#I'd read random thoughts more on how interesting they are

[outlying-hyppocrate]

positively despising how my consistent personality is leaving me and how i resort to such strange lies

[noxtivagus]

my skill is making nonsense out of nothing fr 👍

[russellsppttemplates]

you want to know how Lando fell in love with you

Note: the last bit is inspired by one of my favourite books I re-read the other day, A Risk on Forever and the prompt from here - they're my favourites ✨️

"Tell me how you fell in love with me", you asked as you brushed Lando's curls away from his forehead, twirling them in your finger as you admired his handsome face.

"I literally told you that yesterday-", he chuckled, kissing your wrist a couple of times and earning your melodic giggles.

"I don’t care, I wanna hear it again. Plus, I like hearing your voice, it's soothing", you kissed his throat and laid you head on his chest.

"It wasn't a straight away thing - not like in the way I was attracted to you, because that was an instant thing, my body didn't lie about that", the rubble of his chuckle resonated in your cheek, "I was gradually more and more interested to get to know you, to know what you liked, what you wanted to do with life, what made you feel happy, what made you feel loved, because one morning I woke up and it hit me that if you ever left, like, moved jobs from Quadrant and I'd never get to see you again, and you walked out of my life, it would feel like losing one of my legs", he admitted, "you belonged in my life - even if at that point we hadn't really spent that much time together and it wasn't like you were someone I saw everyday, but the thought of there being a time where I didn't see you everyday meant you had to be a part of my life".

He could feel your lips curving upwards on his skin, tracing random shaped on your back as he continued, "it bothered me to know that you were out there and that you weren't mine the way I was yours - I was yours way before you were mine, and you know that - and, yes, it took me a whole to tell you, but I don't regret it", he pulled you up so you could kiss his lips, "did that sound nice enough?", he giggled.

"The absolute best", you giggled before kissing him again, "I love you, Lando".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[httpswritings]

@alexiaps94 has liked your profile — Alexia Putellas x Reader

Word count: around 648

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Alexia match on an exclusive dating app.

“@alexiaps94 has liked your profile”

That was first notification you saw when you first checked your phone in the morning, still half asleep.

Some days ago, you signed up on Like.ly, an app similar to Tinder but extremely exclusive. The app was directed to wealthy people and reputed celebrities. You had to e-mail the company and wait if they accepted you on the company. If you were, you had to go through an interview where they'll ask you all types of questions, as the company itself would look for some potential matches to get you started. They did not succeed to your liking. They matched you with all sort of celebrities, but nobody properly caught your eye. 

You weren't a football fan, but you knew who Alexia was because of the expectation she woke up when she won her second Ballon D'Or and when Spain won the World Cup, as the press talked non-stop about the different problems with the federation, especially about the incident during the final. 

You clicked on her profile. Her profile pic was a picture with her dog, Nala. She had more pictures uploaded; you could see her with her family, her friends, her team and by herself. You scrolled down to the “About Me” paragraph.

“Hi! My name is Alexia. I like playing football, spending time with my family and learning new things. 😃”

“Cute”, you thought. You hesitated about what your next move should be. You liked her profile but decided to not write her yet. 

“Hi. I saw your profile some days ago and you seem lovely. I'd love to hear from you”. You hated the way you wrote that text. “Y/N, you want to get to know her as a friend, maybe as something more, this is not a business meeting”, you said to yourself. Your text was fine, you were only overreacting. If you knew they way Alexia reacted to your text, you'd feel more than accomplished with yourself.

“Hi, Y/N. Thank you! You seem really lovely too. I'm seeing that you have four cats! Wow, that's some good company. I think a get along better with dogs because I've been around them my whole life, but the cat life sounds fun too. 😸”

You chuckled as you read her message. “She's indeed very lovely”, you thought. 

“Yeah, so damn crazy, but it's quite fun😸😹” You had never used those emojis. Weird. Adorable but weird.

As you kept talking during the week with Alexia, you got to know her better. She told you about the passing of her dog, Nala, and how bad that affected her. You told each other about your life: family, friends, place of work. She even taught you a little bit of football, and you were so entertained you couldn't quite believe it, as you never showed any interested in football except for some random matches of the men's world cup. You started to educate yourself in women's football.

“Can I call you?”, was the message you received from her on a Saturday night. You had spent the whole day rotting on your sofa and talking to Alexia until your eyes started to feel really heavy. As she called you, and you responded, you started to breath uncontrollably rapid but at the same time, you felt so comfortable listening to her. Alexia's voice was soft, and her laugh sounded so delicate, you felt butterflies in your stomach every time you made her laugh.

“It was nice talking to you, Ale, but we both need some rest, especially you. You have training tomorrow.”

“... I liked hearing you calling me Ale”

“I like hearing you, Ale.”

“God, are you always this flirty?”

“Not in person. I'll have to be a little bit tougher when I'll have you in front of me.”

“No, don't be. I'm pretty sure I'd love the timid version of you. I can't wait to see it.”

[ilys00ga]

𝐒𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞.

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 4k

➞ synopsis: buying a pretty vase from an antiques shop can't be that bad of an idea, can it?

➞ genre: fantasy, some angst, bitter sweetness is good for our hearts, fluff, hurt/comfort, cursed ghost!yoongi...

➞ A/N: So, this isn't the fic I talked about before, but I still wanted to post something while I take my time to figure out what the hell I wanted the other fic to be. this is purely inspired by a random prompt I found on a random website, and I wanted to give it a try. I hope u like it <3

ps. PLEASEEEE !!!!!!! do not hesitate to send me ur feedback (comments, asks, reblogs... whatever u want) !!!!!! just give me ur opinions. I'd love to hear it all :,)

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The tips of my fingers meticulously traced the lines and patterns that coated the vase between my hands. A gorgeous ceramic vase that came with an even more gorgeous lid I had come upon at the small antiques store a few hours earlier, which—in my honest, humble opinion—was poorly and deficiently frequented given the amount of goodness it vends.

It was one that I’ve passed by many times on my way to work before, located in an old street busy with other art stores. Each time I’d stopped at it, fascinated by the items I could see through colorless glass, I’d get that strange desire to enter and discover what it had to offer me, but it wasn’t strong enough to pull me inside.

Broken or not, there’s magic hidden in those old items. Stories and emotions traveling from the past all the way to my heart.

Until one day, I decided to surrender to those powerful items and made my way through the front door. It was indeed a dusty magic shop.

I put the vase on the table with extra care and opened the lid, my dog running around somewhere in the other room. A quick look inside the vase, however, had my brows rising.

"Is this.. powder?" I asked myself.

Back in the shop, nothing hinted that the vase contained anything, nor did the owner utter a single word about it. She, in fact, didn't even seem to be that interested in her very few customers, if I were to be honest. The newspaper she was reading throughout all that short period of time I was in there had her eyes fixed on it, for the most part.

I swallowed hard, feeling like my heart had been ripped off my chest and drowned in icy cold water with the thought of getting unknowingly tangled in some illegal activities.

Loud barks, then the crashing of something cut my new overwhelming awareness short, and I sprinted in search of my hyper dog.

"What did you break this time, Holly?" I made quick work of cleaning the mess Holly had made, giving him some treats because he looked so cute nonetheless then returned to what I had decided to call a cursed beauty later on.

Upon entering the room, the sight of a man looking through my limited collection of vinyls with his back facing me made my legs freeze in their place, and my heart almost slipped out of my mouth in another alert panic.

"What the hell?!" my lips shouted before I could even think of finding something to defend myself in the face of that stranger.

The man dropped the disk in his hands and faced me with wide eyes. His startled expression quickly snapped into a kind smile, and he spoke, "Hey, are you the one who opened the urn?"

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?!!" my heart was pounding in my ears. I quickly went through the details from the moment I walked into the apartment to that of when I came back to the room, checking if I missed any hints of somebody breaking in or not.

The stranger started walking towards me with an arm stretched out, and I quickly backed away, looking around before grabbing the first hard object I could find within my sight line, "Stay away from me!"

"Relax, I'm not here to hurt you." He stopped in his tracks and raised his hands in the air, "I'm Yoongi, Min Yoongi, and you just set me free from that damn urn. Thank you, by the way."

The more he talked, the colder my blood was running in my veins and the slippier the object was becoming as I gripped it with sweating hands for dear life. Nothing he said made any sense. All I could do was shout in frustration, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

The patter of paws slapped across the corridor floor, and Holly came running into the living room. The dog started barking when he saw the stranger, but the latter didn’t even flinch. Instead, he sighed, breathing heavily through his nose, and then looked back up at me. But before he could say anything more, I huffed.

"Are you a serial killer?" I wanted to cry. Actually, he looked too pretty to be that coldhearted. I figured that maybe if I cried, he'd feel bad and leave me alone. Or maybe, if I took the chance to launch at him first, right then and there, that'd do something.

I could either die an honorable death, attempting to fighting back, or lay myself bare skinned for my predator, and no one would be a witness outside of the walls of the room that were only getting colder and colder by the ticking seconds.

Well, maybe Holly would, but he’s busy barking, not moving from his place at all.

"Look, I really don't know how you ended up here. I-I don't want to know, yeah? I will even let you go and not speak a single word about this. Just please don't kill me. Yeah? I'd do anything you want, just- please?" I began to plead, sweating like crazy even though the room around felt too icy.

The man didn’t reply, crouching down to lure my dog over. Holly’s small head cocked to the side before slowly moving closer to him. If I weren't busy trying to steady my breathing while simultaneously making sense of whatever was going on in the middle of my living room, I would’ve palmed my face.

"I told you, I'm Yoongi and I'm not a serial killer. This thing you have here, the one you just opened," he explained, nodding towards the open ceramic vase on the table, "I, my soul was trapped in there."

I blinked, a beat or two slipped through my lips, then muttered, “You’re being serious?”

“Why would I lie about something like this?” he retorted, hands petting the pet on his lap, and added in a softer voice, “I understand how crazy this sounds, but in simpler words, I was trapped inside and once the lid was lifted, which is what you have done, I was able to get out.”

“Oh, so you say once the vase is shut again you’ll go back there, is that it?” I breathed out, picking my words cautiously.

He hummed and nodded, still focused on the dog he was playing with. Taking my chance, I rushed towards the table. With trembling hands, I grabbed the lid and screwed the vase shut.

"No, wait! Don't clo-"

Silence…

The familiar sound of multiple clocks ticking together, hand in hand and almost perfectly at the same time, welcomed me into the antiques shop.

The shop was practically empty. No customers were in sight. My only audience was the oil paintings hanging on the walls, the lamps and the crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, the tables and the surfaces that displayed everything: from old jewelry to dolls and collectible plates and cups, the sculptures in different shapes and sizes scattered everywhere, the old books, cameras, vases and musical instruments…

They all stared at me and the vase I was holding tightly to my chest.

Walking ahead, I reached the front counter where the same old woman stood reading some newspaper. Despite the clearly audible bell that rang every time the door was swung open, she didn't seem to be recognizing my entrance. I cleared my throat in an attempt to grab her attention, but it fell on blinded ears.

Sighing, I put the vase on the counter with a thud and declared my aimed objective, "I'm here to return this."

"No exchange, no refund." The woman finally, but dryly, replied.

"You have to understand, I can't keep this anymore." I insisted.

"No exchange, no refund!" She repeated in a stern tone, looking up and meeting my eyes.

"Fine," I took a deep, long breath in, "you're the owner, tell me what do I do with it then."

"Its colors go very well with any kind of furniture, but I'd say keep it on a shelf amidst other decorations." The contrast between the way she spoke so friendly and the tight smile she had on her lips poked at my nerves.

"Are you kidding me? I just said I don't want this cursed thing anywhere near me! It has a weird powder in it! and-" I paused, lowering my voice despite the fact that the shop was empty—minus me, its owner and its goods, "some weird ghost appeared out of it!"

The antiquarian silently folded her newspaper, put it on the counter in front of her, and stayed silent for a while, staring deeply into my eyes.

"Use the ashes and break the curse." She mumbled.

"Ashes…? What?"

"You heard me. Break the curse and save the dead." She didn't say anything further, busying herself with the newspaper again, and that was my key to leave.

"Next time, don't sell cursed stuff to innocent people who don't have enough time on their hands." I turned on my heels and stomped out of the shop with the vase between my hands.

Three days later:

“Alright, talk to you later.”

Stepping into the apartment, I hung up the phone and put it on the small coffee table. Holly was curled up on the sofa with his nose tucked under his tail. My body naturally bent down, and I pecked the pup’s head affectionately.

It had been exactly three days since I came back from the small antiques shop, put the vase on the shelf, and never dared to touch it again. Every morning and every night, I’d stared at it and contemplated whether I ought to open it and investigate what the hell was going on or not. The shop owner’s words never left my ears, ‘break the curse and save the soul.’

Three days had passed, and I still hadn’t made my mind up or got to any simple conclusion whatsoever. The thought of having somebody else’s ashes in my house made my stomach twist in ways, yet somehow I couldn't find the courage to empty the urn.

Well, at least it wasn't coke or something of the kind. That thought floated in my head as I lay on my bed the same night I’d come back from the shop.

Stuck in a quandary between the fear of what could be awaiting me and the burden that was unceasingly weighing both my heart and mind, I knew that having a staring contest with that damn container day and night wasn’t going to do me any good.

After yet another fruitless debate between me and my conscious mind, I slowly walked towards the shelf, carefully put my hand over the lid, lifted it up and stared at the powder—the ashes inside.

