddly plotty, so i apologize for that.

You and your colleague, Jonathan Crane, have a harmonious, albeit slightly sick and twisted, relationship.

Your repertoires, opposite in every way, complete one another like you were made to match. You are messy, frenzied, intimate; he is neat, calculated, distant. He is impatient, histrionic, stubborn. You are tolerant, deadpan, submissive.

This is an odd, good-cop bad-cop dynamic you’ve built, but it works. Your traits uphold the order you’ve built around yourselves; you allow each other to function.

Who ever said something so codependent, so parasitic, would fall apart? That it was dangerous, destructive? Everyone, but in your case, it has been anything but.

These are the simple rules of your relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. This partnership came to bloom when, after years of competing to be the “better” psychology professor at Gotham University, he sent you a gift that sprayed with you with fear toxin, and you baked him a cake that knocked him out for 24 hours following, heart rate so low he could’ve been mistaken as dead.

“Fucking - hell,” You murmured under your breath, stumbling halfway across Gotham City to locate Crane’s absurdly lavish condo in the Diamond District, barely able to keep yourself upright.

You were being visually assaulted by dozens of images, all your phobias no matter big or small, dancing across your senses. Spiders crawled all over your body, you saw yourself about to step off a steep, snowy cliff, you felt yourself suffocate as you were buried to death in a casket. It was utter torture, and you would have to endure it until you found Crane.

You must’ve looked like one of those tweaking drug addicts from down in the Narrows, shivering, sweating, and rubbing all over your body to remove some of the “spiders” taking over your body. The terror was settling into you, into your spine like a terribly malignant disease.

At last, you found the apartment building, blearily snuck in behind a drunk couple, and scanned the mail boxes until you found J. CRANE: 525.

You headed up the elevator, grasping at the walls for dear life, feeling that growing, unmistakable sense of dread start to take over your mind. You felt like you were going mad, now, not just afflicted with something that made you look like it.

When you finally got to his door, it was left open a crack, and you welcomed the small mercy of Crane’s overarching narcissism: he didn’t lock his door, often, because most days he felt more invincible than fucking god.

“Crane!” You shouted, clutching at your head and staggering into his large apartment. “Crane!” you repeated, this time more desperate, more fearful than anything.

However, your deepest fear, at the moment, had come true. You stepped into his kitchen, and found the man laying on the floor unresponsive.

“Fuck me,” you cursed. You’d sent the man home with the cake twelve hours ago, when he took the half-day off from GSU, and you came home from your after-class tutoring hours just moments ago.

You’d opened the mystery package on your front porch promptly, and you found yourself having been gassed with a compound that made you see every little thing you were afraid of. Immediately, you’d known it was Crane; the man’s pet specialty was fear.

As for you, you wanted your… gift, to serve a reminder to him that he should not overstep your boundaries, your territory, as the psychology professor who was there first. If knocking him out was a little bit mad, he was bordering insanity for the toxin he poisoned you with.

Even so, your threat was an empty one. You weren’t counting on the man to even eat the cake - hell, you’d never seen the man consume anything but straight black coffee.

You couldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know now, and laid there on the couch of his apartment, waiting for the twelve hours to be over. Waiting for Crane, the fucking madman, to wake the hell up, blaming him for the predicament despite your very obvious involvement in it.

You breathed in and out, harried and rapid fire as you tried to focus, tried to block out the horrific things you were seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting.

(Your eyes are swarmed, viscerally, by a grotesque hallucination of your family burning to death; you hear them cry out, voices interrupted when they’re fire gets to their lungs; you smell their death, the smell of flesh burning, how the smoke chokes you — you taste their blood on your tongue, how tender a raging fire makes charred flesh.

Tender, you think on your choice of words again, and almost throw up.

What have you done, you think, and what is going through that fucked up head of yours, Crane?)

You tried to ground yourself, tether your lost mind back to Earth. You’re sitting in a field in Northwestern Ireland, you said to yourself, inhaling. Up ahead is the beach; water is crashing on the rocks. You exhaled, the wind tastes like salt, and it is just you and I, here together. It is only I and you, here, together.

Like so, 12 hours passed. Not so much passed — that word gave the connotation the hours slipped past you, the way a peaceful stream of water does; no, more accurately, it dragged by, like when an arm slips out of the ambulance cot on its way to the emergency vehicle, and drags on the concrete. The EMT’s don’t notice what’s making their trip so hard, so slow, until the hand is rubbed raw and bloody.

You repeated that mantra so many times you were starting to get queasy when you thought the words “you’re sitting in a field..” but nonetheless, the string of words kept you sane.

Sane enough, at least - you weren’t sure you’d be the same blissful person you were yesterday. Sure, you were always a little bit… unorthodox? Petty? Competitive enough to bake so many drugs into a cake your opposing professor knocks out?

But, with this — this being drugged by Crane — made you feel a piece of yourself break away. There would be no more of your life lived without knowing how fearful, well, fear, is. It's like discovering the Boogeyman and never being able to stop checking under your bed; the paranoia moves into your head and never leaves.

Crane began stirring, and your eyes opened as soon as you heard the noise. Surprisingly enough, however, you were no longer being hammered with the hallucinations that had been distressing you just half a day ago.

Had it been the mantra? The near-prayer you now swore was etched on your heart?

“Fucking…” Crane said, getting up off the floor. He was clutching his head, eyes squinted, body hunched and tense. Looks like spending half a day on the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but you didn’t give a fuck — atleast he was sleeping. If you had to be mentally destroyed by his toxin, you’d best believe you were taking the couch.

“Why - why are you here? What the hell did you do to me?” He said after noticing you, voice raspy. He hadn’t had anything to drink or eat in a while, after all.

“I could say the fucking same for you,” You muttered, giving him a pointed look. “You - what the fuck did you spray me with?”

Immediately, a twisted grin was bared on Crane’s lips, despite his fatigued demeanor. “Did you like it? My fear-toxin,” he preened, like the winning kid at a school science fair.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could control your tendencies, you’d swung back and then socked him straight in the face.

Crane double-backed, looking terribly affronted, as if he hadn’t sent you the gas knowing how it would affect you. “Ow,” is all he said, face contorting oddly around the pain.

“Yeah, “ow”. Fuck you, Crane.”

Crane raised a brow. “You’re acting like you didn’t feed me a poisoned cake!” He said incredulously.

“It wasn’t that poisoned,” you bit out, teeth gritted. “Not so poisoned I was hallucinating my family dying for twelve hours straight.”

“Ah, thanatophobia, not really one of my favourites—“ Crane started, like he was losing himself in a romantic daydream, before snapping back to reality. “Did you just say twelve hours?”

“Twelve hours for me. Twenty-four for you.” You said, reveling in how panicked he looked.

“I — that’s long enough for me to be killed a hundred times over,” he mumbled under his breath. “What the fuck did you put in that cake?”

“I never expected you to eat it, Crane. You’re fucking skin and bones, I thought you’d just throw it out.”

“What did you put in the cake?” he repeated.

“Ugh,” you sunk into the couch, “some amytal, zolpidem. Some melatonin. I didn’t measure, okay, and again, I wasn’t counting on you eating it.” You didn’t know why you had this urging feeling to respond to him, to humor his jabs, his dumb fucking theatrics, but you did anyway.

“Some amytal? Some zolpidem? Some melatonin? Jesus fucking christ - is that what you wanted? To kill me?” He was leaning down, face inches away from yours now.

You pushed him away, disgust on your features clear as day. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not some sociopathic fear-freak like you, Crane. I don’t mix compounds in my creepy little office with the thought of drugging out my fellow professor in mind. It was just an empty threat.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “Mixing barbiturates and medications into a cake sounds like an empty threat to you?”

“You know what?” You said brightly, getting up off the couch, “I don’t have to argue with you. I came to get my cure, woke up having cured myself.” Then, you burst out the door, fury rolling off you in waves, and you left.

There was something about the incident, however, that seemed to intrigue Crane to no end. Soon enough, he began entering your office during your breaks, asking to have a chat. Or, he’d walk in during your lessons, forcing you two in the hall alone. Sometimes, he’d even wait for you after school, dozing off in front of your classroom and waiting for you to exit your office.

You couldn’t tell what was making Crane so interested, but he was hanging off you and your every word like some lovesick puppy.

You, on the other hand, also couldn’t get Crane out of your head. Certainly not for some weird, fucked up reason like his, but because of what he had created. A lot of people doubted his intelligence, mostly because of his obsession on things nobody really cared about, but that obsession made way to the destructive fear-toxin you’d inhaled, and it was seriously unlike anything you’d ever experienced, hell, even read about. It was a brand new creation, and downright deadly.

Your interest in the man was more so on… keeping him in check. As rivals did. But his was on how you’d breezed past the effects of his toxin in just twelve hours. He’s expected you to go half mad, honestly. Your threat was empty… his was, decidedly, not.

By the end of the next week following the incident, you two began eating lunch together, asking for joint classes, and spending nights over at each other's places. Not in that way, of course — your way was like a group of scientists having a forever eureka, because your minds fit like perfect puzzle pieces.

