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What do you think about the whole Anne wanting the christening robe from Catherine that she brought from Spain?
The Lady, not being satisfied with what she has received already, has solicited the King to ask the Queen for a very rich triumphal cloth which she brought from Spain to wrap up her children with at baptism (en temps de la tesme (?) qu. baptesme?), which she would be glad to make use of very soon. The Queen has replied that it has not pleased God she should be so ill advised as to grant any favor in a case so horrible and abominable.
Chapuys to Charles V. (July 1533)
So, I mean...there's no record of this response, or any letters, that corroborate this incident? And there should ostensibly be a few, right? At the very least the letter requesting it and the letter of refusal.
All that's left, really, is to argue for the likelihood based on what we know.
Against: Anne doesn't seem to have wanted reminders of Catherine around? She didn't like that Henry's shirts were being made for her by that reason, it's theorized she "could not abide the sight" of monkeys because they were Catherine's favorite pets, etc.
Moreoever, the argument Borman has made that this was a symbol of legitimate royal blood, I mean...sure, it definitely was, but it was passed down through the Trasmataras? It seems strange that Anne would request it as seeing her future child as an extension of that dynasty, actually, it makes like...no sense. Had the christening robe been one used by Henry and his siblings, perhaps his mother and theirs, and for some reason Catherine had this in her possession, then it would make sense.
And doubly, the argument Henry was making at this time was that his children by Catherine could not have even be bona fides, because the marriage contravened divine law. So, the christening robe, as far as their perspective would have went, would actually be associated with illegitimacy (since it was used for the children of Henry and Catherine), thus asking for it would be contradictory to the beliefs they espoused, as would the imagery of that symbol.
Since it doesn't make any sense even as far as symbolism goes, if Anne requested it, the gesture could only have come from a place of cruelty and pettiness. There's reports of Anne being petty and cruel, so that does nothing to disprove anything, really. In this vein, Elizabeth Norton states that Anne “spotted an opportunity to continue her persecution of Catherine”.
So, maybe the argument can be made that the request was not even so much a symbol of power and legitimacy, as it was that the robe was said to be very beautiful and Anne thus wanted to use it? With perhaps the added benefit that some of her detractors might recognize it and seethe, Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne
For: Anne did, if memory serves, take several items from the inventory of Catherine's goods and used them in her household, as did Henry. I have the quote of these items from a biography saved somewhere, I would have to find it, I can't remember if they were sort of more generic, utilitarian objects (gilt pitchers, that sort of thing) or if there were any that displayed Catherine's actual symbols. Either way, this demonstrates that Anne was not that adverse to reminders of Catherine surrounding her, so lends credence to the claim made by Chapuys here.
#the argument generally goes well if she took her JEWELS then#but the jewels were the official jewels of the queens of england#so...of course they were given to anne?#and catherine essentially admitted those at least were not her property but rather the crown's/...so . henry's#by conceding?#so the incident does; if it happened; illustrate the difference between state and personal property. a christening robe passed down to her#by her family...obviously would have been#anon#'henry cringed at her insensitivity and refused to press the matter' lol...borman.#the latter does not prove the former#also yes. henry. famously known for his innate sensitivity to the feelings of others.#fare thee well#god now im getting mixed up with the inventory...i THINK the first wave was just wolsey's?#and then the second was in katherine's lifetime ? and then after her death .#it's all very murky . maybe what i'm remembering if she took some items from wolsey's inventory that had catherine's symbols on them?#or both#sigh. i really need to organize all my research better
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♨ Of Cheesecakes and Reports
― Barista!Kazuha x Gn!reader
― Sometimes, a little connection could make all the difference, and even the smallest gestures could spark hope and warmth in our busiest lives.
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 665
Notes: Half of this are based on my own experience hehe. Thank you for 100+ followers! Enjoy reading!
The aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the room as you sat at your regular table in the corner of the busy coffee shop. Even in this warm environment, you could feel a storm building within of you. Various tabs, research articles, and an incomplete report that appeared to be mocking you every time you looked at it cluttered your laptop screen. You massaged your temples in an attempt to release the tension there, but it didn't help.