I waited, nothing happened. Looked around the room, nothing happened.

For a moment, I could feel a scoff bubbling its way up my throat. It was ridiculous, I felt ridiculous for expecting something, for believing that something would happen and that all of that madness was real.

How could a tale about the soul of a cursed, handsome man popping out of an ancient vase be real?

But then again, I recalled the thing the old woman had said to me, as well as that encounter I had with the strange man. Very vividly clear. I remembered it, it happened, it was real.

"You didn't throw it away." A low voice came from behind and made me jolt in surprise.

There he was, the strange man—Yoongi leaning on the doorframe with both of his hands tucked in his pockets.

Part of me was grateful he was there because I didn't have to worry about my mental well-being deteriorating. But the other one shivered, creeped out by his presence, by the whole situation.

"Thank you." Why is he so polite? "I was scared you too would throw me away." Oh?

I lightly shook my head, trying to find the proper words to express myself, and I said, "Listen, I need answers."

“I figured. What is it that you want to know?”

"I-I talked to the person that sold this thing to me, and she said that I need to use these… ashes to break a curse.” Somehow, my brain was more than aware of the fact that the man standing a few steps away from me was most probably not human.

“yeah…?” He mumbled back, “didn’t she say how to do that?”

I shook my head ‘no’, and if his disappointed, broken look surprised me, I tried my best not to make it visibly noticeable.

“What the hell are you exactly?” I asked. I wasn't sure what emotion(s) I was feeling at that very moment exactly. I couldn’t put a name to it to save my life. But I surely didn’t mean to sound as exasperated as my voice made me out to be. I could see his throat work as he gulped, eyes averting from mine to look down at the floor for a moment before looking up again.

"I died a hundred years ago. A witch attempted to kill me, and she did, before casting a curse and trapping me inside that thing over there." he pointed towards the antique vase behind me, then added, "in my ashes. I've been trapped there for years. Some people did stumble upon me when they opened it over the years. Just like you did. But they never gave me one chance to even speak, and they threw it out immediately."

“But why? What did you do to deserve all of this?”

A gloom overcame his eyes, yet his voice was steady and deep as his lips stretched into a smile that only the word ‘sour’ could do its description justice.

"That's what happens when one falls in love with a witch.” He replied, “anyways, that’s all I know. I've been trying to figure out how to break the curse, but being stuck in a jar serves for nothing.”

Neither of us spoke for a while, him standing amidst the echoes of his past and my voice trying to find its way through the strangled words stuck in my throat.

“I’ll help you.” I spoke, breaking the heavy silence.

“Really?” His face was so full of hope it sent my heart clenching between my ribs.

“Yeah. This is making me anxious as well, I have no other choice.” I answered, brushing it off with a shrug.

“What brings you back here?” said the antiquarian who was busy polishing some old pocket watches, her glaces hanging low on the tip of her nose.

“I- We need some help.” I answered, and her head snapped up to find me and Yoongi staring back at her at the front counter.

“How could an old antiques shop owner possibly be of any help to you youngsters?” She asked again.

“I assure you that I’m not younger than you.” came a comment from Yoongi.

She stared at him, her relaxed expression turning tense, and then she looked at me again. Instead of providing an answer, I put the open vase in front of her. She gave it a quick look and then looked back into my eyes. “You are one stubborn young woman.”

“I’m not here to return it.” I cut her off to explain myself, “I’m here to know how to break the curse and release his soul.”

“I see you let him walk around freely.”

“Why is that a problem?” I asked with furrowed brows.

“Why wouldn’t a wandering dead be a problem to the living?” Her brows rose just as she gestured with her head towards Yoongi, as if stating the most obvious scientific fact, “anyhow, you want to know what to do next, don’t you?”

I hummed.

“All you need to do is throw the ashes into the ocean, let it dissolve and become one with the salt water. Tomorrow, when the sun sets.”

“Why specifically tomorrow?” I asked.

“Full moon. Or else your efforts will go down the drain. Do not let that happen” She emphasized on the last part through gritted teeth.

“How do you know so much?” Yoongi was the one to ask.

“I am nothing but a mere shop owner. Buying old stuff and selling them, that’s what I do.”

“You must be a special kind, then.” He bantered.

She shrugged and replied, “I study my products. We’re talking about items that date back to hundreds of years ago.”

She handed me a small pouch bag and told me to put the ashes in there, saying that it would be easier than carrying an open urn around. She seemed displeased with Yoongi’s presence, which was quite understandable, but it didn’t phase him as he was more interested in the shop around him. Walking around with curious eyes.

“Do not spend too much time out there.” was the last thing she addressed to Yoongi before we walked out of the shop.

“You think there’s more cursed things in that shop?” he asked.

“I do not want to think about it.” He chuckled at my response, then I added, “Full moon is tomorrow night.. Do you want to spend one last day with me?"

"Sorry?"

"I think you deserve one last good day before.. resting."

I watched him give my offer a thought as we walked down the street, then he broke into a wide smile, "You mean it?"

“Of course! You’re new here. We can't do much in less than a day, but we can do things around the town. And then we’ll go to the beach before the sun sets, do what we need to do…”

“That sounds way too good to be true.”

“We'll make it true.” I reassured him with a nod.

The next morning, I found Yoongi sitting with a book I could easily recognize from my own collection resting in his hands. He had told me that since he doesn’t sleep, he spent the night reading from my bookshelf. After a few minutes of me listening as he talked so passionately, impressed by everything he’d read, I decided it was time to commence my mission of granting the man his most merited happy day.

It started with a short trip to a well-known bakery, where I made him try whatever his heart—and stomach—desired of baked goods. I bought him wine to taste, and he said it bore no resemblance to that of ancient times. That's how we found ourselves running a taste test on a bunch of beverage bottles, and he had the same reaction to all of them. I also ended up getting him some soda cans to try, and he liked them.

I rented two bikes. It took some time for him to adjust, whining about being confined inside a jar for a hundred years. But once he got the hang of it, we went wandering around the streets of the city with the breeze kissing our cheeks.

I then brought him to a park, one he later said he really liked. We walked between the trees and let the grass tickle our toes. Sat between colorful flowers, redolent with the scent of an early spring. He made a crown and insisted on taking a picture of me with it. He later revealed that he used to love nature the most when he was still alive, and talked about the days he’d spent in the green despite his father’s constant insistence on marriage and building a family of his very own.

I asked him how old he was when he died, he said twenty-eight. And suddenly, his appearance made sense after that. Too young and too handsome, how could the world still let go of him?

He laughed when I made a comment about that and joked, saying that apparently his past lover didn’t want him to live past twenty-eight. I could feel the heavy pain in that joke slicing at my neck, stinging, and I swallowed it down.

He stopped to pet every dog and cat that crossed our path. I couldn’t help but take a picture or two, though the camera never caught his reflection in its frame.

I made sure to drag him towards the kid’s section of the park, where I taught him how to play in the slides and the swings and spring riders. Two grown-ups playing around in a kids’ playground had its fair amount of questioning stares, but hearing him giggle and seeing his wide grin was more than worth it.

We kept on talking nonstop about the differences between our timelines. We made it to a bridge that looked over a lake, the clouds above reflected on the water surface, glowing with the sun behind them. Yoongi started throwing small pieces of bread for the floating ducks, and I just stood there, observing.

“What other place do you want to go to?”

“The beach.” He answered, not looking up from his task. “My favorite place.”

It was a couple of hours before the sunset when we finally made it to the beach. There was a chill in the air that evening, the sand wasn’t as burning as it probably was when the sun was still up high in the sky, beaming. I let my lungs sip on the fresh scent of the ocean as I took a deep breath in, watching Yoongi approach the water with distant eyes.

He let the foamy edge climb its way to his toes, dipping his ankles and then retreating to the sea. He sat on the sand and I did the same.

We didn’t talk. We just sat there and watched the waves dancing with the wind as the sun sank to meet the horizon.

It wasn’t until shades of blue, orange and red blended, interwoven as they painted the breathtaking scenery before us that he spoke in a hushed voice, as though he’d startle the sun and make it rush to hide under the ocean if he spoke any louder, “Thank you for everything, really. No one has ever been this nice to me, even when I was still alive. This meant the most to me.”

I smiled.

“You know, if I were still alive, or if we had met sometime in my lifetime, I would’ve done everything I could to keep you by my side.” I could see him scratch at the back of his head from the corner of my eye, and I turned to see his giddy smile.

“you shouldn’t say things like this ‘cause I’m going to be thinking about it for the rest of my life.” I said, sheepishly.

His smile grew bigger, “Sounds superb. At least someone will remember me.”

My heart clenched.

“You deserve to be remembered.” I said.

“I really don’t.” I could see tears pricking his eyes as they turned a faint red. I had so much to ask at that moment, but I couldn’t. Words were stuck behind my teeth, and I just turned my head to face the horizon again.

“It’s time.” He noted, standing up and offering his hand to me. I took it in mine and stood on my feet, gripping the pouch between my fingers. We marched deeper into the sea, deep enough that the water reached our knees.

“ready?” I asked one last time, and he nodded, his smile never fading away.

The pouch felt so heavy as I untied its drawstring, carefully emptying its content into the water. Yoongi stood behind me, and I didn’t have the heart to look over my shoulder.

It took everything in me to turn around, and when I did, he was no longer there. Breeze blew in my face, and I swear I could feel warmth touching my skin for a moment, or two.

Whether I’d want to visit that antique shop again or not was something I still can’t put my finger on, but somewhere, somehow, deep down I knew I was thankful for it guided the vase– the urn to my hands.

And I whispered prayers of him resting at peace ever after as I looked up at the glowing moon above and the sparkling stars that swimmed all around it.

Grieving a person I never knew, but had the chance to cross paths with, at last.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

White lies [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k

summary: you meet Spencer thanks to a nice coincidence and you become recurring chess partners, but he leaves out a small detail

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

Spencer had come back to that park after a long time and, honestly, it was as quiet as he remembered it. He liked to sit there to read, watch the birds, listen to the trees hitting each other; just enjoy a moment of life. Matthew, a teenager he used to play chess with, sometimes kept him company, but he knew from his mother that he had sprained his ankle and could barely get out of his room, so those evenings it was just him and a couple of old men in a remote section of his favorite hangout.

The book he had in hand could have finished in less than ten minutes if he had wanted to, but it was one he had a particular interest in and so he was taking notes in a notebook by his side, lengthening his reading time. And besides, he had proposed to take things a little more calmly since the recovery of his leg, now that he could walk by himself, and that seemed to him a quite useful exercise.

The man was dimly aware that someone was sitting at the table next to his, but curiosity was not enough to force him to look away from the pages. It wasn't until after a while that he heard the characteristic sound of the chess pieces moving in the box that formed the board that he paid attention and noticed that the one who was settling there was a woman.

He tried not to look at you too much so as not to make you uncomfortable, but the quick scan he gave you only led him to the conclusion that you might be a college student and that you were very pretty. You were carefully arranging the pieces and once you finished, you looked around the whole park as if you were looking for something or someone, and then you took a pack of chocolates from your backpack and put it to the side of the board, somewhat disappointed that you hadn't found who you expected.

"Are you waiting for Matthew?" Spencer dared to ask. You were startled and had to ask him to repeat the question, a little afraid that a stranger had made such a pointed remark "I've seen him a couple of times eating those sweets and since he likes chess, I thought you were expecting him"

"Oh, you know him" you exclaimed, a little calmer. You were surprised by how observant the man had been, for a couple of random pieces of information had led him to the correct conclusion "I was his babysitter for a while and I ran into his mother the other day and she said he comes here in the evenings so I thought I'd come to see him”

“Too bad, he has a sprained ankle,” he informed you, with a sad grin. “Maybe he'll be back in a week or two. I'm Spencer, by the way."

"Y/N" you introduced yourself, shaking the hand the man was offering you "So you guys are friends?"

"Sometimes I play with him"

"Huh yeah?"

"Yeah. He is very good"

“I taught him,” you said, quite proud of yourself, “I hated when he asked to watch TV, and I brought all kinds of board games over to his house, until finally chess captivated him. In those years he participated in school contests so I was excited to play with him "

“Did you win some?”

“I was undefeated” you exclaimed, even more proud of yourself and smiling wistfully “But after a few years I gave it up. Matthew continued, so I thought it would be nice to dust myself off a bit,” you smiled.

You took a moment to look at the man, who might be only a few years older than you, and like him you were somewhat captivated. His long, wavy, golden hair gleamed in the sun and he seemed to wear clothes that were, if not expensive, then at least quite elegant. You looked at the stack of books and the notes scattered on the table with great interest, because frankly the only men who met all those characteristics used to be your grandfather's age and, although their talks were interesting, you couldn't get to think of them with anything more than tenderness. This person was different, almost like a sage out of a book.

You didn't know where you found the words to invite him to play with you and you didn't know why he agreed. He seemed busy when you arrived, which made you think that he might even be a teacher, but he stopped his activities to pay attention to you and that made you feel special.

"You like them? You can take some if you want. They were for Matty, but I'll buy him some more,” you said kindly, referring to the candies between you, to which Spencer nodded with a smile. You used to play with strangers all the time in that park, so you didn't think it was weird, but never one as handsome as the guy in front of you. You probably wouldn't even have dared to talk to him if he hadn't talked to you “White or black?”

“Black,” Spencer replied. You thought that maybe he was just being chivalrous to you by letting you move first, but you were also overconfident in your abilities and thought that he might feel bad if you turned out to be better.