Your intrigue had met his intrigue, and it felt natural, coming to a united front like that. You found you had more in common than you thought, something you should’ve found out about a long time ago, 3 ½ years kind of long time ago. Apart, you two were volatile; angry, spewing threats, attempting murder on the other. Together, however, you were absolute perfection: productive, well-mannered, motivated.

Now, fast-forward coming on two years since the incident. You and Crane - now, Jonathan, have been inseparable since that time. You two were close, closer than siblings or children and parents or couples; you felt like the same person that had been split into two. Being together was the only thing that felt right, being back at the origin, like being at home.

Fuck’s sakes, you did have the same home — you’d moved in together. Not to his, nor yours, but to a big house you bought on the outskirts of Gotham, with a big yard and an even bigger lab in the basement. It was like a scientist's amusement park.

Maybe it - this relationship of yours - was codependency. But maybe it was utter genius: your careers had both never seen so many accomplishments until you and Jonathan came together. Partly because you had a greater inspiration when coupled with the other, but, mostly because you had a body to test on during preliminary trials.

Creating things, like the fear-toxin, required human testing, and finding a way to get that done always slowed Jonathan down. Since finding you, however, it’d been a breeze.

You offered yourself up readily, given Jonathan would do the same. And, besides, Jonathan had never been worried about you and his toxin very much — after that first time you took the toxin, you could easily find yourself out of its effects. You were the only person he’d ever encountered who could do this, and it was downright fascinating. He wanted to keep you, see how that strong little mind of yours worked overtime to fight his toxin off.

You, on the other hand, rarely tested anything like that on Jonathan. Your interests lied elsewhere: what smells activate the human mind to recall memories, what are ways to accurately fight off drugs like GHB — all mental stimulation.

That, however, changed one evening, when you had been brewing up a serum for the past few weeks. You’d gotten to the point in creation where you needed to test on someone, and observe the effects.

“Jonathan,” you called out, looking down at your notes. The man in question was grading assignments for the psychology class you taught — now, in joint lessons more often than not — sitting at a desk a few metres away from you in the lab.

“Jonathan!” you repeated louder this time, looking up from your notes.

“What?” He shouted back, still hunched over on the ungodly amount of assignments he needed to mark.

“Come here. I need to test something on you.” You said, nonchalant.

That, however, piqued Jonathan’s interest to no end: you hadn’t tested anything on him in nearly a year. It hurt, a little, to test you endlessly and have nothing to give in return - so this, no matter what it was, Jonathan would take in stride.

Jonathan nodded vehemently, “Okay.” He then dropped all he’d been doing on the desk and made his way over, before sitting in the chair next to you. You made quick work, tying his arms and legs to the chair like he’d done to you so many times before. He watched you work, completely enraptured in how you looked while experimenting.

“So,” He said, tearing his sticky gaze off of you, “what’re you pumping me full of?”

You sat back in your desk chair and scratched your cheek, a little unsure how to say this. “Well, I created a serum that, once injected, would lower or lose all inhibitions of the victim. They’d be completely malleable, agreeable, if you just, um,” you fanned yourself, feeling a little too close to the man in front of you, room feeling incredibly warm.

“Just what?” He pried, leaning back in his chair.

You exhaled shakily, “if you just promise to - to provide relief to them. Sexual - relief.”

Jonathan let out an incredulous laugh. “You made a working aphrodisiac?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly — I don’t even know if it works, for sure. If you don’t want to- take it, then you don’t have to.” You offered up weakly.

“How d’you get it out of the system?” He said instead, ignoring your words and picking up the needle you had ready for him on your worktable, which was filled with a thick, pink liquid.

You flushed. “You, um, help the victim relieve themselves, until the feeling is gone.”

Jonathan looked up at you, a sly smirk on his lips. “And you were going to give this to me?”

You turned away, face red, exasperated. “I told you, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

“And let you pleasure some random guy you snatched off the street? No way,” he said, before you heard a familiar prick, small whine leaving Jonathan’s mouth.

You spun back around so fast you thought you got whiplash. “Jonathan, wait—“ you said, alarmed. You were really, seriously, considering not giving the aphrodisiac to him — it would disrupt the careful balance you and he had built over the past years.

You were afraid that if he took the serum, and let you, for lack of a better word, get him off, you wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering him needy, hot and bothered, calling your name out like it was the only word he knew.

He’d done it anyway, though. And now, you both just had to get through this… experiment.

Quickly, you grabbed your pen and notebook, ready to approach this scenario as detached and clinically as possible, ignoring the pulsing need in your insides as you saw Jonathan’s face slowly contort into a warm, heavy-lidded lustful one.

“How do you feel, Jonathan?” You said, standing further away from him so he couldn’t so much as feel your body heat on him.

“I…” Jonathan blinked rapidly, licking his lips, looking you up and down. “Warm. I just feel… warm.” He readjusted in the seat, unable to sit still. “And - kind of, tingly? Like I - well, I don’t know…”

You noted his words, as well as some of your own observations: his pupils were dilated, so much so the crystalline blue of his eyes were merely slivers, his lips were pursed, plump, and he was pink all over; pink cheeks, pink ears, pink neck. He was talkative, loose-lipped and a little out of it.

You inhaled, then exhaled, before starting the next phase of the experiment. “Jonathan, how do you feel when I touch you here?” You said, raising the back of your hand to caress his cheek.

Jonathan was affected almost immediately, eyes shutting tight. “It feels,” he said breathily, leaning into your touch, “ah… nice. Good.”

You nodded, promptly pulling away as soon as he’d finished his sentence. Subject enjoys physical touch. Jonathan then peered up at you, looking slightly… disappointed?

You shook yourself, getting back on task. “How do you feel now?” You pried, noticing he looked far more affected than before.

Beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead, making his wavy brown hair stick to his skin. He was breathing heavily, and, when you had touched him, he was extremely warm, like he had a fever.

“I’m, I…” Jonathan trailed off, eyes shutting, shaking his head. “Mmm… my head feels — fuzzy,” he bit out raspily.

“Okay. Good. It's exactly as I thought,” you murmured, continuing to scratch down notes.

You ignored him for a few minutes, writing up a list of side effects and observed results of the aphrodisiac. Then, your gaze drew back to him, who had been focussing intently on you the whole time.

“Jonathan?” you called out quietly, seeing his dazed expression. “Talk to me.”

Jonathan shuddered, leaning forward in the chair, head hanging low, “My - my body’s, hnngh… it feels— feels weird.” He bit his lip, face screwed up and tense. “I’m warm all over…”

His shoulders were hunched in, and he was trembling. You lifted a hand up to his head, petting him softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Ah…” Jonathan squeaked out at your touch, face going slack, “I feel like I need you to - to…” he sighed exasperatedly, “I need you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek conflictedly. On one hand, you needed to finish up a few more tests, meaning Jonathan would be teased - or tortured, depending on how fast the aphrodisiac was affecting him - a little longer. On the other hand, he was already a breathy mess, begging for your touch. For you.

“Fuck,” you murmured, turning away from the man who’s eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head at the way you tugged at his locks. “No, no,” you fought your internal struggle. You would not give in to his pleas - you would finish this experiment.

“Okay. Okay.” you said to no-one but yourself, extracting your hand from his velvet soft hair. “Let’s be professional about this. Jonathan, I’m going to take your clothes off, but you can’t move, and you can’t touch me, okay?”

Jonathan’s breathing became more labored as you spoke, and you swore you could see desperate tears filling his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t touch you? But… but why not?” He was practically whining for you.

“Because, Jonathan, it wouldn’t be beneficial to the experiment.” You didn’t look your partner in the eye, because his complete and total change in behavior had you feeling, quite frankly, as warm as him.

You continued by undoing the restraints on his arms and legs, and his sharp intakes of breath as your fingers brushed past his skin didn’t slip past you. Not at all.

Firstly, you undid the man’s white button-up shirt slipping it past his flushed torso. Jonathan’s skin was actually pink and warm all over, and he was breathing heavily now, gripping the chair so tight his knuckles were white.

“Are you okay, Jonathan?” you asked absently, as you began unbuckling his belt and slipping down his fly.

Jonathan’s breath hitched in his throat, and he didn’t answer you, biting down on his lower lip to stop any desperate moans from escaping him.

You finally finished undressing your partner, then redid his restraints, before you stepped back to see him fully. Jonathan was shivering, faint tear tracks on his pink cheeks, head cocked back.

“It’s just - one, or two more tests, Jonathan.” You murmured quietly, kneeling down in front of him.

Your hands pressed flat on his thighs, rubbing him up and down, grazing your fingers lightly on his feverish skin. You had to regularly ground yourself, stop yourself from inching up to the poor, untouched tent in his boxer shorts.

Above you, you could hear Jonathan let out a low groan, “Ah, hnng— please,” he called out to no-one in particular.