Your mind was racing with deadlines and grades as you sipped your half-cold cappuccino. Snippets of laughing and conversation came from the other tables, but everything seemed so far away. Your worry made it harder to focus, and the outside world became a haze.
Damn reports…
All of a sudden, a cheesecake appears on your table and you look up.
There, stood a guy who appears to be the same age as you. He’s wearing an apron so you thought that he works here.
“Hey,” he said, offering a smile. “I noticed you’ve been glaring at your laptop screen for a while now. Here's a cheesecake to cheer you up. It’s on the house.”
You shake your head, surprised. “Oh, I couldn’t—”
“Really, it’s just a little pick-me-up. Trust me, it helps,” he insisted, carefully moving the plate of cheesecake next to your laptop.
You hesitated, but the sweet scent was irresistible.
“Thanks,” you said softly, taking a small portion and tasted it. “This is amazing.."
He smiled wider, glad to see a flicker of joy in your expression. “I’m glad you like it. It’s a new recipe I’ve been experimenting with.”
You took another bite, feeling a small wave of comfort wash over you. You look at the nametag on his apron. “Thank you, Kazuha. I really needed this. I’ve been stressing over this report for days.”
Kazuha came back to the counter and continued wiping the cups.
“I get that,” he said, leaning against the counter. “I’m a college student too, and it can be overwhelming. What’s your report about?”
“It’s about history, timelines and origins. You know how difficult science can get sometimes.” you sighed, “I just can’t seem to organize my thoughts.”
Kazuha nodded, genuinely interested. “That sounds difficult, indeed. History can be shits sometimes.”
“Right?” you sighed and leans on your chair.
Feeling comfortable, the two of you continue talking and sharing experiences about your college life.
You were surprised when Kazuha said that he studies at the same university as you. He’s also a year older than you, that’s why you never see each other at school. He said that he’s taking up computer science since he failed to secure a slot with his desired course, which is literature.
Part of you secretly wished that you see or bump into each other at school one day, and you mentally smiled at the thought. It sounds impossible given your busy schedules, but a simple wish can still be considered a hope.
After a while, you glanced at the clock, realizing you had been talking for nearly half an hour. “Wow, I didn’t mean to take up your break.”
“It’s all good. I enjoyed it,” Kazuha replied, “Sometimes you just need a little distraction.”
“I really appreciate it. You’ve made my day a lot better.”
“Anytime,” he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. “And if you need another cheesecake or just want to chat while you work, I’m here.”
You nodded, experiencing a level of comfort you hadn't anticipated. “I might just take you up on that.”
You noticed that you were less nervous and more concentrated when you went back to your report. You struck into a typing session, your fingers caressing the keys with newfound enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, from behind the counter, Kazuha observed you with a faint smile. Feeling lighter and a little bit proud, he went back to his work, secretly hoping that you would come visit again.
#― of cheesecakes and reports#zy.writes 🖋️#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kazuha imagines#kazuha fluff#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin fluff#genshin kazuha#genshin impact
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Pushing the line part 3
Part 1 Part 2
A/N: I finally am ready to post part 3 and I now have part 4 scheduled to post in 2 days! sorry for the wait and thank you all for supporting the last two parts and encouraging me to make part 3 😁.
Summary: Your dynamic with Law has evolved as you navigate Punk Hazard. However, the appearance of the Straw Hats might introduce some complications.
"I don't like the idea of that man holding your heart," you grumbled, falling into step beside Law as you navigated the corridors of the Punk Hazard lab. Clad in the mandatory yellow hazard suit, you crossed your arms and pouted.
Law chuckled at your displeasure. "I told you, it's the only way to gain access without raising suspicion."
"I still think we should switch," you insisted. “Give him my heart in place of yours. I don’t trust him.”
"And that's precisely why it needs to be my heart,” he replied, his tone firm. "If he had your heart I would be too busy worrying about you." He reached into his pocket, producing the blue cube that held Monet's heart. “Besides, he won't dare do anything while I hold Monet's." The organ pulsed in his hand.