"I'm not very good, I have to admit" you blatantly lied.

"Relax, I'm not either" he also lied. But neither of you could notice it.

The way Spencer saw the situation, he had two options: the first, demonstrate his extraordinary intelligence by beating you with a couple of moves, or the second, which was to turn off his brain for a while to give yourself a chance and lengthen the game a bit. He knew that, if he took the first option, you would most likely just smile and flatter him like everyone else did, or you might even ask him how he had done that. But Spencer was sick of being treated like a genius, despite being one, and having that label branded in his mind every place he went. He loved to learn, teach and know as much as he could on all subjects and he wasn't one bit ashamed of the abilities his mother gave him at birth, but his short experience with women led him to deduce that he had a better chance of continuing to talk to you throughout the afternoon if he would just play a little silly and pretend not to know what he was doing. And he definitely wanted to be with you that day.

It had been a while, and at some point, you moved a bishop.

Check in 4 moves if Spencer moved the rook.

He moved a pawn, you took the pawn.

Bishop takes the pawn and check in 10 moves.

He moved the knight. You moved your queen

Rook takes queen then checkmate in 5 moves.

But Spencer ignored any of the logical options his brain was giving him. He was moving pieces wrong on purpose and moving another pair well just so he could enjoy your face of concentration and victorious smiles when you made a smart move that he could have foreseen from the start of the game. He analyzed your game, you attacked hard at first, you were impulsive, but at some point you changed your modus operandi to a more calculating and strategic one, your eyebrows gave you away when you were going to make an important play.

"Check" you muttered at some point. Spencer knew how to beat you, but, I repeat, he moved badly on purpose "And that's mate"

"Oh really?" he said, pretending to be puzzled.

"Yes, you left the way clear for my bishop" you explained, with a kind tone but also somewhat condescending. It didn't seem like you wanted to make fun of him, but rather you were looking for a way to make him see his mistake, without knowing that your companion knew exactly what he had done wrong.

"Oh, it's true"

"Either way it's fine, you played excellent" you exclaimed to comfort him, while you offered him a piece of candy and smiled broadly. Spencer looked at his phone, expecting to see a message from JJ saying there was a case to attend to, but he found nothing.

"A rematch?" he said, trying his luck, to which you answered yes quite happily.

Spencer won that game and it was inevitable for both of you to wish for another game just for the tiebreaker, with you crowning yourself the winner of the evening. Between movements you took the opportunity to look at him and you would lie when you said that your cheeks didn’t feel hot from being in the presence of such a peculiar specimen. Most of the men around you behaved like cavemen, so being with someone that civilized was most pleasant.

“I have to go home, it's getting dark already,” you said, quite sad, after that third game. The candy had already run out and Spencer's book had been forgotten to the side, but you still didn't want to walk away with just the memory of those hazel eyes “But if you're ever around again, we could play… if you want."

"I'd love to" he replied, sounding quite sincere.

Would it be too daring to ask for his number? What if it had just been a nice time that arose from a coincidence? You didn't want to spoil it, or scare him away, or anything like that.

You only said goodbye saying that you hoped to see him again and he said the same thing before the two of you went off on your own, fearing you would never see each other again.

After a few days you went back to the park hoping to meet him, but you were disappointed to see the empty spot. The process was repeated a couple of times and although you were carrying books to spend the afternoon, the chess board could never be missing from your bag, keeping the hope of finding him again. Time wasn't wasted after all, as you took the opportunity to continue your schoolwork outdoors, but it saddened you to think that you probably wouldn't see Spencer again, going so far as to regret not finding a way to contact him. But whoever perseveres, reaches, and you verified it when one afternoon you finally found him sitting at the same table as the first time.

“Spencer! What a joy to see you here” you greeted him casually, as if you hadn't been going to the park repeatedly just hoping to find him.

The man apologized to you saying that his work had kept him so busy that he hadn't even had time to stop by and when you asked what he did for a living you were met with an ambiguous answer that he held a position in a government office. Not a complete lie, but not the truth either.

That's how you kept finding him around to play with him, until at some point you barely paid attention to the board to give priority to the chat. Every time you saw each other you thought, without the slightest idea of the truth, that Spencer had been practicing to improve, because sometimes out of five games you only won two. But other days you might have a perfect streak that, while it made you feel happy, allowed you to comfort your friend a little.

You had started carrying different snacks to at some point find out which one was his favorite, which turned out to be the trail mix and, truth be told, it was something you expected, as if it fit perfectly with his personality. That's how you started carrying a pack of those whenever you could, alternating it with other kinds of more substantial snacks that Spencer loved.

So it was that, during the nearly two months that Matthew was unable to go to the park, you and Spencer kept each other company. You learned that he was an avid reader that, according to your first impression of him, he had taught a few classes, that he lived alone, loved classical music, was a big fan of science fiction and science in general, in short, he was a bit of a nerd. He was always telling you interesting facts that you couldn't even have imagined and you always listened very carefully.

One day you were concentrating on your next move when his voice interrupted you. It was a very beautiful afternoon and you had decided to put on light clothes that fluttered in the wind.

“I forgot to tell you. I brought you a book” was what he had said and from his brown leather briefcase he extracted a book with a faded cover that he handed over to you with great care.

“Sylvia Plath?” you exclaimed with total emotion. You had talked about the interest you had in starting to read it in one of the last meetings, because considering Spencer a connoisseur of literature, he would probably know which book to start with "Where did you get it?"

"It was from my mother, but she won't mind if you read it"

You carefully caressed the back with your fingertips with the biggest smile on your face, feeling flushed at the obvious show of attention you were receiving.

"Thank you so much"

"It's no big deal"

"I'll give it back to you soon"

"Take the time you need" he exclaimed sweetly. He was wearing a gray knit vest and a black dot-patterned formal shirt, along with a brown tie. His hair framed his face and looked so soft it made you want to reach out and just stroke it. You had been so stunned watching him, wondering if he was a real man or not, until he reminded you that it was your turn.

You moved your queen. Check in 7 moves.

"Spencer, can I confess something to you?"

He moved his bishop. He is saved from check.

"Huh, yeah"

“These last few weeks I have had a lot of fun. I really like being with you”

He looked at you for a second, as if he was waiting for a but that never came. There was no but you just liked being with him. Reid didn't usually find many people who would enjoy his company without a work commitment involved and that you had said something like that made him feel a warmth in his heart that he couldn't describe.

"I just wanted to tell you that, no... I hope I wasn't weird"

"I like being with you, too," he exclaimed immediately, hoping you didn't get the wrong idea. "It's probably the most normal and quiet thing that happens during my week."

“You've never told me what you do at work, is it paperwork and stuff? Bureaucratic processes?

“Something like that” he lied “Most of the time it's stressful and very tiring. That's why I like coming here, with you, because it helps me relax. I used to play with a very dear friend, but I took a break because… I didn't feel like going back to it. But I have to admit that you are a wonderful player."

"I hope so. Because I'm about to beat you” you smiled, moving another piece and putting the game in check again. Spencer always knew that he had to move to win, but again he made enough mistakes to get beaten by you. Once this happened, he took his king and handed it to you with a small smile, allowing your hands to touch.

It was already getting a bit dark and that was the signal for both of you to come home.

"You won 3 out of 4," he informed you, more cheerful than he was supposed to be. "Rematch tomorrow?"

“Of course”

One of you always asked that and in the same way the other always answered yes. Come to think of it, it was pretty funny that when you lost the next afternoon you won and vice versa, allowing the promise of a rematch to always hold.

"Do you live far from here?"

You knew, of course, that there was another question implicit in it. He not only wanted to know how far away your apartment was, but he wanted to know if he could walk you there. You'd never thought of the two of you hanging out outside of your afternoon game sessions, so you told him it was about a fifteen-minute walk away, and he naturally offered to walk you there.

"You're not a serial killer or anything like that, are you?" you joked, although a part of you said it to watch his reaction and detect (if possible) any sign of a lie.

“I'm not, but it's quite right that you doubt me,” he replied, as he packed his things into his briefcase, smiling slightly as if he hadn't been offended but rather admired by a good question “From any man, really, because the largest number of serial killers is concentrated in the United States and 95% of murderers worldwide are… well, men. Possibly this is due to the levels of testosterone and the social implications of masculinity that exist, this isn’t counting the traumas that they may have developed during their lives. Speaking specifically of men with psychopathy, most of them are able to manipulate their chosen victims to gain their trust before harming them. Many murderers have been described as charming, an example of this is Ted Bundy, who even when he was arrested many women attended the trials with banners and self-declared his fans. A few years ago there was even a killer here in Virginia who would date young women and then kill them, because it was easier for him not to resist, but luckily he only took the lives of 3 women before he was caught”

Spencer wasn't even aware of the changes in expressions on your face until he looked at you, completely serious and doe-eyed.

"Should I be worried about the fact that you listed reasons why I shouldn't let you accompany me?"

“Oh no, no” he had probably scared you and it made him feel so sorry and silly “I just… like to read about it, I promise. In addition, I have a degree in psychology, sometimes we analyzed the profile of the murderers to understand their psyche. But if you don't want me to come with you, that's fine."

"I'll take the risk"

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry"

"You didn’t do it. It just wasn't such a convincing defense” you carefully reached out to grab his arm and encourage him to walk beside you, flashing him a sweet smile.

Spencer, still feeling guilty for having rambled on about psychopaths, walked by your side for a while, and until you started talking his mood improved. A lot of times your talks didn't have to do with anything scientific and focused more on pop culture stuff that Spencer was completely unaware of. But you never teased him, but little by little you started to explain to him the plot of different movies or celebrity gossip of the moment, which was very funny for him. Your vibrant personality had him completely fascinated.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you said once you got to your building. They were nice condos that Spencer had seen before.

"If something unforeseen does not arise, yes"

"Thanks for joining me. And for not being a murderer too” you laughed, still in a joking mood, while he looked at the ground a little embarrassed.

"Your lack of confidence hurts me"

"Admit that it's your fault, Doctor Reid" taking advantage of the artificial height difference that standing a few steps higher than him gave you, you leaned over to hug him goodbye and he sighed deeply as he felt the softness of your body against his "I hope you're well. Rest"

"Bye," he breathed out softly, entranced by the sight of your kind eyes looking directly at him.

He went home wishing with all his might that the job in the unit would allow him to meet you, but unfortunately it didn't, and since the two of you still hadn't thought of exchanging numbers he didn't find a way to apologize to you. He went to the park for several days in a row, but he couldn't find you anywhere and he was afraid that you wouldn't want to see him again. Had he done something wrong? Had you really believed that he could be a criminal? He probably explained to you what FBI unit he worked for and all that weird stuff he was telling you would have started to make sense.

He had already given up hope just the day you were practically running to the park, your chessboard bouncing through your bag and your breathing heavy as a sign of your poor physical condition.

You expected him to be there even with your repeated absences and when you finally arrived you noticed that around your usual table was a small group of people. You didn't know what it could be so you decided to go look too and you were surprised to discover Matty, whom it was the first time you'd seen in months, playing with nothing more and nothing less than your game partner. 

You knew Matty enjoyed playing fast chess, so a clock was sitting next to both of them, and Spencer seemed to be playing better than he ever had in his life. His eyes lasted a second to scan the positions of the pieces and another to move his own, without needing to make any effort to plan the right move.

Everyone around was impressed by the skill of the teenager and the man who, according to your deductions, had not played more than 15f minutes. After a couple more minutes Spencer smiled broadly and declared that the younger one was checkmated, drawing Matthew's complaint and collective applause for the feat.

"The boy is good, but not as good as him" an old man informed you, who apparently knew the development of these games very well.

Spencer enjoyed the cheers rather modestly for a moment, but when he caught sight of you watching him from the crowd he went completely pale.

"Hello," he hurried to greet you, getting up from his seat to approach you and causing the fan group to break up "You came."

"Yeah, I've been kind of busy with college," you sincerely apologized, letting him envelop you in a hug that took you by surprise.

"I'm glad to see you"

"But what was all that about, by the way?"

"What was what?"

"Y/N!" said Matty, rushing over to greet you. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Yeah, I would say that" you clearly noticed the young man's intention to ask the story of that, but as soon as he opened his mouth you said something else: "But will you allow me to talk to him for a second? It's adult talk," you joked, trying to tease your little friend, and then walked a few steps away, taking Spencer with you. "Do you want to explain to me how you became a chess master during my three-day absence?"

"I don't... I don't know what you're talking about"

"I saw that! You beat him so fast and Matt is very good. Have you been letting me win all this time?” you asked with a frown. You didn't sound annoyed with him, but rather surprised, and when he pursed his lips and looked at you with those sad little eyes, you knew you were right “You were lying to me! Why did you do that?”

"I didn’t want to make you feel bad"

“I'm an adult, I can handle failure” you argued. A lie, but he didn't have to know that.

“It's just that you… you looked so happy winning and I was happy to spend time with you and I figured if I played like that you'd start to get bored or think I'm a show-off. You didn't want to make a bad impression."

He had been cheating on you, yes, but now that he had explained his reasons, you thought they were really cute. Although you didn't like being treated with that kind of condescension, it would honestly have been foolish to bother you about something like that. They were just friendly games of chess, not a world championship.

"So all this time you were this clever?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly “And you still managed to lose?”

“It's easy once you get the hang of it. If you know all the possible outcomes then you also know where you shouldn't move your pieces."