“Does that - feel good, Jonathan?” You ask, getting back up on your feet. His desperate groans were getting to you now, how needy his little keens were.

“So - good,” he panted. “Your— you, I want— need, I need…” he trailed off, babbling, lost to the pleasure of your touch.

“Jonathan, if I… touched you more, would you do anything for me?” You said finally. The invention of the aphrodisiac was intended to sway someone's motivations, make them bend to your will. Sure, there was that added sexual aspect, but it was created with less… pleasurable intentions.

“Anything, anything at all,” he said deliriously, rolling his head around. “Jus’… just need you to- touch me.”

“Would you give yourself fear-toxin, Jonathan?”

“Yes! Yes, just — please… please! Stop asking me— questions… I need you so fucking bad, ah…”

“Jesus,” you said. Your aphrodisiac was stronger than you thought. You were satisfied, however, with the results of it. The first trial was a success, and you saw how you could use this on anyone - even people in particular positions of power, and get them to do your bidding. Quite helpful, indeed.

Now, you needed to… get Jonathan out of this state. By, ah, relieving him.

You had decided to do this, to test him, so you had to be responsible and help ease him out of this experiment. Quickly, you stripped your own clothing, even your underwear, before undoing the restraints on his arms and legs.

Jonathan’s eyes widened as he watched you undress. “Are you - are you… gonna t—touch me? Now? Please?” He practically begged, almost drooling at the sight of your naked body.

“Mhm,” you said, a tremble in your voice. “Gon’ help you get out of this.”

Then, you climbed onto Jonathan’s lap, shutting your eyes as you felt his hard cock within his boxer shorts slide between your legs deliciously.

He let out a guttural groan as your weight pressed down on him, feeling your wetness soak his shorts. That measly piece of fabric was all that was keeping him from entering your plush, velvet folds, and he was going practically insane at the feeling.

“M’god,” Jonathan whined out, leaning his sweaty head on your shoulder. “Y’feel so, a—ah, good…”

You couldn’t help the breezy laugh that made its way out of you. “I haven’t even touched you yet, Jonathan, and you’re already so worked up,” you whispered in his ear, hot breath fanning on his warm skin.

“P-pleeeease,” He begged, slowly grinding into you. Jonathan was barely coherent, mind just focussed on chasing the release he so desperately needed.

You raised a brow, but complied, slipping your warm hands down his boxer shorts and pulling his thick length out. You pumped him lazy, feeling how he writhed under you, tasteful whimpers slipping out of his mouth.

After another second of you stroking him lightly, your thumb grazing past the tip and collected a decent amount of precum, he actually did come, wet hot load spurting upwards on his chest and your face. “Ah - hnngh, oh my — oh my god,” he drooled, jutting into your hand.

It dripped down from your cheek onto your lips, and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the pleasure. You swiped a handful of his cream off your face, before covering his still hard, curved cock with it.

“You’re not done, aren’t you?” You said to him quietly, his hips stuttering as you artfully smeared his come on himself. Jonathan was arching into your touch, completely putty in your hands.

“Nuh- no, m’still— still need you, need you so bad.” he whimpered shamefully, hands stuck to your waist.

“Look at you go,” you found yourself cooing, dragging a creamy hand down his equally as creamy chest, your fingernails grazing him. “Let me take care of you.”

Then, you lifted yourself up off his lap, and carefully situated your slit on the tip of his head. “Christ,” you called out as you slid down, “you’re fucking big,”

Inch by inch, you took him, and Jonathan’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head, a string of senseless groans and whines leaving his mouth. “Feels so warm, so so warm,” he choked out at last, looking at you adoringly.

You started to lift out of him, your cunt stinging slightly at the sheer size of his cock, when you felt a heated liquid shoot through you, Jonathan’s knees buckling under your ass.

He’d come, again, even before you could get started. You shook your head incredulously at the terribly horny man beneath you, eyes glazed over in the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“Stop, fucking — coming,” you scolded, bottoming his cock into you once more, “you’re gonna get me so — ah— fucking - pregnant if you keep coming.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan said sheepishly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Can’t help it— you feel so — hnngh — feel so good.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, then focussed on getting a good pace of sliding in and out, your hips rolling deeper and deeper into his own. You were bouncing quickly on his cock, dick-riding him like you’d never done before.

With all other sexual partners you had, they wanted to be all vanilla, always just missionary, going slow until they were close, no sense of creativity or any other wishes that just feeling you. With Jonathan - especially in the state he was in now - you could do whatever you wanted, as long as his cock was in your cunt.

“Good — god,” you screamed out, when Jonathan suddenly gained control over himself and snapped into you, rough hands pinching the flesh of your hips. He rutted into you, hard and fast, for a moment like that continually, before his control melted once more into nothingness, and all he could do was let you take the reins.

“Please— how’re you so — ah, how does your pussy feel so good…” he murmured, trailing off into a high-pitched moan when you pulled out, then just as fast sunk down on him.

Jonathan’s fingers trailed up your body, rubbing at your soft flesh, before they found your breasts, kneading you tenderly. He chanced several licks on both your erect nipples, and you shuddered, tightening around him. Your cunt was sucking him in, devouring his length no matter how big he was, and he could feel how his length was stretching your walls wide open.

“So fucking big.” You panted, arms wrapping around his neck, “fat fucking cock all needy, just me.”

“Jus’… just for you! All - ah, all for you,” Jonathan repeated with a squeak, lips bitten delicately between his teeth.

Your hands trailed all over his body, and as the pleasure was getting to you, making your head dizzy and your thoughts foggy, you bounced down on him and your nails scratched up his back, surely leaving small wounds.

This miniscule amount of pain seemed to amplify Jonathan’s endless pleasure, and you could feel him pumping you full of his come once again, the tip of his dick pressed flush against your cervix. His come made you feel so full, fuller than you already did with his monstrous cock nestled into you, continually rubbing up on the toe-curlingly spongy spot in your cunt every time you pushed him back in.

“Mmf,” Jonathan groaned, pleasure muffling whatever he was was going to say, “m’gonna… gonna get you pregnant,”

“Yeah?” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut, “Is that what this needy cock wants? To get my wet cunt full and me pregnant?”

“Yes, yes, hnngh, please, wanna come - wanna come more,” Jonathan cried out.

“‘kay, okay,” you nodded vehemently, “then make this pussy feel good.”

Then, you slid out with a whimper, two loads worth of come spilling out of your worn-out cunt, turning around so your ass would face him, before you sunk back down on him. You were chasing your own pleasure now, the unmistakable feeling rumbling within your lower stomach.

Jonathan was completely fucked out, just a shaking, hot and bothered mess on the sticky wooden chair you’d both occupied, but he still welcomed your warm pussy back on him with open arms. Your folds beat any other cunt he’d ever been in, and he knew nothing, not even his own hand, could match up to how addicting you were, how delectably you took him.

The new angle had you reeling, your hands gripping Jonathan’s thighs for some much-needed support. You were buckling, getting weaker with every bounce, but were still desperate for release. It affected Jonathan too, and he was pressing his face up against your hair, biting down lightly on your shoulder to collect himself despite the earth-shattering pleasure you were inflicting on him.

Your fleshy cunt met his rock-solid cock every moment perfectly, and soon enough your back was arching, head leaning back on Jonathan’s shoulder. That knot in your stomach was tightening, a fire burning within you and begging you not to stop.

Jonathan’s needy hands were coursing all over your body, rubbing on you in all the right places, and when his calloused fingers began pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples, you saw white. That burning feeling dragged across your entire body, your jaw tensing, and you felt positively fuzzy, pure pleasure destroying all coherent thoughts you’d been having, your mind now focussed on the insane way he made you orgasm.

There was nothing that could compare to how you felt now, this being the hardest you’d orgasmed in your entire life. There was just something about Jonathan — be it how unbelievably big he was, or perhaps the odd tension that surrounded you two for the past few years — that made this experience ten times, no, a hundred times, better.

It was like his dick had been artfully crafted to stretch you out and stuff you full; that thick cock, made just for you.

In place of your weakening strength, Jonathan kept his hand tweaking your breast, and his other hand gripped your hip tightly, helping you bounce up and down on his cock. Thus, the pleasure was maximized by his touch, and you rode out your high like that for a few more long moments.

You stayed there, on his lap panting and drooling, for a few more seconds, before you climbed off of him, grimacing at the loss of his sweet cock in you.

You stood shakily, feeling his come ooze out of your sticky hole, and you were surprised to see that Jonathan was still hard. He was panting, head leaning against the chair, hands and legs trembling, but his dick could probably still pump out another round of come.

You did always wondering how he’d taste, and after seeing how long and thick he was, you wanted to know if his dick could make you cry, too. So, you kneeled down on the cold floor, pulling him by the ankles a little further off the chair, so you could get better access to him, and buried your pretty little head between his shaking thighs.

“What’re you— doing?” Jonathan said blearily, but before he could continue, your soft lips wrapped around him, and your tongue began artfully swiveling his sensitive head.