You snatched the heart from his grasp, "Well, I’ll feel better if I kept that," you mumbled shoving the heart into your pocket.
He raised an eyebrow but nodded in understanding. "How are you blending in?" he asked changing the topic.
"Fine, I guess," you shrugged. "No one really pays attention to anyone else. The suit is the real problem. I feel like a walking oven." You tugged at the fabric, frustration evident in your voice.
Law sighed in sympathy. "We could've told Caesar we were a team," he suggested. “You could do without the suit that way.”
You shook your head. "I need to be able to move freely," you explained. "Besides, I'm getting a feel for the place."
"And you're absolutely certain you can alert me if something goes wrong?" Law asked, his gaze serious.
You nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on your Haki. With a concentrated effort, you enveloped your heart in a protective layer of your will. Law placed a hand over his chest, where your heart now resided, and seemed to sense the change.
"I mean it," you emphasized. "If anything happens, I'll reach out to you immediately." You grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. "We've got this." You smiled up at him. He released a sharp breath and nodded.
"Alright," Law conceded. "I'll meet you outside after your shift."
With that, you turned and disappeared deeper into the labyrinthine facility.
The plan was straightforward: infiltrate Caesar Clown's facility, gather intelligence on Joker, a.k.a. Doflamingo, destroy the SAD factory, and kidnap Caesar. Cutting off Doflamingo's SAD supply would cripple his Smile production and leave him vulnerable to the Yoki, the only thing he truly feared.
While Law used his Warlord status to cultivate a partnership with Caesar, gaining his trust and extracting information, you assumed the role of a lowly researcher. The disguise was perfect; no one paid attention to the faceless workers. Your mission: delve deeper into the SAD production process and gather any valuable intel.
Isolated from the crew, your bond with Law deepened. He opened up about his past, revealing the pain and anger that fueled his vendetta against Doflamingo.
Law made a promise to withhold no secrets from you, finally revealing the harrowing details of his past with Doflamingo and Corazon. The revelation was a shock, but it also offered a profound understanding of the man you had come to care for. His guarded nature, his constant need to reciprocate kindness—it all made sense now.
Though he still grappled with accepting your love unconditionally, progress was unmistakable. Gradually, the fortifications guarding his heart began to crumble.
Days turned into weeks as you navigated the treacherous world of Punk Hazard. By day, you were a diligent researcher, collecting samples and running tests. By night, you analyzed your findings, your mind racing with possibilities. You smuggled out anything of value, passing it to Law during your brief encounters.
You sat on the bed while Law intently studied the new chemical mixture you’d brought him. “I saw something strange today,” you mused, breaking the silence. Law looked up, his attention drawn to you.
“There was this guy bringing candy to a place called the ‘biscuit room,’” you continued. “Some of the candy was abnormally large.”
Law considered this for a moment. “Monet often goes to the biscuit room,” he said thoughtfully. “I always assumed it was just her break room. Maybe there's more to it than that.”
"Maybe. I'll check it out tomorrow." You shrugged, then smiled seductively, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "But for now..."
Law's eyes gleamed with passion. In an instant, he abandoned his work and was on top of you. His arms caged you in as he hovered above, his lips dancing across your neck.
You giggle as his breath tickles your skin. "I'm so glad it's just us," he whispered, his lips dancing across your neck. "I'm so glad you broke out of that room," he murmured.
"I could do without the getting locked in a room part," you laugh as your back falls onto the bed.
Law lifted his head, looking into your eyes before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. "You're right, I should have known a door wouldn't hold you. Next time, I'll tie you up," he smirked, pulling your hands above your head and pressing them into the bed.
He continued to trail his kisses down your neck as you moaned at his touch. When he reached the collar of your shirt he groaned he consolidated your hands into one of his freeing his other to pull your shirt fully off.
You laughed at his action while he trailed his kisses lower and lower on your now bare chest. Your breath hitched in your throat as he made his way to your thighs. His kisses were light against your skin and his facial hair lightly scratched against you each time he moved.