"I must have looked so stupid all this time"

"No, it's not like that" he hastened to say, while one of his hands went up to your elbow and gently held it "I didn't behave like that because I think you're stupid. I think you're very smart, actually."

"So you were just pretending so we could see each other in the evenings?"

No one had ever done that for you and now you weren't even offended by it anymore, you were, how shall I put it? Touched, perhaps.

"I thought if we didn't play chess there would be no other excuse for it"

A giggle escaped your lips and although at first he thought you were mocking, the truth was the opposite.

 “You don't need to do that for us to be together, I could come to the park and just talk to you. I already told you, I like being with you” you clarified.

You two were silent for a moment and although you were calm Spencer was fiddling with his hands, apparently uncomfortable.

"There's also something else I didn't tell you" you widened your eyes slightly, waiting for him to continue "Actually, I do work for the government, but I work for the FBI in the behavioral analysis unit, that's why sometimes I disappear for so many days or…"

"That's why you know so much murder data" you hastened to say. Suddenly everything clicked together, like pieces in a puzzle "You're not a murderer, you catch murderers!”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to scare you."

"Oh, and it was more convenient to let me think you're a psycho," you said sarcastically and only received another amused and sorry look "Any other secrets you want to share with me, Agent Reid?"

“At the moment I only have that. But the afternoon is young, more things can come up with the passing of the hours”

You both laughed at the joke and Matthew's voice calling you snapped you out of your conversation. The teen demanded an explanation as to why his playmate and former babysitter seemed so trusting of each other, which Spencer probably hadn't explained to him yet.

"I just want to ask you one thing"

"And what is?"

“Play a real game with me. No cheating, no tricks"

"Rematch?" he said, as was already your tradition, and you smiled widely.

You walked back to the table taking his arm and after summarizing a few months of history to Matthew the two of you finally got to play. Spencer beat you in less than 5 minutes, but the satisfaction you felt finding out that he was so smart, as well as handsome, was completely worth your loss.

You only managed to beat him after half a year, because from that moment on Spencer was so distracted by your face that it was hard for him to concentrate on the plays. And when you became his girlfriend, all you had to do was steal a few kisses from him to ensure your victory, which, honestly, didn't bother him in the least.

[poisonlove]

A macchiato, please | j.o

part 1

I'm finally home, wrapped in the familiar atmosphere only my apartment can provide. Tex, my affectionate German Shepherd, is my sole company at the moment.

"Hello, sweetheart," I whisper gently, bending down to pet his head as his tail wags happily, displaying pure joy.

"I know... you're hungry," I confirm with a resigned sigh, heading to the kitchen. I open a can of dog food and mix it carefully with the kibbles.

"Enjoy your meal!" I add with a shy smile as Tex starts to happily devour his food.

I toss the keys onto the table.

I was so tired that I decided to skip my usual nightly routine and went straight to bed. I fall onto the soft mattress, exhausted from the long day.

As I turn on my phone, the screen greets me with a notification that seems like a dream.

Jennaortega has started following you.

A thrill of excitement rushes through me.

"I can't believe it," I whisper to myself with a small smile, feeling as if I've won the lottery of luck.

Curious to know more about her, I access her profile, smiling at her beautiful close-up picture. Her bright, happy eyes convey an infectious vitality.

"Wow, 40 million followers," I thought incredulously. It was like stepping into a whole new world, filled with enthusiastic followers.

I smile as I see numerous comments filled with love and support for Jenna, carefully observing her latest post: she was inside a car, wearing headphones. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips; her brown eyes seem to gaze at me as if wanting to read my soul. Her slightly parted lips, her perfectly falling bangs... her posture so natural by the window told a story of freedom and carefreeness.

I follow her back.

With shyness and anxiety, I open the chat and look at Jenna Ortega's profile picture. "You can do this... just say hi," I murmur to myself, trying to muster some courage.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed the place I manage to write, my fingers trembling slightly. I send the message, feeling my heart race. I exit the chat, letting the adrenaline rush through my veins.

I wait anxiously, heart in my mouth, hoping for a response.

The minutes seem endless as the chat remains on standby. Then, suddenly, the phone emits a sound, indicating a new incoming message. The lit screen shows the name Jenna Ortega and a short but kind message: Hi! Yes, I really enjoyed the place, the atmosphere was truly cozy. Thanks!

A spontaneous smile spreads across my face. Is there something you're particularly passionate about? I write, hoping to make the conversation deeper and more interesting.

Jenna's response comes quickly: Mmmh... why this random question?

I nervously bite my lower lip. I don't know, I'd love to know something about you that the internet can't tell me I write honestly.

I involuntarily smile as Jenna puts a heart on my message. "In that case... I love art and culture, so I enjoy visiting museums and art galleries. And also nature, taking long walks in parks."

I feel an immediate connection, as I also loved long walks, especially with Tex, my loyal four-legged companion.

I decide to share this detail:

I also love taking long walks, especially with Tex, my German Shepherd. He's my faithful adventure companion!

Jenna seems to like the bond with the four-legged friend, and the conversation continues on this topic. We've found a common ground that makes the conversation more authentic and enjoyable.

How about we have a call? she suddenly asks.

I feel a thrill of excitement at the opportunity to hear her voice and get to know each other better.

I reply: I'd love to.

A few seconds later, Jenna's profile picture, a white light, appears.

I swallow and, sighing, I accept the call.

"Hey!" My voice trembles slightly, nervous.

Jenna softly laughs, making my heart beat uncontrollably.

"Hello," Jenna responds.

I can sense the smile she's wearing.

"How are you?" I ask and close my eyes at such a basic question.

"Good... just a bit tired," she comments shyly, letting out a small yawn.

My eyes glance at the alarm clock next to my bed, seeing that it's only 10:08 PM.

"Maybe... we talk tomorrow?" I ask worriedly, biting my lower lip.

My heart hammers rapidly in my chest.

"No... I enjoy talking to you," she confesses, and my cheeks flush.

I sigh in relief knowing she couldn't see my blush and smile widely, almost feeling a pain in my cheeks.

"Oh, well... I can say the same," I reply.

Jenna gently laughs, making me smile even more.

"Do you have any interviews tomorrow? Or have the recordings already started?" I ask curiously.

"Mmmh," Jenna murmurs, thoughtful, "I think we're meeting with Tim," she says almost hesitantly.

"Right, it's not certain they're shooting here," I murmur almost sadly.

"I have no idea... but it's very likely," she admits weakly.

An not uncomfortable silence envelops us.

"And tell me... you said you'd be meeting. Who's with you?" I ask with curiosity, clutching the sheets out of nervousness.

"Oh... let me think," Jenna murmurs, "I believe it's Percy and Emma," she admits.

"Emma?" I ask excitedly. "Enid?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"Yes..." she laughs softly at my enthusiasm.

"Do you know I ship them in Wednesday ?" I say excitedly. "Enid and wdenesday are so close and adorable!" I exclaim happily.

Jenna bursts into laughter.

"Maybe it'll be canon... who knows," she says in a sing-song tone.

"Come to think of it..." she begins. "Maybe one day I could introduce you to the cast," she proposes, and I open my mouth in surprise.

"You're not joking... really?" I ask, and she gently laughs at my excitement.

"Seriously, let's say it's a way to pay you back for the coffee," she murmurs, yawning.

My excitement grows as I talk about my passions, the books I love to read, and the places I like to visit in the city. But then, I notice Jenna murmuring timidly, almost incomprehensibly, not responding.

"Jenna, everything okay?" I ask worriedly, sensing something off in the air.

"Mmmh," Jenna responds even more timidly, as if wanting to hide something.

"Did you see the new movie talk to me?" I ask absentmindedly, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. "It was strange... I feel sorry for the guy, his face got messed up... but the ending... wow," I murmur absentmindedly, hoping to liven up the conversation.

I notice Jenna getting quieter and quieter, and worry grows inside me. "Am I... boring you?" I ask uncertainly, fearing I've made the conversation dull or tiresome for her.

"No," Jenna barely manages to respond, her voice weak and tired.

"I like your voice... keep going..." she affirms with a yawn, trying to encourage me to talk, but it's evident that fatigue is taking over.

Confused, I stutter in my thoughts, "What was I saying?" My mind is a bit foggy, and the fear of having bored her grows.

Jenna's steady breath makes me realize she has fallen asleep. I smile tenderly, knowing it's been a long day for her. Unfortunately, it's clear that tiredness has taken the lead, and I realize it's best to let her rest.

I gaze at the ceiling of my room, smiling.

"Goodnight, Jen," I whisper with a small smile, feeling the breath of the girl on the other end.

[comicaurora]

Out of curiosity, how far ahead are you on the comic? I mean, you must have it all planned and written out, but I imagine that you are drawing the future of Aurora even while we're reading it.

So is Arc 2 already illustrated and ready for upload while you're on like Arc 5 or something? I'm by no means undermining your need for a break; I'm shocked that you've been uploading continuously for over 4 years at this point. I'm just interested to know how long it takes a person to make something this great. And also if you change any details in the final edit?

Basically: what's the workflow like?

Also I think you low-key inspired me to pick up painting as a hobby. I'm ready to pour so much money into creating things that I know I'll hate. :)

God, arc 5? That's a very generous assessment of how fast I can draw!

Typically, when the comic is updating regularly, I keep a buffer of 10 to 20 completed pages. Right now, in the interest of taking a break, the buffer is 0 completed pages.

Chapter 1 of Arc 2 is completely storyboarded, meaning it's sketched out, the dialog is all mostly finalized barring last-minute rephrasements, etc. It can be read in its current form, it just looks unpretty. In fact, just for fun, here's a sneak peek!

In the next month I'll go through and finalize as many pages from this chapter as possible - which means locking down the panel borders, fleshing out the backgrounds, lining, shading, coloring, polish, etc. - which will be the process of building up a new buffer for when the comic starts back up again in January. During that time, I'll also be storyboarding Chapter 2 and as much of the following parts as I can manage.

I have the next several chapters and sub-arcs planned out in loose timelines - event A happens at location B leading to consequences C and D, stuff like that. Chapter 2, being the closest, is a little more fleshed-out, with a more detailed bullet-pointed timeline and various character ideas I've had that might or might not make it into the final version.

What exactly the chapter breakdown is going to look like is a little more complicated. Initially I'd planned for Chapter 1 to be low-stakes downtime and Chapter 2 to quickly kick off the high-octane adventure again, but when I started bullet-pointing out the stuff I wanted to do in Chapter 2, I ended up with a big pile of slower-paced character moments I thought were well worth exploring, so the runtimes might stretch a little.

Translating those brainstormed notes into storyboards and dialog is what I would classify as the "writing" part of this process. It happens at an erratic pace largely determined by the whims of whatever muse decides to get me in a headlock that day; sometimes I go weeks with no storyboarding progress, sometimes I hammer out fifteen pages in one day.

It's kinda like weaving, to me. The soon-to-be-arriving parts of the story are the most finalized, the most densely woven. A little ways beyond that, things get looser - some patterns may be locked down, but the actual work that'll hold it together hasn't been done yet. And in the far-flung future arcs, it's just the basic bones of the story and a pile of the threads I've planned to use. I know the shape of it, but in order for it to be fun and engaging for me to make it, I need to give myself room to be creative when I'm putting the whole thing together.

I actually have a file called the "Toolbox" that contains every random character or subplot idea I've had, and sometimes when I'm debating where to go with a chunk of story, I'll crack it open and scan through to see if anything jumps out begging to be used. Lotta fun stuff in there that may or may not ever see the light of day. Dropping stuff in the Toolbox is one of the most fun and freeing parts of the process for me!

[witchygirlgray333]

Journal prompts / ideas

Poems (either ones you've written or just ones you enjoy or connect with)

Book review

Film review

Write about your day

Collage

Vision board

Habit tracker

Calendar page

Notes from something you're learning

Quotes you like

Draw some outfits you like

Search up creative writing prompts and do those

Meditate and write down your thoughts before / during / after (I don't do this everytime or sometimes I'll only write afterwards but when I write before, during and after it's always really interesting to read back on and see how much has changed)

Stickerbomb page

Films to watch

Books to read

Wishlist

Bucket list

Highlight of the day (I like to have a page in my journal where I write a short sentence of my favourite thing that happened that day, it's nice to look back on and it's nice especially for days when I'm not feeling well enough to do a longer entry)

Gratitude list

Random thoughts

Drawings and sketches (I'm not even good at drawing but I love drawing or sketching in my journals and just expressing myself)

This one is more for chronically ill people but making notes for doctor / hospital appointments which helps so much! I have severe memory loss so a lot of the time I'll turn up to an appointment and have totally forgotten about anything I'd hoped to say so this has been a total lifesaver

Along with what I said in my last point about living with severe memory loss my whole journal works towards helping me deal with living with the memory loss. I'll probably do another post soon about more in depth ideas for journaling to help life with memory loss but I write down SO MUCH. I've got to do lists, a calendar page, my night routine (I'll also have my morning routine written down once I've actually worked one out!), things I need to do everyday (such as brushing my teeth, washing my face etc), contact info for people I'm close to, labelled photos of my loved ones (it can be really scary when I don't recognise people so having these pages really help), a list of things I can do throughout the day (I'm on bedrest but having a list of things that I enjoy doing written down is a nice reminder, some of the things on the list at the moment are make tiktok videos, do makeup, watch a movie or tv show, journal, scrapbook etc)

[mortemtheraven]

Fire and Rain

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x GN!Reader

Summary: When the Rave'n became the talk of the town, you were more than ecstatic to be asked by your best friend aka long time crush, Ajax with him as his partner. But things took a different turn when you saw him more interested in Enid Sinclair than his own date.