The loudest moan you’d heard so far was drawn out of Jonathan, and more, similar noises came out of him. It was nonsensical, and unintelligible, but you could tell he was having the time of his life — as if he hadn’t just orgasmed three times prior.

You started slowly, mouth taking his cock until you felt like you couldn’t anymore, before forcing past that point and making yourself take him to the back of your throat. Tears lined the rims of your eyes, your head swimming from lack of oxygen, but you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to hear him whimper and whine out from how good you were servicing him, his pretty groans reaching your ears like music.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth when you felt like you were going to pass out, and then you began lapping up at his cock, sucking and curving your tongue around his long length. You sucked him hard and fast, and then, his hands grappled at your hair.

At this point, you believed the aphrodisiac was wearing off, and Jonathan, now a little more clearheaded, began face fucking you, filling your sweet mouth full with his filthy cock. He couldn’t resist doing so, especially with you looking up at him through your tear-stained lashes, hollowing out your cheeks and gripping his thighs like your life depended on it.

You gagged on him, several times, but he didn’t care, and with a jolted thrust past your swollen lips, he came, squirting all he had left down your throat. You sucked and swallowed every drop of him into your mouth, loving the taste of his salty liquid.

Now, you were both fucked out, beyond tired, the strain on your muscles settling in. Your core had been properly exercised, what with how many times you rutted into Jonathan, and he, similarly, had a strained back with how much he arched into your touch, his aphrodisiac-clouded mind wanting nothing more but to be touched by you.

“Good god, woman,” Jonathan said, collapsing into the wooden chair, which was sticky with sweat, come and your cunt’s soaking wetness. “You could’ve just said you wanted to fuck,”

You panted, dropping down onto the cold floor beneath you and wincing. “We’re — we were, just friends.”

He waved away your words, “We live together, darling. Not quite sure if that's “just” friends.”

You looked up at him, before laughing agreeably. “Felt good though, didn’t it?” A smug grin made its way on your lips, remembering how submissive Jonathan had been, how desperate he’d been just for the slightest bit of touch.

“Amazing,” he said exasperatedly. “But next time, you’re not topping.”

“Next time, huh?” You said brightly, shakily getting up. Jonathan helped you, both of you limping exhaustedly up the stairs to your actual house, where you really should’ve been fucking, instead of the clinical environment of your large basement lab.

Jonathan’s hands found your ass, pulling you flush against him and kneading the flesh roughly. “Why not? Don’t you wanna know how I fuck?” he whispered suggestively into your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“I think, you’ve still got some aphrodisiac in you, Jon.” you said, laughing breezily.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #batman #sub!jonathan crane #sub!jonathan crane x reader

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tedwardremus · 29 days ago

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jily........jawline kiss🤭

“Didn’t know baking came with this much mess—or swearing.”

“Please, James,” Lily huffed, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. “This is not the time to try and be clever.”

James smiled and pushed off the doorway, coming to stand beside her at the cluttered counter covered in half-mixed batter, a pile of cracked eggshells, and what might’ve been flour—or possibly sugar—coating the floor.

“How can I help?”

“I just don’t understand,” Lily muttered, flinging down her wand in frustration. “Seven years of magical education and not a single class on household charms or cooking. I mean—your mum’s notes say to use a Calefactum charm to keep the oven at a constant baking temperature, but how do I know what temperature it’s set to? Am I supposed to add a number? Do I say Calefactum 180 or something?”

“No idea,” James admitted cheerfully. “Mum never taught me to cook. Can’t you just bake it the Muggle way?”

“I could,” Lily said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “but I want to learn your mum’s recipe. And I have no idea what Whippio does. It sounds like it should whisk the eggs, but does it only work on eggs?”

“Don’t know,” James said, rummaging in the cupboard for one of the old cookbooks. “Maybe Mum’s recipes are too advanced for beginners. Let’s see if she’s got a Magical Baking for Dummies hidden in here.”

Lily sighed, defeated. “No use. Sirius and your friends will be here soon, and if I keep trying, we won’t have any pudding at all. I’ll just pop down to the shop and buy a cake.”

Before she could turn away, James wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was warm and Lily felt some of her stress melt.

“I promise,” he said softly, “we’ll teach ourselves household charms and be proper adults before the baby comes.”

She let out a tired laugh against his chest. “The baby will be here in a couple of months.”

“It’s March. The baby won’t be here until August,” James said, grinning into her hair. “That gives us plenty of time to learn how to bake a cake for their first birthday party next year.”

Lily’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “I just wanted you to have your mum’s cake for your birthday,” she murmured.

James kissed the top of her head. “I appreciate that, love. Truly. But it’s not necessary. You’re more than enough.”

She smiled, tilting her face up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Happy birthday, James.”

#harry potter fanfiction #james potter #lily potter #jily #jily fanfiction

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shrine-of-the-theoi · 3 months ago

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Hi! I'm a beginner to Hellenic Polytheism. I tried to find basics and stuff, but I never talked to Hellenic polytheists.

I wanted to ask about the basics and especially your relationship with fandoms made from greek mythology — Percy Jackson and other. I saw some hate people in those fandoms, and that makes me really unsure of how to worship and also be a part of this religion.

Helloo pal!!

Remember a respectful relationship with the Theoi (Gods). GODS AREN'T THEIR MYTHS. To learn about the Theoi, you can check out theoi.com which is excellent. Also books like Hesiod's Theogeny, Illiad and Homeric hymns. But remember...AVOID OVID AT ALL COSTS PLEASE. Because He's a Roman poet and his poetry was influential during the Renaissance, which included mythification of the Gods. The result of which is fandoms like Percy Jackson. These myths are what makes up "the Greek Mythology". But these myths aren't the gods. To know the Gods, we must clear our mind from these myths first- some of which describes certain Gods and goddesses as "evil".

Start learning about the the history of the Gods. Their are different classes of Gods like Titans, Primordial and Olympians. Check this out in theoi.com Research the offerings you can make. Remember the Gods won't be angry at you unless ofc you do smtg gravely heinous or disrespect any of them. Also numerous offerings are not at all necessary. Just a fresh glass of water everyday is enough if you have problem making regular offerings. You can include candles and incense and that's it the Theoi are content. Advisable to clean and tidy before starting worship- doesn't mean you'll have to take a bath everytime before praying. Just washing your hands is enough. You can offer certain objects to the Gods to enchant them. Like i plan to gave a clawclip to Hera and request her to bless it.

You might stumble across phrases as "working with". Don't worry. If you work or don't work with a certain deity, doesn't mean you're any less. Simple devotion and even that is cherished by the gods. Working with a theoi simply means having assistance of a certain Gods or Goddess to achieve smtg personal. Worshipping...is just fine.

Next, you can use a necklace as a pendulum if tarot and oracle cards isn't an option in receiving guidance or answers from the Theoi. Start recording your research work in journals. Write some poems and prayer. Doesn't have to be flowery. Simple appreciation of the Theoi, their praises, or a request for their guidance can be prayers as well. Good at art? Offer your drawings.

Lastly if you have trouble setting physical shrines or kharis, worry not. Set up digital shrines. For that you can use the "collage" feature of pinterest or draw one in digital art apps. Physical offerings are a trouble? Make digital ones where there's no limitation. Pictures of offerings like fruits, beverages, baked goods and all, animal correspondences, EVERYTHING. You can make a digital shrine blog like this one or create boards on Pinterest for the Theoi and save pictures that you feel like. Acts of services are as much an offering as food. Engage in books for Athena, create something in honour of Hephaestus, learn about herbs and their uses for Apollo, appreciate art for Dionysus, help elders in the name of Hera and Zeus cuz they are the protectors. Take care of yourself for Aphrodite, laugh for Hermes, condemn wrong to the society in the name of Ares. And that's just enough devotion as someone who makes physical offerings. Honour the Theoi in the daily life.

Keep learning, cuz there's no stop to that and always be respectful for its the most important aspect of any religion. Comparing who's stronger, who's good bad...nope!! That's what the ones who read "mythology" do. We? We are not mythology students but devotees. And for us, The THEOI are way more glorious than their itsy bitsy myths. The Theoi aren't their myths and this is an ancient religion and not just mythology.

Hope this helps!! Let me and others here on Tumblr know whenever you need help. You're always welcome. Check out @khaire-traveler , @dionysianivy , @olympianbutch , @wingedfoolnearthesun , @athenaeum-of-the-herald , @atheniangrace , @theoi-of-olympus . Their blogs can be a major help for you as you start off. Khaire 🧿🥀!!!

#hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenism #hellenic polythiest #asks answered #ask #ask me stuff #glad you asked #hellenic community #hellenic devotion #thanks for the ask!

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hyunnielix · 7 months ago

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read your mind. | h.h

Series Masterlist

'Decompressing, tryna ease the tension. But you got me stressing'

— hyunjin x (f) reader

— word count: 1.6k

— genre: non-idol au, artist!hyunjin, second chance romance (I know who would've thought. eventual smut (not in this chapter sorry).