"I love you so much." He hummed.
"I love you too." You moaned closing your eyes as he traveled your body.
The next morning, you carefully exited the room, sliding your mask over your head and meticulously piecing your yellow hazmat suit together. As you proceeded in the direction of the "biscuit room," you remained unaware of the figure standing in the hallway nearby, observing you intently.
Law left shortly after, confidently walking in the opposite direction. The figure disappeared before he passed the hall.
Law entered the main room where Ceaser Clown was seated, holding a transponder snail in his hand. Once Ceaser noticed Law's presence, he quickly hung up the transponder snail, greeting Law with a boisterous laugh, "Law! Good morning!" he exclaimed. "Did you sleep well?" he inquired with a grin.
Law gave a curt nod before settling at the bar and pouring himself a steaming cup of coffee.
"Still as taciturn as ever, I see," Caesar laughed, transforming into a gas cloud and floating over to the bar next to Law. "What's on your agenda today? More brooding?" Law groaned at the man and continued sipping his coffee. "Ugh, you're no fun."
The door opened, and in flew the Harpy assistant, Monet. She lightly glided over to the remaining free seat at the bar, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Ah, Monet! Lovely to see you," the clown beamed.
Monet smiled softly, "Good morning to you too." She took a sip of her mug and continued, "Law, did you notice that one of your acquaintances is back in action?" She turned to the brooding pirate, who raised an eyebrow in confusion.
Monet smiled, reaching with her long wings to the end of the bar and sliding over the recent newspaper. Law looked down to see Straw Hat's face on the front page—a face he hadn't seen in two years.
Law shrugged and continued sipping his coffee. "You've encountered him a few times now, haven't you?" Monet probed. "I've read that you even saved his life once."
"I suppose," he replied with a shrug, seemingly unaffected. "It's been two years since I last saw him."
Monet hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting." She pulled the newspaper closer. "By the way, Law, we're having an issue with a samurai on the island. Our men are struggling to contain him. Would you mind lending a hand before he causes more trouble?" As she spoke, she began flipping through the pages of the paper.
"Yah I can see what I can do if I have the time," Law responded placing his mug down and walking out of the room.
Monet watched carefully as he left smiling smugly.
You shadowed the same group of men in hazmat suits until they reached the biscuit room. As they entered, you maintained your position, your gaze fixed on the door, waiting for your opportunity. But something caught your attention. Down the hall, a group of guards were roughly hauling a quartet of prisoners.
There was something oddly familiar about them. A red-headed woman in a skimpy top, a well-dressed blonde man, a peculiar, almost robotic figure, and a raccoon. The image sparked a recognition deep within you.
Confusion washed over you as the group exited the biscuit room. You were about to make your move when a guard's boast halted you in your tracks. "I can't believe we captured the Straw Hats!" he exclaimed.
The pieces fell into place. The familiar figures you'd seen moments ago were none other than the straw hat crew. A surge of disbelief and a tangle of emotions swept through you. The door to the biscuit room slammed shut, presumably locking you out. You cursed under your breath, your mind racing.
The Straw Hats' presence on the island could be a game-changer. Law had a peculiar interest in the Straw hats since Sabaody. An alliance could be beneficial, but their arrival might also complicate your mission to dismantle Caesar's operation. A plan began to form in your mind, a delicate balance of protecting the Straw Hats while advancing your own objectives.
You watched as the guards secured the prisoners in a nearby room. The door clicked shut, leaving the Straw Hats imprisoned. Your mind raced, grappling with the implications of their capture.
You offered a cursory bow to the passing guards, maintaining your facade. With a glance over your shoulder, you confirmed they were out of sight before turning and heading down the hallway.
The Straw Hats' presence introduced a new variable into your carefully laid plans. It was clear the Stawhats would be incapacitated for some time. Rescuing them now was futile. Your immediate priority was informing Law. With a growing sense of urgency, you turned and headed back down the corridor.
As you rounded the corner, you spotted Monet, Caesar's harpy assistant, standing at the end of the hall. Her gaze was fixed on you, a suspicious glint in her eye. You offered a quick bow, hoping to slip past unnoticed.