Warning(s): Angst (fluff in the end)

"This school is getting on my nerves," You ranted to Ajax while hanging out in the quad. "All everyone's talking about is the upcoming Rave'n!"

"No one's asked you yet?" Ajax chuckled.

You rolled your eyes. "As if I care. I'm not going anyway."

Ajax turned to face you abruptly. "You're not?"

"Nope, I'd rather study alone in my dorm." No matter how bad it sounds, it's better than going to the Rave'n with a random person that's not Ajax. Yes, you like him for a long time now, but he's too oblivious to notice. Suppose it comes with liking a cute but an absolute idiot of a gorgon.

"Geez, Y/n. Aren't you smart enough? Enjoy life for once."

You clicked your tongue. "One can never be smart enough, Ajax. And I enjoy studying, or maybe I could find a good book and read while you guys dance the night away."

"You're such a bummer, Y/n." You rolled your eyes. Maybe I wouldn't be if you would just ask me, idiot. You thought.

"So, how's that date with Enid?" You asked, clearing your throat. He told you before that he asked Enid out after she snapped at him. As much as it hurts on your part, it's not like you could do anything about it.

"Oh, uh," Ajax laughed awkwardly. "It never happened. I k-kinda stoned myself accidentally and she assumed I stood her up."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"Stop it, Y/n. It's already embarrassing that she already has a date to the Rave'n." he pouted.

"Sorry, it's just a little funny. By the way, I still have to return the book I borrowed. See ya later!" You stood up, still laughing a little and went to the library.

Later that night, you were answering some of your homeworks when someone knocked on your door. Your siren roommate left awhile ago so you had to open the door yourself, grumbling because of the interruption of your study session. But all your complaints immediately vanished at the sight of Ajax standing outside your door with his hands buried in his hoodie's pockets.

"Ajax! What brings you here?" You asked in surprise. It's already 9 PM after all.

"I'm not gonna be long. I just wanna ask you–" he sighed and scratched his nape awkwardly. "W-Would you like to go to the Rave'n with me tomorrow, Y/n?"

You were too stunned to reply immediately, but when you finally processed the sudden information, you practically beamed. "Yes! Yes, of course."

Ajax smiled, his smile basically radiating making you swoon internally. "Great! See you tomorrow, Y/n. Goodnight."

"Night!" You jumped on the balls of your feet, giddy and grinning widely while Ajax turned around to leave, muttering a silent yes.

The time of the Rave'n came, you're already dressed up in white according to the chosen theme. By the end of the night, you hoped everything goes according to your plan. Confess, be Ajax's (s/o), and finally have your wish come true.

Someone knocked on your door and you immediately opened it to reveal Ajax in a white beanie, blazer and slacks. Gosh, he's amazing. You thought, drinking in his appearance.

"Hi," Ajax greeted, grinning widely.

"Hi," You replied, practically forcing yourself not to act all stupid and giddy in front of him.

"You look amazing, Y/n." You blushed at his simple compliment.

"Thanks, you look nice too." You silently scolded yourself for using the word ‘nice’ to describe him. He's way above that.

Ajax chuckled and offered his arm. "So, shall we?"

You ducked your head to hide your red face and clung to his arm. He smells great, you thought. Shut up, Y/n.

It didn't take long for the two of you to arrive at the venue, Ms. Thornhill greeting you by the entrance. You only smiled timidly at her and anxiously looked around. Ajax noticed how you tightened your grip on his elbow.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright. I'm not leaving your side. We're gonna have a blast." Your heart fluttered at his words. He knows you so well, how bad you get when you're in a big crowd, especially when you're conspicuously noticable in your stunning look. People are starting to look at you in surprise, not believing the once plain-looking Y/n bloomed into a beauteous flower.

"Shall we find a seat?" You nodded at Ajax, happy that his mere presence is enough to distract you from the stares you're getting.

"Don't mind them, Y/n. They're just staring at you because you startled them. You look great after all." You smiled at Ajax's words after he guided you to an empty chair, blushing at his gestures.

"Thanks, I'm not really used to compliments."

"Well, you'll be getting them more and more from now on." Ajax grinned cheekily.

Minutes later, you were anxiously tapping on your lap. Why hasn't Ajax asked you to dance yet? What's he waiting for? The two of you are just sitting silently on your table, watching as the other partners take the floor.

And then you saw it. You noticed Ajax staring unblinkingly at something. . . or perhaps someone. You followed his gaze and spotted Enid with her normie date. Of course, you thought bitterly. He only asked you to be his date because he can't have her.

The fact hurts more than it should. You couldn't help it, the sight of Ajax jealous of Enid's date is much more painful than him not asking you to dance. So you stood up, chair scraping loudly against the floor and finally getting his attention.

"Y/n?" You ignored him and began to walk away. "Where are you going?"

You turned to face him with tears threatening to fall from your angry eyes. "Out of here. I'm done being an option to you, Ajax."

With that, you turned around and finally walked out of that place.

"Y/n! Wait up!" You cursed, why couldn't he just leave you alone?

"Leave me alone, Ajax," You grumbled, walking faster. "Go back to Enid!"

"We should at least talk about this!"

You finally turned around angrily, him stopping a few feet away from you. "There's nothing to talk about, Ajax. I get it, okay?! You asked me to be your date because you can't ask her. I'm so stupid to just notice it now!"

"It's not like that–" You cut him off.

"Yes, it is! Don't even deny it! I was just an option to you. I have done everything for you to notice that I shouldn't even be a choice! I've been with you since you transferred to Nevermore! Helping you through and with everything you're having problems with! Yet all I receive in return is rejection and pain from you!"

"What do you mean rejection?" You literally facepalmed at this point.

"Ajax, wake up for once! I love you! And you don't even notice it, not even once. You're always pining over different girls, any girl but me! Am I not enough for you?" You pointed at yourself, hot tears spilling from your eyes.

"Y/n, no–"

"Then why haven't you looked at me in a different light?! I'm always your best friend, only your best friend—nothing more. . ." You wiped your tears angrily. "And I'm done, Ajax. I'm done trying, you already exhausted my patience and hope that you'd ever love me back the way I want you to. So have a blast, Ajax, go back to the Rave'n and ask her out."

You turned to leave once more but a tight hand gripped your wrist and pushed you against a parked car. Ajax was breathing heavily, looking at you with a foreign look on his face. Mostly annoyance.

"Will you let me finish my sentence for once?! I'm sorry, okay?! I should've noticed it earlier, but I'm a gorgon and I'm mostly oblivious about things. If only you've cleared things up with words instead of confusing signals, I should've kissed you long ago!"

Your eyes widened, heart thumping nervously against your chest. "W-What?"

Ajax stared at you through his eyelashes. "Yes, Y/n. I do feel the same way if not much more. But you keep hinting stuff at me and then act casually after, I couldn't help but think that maybe you just want us to stay as friends. I like you a lot, and labeling us as best friends doesn't really make me feel better so I try to distract myself with other girls except you. But I couldn't. Enid is a good friend and when she said she's going with someone else, I couldn't help but feel slightly offended."

You raised your eyebrow. "And that means?"

"Yes, I am an idiot. But then Enid said that I should just man up and ask you, so I did. I actually hoped I would be able to confess to you after the dance, but not like this. Not outside in the freaking parking lot."

"But why didn't you ask me to dance? You just kept on staring at her." Ajax's eyes softened.

"Because I thought you hated dancing, you mentioned it once during detention with me. As for Enid, she was secretly giving me to-go signals." Ajax mumbled in embarrassment, his face turning red.

Your chest hurt at how fast your heart is beating at the moment, you wondered if he could hear it pounding loudly. "You really mean that?"

Ajax chuckled at your big, glistening (e/c) eyes. "Yes, Y/n. With all sincerity I could muster."

"You're really not just saying all that because you feel bad–" Ajax cut you off by crashing his lips on yours.

A bold move. . . but you loved it anyway. So you kissed back, moving your hands to the back of his neck whilst he pulled you closer by the waist. You couldn't believe what was happening, especially when he started pushing you against a parked car slightly, leading into a full-blown make out and yet his hold on you still gentle and careful.

"I do like you, Y/n. Love you even, for everything you are. Y-Your snarky wits, the way you're not afraid to snap at people who makes fun of me for being a dork sometimes, the way you prefer to study alone in your dorm rather than go to parties, the way you smile at me and just–" Ajax sighed dreamily. "Everything about you basically."

You cradled his cheek, smiling and genuinely touched at his rambling. "You're lucky you're cute, so I forgive you." You said in a joking manner and he laughed, kissing you again as though he could never get enough of you.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

A more detailed response is under the cut if you're interested/want to know what prompted this random ass post:

Just wanted to make a few things clear after I received this anon:

And that anon won't see this post unless they access my page from a different account because - you guessed it! - I blocked them. I have zero issues blocking people, but I don't do it without reason. (This is also assuming your blog doesn't look like a straight up bot, which I automatically block.) If you don't want to run the risk of being blocked by me, it's actually pretty simple:

Don't have shitty takes - like equating kinks to p3d0philia. If I had to guess, I'd say about 90% of my block list is people who have supported or run rampant with some bullshit kink=pedo narrative. This in particular is something I take issue with on a very deep level and will almost always block people over.

Don't steal people's work and/or pass it off as your own (this also includes "transforming" someone's original work without their express permission).

Don't engage with AI chatbots; I think they're weird, inherently devalue the work of human creators, and create a "content farm" mentality to fandom that fucking blows chunks. There have also been SO MANY instances of some asshole feeding a fic into a chatbot without permission that I don't think anyone can really engage with them without the probability that it involves to some degree a stolen work. If using chatbots is more important than avoiding something that has many times over negatively impacted a fic writer, then I don't think you deserve to read fic tbh.

Don't go around being a disingenuous, opportunistic asshole aka I have seen your username pop up several times piling onto whatever the drama of the week is. It's giving parasite. It's giving acting in bad faith. It's giving I need attention on the internet. It's giving clout chaser and trying to gain followers by riding the coattails of drama.

If any of those reasons/explanations seem extreme or over the top to you, you might want to reevaluate how you interact with creators on here. There's a reason why so many have been leaving the space entirely. Some have taken their works to AO3 because of the plagiarism issues or morality police brigading their page and asks (almost always on anon ofc). Some have decided to take down their blogs altogether because it's not worth it anymore.

There's a give and a take with fandom, and so many have lost the fucking plot. I'm not going to spend time, energy, and thought towards my fics just so some random asshole on the internet can try to dictate how and when my work should be used/enjoyed. I'm also not going to let someone who either is a bad person or acts like a bad person would have access to my shit. If you want to be a shitty person, you don't get the luxury of engaging with my blog or my works. Plain and simple. Tbh more people need to call out the bullshit or actively block accounts that do these things because it has created a really tiresome, hostile space.

I owe you nothing, anon, and I make zero apologies for curating my space and experience on this site. If I blocked you, it was for a reason.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[amethystfairy1]

✨Hello hello!✨

I'm Amethyst (she/her), and I'm your local fanfic gremlin. I've written a lot for a lot of fandoms, right now I am caught in the Hermit/Traffic/Empires brainrot, and if that's how you've ended up here, welcome welcome!

The tag for my random blog stuff is: #amethyst rambles

And I also always post here whenever I post on A03, be it with a new chapter or an entirely new story! #amethyst updates

Right now, I have two WIP AUs!

Through the Sky-Blue Cracks 🌤️

My Hot Guy/Cute Guy, Over-City/Under-City AU that has a lot more going on in it now, it's grown pretty big and is organized in chronological order, not by publishing order, so I write up and down on the timeline filling in parts and pieces as I go!

TTSBC takes place in a modern/slightly sci-fi AU with superheroes, biotech, secrets to hide, trauma to unpack, and as much humor as I can attempt to fit in as well!

Features the local superheroes crushing on each other, anxious writer meets intrepid reporter, the drama professors who can't keep their hands to themselves, penpals gone wild, resident middle-aged married couple who happen to be a mobster and a mad genius, the local cottagecore lesbians, bad boy butterfly and cat lady, protective big sister, Zom-Mom and Sentient Glowstick, a very tired Guy-in-the-Chair with a permanent headache, and more yet to be added! I've got lots of plans left for this AU, so if you're interested, please come check it out!

Tags for the AU are:

#through the sky blue cracks

#ttsbc au

#ttsbc ficlets

Traveling Thieves 🪽

My dark fantasy AU! This one has some heavy themes going on, so I'd encourage reading the tags carefully before jumping in! I'm very proud of how it is turning out, dealing with breaking out conditioned headspaces, survival in a sick system, negotiating power imbalance, the power of friendship (no, really), and of course we've got elves, mercenaries, magic, swords, sorcery, rogues, redstone, and lots more fun stuff like that! Also lots of adorable birbs, one traumatized fiery boy, a mer with an attitude, a good doggo, and hurt/comfort galore! Giving everyone a chance to believe that they've all got a shot at getting lucky.

Tags for the AU are:

#traveling thieves au

#traveling thieves ficlets

Amethysts Scribbling Corner 📝

A little side project of mine to try and stretch my writing style!

My prompt requests are always open! I do not promise to fulfill anything, nor do I promise to fulfill anything within a reasonable time frame, BUT if you have any sort of thoughts/requests/recommendations I absolutely love to hear them and engage with them!