— warning's: bestie!felix (and minho), jisung mention/cameo, angst! fluff. Felix being a cutie pie as usual. Baking! sort of...

→ playlist on spotify

The walk to the baking class was brisk. You pulled your coat tight against the cool air and approached the storefront with its polished gold-lettered sign reading 'Tiff's Bakery Masterclass'.

You paused, your lips quirking into a faint smirk at the name. It was a little pretentious, wasn’t it? The building itself felt charming enough, with its warm brick façade and a row of flower boxes spilling violets and rose blossoms over the ledge. A chalkboard easel sat by the door boasting, "Perfect Your Pastry Skills Today!" in a looping cursive font, complete with a few flourishes you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at. You could only hope Felix understood exactly what he’d gotten you both into.

You pressed your palms against the opaque glass door, pushing it open. A soft chime rung out as the smell of warm sugar and cinnamon wafted through the establishment. The interior felt cozy but modern, with rows of gleaming countertops and shiny stainless steel appliances reflecting the glow of vintage-style bulbs hanging from the ceiling. For all its pretension, the room was inviting—enough to almost make you forget how silly you felt walking into a class with total strangers.

Felix's aura radiated like sunshine through stormy clouds, his energy demanded attention with golden hair and freckles dusted like sprinkles on a cupcake. His deep laugh echoed through the room and you tilted your head. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, unbidden and slow. You were supposed to be annoyed with him damn it! Yet every time you saw him you melted, like seeing a kitten playing with yarn for the first time. Too damn adorable.

You approached his table. He sat next to another boy, one with brown Boba eyes and shortish onyx hair. Your eyes travelled to the boy's tank top, drawn to the tattoo peaking out which read— 'blessed'.

"Y/N, you made it on time!" Felix wriggled in his chair, blonde hair slightly tousled and dressed in a white apron. He embodied the confidence of someone who’d done this before.

"Lix," you sighed, shaking your head as you pulled out one of the tall stools. The scrape of its metal legs echoed in the tiled room. "I thought this was a beginners’ class."

He grinned, the kind that tugged at the corner of his lips and added a spark to his pretty eyes. "It is!"

The door opened, the chime reverberating once more as it revealed a tall figure. She entered the room with flour-dusted hands and a smile which softened the stern lines of her face. Her voice carried over the hum of excited chatter, authoritative yet calm. "Welcome everyone, to the beginners masterclass. Contradictory, I know," She began and picked up a wooden spatula that sat on the desk before her. "Familiarise yourselves with your stations. Everything you'll need is here." She pointed toward the tools.

You took a moment to glaze your eyes over the bench before you. A gleaming metal mixing bowl sat beside a whisk. While an array of sharp knives glinted under the kitchen lights, rolling pins positioned beside folded aprons.

“Ingredients are premeasured and labeled to avoid confusion,” she added, nodding toward the small, clear containers of sugar, flour, and butter at each station. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing to offer a reassuring smile to a student gripping their whisk like a lifeline. “Don’t be afraid to make mistakes!” she proclaimed, “Baking is equal parts strategy and art, today, you’re all artists.”

Your lips twitched into a bitter smile. Artists. Sure, let’s call them that.

"Today we will be making an assortment of puff pastries."

You hated baking. The delicate techniques required a patience you didn’t possess, and your heavy-handed attempts only made things worse. The instructors hands moved with a precision one could only acquire through relentless practice, slicing the butter into thin sheets and layering them over the dough. You leaned closer, brows furrowed and attempted to mimic the fluid motion, your fingers awkwardly pressing the butter too deep into the dough.

The instructor began to move around the room. You felt the looming presence over your shoulder and sighed.

"Gentle precision," The instructor corrected, and guided your hand.

The scent of flour and yeast mingled in the air while rolling pins clattered against the metal tables. The dough stretched, folded and thinned. You abandoned using your hands and reached for the rolling pin, hoping your determination could make up for your lack of finesse.

The instructor’s words rang hollow in your ears as you tried, and failed, to fold the dough without tearing it. Every mistake seemed magnified under the scrutinizing gleam of the overhead lights. It wasn’t just the technique—it was the vulnerability of it, the need to be careful, precise and tender. You didn’t know how to be gentle anymore.

"Oh for fuck's sake," You muttered under your breath as the dough resisted the smooth glide of your pin. The quip earnt a soft chuckle from the instructor and she moved on around the room toward other students.

You sat up, taking in the other students and how they worked with varying degrees of success, their voices mixed together, airing questions and nervous laughter. One, which included Felix.

Your mouth fell open at the sight of his dough. The sheen of butter glistened on the surface, whispering a promise of a golden flaky crust.

Felix halted his motions, setting his rolling pin on the bench. "You seem a little spaced out. You okay?" He tilted his head ever so slightly.

You sighed and slouched, staring mindlessly at the dough. "Would you believe it if I told you I just bumped into Hyunjin at my favourite coffee spot?"

Felix's eyes widened and his lips parted, caught somewhere between disbelief and alarm. “He’s back?” he breathed, his voice low but taut.

"Yeah." You poked your finger in the dough and cringed at the consistency. No way you were saving that...

"For how long?"

"I didn’t ask. I wasn’t really thinking." You reached for your rolling pin, letting it twirl absently between your fingers, the rhythm grounding you.

"Are you alright?" he pressed gently, his voice steady but laced with worry.

"I—I’m not sure," you admitted, the words tumbling out like they’d been waiting at the edge of your tongue.

"I just hope Minho doesn't get any ideas."

The offhand comment made you pause, a flicker of confusion flashing across your face as your brows knitted together. Minho. Your roommate.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice cautious, leaning into the kind of question which already carried an answer you might regret hearing.

Felix shifted, his lips twitching with hesitation before he let out a soft, dry laugh. “He literally threw a plate at Hyunjin's head.”

Your stomach dropped, envisioning the scenario. "He did what?"

"I forgot I wasn't supposed to tell you that." Realisation washed over Felix's features.

"When did that happen?"

"Before he left. A few years back."

"He told you two before he told me didn't he? I remember that."

The memory of that night hit you with a wave of heaviness. You had returned to the apartment, the door clicking shut behind you, but the reality inside felt more chilling than the cold air. Minho broke the news, his voice low, but the words still sharp, cutting through you. The silence that followed was suffocating, each second stretching out, thick with the weight of unspoken grief. Then, Minho had pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up as if he could protect you from the world and all its terrors.

"Yeah, Minho made me promise not to tell you how he lost his shit over it," Felix whispered. He shook his head, as if the memory still surprised him.

"He doesn't need to protect me. I can handle Hwang Hyunjin."

"I know you can. I just think Minho doesn't want you to do it alone. Y'know?"

You pursed your lips and the sentiment made your chest ache. How blessed you were to know these boys.

The boy from earlier leaned over Felix's shoulder, his arm casually draping across it as he grinned wide, his expression full of mischief. "I can't help but overhearing, this Hwang guy seems like an asshole."

Your brow rose and Felix shrugged.

"Jisung." He reached out his hand. "You'll be coming to more classes right? you two seem cool."

Felix gazed at you with wide, pleading eyes, his lashes fluttering. He tilted his head just enough to make his expression unbearably cute.

You let out a resigned sigh. "I'll think about it."

"That's not a no! it's not a no!" Felix celebrated, his hands raised in triumph before turning to Jisung. Without missing a beat, they both exchanged a quick, energetic dap, the sound of their hands slapping together echoing in the air. The camaraderie between them both made the atmosphere feel lighter and you couldn't help but grin.

A vibration in your pocket drew your attention. You pulled the phone out, trying not to dust it with flour remnants.

Hyune: Le Lux Charm, booked for seven thirty tomorrow night? :)

Y/N: You're lucky my schedule is free.

Hyune: I'll see you there.

You expelled a breath you didn't realise you were holding, placing the phone face down on the messy bench. "I'm catching up with him tomorrow night apparently."

Felix leant forward and reached for your dough covered hands. "If you need anyone to save you. Me and Minho will be there."

Jisung piped up. "Me too. for y'know emotional support." He gestured to his head with his pointer finger then winked at you.

"I just met you."

"And? who could resist this cute face!" Jisung slapped a hand on his chest with a dramatic flourish.

Felix's giggle sounded and you couldn't help but follow in tow at the absurdity of it all. Maybe the baking classes weren't a bad idea after all.

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sinnabarmoth · 5 months ago

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Idk if you’ve done this already, but what do you think the LIs’ “type” would be, focusing on personality? Ik they’re in love with MC, but I’d like to give hope to those who don’t relate to MC (including me T^T)

Zayne: For Zayne I get the vibe that he would love a soft extrovert. Someone who enjoys going out and trying new things and can pull him out of his shell but is very chill about it. They are a very optimistic person and are bubbly but in a laid back kind of way. Ideal dates are trying out new restaurants or signing up for a one night beginners tango class but also like taking walks through the park. I also think someone with a lot of patience and organizational skills would just be a big plus for him too. He not only wants but needs someone like that in his life because he will only work and go home otherwise.