Before you could fully pass her, her leg shot up, her sharp claws wrapping around your neck and pinning you against the wall.
You yelped in surprise as your heart pounded in your chest as she tightened her grip, cutting off your breath. Desperation surged through you as you clawed at her leg, trying to break free.
"I'm surprised you didn't just release the Straw Hats," she hissed, her voice laced with venom.
You gasped for air, your vision blurring. "What are you talking about?" you managed to croak out.
“You're a part of Law's crew," Monet hissed, her voice low and menacing. "For the last month, you've been stalking around this island for him. You two have something planned, and I'm willing to bet the Straw Hats' arrival is part of it." She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your face.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you managed to stammer out, your voice trembling slightly. Monet rolled her eyes, her grip loosening as she tossed you to the floor. You hit the ground hard, gasping for air as you rubbed your sore neck. The harpy hovered above you, a menacing figure.
"You can't lie to me, Y/N," she taunted, a smirk playing on her lips. Your heart pounded as you heard her say your name. The facade of the terrified employee crumbled, replaced by a cold determination.
Your hand darted towards your chest, a surge of determination replacing your feigned fear. With a swift movement, you bypassed your clothing and plunged your fingers into the flesh just above where your heart would reside.
Monet's eyes widened in shock as you ripped a glowing blue cube from your chest cavity. A piercing scream tore from her throat as she clutched at the empty space where her own heart had been. You hovered above her, the stolen heart pulsing faintly in your grasp.
"We should have never underestimated you," you said coldly, your voice devoid of emotion.
"You should never have approached me without knowing the full board," you mocked, a cold glint in your eye. "While Law might be the king in this game, I'm not a pawn like you. I'm the queen, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect my king, even if it means taking a life. If Law held your heart, he'd likely use it as a strategic advantage, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But I don't hesitate."
A surge of dark satisfaction coursed through you as Monet's body slumped to the ground. You watched coldly as blood seeped from her lips, the stolen heart wrapped in your tight grip.
You glanced down at the heart in your hand as you released your gripped to see it begin to pulse faintly. You hadn't intended to kill her, but a strong message needed to be sent. For now, this would suffice.
Retrieving your mask from the floor, you stepped over Monet's unconscious body. After rifling through her pockets, you found a transponder snail. With a swift motion, you claimed it as your own, replacing hers. You then dragged her body against the wall, propping her up into a sitting position.
"You'll probably be out for a while," you muttered, your voice laced with a chilling indifference. "But when you wake up, I hope you have enough sense not to seek me out again."
A voice crackled through the transponder snail, interrupting your thoughts. "We haven't found anything else on the ship, ma'am," it reported. Then, a series of panicked shouts echoed through the device before cutting off abruptly.
Intrigued, you brought the snail closer to your ear. "Interesting," you murmured. "It seems there might be more of the Straw Hats on the ship. I should inform them of their friends' location."
With that, you turned and headed towards the docks.
*****
A/N: Thanks for reading and part 4 should be out soon, but hey if you wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList
#one piece#writing#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar law#one piece x reader#trafalgar d water law#fem!reader#one piece oc#straw hat pirates#one piece original character#gn!reader#gn!y/n#gn reader#gn one piece#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#law x you#law x y/n
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Hi!!!! can I get a fluff oneshot with Akademiya Dottore/Zandik and a shy gn reader where ur both outcasts and like eachother a lot, and one day when ur both out researching together he tries his luck at at flirting with reader (he sucks at it) - 🐓
Warning: Zandik is adorkable.
Mute.
That was all the other Dasturs of your class would call you due to your shy nature. Even the sages started to doubt your abilities as a scholar due to your meek and timid self. They would always tell you that no scholar as shy as you should continue studying in the Akademiya. For them, being shy is an insignificant personality that doesn't deserve attention or praise.
You let out a sigh, another day in the Akademiya, another day to get outcasted by the Dasturs and the sages. Still you kept going, ignoring the insults and proceeding with your studies. You weren't the only one in this situation. Your friend Zandik also received the same treatment from the Akademiya but that didn't stop him from his research.