They can be as broad as a simple one-word prompt, or you can even give a brief description of a couple of sentences!

Feel free to request where you want the fic to take place, too! Especially when we're talking Hermit/Traffic/Empires stuff, if you want it to be within the Minecraft server world of that specific series, within a certain one of the Life Series, a modern AU, a fantasy AU...or even TTSBC or Traveling Thieves if you have ideas for them!

Just know that if anything requested for TTSBC or Traveling Thieves contradicts or maybe overlaps with any future plans for those AUs, I might not be able to accept them 😓

As far as rules go...I do not write NSFW. I am happy to write romance and let things get a little spicy 🔥 but keep in mind I'll always end up fading to black...also no heavy gore, body horror, things of that nature. I am very much a fan of writing whump and hurt/comfort though, so please send those ideas my way!

When I need some inspiration I dip into the request bin, and I keep all the requests I receive stored for future reference!

Tags for the series are:

#amethysts scribbling corner

I think that's all that going on with me right now...so yeah! I use this blog for my scribbling corner prompts as well as asks about any of my AUs or writing projects! I love getting the chance to ramble about my worldbuilding, so by all means, give me an excuse and I will make entire posts about that sort of thing!

My DMs are open and I promise I'm not scary! I love rambling and making fandom friends, so feel free to reach out if you wanna chat!

Thanks for coming by! 💖

[iddybiddysquish]

I Regret Request: Aizawa x Yamada x Reader

Masterlist: Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Gender: AFAB

Warnings: Student x teacher! Oral (fem receiving), fingering, toys, anal penetration, marking, A/B/O quirk, arousal quirk, anal play, ass eating, oral sex, anal sex, creampie and sir kink - not good with terminology to let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Feedback is welcomed and I hope you have a good time reading! This is quite self indulgent and my first time writing smut so be gentle with me pls <3 Reader has the ability to copy and edit quirks! Not beta read, we die like men.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I regret everything.' I whined as I laid in my bed, thighs heavy with slick as I came for the 12th time that morning. It has only been an hour or so since I'd awoken to an aching need in my cunt that was impossible to ignore and a fever so hot that I was starting to see stars. 

I was exhausted and yet nowhere near satisfied. I knew I was going to need to call in sick with how painful this arousal is. 

It took me a while to figure out what the cause was. At first I thought I'd been hit with an arousal quirk in my sleep, as impossible as that is. However the more I looked into the quirks I'd copied at random that took my interest, I discovered something that I didn't know when I copied the quirks. 

Quirk: A/B/O

This quirk gives the user characteristics of the A/B/O genre, including giving them a second gender. This gives them claws and fangs that can retract as well as basics such as enhanced senses and physiological changes such as scent glands and enhanced animalistic thinking. 

Quirk: Estrus

This quirk gives the user the ability to cast uncontrollable arousal in individuals who are touched or are within a 5 m distance. 

Apparently, this included heat and rut cycles as well as an estrus cycle, the latter of which is experienced because of the quirk with the same name - side effects of both quirks. It's not helped by the fact that I was weeping out of every hole - even my ass now had a uterus and there was a third uterus with a vaginal opening between my anus and normal vagina, both with slick pouring out of them, like male Omega’s get in the Omegaverse and it was killing me. Three vaginas was too much to contend with when all I had were handheld toys at my disposal.

'I don't have enough hands for this shit.'

What made things worse was that I was capable of experiencing a mating season as well as a heat or a rut despite not being an Alpha, which confused me. I was clearly an Omega - even having the male equivalent of uteruses.

To cum more readily I even activated a quirk that gave me both male and female genitalia but the friction, despite my slick, was starting to hurt my sensitive head and thick knot that had formed from my last orgasm, and I was nowhere near feeling satisfied. So I deactivated it and wiped my hands clean before searching for my phone with disdain.

I am irritable and whiny all whilst pining for an Alpha to be submissive towards. It's a weird concoction that I wasn't appreciating as I laid in what I now realised was a nest of blankets and pillows I'd created to house myself as I cried from over and under stimulation.

Everything was made worse by the fact that I had no clue how long this would last.

‘Is this monthly or annually?’ 

The more I looked into this quirk the worse I felt, especially as I discovered I would have an annual mating season, would go into heat monthly, would go into estrus biweekly and would go in a rut whenever someone else experienced either one of these phenomena - so I could experience all of these at once, as I was, on top of an estrus cycle that corresponds with my menstrual cycle. I would’ve breathed a sigh of relief if I didn’t remember that there are many other people who would go through heat, estrus and or mating season, meaning I would be triggered into a rut by these and could even be triggered just by using the Estrus quirk.

‘I blame Tokoyami’s mating season…!’ I groaned, ‘Then at least it would just be a heat, estrus and a mating season…’

I wanted to cry.

“I can’t take this any more.” I moaned, deciding quickly I needed to call the school and explain what was going on. I needed help with this; there must be someone with a similar quirk that they’ve known about. After all, I copied these things from someone else.

Much to my surprise, when I explained to the receptionist I needed to speak to Aizawa, I was passed to him relatively quickly.

“(L/N)-san.” he greeted, “Are you unwell?”

“Something like that.” I groaned, crossing my legs tightly, “I’m in a very… difficult situation and I need some guidance.”

“I can help you in class if you want?” he begged, “If you get here sooner we can discuss it before class.”

“I… I don’t know if I can come to class.” I basically whispered. Aizawa frowned at this on the other side of the line with concern.

“Should I be concerned, (L/N)-san?” I sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you tell me the problem first?” he begged, walking down the hallway to get away from people, realising quickly that this was a private conversation, “Then I can tailor my aid better.” I groaned.

“This is going to be super awkward, so I’m sorry.” I warned, earning a grunt which sent a painful zap towards my clit, making me flush, “I copied a quirk.”

“Uh-huh…” he nodded when I didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“It’s given me a clusterfuck of hormones.” I explained slowly, “I’m essentially experiencing a mating season, a heat and a rut simultaneously as well as an estrus cycle - they are different. And I’m a bit scared.”

“... I wasn’t expecting that.” he admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I assume you’re in halls?” I nodded.

“Yeah.” I laughed humorlessly, “I know, right? I only discovered this would happen today because it’s happening now.

“I didn’t think to look at the weaknesses when I copied the quirk. It just seemed so interesting I couldn’t pass it up. Even if I edit the quirks I can't get rid of what I'm experiencing right now.”

“Stay in the halls.” he confirmed, “I’ll do some research and see what strings I can pull. You won’t be the first to experience either one of those things and I doubt you’ll be the last.

“For now, remain in your room. I’ll explain to the class that you’re having some… complications with your quirk and not to visit you.” he hummed, looking over at the watch on his wrist, “I’ll try to contact you by the end of the day and recommend you stockpile some food whilst the others are gone.” I nodded.

“Thanks sensei. I appreciate it.” he nodded.

“I’ll talk to you later. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

And just like that I breathed a sigh of relief and laid back down, hand drifting down to my painfully empty holes and clit, only to come away with heavy slick dripping from my fingers. I groaned, pulling my head into a pillow and screaming for a few minutes before going back to playing with myself, unable to hold on for much longer without some kind of stimulation.

To say that Aizawa was concerned was an understatement. One of his prized students was suffering as he walked towards the classroom pondering the best course of action. The reality was that he knew she needed relief but he also knew that he was her teacher and shouldn't approach her. He'd be abusing the situation and his position. 

Didn't mean he wasn't still tempted to pay her a visit to see her for himself. 

Her quirk had always fascinated him. The ability to copy other quirks wasn't necessarily unusual nor was it unsurprisingly powerful. But it was how she used it to her advantage that impressed him. She thought outside the box and adapted to new quirks so effortlessly that he couldn't help but be in awe. 

In all honesty it all went right to his cock. 

'Not now…' he cursed, shuffling his pants around to hide the growing chub before entering the classroom with the same enthusiasm as he did every morning.

“Good morning, students.” Aizawa greeted, catching everyone off guard, Denki and Kirishima running to their seats as soon as he entered the room.

“You’re here early, sir?” Yaoyorozu spoke up, raising her arm. Aizawa nodded.

“I have an announcement.” he confirmed, “As you know, Tokoyami is still off. However (L/N)-san is having some complications with her quirk.

“As a result it would be wise for you all to leave her be in her room and don’t communicate with her until it resolves. It’s likely to last for at least a week.”

“So we won’t see her at all?” Ashido begged, earning the shake of a head.

“But what about food?” Hagakure begged, “(L/N)-san eats a lot.” Aizawa removed some of his hair from his face, thinking about the response, before answering.

“We might need to ask one of you to deliver the food to her door.” he concluded with distaste, “It’s not ideal but it’s imperative that all of you leave her alone. It might be best to have one of the girls to deliver the meals…” he sighed, fingers to the bridge of his nose, “Although that might not help.”

“Is she well?” Uraraka begged, concerned. Aizawa nodded.

“She’s not sick. It’s just something related to her quirk.”

“Why do they have to be female?” Iida begged, raising his arm. Aizawa groaned.

“It’s not necessary. But it would be best that all the men stay away from her door.”

“Why?” Kirishima begged, “What would require only the men to stay away?”

“Is it the same reason as Tokoyami?” Asui begged, raising her hand before Aizawa could respond. He sighed.

“Wait, why is Tokoyami away?” Midoriya begged her way.

“Mating season.” Asui noted casually with a shrug. 

"Oh hell yeah!" Mineta cheered, causing Sero to cringe. 

"You are banned from that floor, Mineta." Aizawa warned, his hair flying all over the place as he glared, earning a gulp from the boy. His words caused everyone to turn back to Aizawa, who was rubbing his temples.

“It’s a private matter. That’s all you need to know.” Bakugou raised a brow at this.

“So who’s gonna feed her?” he begged with a glare. Immediately everyone turned to Bakugou, causing his brow to twitch violently, “Why me?!”

“You love cooking.” Todoroki stated as though it were obvious. Shinsou snorted and Bakugou ‘tched’ and looked away sharply, glaring ahead of him as Aizawa looked at his watch again before divulging into the remaining announcements, none of which really kept Aizawa's attention. 

He concluded he needed to speak to his friend and coworker about this issue. (L/N)'s recklessness was beginning to worry him and he knew he would need to be careful when he mentioned this to Yamada. 

Aizawa wasn't the only person to be almost infatuated with the girl. She was arguably Yamada's favourite student. She was studious, curious and, to top it off, she was attractive. 

'Not now…' he cursed to himself as he left the classroom to wait for his friend to turn up for English class. In his mind this issue couldn't wait. He was tapping his thigh as he contemplated the position (L/N) was in, writhing in desire without him there to help. 

It was becoming a common thought and problem for his trousers to contain. 

"Yo!" Yamada grinned, throwing finger guns at Aizawa. For once Aizawa seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, even if it was to help distract from his ever growing erection. 

"We need to talk." Yamada blinked, smile faltering as he took in Aizawa's appearance. 

He looked as exhausted as usual, but this time there was worry. It was clear as day that he was contemplating something and it worried the blond. Aizawa was antsy as his eyes flickered around to make sure they were alone before his tone dropped. 

"It's about (L/N)." He warned, the topic regaining his attention. 

"Sure thing. What's up, man?" He begged, leaning against the wall casually. 

Yamada attempted to look casual, but deep down he was concerned. (L/N) was rarely in trouble and fairly low maintenance as a student. So it had to be serious for Aizawa to approach him like this and risk making him late for class. 

"She took on a random quirk." Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in disdain, "A Quirk that gave her heat."

Yamada blinked. Once then twice. 

"You don't mean what I think you mean, surely?" Was all he could say, earning a dead eyed look from Aizawa that told him everything he needed to know. He sighed and shook his head, "Right. So she's not in class, right?" Aizawa nodded, "Damn that's a shame. 

"So what's up?"

"I am worried about her." Aizawa admitted, also leaning against the wall opposite the blond. Yamada raised a brow but thought carefully before he spoke. 

"She's alone, right?" Aizawa nodded. 

"Tokoyami is at home." Yamada nodded before rubbing his chin. 

"We should probably pay her a visit." Aizawa raised a brow, causing the blond to raise his hands, "To check on her. Make sure none of the boys get to her." The pair immediately thought of a certain grape-like fellow and simultaneously sighed. 

"Point taken." Aizawa nodded before pushing off the wall. With a grin Yamada did the same before slapping his hand on Aizawa's shoulder. 

"She's strong willed. She should be fine. Worst case scenario she has us to look after her." Aizawa smirked and nodded. 

"Right."

With another nod Aizawa walked away and Yamada made his way to English class. And although they both felt better knowing they had each other's backs, they were still worried deep down. 

In truth both were attracted to the girl. And they knew it was irrational given tshe was their student, even if she was 18 and a legal adult - that was their only rationale they both held onto.  

Neither, however, felt threatened by the other. They had a mutual understanding that both cared for the girl and that if either had a chance, they could take it. But if they hurt her, they'd feel the consequences. 

I waited and waited until I knew the coast was clear. The only other person would’ve been Tokoyami two floors below, but he was staying at home, so for the first time I was on my own in the halls. Despite this, I was nervous to leave the safety of my nest to the point that I waited for far longer than I needed to. 

It just didn’t feel right.

Opening the door I went to walk forward, but found myself freezing in the spot at all the scents.

“Oh… my god.” I reeled, gulping.

It took me a good few minutes just standing there in order to get used to all the smells. Some were pleasant, some were repulsive. 

But others were tasty.