Xavier: Xavier for sure likes the cozy gamer girl introvert! Despite his job what he really seems to like is just staying at home and having a peaceful time in. She's in his hoodie 24/7, is on year 5 of a Stardew Valley farm, snacks on the desk, the whole shebang. They are the cuddle couple. They will be sat in the living room playing a co-op game and she is in his lap while they are playing and tries to distract him by suddenly kissing him and stuff. She's baking cookies partly for snacks and partly to make the house smell incredible. When they do go out it's usually to an old reliable favorite restaurant or playing at the arcade. I think someone who can just be this well of soft mundane pleasures to come home to after a long day is what he would love!

Rafayel: Rafayel is the kind of guy where his partner needs to be able to match his freak. Whatever energy he is coming at them with his partner has not only gotta be able to receive but also deal it back at 200%. Someone who isn't afraid to tease and be sarcastic and a little dramatic. Raf is the kind of guy who will play fight with you whenever just cause he's bored. You'll be at an art gallery and he'll be looking for an excuse to cut out early and gives you a look and you both just silently agree to start having a stupid verbal fight right then and there. He's trying not to laugh the entire time and it always ends with one of you chasing after the other like "No baby! Don't go! I'll change I swear!" Someone who will drag him out of his house and force him to be social but also loves being able to cancel plans to stay inside when they are straight up not feeling the crowd vibe. Someone not so serious and with a good sense of humor is a huge win in his book!

Sylus: Sylus is looking for someone adaptable and able to roll with the punches. Oh we have to go to a different restaurant for dinner super last minute? Sure, not a problem. Someone who is independent and has a sharp tongue that isn't afraid to call him out on stuff. I really just see him with someone who is like "this is my guard dog Sylus, I can tell him stand down but 9 times out of 10 I will let him kill you. He needs the enrichment." He likes someone who likes new experiences and doesn't mind being the center of attention because you know he is going to be dragging them along everywhere he goes. He loves to be able to flaunt his partner and while being shy can be cute there's something so damn attractive about a partner who knows they are hot stuff.

#love and deepspace #lads headcanons #lads sylus #lads rafayel #lads xavier #lads zayne #answered asks

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ghostwritermia · 1 year ago

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Ok here’s a no pressure oneshot request if it inspires you:

Your class is allowed to pick their own partners for a paired project and James Potter *insists* he’s yours and you argue with him a bit because you don’t trust him to take it seriously.

But then you end up partnering with him and he ends up making it fun and he actually knows what he’s doing!

Pairing ~ James Potter x hufflepuff!reader, platonic!remus x hufflepuff!reader

Word Count ~ 1, 032

Summary ~ You're not the biggest fan of the idea, but you get a new partner in Herbology, your favorite class

Warnings ~ Beginner writing skills, fluff, unedited because I'm lazy...banter?

Note From Mia ~ I hope you enjoy, but I'm not very confident in my writing yet, so, we'll see where this goes, I guess, I also wasn't 100% sure how to end it, so I hope it was okay. ALSO, THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, I LOVE YOU! <3

Herbology has always been your favorite class. And however stereotypical it sounds, it just was. You grew up in a household where your father had been a Ravenclaw and your mother, a Hufflepuff. That being said, you grew up with your nose stuck in a book, playing games of wizarding chess with your father, and gardening and baking sweets with your mum.

Naturally, out of all the classes, you were drawn to Herbology. It was one of the subjects that just clicked into place. And it didn’t seem to hurt that Professor Sprout had always been fond of you, and you of her.

You enjoyed the smell of the various plants and soil, and the sun and warmth emitting in the Greenhouses. Everything to do with it was simply second nature to you, having helped your mum open up her own floral shop.

You were currently on your way to the Greenhouses for Herbology when Remus caught up to you. Remus and you had bonded in your Third Year when he had asked for assistance in the very class you both were on your way to.

The two of you had always had a quiet, relaxed bond. You were comfortable sitting in silence, but liked to lean on each other when it was needed. You also made him homemade chocolate every full moon, so that was a plus for him.

Remus had always tried to introduce you to James and Sirius, but even though a Hufflepuff, you tended to be more introverted. That trait came from your father. You liked to stick to your inner circle of friends: Remus, Regulus, and Pandora.

“Rem, what am I going to do?” You broke the silence, seeing the Greenhouses appear in the horizon.

“About what?” He asks, tilting his head, looking down at you.

You sigh before responding, “I don’t have a partner this year.” You look down. “Ember, decided that she would ditch me and find a group of Ravenclaws to be her friends, instead. But did she really not realize that I’m just as smart as them? I was raised by a Ravenclaw!”

At the end of last year, your friend of three years had decided that she wanted to branch out and make new friends; which you completely supported, well, until she decided to leave you completely.

Remus came to a halt and grabbed your shoulders, stopping you and turning you to face him. “You don’t need her. She clearly wasn’t a good friend and you are better off without her.” He drops his hands from your shoulders before continuing. “Plus, I know the perfect person to be your partner,” The fawn-haired boy smirks before striding away, leaving you to catch up.

“Remus,” You grumble, sprinting to catch up to his long strides. When you're finally back to his side, he glances at you, smirking.

“Your hair is messed up now.”

You simply ignore him, flipping him off before walking into the Greenhouse, shutting the door in his face. You hear him laugh and roll your eyes before heading over to your workbench.

Professor Sprout makes her presence known by telling everyone to pull out their textbooks, and to find a partner.

You ignore the latter and grab your book from the bottom shelf of your bench, wanting to leave worrying about the partner situation until last. However, someone seems to have other plans because when you look up it seems that you already have a partner. Or at least someone thinks so. You disagree completely; and you show that perfectly with the glare you send Remus’s way.

You sigh, “What do you want, James?”

“Why to be your partner of course.” He quips, not leaving room for much discussion.

However, you have different plans. “Yeah, sorry, but not happening.”

“Why?”

“James. I like this class. I take it seriously. Do you?” You question, while flipping open your textbook to the chapter that introduces everything that needs to be known about the Deadly Nightshade: Belladonna, which everyone was instructed to do so by Sprout.

“I take all my classes seriously.” He answers, pushing his glasses up from where they had slipped. You give him an unsure glance, but don’t argue any further.

“An easy week, this time around, students,” Sprout starts. “You’ll simply be reading and taking notes on Belladonna. If you haven’t already flipped your books open to page eighty-four.” She waves her hand in dismissal for students to start.

“Would you like to take notes, or read the text?” James asks politely.

“I really don’t mind either,” You answer politely. A trait from your mother? Indecisiveness and people pleasing. The latter being a trait you were unaware of James sharing with you.

“How about I read a page and you take notes on it, and then we switch?” He compromises.

“Sounds like a plan,” You smile, pulling out a parchment and quill.

James reads the first page out loud easily, while you scribble out information that sounds both important and then intriguing.

After that you switch, and that continues until the last page of the chapter where it landed with you reading. You slowed down to make sure you weren’t going too fast and glanced over to James who was writing neatly and at a speed of which you didn’t know how he managed.

His glasses slipped down his nose in the process and you giggled, causing him to snap his head up. “What?” He asks obliviously.

“Nothing,” You assure, fixing his glasses for him before he even realizes it happened himself.

A blush spreads across his face and he looks back down at the parchment, continuing writing, mumbling, “I was wondering why the words were getting blurry.”

You laugh before continuing reading.

Across the class Remus has a smug smile and Sirius notices his pause in reading and looks up curiously. “Moony. You stopped reading.”

Remus looked down, then to Sirius. “Oh I know, but I also just played matchmaker.” He responded smugly, subtly pointing to the pair directly across from them.

Sirius looked over to see his best friend with a blush across his cheeks and you, laughing in between your words, your head resting on James’s shoulder.

@ellecdc

#james potter #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #the marauders x reader #the marauders #platonic!remus x reader

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theanticool · 1 year ago

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Libraries and Adult Lonliness

As we all know, making friends as adults is hard. And while the internet has made it easier to make friends with people around the world, actually meeting people you can meet with on a regular basis and just hang out with us tough. The common answer to meeting new people is to find people who are interested in the same stuff as you. As such, finding places to meet new people who may have similar interests to you is important. And that’s why I think the library is a great resource!

As a children’s librarian, one of the things I try to point out to parents when they come in to sign their kids up for the library is that we offer adult programs too. Obviously we have book clubs - my library has 4 different book clubs for people who read different types of books. I’ve posted about it before with knitting/crochet circles. But for people who have or want to explore different interests, and meet new people via that new interest, you may want to check your local library to see their programming. For example:

Hiking: Many libraries offer things like hiking kits. These can be things such as maps for local trails, hiking sticks, a water resistant backpack, binoculars, bird guides, and the like. But some libraries having hiking clubs, such as the Poughkeepsie Public Library Distruct in NY.

Language Learning: Many libraries have access to language learning platforms such as Rosetta Stone or Mango Languages. But many other have dedicated classes where adults can come and learn languages. If you’re in L.A. county, the public library offers classes in beginner Russian, Chinese, Korean, Italian, Armenian, etc!