‘The strongest scent is…’ I realised quickly, mouth watering, ‘Bakugou’s…’ 

My scent-clouded mind wasn’t so surprised by this reveal. Bakugou smells like burnt caramel normally, so it’d make sense that I’d be attracted to it. It really was a no-brainer, even if I longed not to be attracted to the interesting scent, just glad that he wasn't here to witness this. It's not like I was actually interested in him beyond his tantalising smell.

The scent that I wasn't expecting to be drawn to, however, was that of Shinsou's. It was soft and tantalising. Like a comfortable cloud. It made me relax and feel like curling up and taking a nap despite my current circumstances.

What was more interesting was the minty freshness that was Todoroki’s scent I could detect from the elevator.

‘It’s almost spicy to the senses.’ I mused, feeling a wave of calmness wash over me.

Again, it didn’t surprise me that I felt myself drifting his way. Todoroki was very attractive and we had been getting closer as of late. It was almost predictable. 

However the scent that was most tantalising, surprisingly, was Aizawa's. It was the faintest since he was rarely here. But it was still there, teasing me and making my mouth water. 

'Does he know he smells that good?'

I had to slap myself to stop myself from following his scent and instead made a beeline for the kitchen and raided my pantry, grabbing every snack and unspoilable food I could before running back to my room. I was as quick as I could feasibly be. But as I went to close the door, I found myself peeking outside and down the hallway towards Aizawa's scent.

I shook my head.

‘I can’t go sneaking around like this.’ I scolded myself as my Omega whined at me, begging to investigate. I shook my head again as I felt my thighs clench and almost whined myself.

“No. I can’t.” But I didn’t move away from the door.

‘... Ugh why does he have to smell like that?!’ I cursed, looking back down the hall. Before I even realised what I was doing, I was sneaking towards the heavenly scent, as though I were about to be caught at any moment. I could feel Aizawa scolding me, but of course it never came since he was in class with everyone else. 

‘This would be so amoral of me…’ 

Despite knowing this, I found myself turning myself invisible as I stalked towards the teachers quarters.

However when I arrived I was smacked in the face with the scent of Yamada. And suddenly I felt my cunt clench as I took in the double scent of the pair that made my mouth water. 

'Lord save me…' I almost moaned as I thought about where I wanted to investigate first. 

'I came here for Aizawa…' I sighed, eyeing Yamada's door. But with only slight hesitation I made my way towards Aizawa's door with a small promise made by my Omega to visit Yamada's soon after. 

I cringed at the squeak as the door opened, checking there was no one else around, but I was quickly blindsided by the absolute raw stench of his scent and felt my Omega trill in happiness.

From there I had zero control of myself as I entered his room and closed the door behind me, sniffing deeply as I attempted to fill my entire lungs with his scent. 

Naturally, his bed smelt the strongest. And I couldn’t stop myself from lying on it and taking a deep breath of his pillow. With little effort I could fall asleep here and God did I want to.

However, I didn’t want to be caught by a cleaner or anything, so I regretfully removed myself from his bedding and skulked around his room with intrigue. 

It was fairly neat and tidy. Everything was neatly packed away - even his dirty clothes were in the hamper, none left in sight. There were a few personables, such as collectables and books. I was drawn to the books, noting that a lot of them were either fiction or textbooks for class, some of which were missing, before looking over the neatness that was his desk with little surprise.

I couldn’t help rummaging through his things as though I were searching for something. But I was careful enough to put everything back exactly as I found it before eyeing the exit with disappointment. 

However I trilled when I realised it wasn't over yet as I had Yamada's room to visit yet. 

‘I need to leave.’ I concluded, anxiously despite feeling safe immersed in his scent. Regardless, I needed to get back and the need to hide was strong.

I couldn’t force myself to leave quickly. I eyed the bed and whined before eyeing his dirty clothing hamper with a dangerous thought in my mind.

‘I can’t.’ I argued as I looked inside, moving things around a bit as I took in his scent further, ‘He’d so notice if I took something of his.’

As if that was the only reason not to steal his clothing like some kind of smell-pervert.

‘Man I’ve really stooped to a new low.’ I concluded as I pawed at a shirt of his that smelt the strongest. Instincts told me I needed it for my nest and no matter how much I tried to rationalise, I found myself stealing the shirt and running back to the hallway, only to freeze when I took in the delicious scent of Yamada. 

Shirt in hand I looked around carefully before skulking towards his room and quietly padding my way inside. I immediately jumped on his slightly messy bed and squealed to myself as I took in his warm scent. 

Both scents were different. Aizawa's was warm, like sandalwood and cedar. It was calming and inviting. Yamada's, on the other hand, was unusual. Partly because of his hair gel, but despite that he smelled sweet and juicy, like citrus. 

I enjoyed the polar scents greedily as I searched his floor for something he wouldn't miss if I took it. Finding a shirt with a hole in the armpit, I shrugged and took it before giving his room one last look over. 

His room was more messy than Aizawa's, though I didn't mind. There were posters and artwork around the room with photos and other personables. It was busy, but inviting. 

I knew I had little time left, so I spent it nosing through his things before leaving and using the invisibility quirk. I needed to leave despite my pouting and whining Omega and more importantly I needed to get back to my room to hide - from everyone and my shame.

I was grateful to Aizawa for warning off the rest of the class now that I’d committed a crime. But the way my Omega praised my decision left me feeling euphoric, especially as I snuggled the shirts and preened the den I’d created.

I spent most of my time preening, snuggling their shirts and masterbating. It was a simple routine as I stored my snacks carefully as though I was creating a proper den to live in. And I supposed I was, given I’d be stuck here for the next however long it would be before I could go back to normal.

When I started to hear the whirl of the elevator and the sounds of people talking that was my first clue that school was over. My next clue was the knock at my door.

"(L/N), it's Midoriya!" He whispered, making me blink and look over at the door. I immediately raised a brow but didn't say anything as I heard him shuffle on his feet, "Just wanted to let you know everyone is thinking of you. Try to hang in there. I'm sure Sensei will help you out!"

'I can think of a few ways he could help me…'

"Midoriya?" I blinked, tilting my head as I took in Todoroki's voice, "What are you doing?"

"J-Just checking something!" He squeaked before I heard his footsteps recede along with Todoroki's as their voices got further away.  

I felt myself swell with happiness even if I found myself growling at the intrusion. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything back though as the pair muttered to one another quietly before going to their individual rooms. I found myself on edge, listening intently to everyone returning to their dorms or going elsewhere as I hid in my nest.

I had no idea how anxiety-inducing it would be now that everyone was back. But now I knew: it’s very anxiety-inducing. 

I managed to fall asleep by burrowing myself with blankets and pillows. However I stirred when I sensed someone outside of my door, hearing them muttering something to themselves.

That’s when I realised it was Aizawa of all people.

I practically leaped out of my nest, thoroughly ruining it, and leaned across the door, taking in a deep breath of his scent. It was then I realised I smelt something else tasty and wondered if he’d made food for me.

My heart and Omega leapt at the thought.

"(L/N)-san." He spoke curtly, "Yamada and I will be delivering your food from now. Eat up."

'For me…?'

I had to claw at myself not to open the door and jump on him. Taking deep breaths I tried to focus on the smell of the food instead of the smell of Aizawa as I listened to his footsteps recede. And only when I was sure he’d retreated did I open the door and take the contents, eating quickly before leaving the bowl outside of the door as he had done.

This continued morning and evening for the next few days and sadly I wasn’t improving despite ordering new toys and other kinky tools to try and earn some relief. I was extremely grateful for Hagakure bringing them to me, oblivious to the contents, although I realised quickly she was hoping he’d get to see me when she knocked on the door. I heard her sit down outside of it as she began telling me about what I’d missed at school. 

It was sweet of her. 

"I had to run so fast for so looooong!" She whined, "How was I supposed to know her quirk? She kicked the crap outta me!" I giggled at this, though I felt immediately upset at the last thing she said, "But don't worry! Recovery Girl patched me right up!" 

I sighed with relief and relaxed again. 

I considered sitting by the door, but I was too desperate for a release, I worried I’d open it and ruin everything. And of all people, as wonderful as Hagakure is, my rational brain and Omega didn't want to have sex with her.

Only Aizawa or Yamada would work. They were my prime Alphas.

So I didn’t and waited for her to leave before taking the box and abusing its contents.

By the time I had finished it was dinner time, and I basically sat glued to the door with blankets on me as I listened for Aizawa or Yamada to arrive. 

The strength of the symptoms seemed to wax instead of wane as time went on and I realised I was starting to really struggle when I heard familiar footsteps coming towards the door. However much to my surprise I detected a second immediately and jumped out of my bed to take in the scent of who was approaching my room, greedily, once I realised who was approaching. 

"She hasn't said a word." Yamada uttered, stretching his arms up towards the air, "I'm worried!"

"She's doing what I told her to. We should be pleased." Aizawa shrugged as the pair got closer and stood outside the door, "Maybe she'll talk soon." Yamada sighed and nodded. 

"So as long as she hasn't spoken to any of the other students I can't complain." Yamada muttered, earning a low chuckle from Aizawa before he knocked on my door. 

"(L/N). Your food is here." 

I immediately began to purr and nuzzle the door, pretending it was them. 

"Alphas…" I muttered. 

However it wasn't the same. I wanted to be closer. I wanted them. 

"(L/N)?" Yamada begged hearing me. He leaned closer to the door and began to hear my purring. He frowned and eyed Aizawa, who raised a brow. 

"Are you okay?" Aizawa begged. I nodded. 

"Better now you're both here." I hummed, still nuzzling the door. 

Neither teacher knew what to make of that. But they both were happy to make her happy if nothing else. 

"How you doing, kid?" Yamada begged, crouching down to my level. Aizawa looked around before doing the same. 

I immediately whined. 

"Horribly." I almost cried as I felt along the door, "Need knot really bad…"

"Knot?" Yamada begged lowly earning a sigh from Aizawa. 

"You know we can't give you that, (L/N)." Aizawa explained, "You're our student."

"So?" I protested.

Yamada quickly realised what the pair were talking about and gulped. The thought hadn't just crossed his mind, but burrowed it's way deep into his brain. He could just imagine how her mouth would taste as he took her. 

He immediately shook his head, earning a raised brow from Aizawa, though he said nothing. 

"Please?" I begged, reaching for the doorknob. When the door clicked as I opened it, the pair sat back and looked in as I peaked my head out, giving my best puppy dog eyes I could muster, "Need you really bad, Sir."

Both men felt that go straight to their cocks, both twinging in their pants. 

The pair could see I was flushed. They didn't need to know the details to know that I'd been cumming all day - the smell of sex was evidence enough. It wasn't helping the predicament in their trousers, unfortunately. Aizawa had a stronger will than Yamada, however, who immediately reached out to cup my cheek. I pouted up at him. 

"You're burning up sweetness." He sighed, "We should get Recovery Girl to look you over." I shook my head. 

"I just need you."

Yamada's will was slowly being chipped away the longer he stared at his pretty girl, cheeks puffed up and body wanting. However Aizawa had more clarity as he stood up with a sigh. 

"I'll get you some paracetamol." He concluded, "Keep her in her room." 

Yamada immediately saluted him and turned back to me. I was pouting. 

"Don't leave me." I whined, opening the door slightly to peak out further as his body began to retreat.

"I won't be long." And with that he headed towards the elevator, leaving the pair of us together. 

With a sigh I sat back down and let the door open fully as I set my eyes on Yamada, who was desperately trying to look anywhere other than my hardened nippled through my shirt or the visible wet patch of my underwear. 

It wasn't an easy task. 

"How you holding up?" He begged as he looked around the room, noting all the blankets and pillows covering the bed and floor. He wasn't sure how she amassed that many but it looked cosy. 

"Desperate." I sighed, tightly holding my arms as I attempted to stop myself from jumping him, "Really need knot. Please, Sir." I begged, slowly unfolding myself and crawling towards him. 

Yamada jumped as I got closer and looked around panicked as though he were about to be caught. He knew this was inappropriate but he couldn't help the erection in his pants that jumped when he got a good look at my cleavage. 

I sashayed up to him, swaying my hips gently as I slowly crawled onto his lap even as he backed up and hit the wall. He gulped when as I put my hands either side of his face and tilted my head, a pleading look in my eyes. 

"I need you, Sir. I'll beg if you want me to."

"Uhh…" he stammered, "(L/N) we shouldn't be doing this-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence when I sat fully on his lap and pressed against his hardened cock, causing him to gasp and lean his head back. I smirked when I felt his hands grasp my hips. 

"We really shouldn't." He muttered with a groan. However when I rocked slowly I felt his hands move to my ass as he moaned. I mewelled as the tip of his cock pressed into my wet clit and couldn't help myself but to rock more readily against him, clawing at his chest and yanking on his shirt. He began to guide me, pulling at my hips and placing my hips in the best place to rock against his cock. 

It was then that the elevator doors opened, revealing an upset looking Aizawa when he caught sight of us. I smiled as he approached. 

"Join us, Alpha." I purred as I stood and pulled Yamada up and into my den. Aizawa blinked and followed, intent on trying to save his friend from my clutches. 

However when he entered and placed the pills on the table he saw that Yamada was already making out with me as I sat atop of him on the bed. 

Aizawa sighed. 

"You'll be in serious trouble if you do this." Aizawa concluded, calmer than he probably should be. Neither Yamada nor I knew which of us he was talking to. But I concluded it was likely both of us. 