Music: there are many libraries that have maker spaces where you can go and record music. There’s one in the Newark Library and at a branch of the Brooklyn library. There are also ones that allow you to check out instruments. But there are also ones where you can receive free music lessons, such as the Dallas Public Library (this program was online during the pandemic but is now also offered in person!)

youtube

I could keep going.

Singing, dancing, theater, yoga, sketch comedy, creative writing, RC Cars, foraging, cemetery tour groups, jewelry making, baking, woodworking, painting, etc. If you have a niche interest or would like to get into a niche interest, there is a chance your library has had or will have a program about it. And if you’re looking to meet new people, it is a great place to start.

#public libraries #libraries #library propaganda #Youtube

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palladiangossip · 2 months ago

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haggis befstock, dorm supervisor and certified body rocker 28th april, 2025. title: lol check this out

kittens & lambchops,

thanks a lot for checking in when i was in the infirmary with MONO you SICK FUCKS!!! i let you keep your weird, non - service pets ( looking at the teacup pig being hosted in the lavender suites - you know who you are ), let the janitor know when you've clogged the pipes with your non - biodegradable toiletries ... i only snag one joint per room check as my lordly tax, and you can't even send a little get well soon message? balloons? what's a guy gotta do to get some fucking FLOWERS OVER HERE!

anyways. anyways. i'm not mad. i'm not bitter. my therapist and i already worked through this. i'm beautiful, i'm hung, i'm going to pass my midterms, the sexy medieval linocut theory TA is going to text me back. affirmations are important. make sure you're doing yours! some of you need them. bad.

anyways, again, because i'm not mad, and i'm not bitter, and i know none of you look at the campus fliers unless they feature pawprints and a sad, flared - nostriled baby - man ( did they ever find him btw? anyone have his number lmao? ) - i've taken the GREAT LIBERTY, the KINDNESS, etc. etc. to forward the local activities & events happening this week and going into may. they're all in bath & the cotswold, and some are even ON CAMPUS! wow! yippee! i've also looked deep into the depths of my slow - thawing heart and decided to let you guys in onto some of our, like ... less recognized events. functions, if you will. wink wink, nudge nudge. don't be fucking loud about it!

for our lea micheles, i've attached an additional, audio - only operatic rendition of the events already attached below. they don't call me the next lin manuel miranda for nothing.

hugs and kisses xx

hi lovebugs ! with the current & upcoming busyness of both our admins & members, i thought it'd be a good idea to host a few mini events while we wait for our beloveds' returns. these have no time frame, no start or end date ( yet ), and are fully optional ! these are just meant to serve as settings & potential plot points, fun activities to switch things up for your muses, etc. below the read - more will be everything featured this "month". enjoy and have fun !

BATH & PALLADIAN.

RABBITHOLE — battle of the bands. may 30th & 31st.

at the end of the month is rabbithole's annual, local, and highly anticipated battle of the bands, where musicians from all genres step forward to show off their very best. it isn't a career - changer by any means, but the prizes range from a hefty sum of cash, a night of free drinks, and - this is just a rumor - a bottle of real, genuine, authentic absinthe from rabbithole's secret cellar. the first band bracket will perform friday evening, and those who make it through will battle in the final saturday night.

CAFE MARTA — how to sour your dough. april 30th.

this upcoming wednesday is cafe marta's very first sourdough baking class! intended for beginners but bound to be overtaken by so - called experts wishing to peacock their talents, this is a simple class that'll start by teaching you how to feed your own sourdough starter, and end with you baking your very first bread! all doughs, ingredient additions, and baking tools will be provided by cafe marta.

BOOK STEW — comedy & tragedy night. may 16th.

in a sick attempt to overtake rabbithole's poetry night, book stew is featuring their own night of laughter and misery, of heartache and ear ... ache. fully intended to be a night of poetry, of dramatics, of earnest, heart - wrenching confessions of love ... naturally, amateur comics were bound to step forth and use the present crowd as their own test subjects. this is the happy medium - you will laugh, you will cry, sometimes you will do both - and you'll wish you took that other half of the edible.

THE AMPHITHEATRE — drunk ( musical ) theater. may 10th.

hark! the musical theater majors have taken over the amphitheatre! starting at a strong 5pm and lasting well into the night, is one - step above karaoke. students are welcomed down to the amphitheatre to demonstrate their musical prowess as the theater department leads several musicals ( and even a play or two! ) into absolute madness. buckets are supplied, liquid iv is passed around - and designated drivers are on - call.

ST. CUTHBERT AUDITORIUM — school - wide safe sex assembly. may 5th.

you naughty naughty lambs. open to all students, not just langston and not just palladian - but every student studying beneath st. cuthbert's roof are required to attend this school - wide assembly on safe sex and sti prevention. free ( as always! ) testing will be provided immediately after, and each student will receive a goodie bag featuring condoms, dental dams, and informational pamphlets.

THE COURTYARD — meteor shower viewing & party. may 20th.

every student is invited tuesday night to view a once - in - a - decade meteor shower in palladian's courtyard. every light on campus will be turned off for full visibility of the stars, and it's highly encouraged that students bring their own blankets, chairs, drinks, and snacks. please keep in mind it is a school night, and that professors, TAs, etc. will be invited alongside students as this is a highly anticipated event for our astronomy lovers.

PALLADIO & HOLLAND HALL — dormitory party & following consequences. may 3rd.

the prophecy is as follows: on friday night, four dorm parties spread between palladio and holland will turn floor, no, building - wide. the walls will shake with the vibrations of bass, the stench of liquor will drift beneath every door, an emergency meeting between professors will occur the following monday to discuss the party - culture that's overtaken campus - and the dormitories will flood. a great, trembling wave will burst from the pipes, old and outdated, and course down the corridors. for the next week, students will be camping out in the courtyards, solarium, the forum - castle fell itself.

THE COTSWOLDS & CASTLE FELL.

FRIDAY PRODUCE MARKETS & DAIRY SHOP — cow - takeover & impromptu petting zoo. may 23rd.

today, nature fights back. what starts out as a regular morning at the market becomes a cow - stampede as old man cabbersley's fence breaks down in the middle of night and wickham-on-heath is overtaken by livestock. mostly cows, and then sheep - and then goats, oh god, the goats ... of course, the townsfolk will call it a happy accident and sell their produce to passing students to feed to the animals.

THE LAMB AND THE FLAG — traffic - light party & speed dating. may 11th.

sunday evening, students are welcomed to the lamb and the flag to partake in a single's mingle night, split into two segments. one half of the pub will be dedicated to speed dating, a quick two - minute rotation of singles ( or perceived single ) as matchmaking cards are filled out. the other half will be dedicated to a less - intense stoplight party where bracelets will be passed around to indicate relationship status. green for single & looking, yellow for it's complicated or they're not quite opposed, and red for taken & disinterested.

DOGWOOD BLOSSOMS — stolen flower cart quest. april 30th.

it is a misty morning as you approach dogwood blossoms; the light is still on, a blurred thing in the fog. it is warm; and the scent of gardenias is near - overwhelming. there; the door opens - and out hobbles lillian hayes, a crunch of leaves beneath her cane and a fire in her eyes. those goddamn hooligans. those no - good kids. those damned students. someone has stolen lillian hayes' flower cart - and it's up to YOU to find it. students may assemble small teams to look high and low for the cart. the reward is a secret, not - to - be sold item from her shop.

FRANKLIN & BROWN ANTIQUES — weekend oddities pop - up. may 13th.

thanks to the oddities & curiosities expo happening in bristol, franklin & brown is happy to announce their very own pop - up for locals & students who are interested in the morbid and macabre. featuring wet specimen, taxidermy, and haunted items - especially dolls! - there is something for everyone, if everyone's a little bit ... weird.

WICKHAM-ON-HEATH PARK & BEACH — local regatta. may 25th.

featuring historically - accurate boats from the regency era comes wickham-on-heath's annual regatta. everyone is invited to partake in the event; a competitive rowing competition that will span the length of local lake. there will be finger foods and tea provided, as well as encouragement to bring your best picnic blankets & baskets. after the competition, swan boat rides will be provided as the sun sets.

THE RUINS — secret "beltane" celebration & bonfire. may 1st.

you receive the invite beneath your door in the middle of the night; a coffee - stained parchment meant to resemble something old and ancient. it smells of dirt and fire; it promises music and dance, drinks and merriment. when you arrive - it's just that. an imitation of beltane, on a much smaller scale; a great bonfire roars in the middle of the ruins, with tinier fires on the outskirts. shrooms are encased in palm at entrance. the students are barely clothed, stripped down to their underwear as they run and dance and drink and laugh.

CASTLE FELL — castle takeover. may 26th.

how dare langston students encroach on their territory? on their college - on their classes, their common rooms? enough is enough. today, palladians storm castle fell. today - castle fell ... will fall. students from the arts college come in waves towards the langston dormitories, with balloons of water and paint, with honey and feather, with eggs and ladybugs by the thousands. may 26th parks the beginning of the prank war between langston & palladian.

#langston.event #just tagging as such for easy searching :3 #posting here as it's unofficial and will be easier to find as well i think #teehee!

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fanarchoslashivist · 5 months ago

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The egg timer beeped.

“Breaks over,” Aster smiled against Jack's mouth, nibbling on the little aggrieved sound that escaped as Jack processed the sound.

“Stay,” Jack whined, trying to cling as Aster raised his head, but while they were similar in height heel to the ground Jack was all leg and Aster was mostly torso, pinned as he was Jack couldn't quite chase after if Bunny arched his neck out of reach.

“I got chores Jack.”

“You didn't even eat.”

“That's debatable.” He admired the ruffled mess he had made of the sprite under him in satisfaction and grinned when Jack realized the full weight of his gaze.

He would be more than happy to continue, bring them both to a more satisfying conclusion, but Spring waits for no one, even a particularly pouty frost spirit, and Easter was right around the corner.

“I have work to do, Frost.” He pressed his nose against Jack's temple, lips against his ear, and breathed deep and loud. “and this isn't a thing I will rush.”

“You always rush everywhere.” Jack complained.

“Speed comes with skill,” Bunny promised, “you need to start slowly,” he draw a claw up under Jack's shirt, the soft skin giving under the pressure like the spongy layer of moss on a boulder, “you need to be precise, and careful when you're starting something new.”

Jack leaned into it where he expected him to arch away, hand leaving the thick fur of his neck to grip at the fingers under his clothes, interlock them together and hold them in place. Aster imagined his palm was hot enough to burn given how cold Jack ran, the frost that glittered like embroidery on his hem long since melted from Bunny's touch.

Still Jack held him there like he could brand his handprint to his ribs.

“So,” Jack breathed his words more than he spoke them, pulling in air with great care not to pant, “we should start practicing right?”

Impatient little bastard.

“After Easter,” Bunny took their laced fingers and pulled them away from Jack's skin, up to his mouth where he could kiss each of Jack's knuckles. “I have a LOT of work ahead of me.” He scraped the barest edge of his teeth across Jack's wrist and listened to Jack's breathing get rougher, like this small contact was in any way laborious.

There were steps you couldn't skip when first making chocolate.

Tempering was one of them.

He had indulged in Jack's novice attempts at seduction the way one indulged novice attempts in a beginners baking class.

But now that Jack had decided to take things a bit more seriously he was going to be stricter about the process.

Jack had put his hands on the fruit of his tree, if he wanted to taste the results of his harvest we would need to stick it out through the whole of the process.

Beginning with the laborious task of fermentation.

“After Easter” he promised again, knowing it was weeks away.

#calefaction #my fic #jackrabbit #should i add the ust tag to this fic?#no because there will be smut #i just really like Bunny being a fucking tease #the ball is once again in Jack's court

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merajsblog · 2 years ago

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rin itoshi

my most popular writing was for rin actually so…i am now finally doing him again! i hope you guys enjoy this one :) i have been rewatching blue lock again and forgot how much i like him….

——————

rin didn’t like boring. he would always complain and complain about “NPCS” and “how half baked everyone was”. he was rather picky about who he would spend time with. when you asked him after class if he could help with with soccer practice he was confused. you were on the girls team for the school, but you were entirely new to the sport. you knew how well rin played the sport, as you always saw him practicing after school. you would always stand and watch in awe, he played with such a grace you didn’t know was possible. you would smile and haphazardly wave before booking it home, it was cold outside after all.

“please just a little after school? i’ll buy you the new horror video game everyone is talking about!!!” you said leaning over his desk. you were desperate. your team had dubbed you as striker, which was fine, but recently you had been losing inspiration for your position. rin rolled his eyes, putting his hand on the desk.

“fine. but only for 30 minutes and you leave, then i can really practice.” he muttered. rin didn’t have any special way with words except for saying them exactly as he wanted to, as straight out as possible. as you were rippling with excitement you went to your desk and sat down, making conversation with your friends nearby. it wasn’t long until the school bell rang finally.

after finally lacing up your cleats, rin was standing there in the middle of the field, hand on his hip like some sassy queen. you rolled your eyes this time. “you’re late.” he said sternly. “okay well there were a lot of girls in the locker room okay, the basketball team is practicing today.” you said pouting. after some discussion of how far along into soccer you were, rin decided maybe he’d just keep it more simple…after all you were a beginner. “let’s do a little 1v1 rin.” you said, amusement in your eyes. he looked absolutely unpleased. “what.” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“well i’ll get better inspiration from this, PLUS, you said we could only practice together for 30 minutes and we’re ALREADY running low on that time.” you said, putting a hand on your hip in turn.

“fine.” he said, walking to his respective spot. “let’s see what you got.” you beamed, before turning around and running to your spot too. he had let you start with the ball, just to kind of give you a step up since he was more advanced than you…

since it was just a 1v1 he was probably gonna act a little more defensive. faking him out seemed like the best idea. you ran at him, not haltering in your stride, when he came to be a few feet away from you, his eyes completely focused on the ball at your feet. you tried a simple elastico (those are NOT simple to do), and you weren’t shocked when he saw through it and darted for the ball, but instead, in those two seconds you had ahead of him, you blasted the ball to the goal. there was no goal keeper, and if there was they 100% would of gotten that shot, but since it was just the two of you, you technically made the goal. you turned and laughed at rin, it was a lucky shot, but it was funnier to you that you got it. of course he wasn’t operating at 100%, if he was you would of been humbled.

he watched as you laughed, only maybe a feet or two away from him. you hands were swinging as you pointed at him, and you pony tail was already falling out. you nose crinkled a little as your mouth was open. your laugh basically filled the entire area, as well as his head. he wasn’t sure that sound would ever come out.

“again.” he said rolling his eyes. it was safe to say you didn’t make anymore goals, not until he pulled you aside. “when you’re shooting for your goal, make it feel like you’re staking your life on it, like the first goal you did. losing in soccer is like dying.” he said with a straight face. you couldn’t help but snicker a bit. “losing and winning are two sides of the same coin rin, you cannot have one without the other.” you said cocking your head to the side. that was basic knowledge, no? he sat with a blank expression on his face. “that’s not what it feels like.” he grunted, before getting up.

“come on let’s practice some one touches and goal shots.” he said dragging you by your jersey away from your precious water. “wait! but the 30 minutes are up!” you said raising your eyebrows.

“i didn’t say we were done with practice did i?” he stated, turning to look at you. you had a little smirk growing up the side of your face. he immediately turned away, wondering if he was turning red because of the sharp cold or something else…

after it was starting to get respectably dark, you both were packing up. “oh! what platform do you want me to buy the game for you on by the way? i promised id do it.” you said looking at rin. “you don’t actually have to do that..” he said looking down. “but it’s a good game!! i bought it too and it looks like fun! it’s a co-op horror game, though the quality is kind of bad..” you said rambling as you packed up. “i don’t have any friends to play a co-op game with.” he stated, finally making eye contact. “ you stood up facing him, “what do you mean i’m literally right here.” you said narrowing your brows. “we will play together!”

he couldn’t help but crack a small smile, “okay.”

you beamed at him, grabbing his arm out of excitement, “that’s literally the first time i’ve ever seen you smile.” you said laughing. your laughter was like music to his ears, it felt like honey oozing into his brain. it was like a warm melody. he adored it already.

“put a jacket on, you don’t want all the heat escaping your body already when it’s this cold out.” he said. nodding, you slip your hoodie on.

the two of you walk home, before getting ready to split up. “isn’t your house that way rin?” you asked curiously. “it is. why?” he asked. “well then why are you still walking this way?” you asked stopping in the road.

“i’m walking you home, you NPC” he said grabbing your hoodie sleeve and dragging you behind him. you giggled, “well why didn’t you just say so.” you hummed, linking your arm with his. you hadn’t thought much of the action, this was how you walked with your other friends. rins mind basically exploded. all he could focus on was the portion of your arms touching and occasionally your side bumping into his. when you unlinked his arm and walked over to say hi to the neighbors cat, he was ultimately disappointed. he sure as hell wasn’t going to initiate anything. he just watched softly as you interacted with the fluffy creature.

“rin come say hi!” you said, turning around with the cat in your arms. as you were smiling down on the cat, he was watching you. he liked cats, and so he knew how to interact with them. he softly pet it too. you put it down before turning and walking towards your home.

“oh! before i leave let me put my number in your phone!” you said with your hand out. fumbling, he handed his phone to you.

“text me when you get home safely, AND we can play the video game later tonight okay?” you said. he nodded.

“make sure you shower first. good night.” he said softly rubbing the top of your hair before turning around and heading back. he laughed a little hearing you fume about how you “knew to shower”.

“good night rin!!!” you shouted before running into your home. you weren’t expecting him to do that to you, you thought leaning against the door clutching your face. at least now school was even more exciting…

#rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock #blue lock x reader

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