I smirked.

"I'm a bad girl?" I begged, pulling away from Yamada as I sat up and moved towards Aizawa, like a predator stalking its prey. 

For once Aizawa felt uncertain as his resolve weakened. He took in my appearance with greedy eyes as Yamada grinned over at him and gave a thumbs up. I pulled Aizawa to me, placing my hands over his chest as I felt him up and leaned close to his lips. 

"Please, Sir? I promise to be good. I'll do whatever you tell me to." 

My words were thick like honey. He felt his cock jump to life again as her hands slowly glided closer and closer to his belt. 

With a sigh he made his choice and headed towards the door, severely disappointing me and confusing Yamada. However, to my relief, all he did was close the door before he grabbed me by the neck and forced his lips onto mine. 

I immediately mewled as Yamada came up from behind and pulled my hair to force my neck to be exposed to him so he could nip and suck at the delicate flesh. I moaned into the kiss as Aizawa felt along my stomach and slipped his fingers into my panties. 

It was no shock to Aizawa that I was practically flooding with slick - they'd seen it through my underwear after all. No, what surprised him was how readily my body was prepared for him as I sucked in his fingers tightly. He almost groaned into the kiss as he slipped in a second finger. 

Yamada's hands, too, began to glide down my body, resting to grope my ass. However he paused when he noticed there was slick coming from my asshole as well and curiously decided to investigate with his finger, still keeping a tight grip on my hair. I moaned as both began to finger me as I let my underwear fall to the floor and rocked against them. 

"Well we don't need any lube." Yamada snorted, earning one from Aizawa. I bit my lip at the prospect of both taking me, wanting to both speed things up and slow it down so I could get to the good parts but also to experience it for a longer period of time. 

When both sets of fingers retreated I whined. 

“No, Sir-”

“Shhh.” Aizawa muttered, shoving his fingers in my mouth. I moaned as I sucked, cleaning them as best as I could with drool escaping from my mouth. Aizawa smirked down at me as he slowly pulled his fingers from my mouth, Yamada grinning behind me.

“Such a good girl for us, huh, (F/N)?” he whispered in my ear. Immediately I nodded. However, when Yamada pulled away from me I whined again. That was, until he climbed on my bed and reached his hand out for me, “Come over here, kid.” he smirked. 

Nodding, I followed his orders as Aizawa started to unbuckle his belt. Yamada then commanded me to get on all fours, so I did as requested, raising my ass into the air and face into the bed. To my surprise, however, he didn’t touch his belt. Aizawa, now naked, came onto the bed in front of me and watched as Yamada began to rub my ass and play with my slick that was leaking onto my thighs. 

It wasn’t long before he dived into my folds, eating me out with vigour, making me squeal. Aizawa chuckled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to moan out loud for them as he stroked himself. Before I realised what was happening Yamada began to move up past my taint and towards my ass, tonguing it. Aizawa took advantage of my open mouth and slowly shoved his cock in, making me groan. As Yamada encouraged me to buck as I hollowed out my cheeks and took Aizawa's full size down my throat, making me choke. He lovingly stroked my hair as he forced himself down my throat again with the same result. 

"Such a good girl." He muttered. Hearing the praise, Yamada broke free from his feast and slapped my ass hard. 

"Does she deserve a little treat?" He begged, wiping his mouth where all the slick had built up. Aizawa grunted as I attempted to take his cock down my throat right to the base but ended up choking again. Still he stroked my throat as I did, watching as tears slid down my cheeks. 

"I'll take that as a yes." Yamada chuckled, going back to eating my ass. However, he introduced his fingers, slipping two effortlessly into my aching cunt and using his thumb to play with my clit. On top of that he began to penetrate my asshole with his tongue, which added a whole different level of pleasure. 

Aizawa immediately chuckled as I moaned through his cock. He couldn't lie, the dirty noises that I strangled to make because of what Yamada was doing was a huge turn on. He never thought about having a threesome with the man but he was having a good time. 

Yamada on the other hand had always been more open to these sorts of ideas. Especially with his friend. And even more so with his favourite student. This was the sort of thing he fantasised about, albeit maybe not with Aizawa but he was happy with it nonetheless. 

As Yamada ate me out I continued my ministrations on Aizawa, using my hand to massage and grope his balls gently, earning a pleased groan, which made Yamada chuckle. It was enough to get Aizawa to begin lazily bucking into my mouth. Eventually he started to slowly pick up the pace as his thrusts got more serious. Simultaneously Yamada slipped in a third finger as I started to get close, my hips stuttering against his face. 

I was close and they both knew it. Yamada sped up his ministrations and I sped up my own. Aizawa gritted his teeth as he picked up the pace, grabbing the hair he was once delicately stoking and yanking it as he used my throat as a personal cock sleeve. It wasn't long before I came on Yamada's fingers. 

Aizawa wasn't far behind. His hips were beginning to stutter as tears streamed down my face with each thrust. When he finally was about to finish, however, he pulled out and came down my front. 

I coughed and groaned, falling to my side as I recovered once Aizawa let go of his vice-like grip on my hair. Yamada chuckled. 

"Oh c'mon kid, we both know you aren't done yet." I grinned lazily up at him and nodded. 

"Of course, Sir." 

"Good girl." Aizawa affirmed, pulling me over his lap. I squeaked as Yamada slotted himself undere from the front before he smeared Aizawa's cum along my breasts. When he reached my nipples he tweaked them, making me whine. 

"You ready?" Yamada begged as he lined himself up with my pussy. Aizawa grunted as they both waited for my go. I nodded almost immediately. 

"Yes Sir!"

"Very good." Aizawa muttered as he lined himself up with my asshole. 

I wasn't given any warning as the pair entered me quickly, simultaneously. I let out a loud moan as they both paused inside of me, having sheathed themselves down to the hilt. 

"God…" Yamada moaned, "You feel so good, kid. So good for us."

Yamada's grip tightened to a bruising grip on my hips whilst Aizawa's hand was on the back of my neck, forcing me onto Yamada and down on their cocks as the pair pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back in quickly again. My ass and breasts jumped with each thrust as they both started at a slow but sharp pace. It was piercing in the best way possible, sending zaps of pleasure straight through me, which was only intensified when my clit caught on Yamada's pubic hair. 

I felt full. And I realised I really liked that sensation. 

"Yes Sir! Please, right there!" I begged as the pair picked up the pace, slamming perfectly into those spongy areas that felt eye wateringly good, so much so that, as the pace quickened, I began to feel my orgasm building. 

"I-I'm getting close, Sir…!"

"Don't cum yet." Aizawa snarled in my ear.

"You don't cum until we say so. Right, kid?" I whined. 

"P-please, Sir!" I pled. However the pair looked at one another before stopping. I almost cried, "No, please-!"

"You don't cum until we say so. Right?" Aizawa affirmed. I nodded feverently. 

"Yes Sir…"

"Good girl." Yamada praised before they both started to fuck me again. As I got closer I panicked and quickly told the pair again, which ended in the same motion. This happened a few more times before I was literally crying from overstimulation. 

"P-please, Sir! I need it so badly!"

"No."

"Aw c'mon. I think she deserves a treat." Yamada grinned, "Don't you think, Aizawa?" I nodded furiously in agreement. I heard Aizawa sigh before he gave in. 

"You have been good so far…" he agreed, making me trill in happiness. 

"Thank you!"

And just like that the pair didn't hold back. Their only goal was to make me cum and damn I was close. Each thrust led to a zap of pleasure as they bullied their way inside of me, making space for their huge cocks. 

It wasn't long before I came undone, screaming at the top of my lungs as I clamped around them and locked up. From there the pair continued to fuck me through my high. And they just kept going, not giving me a chance to recover and instead building me up for another orgasm. 

It was when that hit that the pair began to grow sloppy in their thrusts as their cocks twitched inside of me. It was obvious they were getting close but I knew they wanted me to beg for it. 

So I did. 

"Please Sir! Please cum in me!" I begged. 

"Such a dirty girl." Yamada teased through gritted teeth, nails digging into my hips, "Knows exactly what I wanna hear."

"Such a good girl." Aizawa agreed, pulling me back to meet their thrusts. As I bounced on their cocks I felt myself building again and warned the pair. 

"Good. Cum for us. Be a good girl for us." Yamada encouraged. I nodded furiously, biting my lip. 

"Yes, yes!" I squealed as I came on their cocks for the third time. And it wasn't long before they both came inside me, first Yamada and then Aizawa. 

I slumped, the only support being the two men sandwiching me as we all laid on the bed, never pulling out. I felt safe, satisfied and full. 

"I feel so full." I purred, earning two chuckles. 

"You rest now." Aizawa muttered, delicately brushing my hair. 

"You did good kid." Yamada added, rubbing my back. I smiled. 

'This is what I needed. Thank you, Sir.'

[pokeberry5]

i'm not really sure what the main thrust of this post is, but this yj98 arc has been haunting me literally since I read it months ago, so I've put together a brief(ish) overview of the salient points and the questions it's left me with

aka

that time young justice was sent to a literal intergalactic war front

aka

young justice has even more complex ptsd than you probably thought!!

yj98 #35

the premise is that there's a global war against imperiex, spearheaded by president (blech) luthor. as minors, they can't be drafted into it

(i hunted around and apparently Our Worlds at War, with Imperiex as the big bad, is the broader context, which i didn't feel like reading for this)

instead, they're going to be attached to a "sort of super medical unit" called the "paradocs"

the way they're persuaded to accept their role (instead of?? fighting on the front lines?? jeez kon) is to conceive of themselves as saving active-combat superheroes for their children they're leaving at home (creating an implicit distinction between those children and themselves, which i find sad)

yj is specifically a "search and rescue team"

with a civilian cissie king-jones as their qualified emergency medical technician (so her public persona is an olympic champion, actress, and volunteer veteran of an intergalactic war???)

is cissie the only one performing medical services then? do any of the others pick anything up from her, if these missions last long enough? (do tim and cissie bond as the only non-powered people they know going into a space war?)

yj98 #36

they've run "a couple" successful missions behind enemy lines: what does this mean for the duration of this role?

(i'm not sure if reading Our Worlds at War would help determine how long this all lasted, but if someone who has read it has answers, i'd love to know)

also, were they in space the whole time or going back in between? (i also really really want to know what batman thinks of his protégé being part of a space war. related, did cassie tell her mom??)

---

Superboy Vol 4 #91: War Letters gives some context to this

(kon putting on a brave face!!)

but also:

even as paramedics they were participating in active combat, fighting off scavengers

the lack of specifics, the mention of the fact that he's met "a lot of interesting cats in the field," and of "things" he's seen—there's a sense that he's seen a lot but not enough yet for it to no longer be shocking. or, that what they're seeing is so savage that it never ceases to be shocking.

this also implies that they've met and rescued a slew of people from across the universe. does yj have intergalactic connections? do random alien soldiers remember this small group of earth children that saved them?

this panel also shows kon (and likely the rest of them) amidst recovering jl members. what does the broader jl think of this group of kids in an acknowledged war zone, seeing them beaten down like this? (it's unclear whether kon actually went and rescued kyle rayner here or is just helping him around the medical area, but there must be some sort of lasting impression from this)

they get diverged from their rescue mission and end up on apokolips

bart experiences death when one of his "scouts" is killed—this has a lasting impression on him (addressed later) and kon blames himself, since it was his decision to chase after steel that landed them here. do the two of them ever talk about this? (they don't in yj at least)

---

yj98 #36 contd.

kon's accusation shows that this arc happened right after the drama between batman and the jla during tower of babel (the secret contingency plan drama)

and after batman's betrayal of tim's identity to spoiler (rip tim being betrayed on multiple fronts)

(tim putting on a strong front :'))

i find it interesting that tim considers his state "a world of grays" in contrast to kon's "black and white" attitude. balancing a multitude of considerations is a "world of grays?" anyway, tim staring death in the face and admitting he's scared :')

and then tim gets to watch lil lobo die (he does technically come back but!) and says explicitly that another part of innocence he didn't know he had died with lobo. this can't be his first time witnessing a death given gotham's everything, so is it because this is the first time he's watched a comrade die (and so brutally too)?

yj98 #37

and then! we get extended(?) mental torture on apokolips, enough to drive to tim to attempted homicide (both in the dream world and out of it)

(he was made to watch kon and cassie get murdered brutally in front of him jsyk)

and once he's out:

(does this ever haunt tim? that he almost broke batman's one rule? also parallels with dick beating the joker to death later on tim's behalf)

yj98 #38

the fallout:

we see that after experiencing his scout's death on apokolips, bart's been left with a fear of death strong enough to get him to leave yj (i don't actually know how this gets resolved?? it must happen in his solo bc he just sort of reappears a few mini arcs later...)

("i quit for a bunch of reasons ... but not a single one of them had to do with being afraid i'd get killed," cissie you're sooooo well-adjusted. she doesn't think bart's valid rip)

this is the moment where tim quits yj because he can't deal with their lack of trust (oof) and because“i don’t need the grief of young justice,” referring to everything else going on in tim's life (batman betraying his identity to spoiler)

(he'll lose them later on anyway—does it haunt him that he came back?)

(it's sweet that kon has someone he feels he can talk to and ask advice from)

i'm not sure if tim ever gets that apology

tldr: i kind of want one or more of yj to end up as a paramedic

[pharawee]

Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...

Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:

That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.

Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.

Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).

Way has returned as Way the White.

As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).

Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.

And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).

I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.

Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).

Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas." 

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

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A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

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