You really liked Zandik ever since you met him during one of your classes. You had to swallow your own nervousness just to approach and talk to him, you didn't believe in the rumors about him being a weird one. He was rude to you at first but he slowly began to accept your presence and considered you as an acquaintance friend. Others would call you both as 'the weirdo and the mute', the outcast duo.
What you didn't know is that Zandik liked you as well. Your knowledge and intellect fascinates him and he finds your shy and timid nature to be adorable too. There's not a single day that goes by where you don't come up in his thoughts.
Zandik decided to invite you for a field research, using the excuse of needing to find another ruin guard for research purposes just to be able to spend time with you.
You both walked south of Vimara Village, the presence of each other bringing you both comfort. You looked around the area in search of a ruin guard, Zandik on the other hand was too busy trying to come up with something to say to you. You saw a pair of rishboland tigers passing by, you watched in awe at how the tigers interacted with one another. Zandik watched as you looked at the rishboland tigers, liking the way your eyes lit up from seeing the creatures of nature itself. Without a second thought, Zandik cleared his throat and said something that came to his mind.
“If we were ever cats, I'd spend all of my nine lives with you.”
You stared at Zandik in surprise, the male looking back at you with wide eyes, even shocked at himself for saying such a thing to you.
“Wait no, I mean I would never donate my organs to others but I would always give you my heart.”
Zandik could only mentally facepalm at himself for what he said as he felt his face flush red. He would want nothing more than run away from you and hide in his closet. Embarrassing himself in front of the person he likes was not on the scenarios he thought of last night. He swore it sounded much better when he was only thinking about it.
Oh, Archons you were looking at him as if he had grown two heads. Your doe-like eyes staring at his reddened face. Zandik gulped down his nervousness before facing your figure and looking at you.
"(y/n), as you can see from my failure of trying to flirt with you, what I'm trying to say is.. I like you."
Your eyes widened in surprise as Zandik held your hand in his, a blush spreading across your cheeks.
"I was wondering if I can ask you out on a date, to make it official. You can say no if you don't reciprocate my feelings. Someone as extraordinary as you shouldn't even be hanging out with an outcast like me."
What Zandik didn't expect was you leaning in close to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. You let out a small giggle as you watched him erupt into a blushing mess, him letting go of your hand just to hide his red face.
"I like you too, Zandik. You can take me out on a date."
You were confused when Zandik's flushed face started to scowl at you. He grabbed your arm before pulling you close to him, your body pressed up against his. You let out a small squeak as you stared at the male, not knowing what to do.
"Aren't you a sly little bunny? Kissing me on the cheek just to get me caught off guard. I thought you were just a shy little scholar. Seems like there's more to you than meets the eye.. but I'm not one to back down."
You were about to ask what Zandik meant when he suddenly held your chin between his fingers before pressing his lips against yours. You squeaked out in surprise before kissing back, not caring if anyone sees either of you in this situation.
An unlikely pair of outcasts. But they love each other nonetheless. And nothing in Teyvat can ever separate them from each other.
#dottore x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#dottore#zandik x reader#gender neutral reader
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[ 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 ] just awful
𝝑𝝔 You sigh heavily as you frantically shove things into your bag, irritated at the short notice Ni-ki had given you about his availability. Your text conversation had been frustrating to say the least, with very few words being exchanged, only enough to agree on a meeting place an time.
You zip your backpack shut and rush out the door, calling out to your parents that you were heading to work on a project, getting no response.
As you exit the house, you take several deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down, not wanting to show up to your meeting flustered and frazzled.
The walk to the library is short, courtesy of your house's location being close to the school. One of the few perks of the private school you attended was that the library stayed open until 2:00 am, a feature you'd taken advantage of several times during your time there.
You reach the library exactly 10 minutes before your agreed upon meeting time, not wanting to make him wait when he was clearly flaky already.
You grab a good spot in a quiet, secluded part of the library and text Ni-ki, letting him know where to find you. You pull out your laptop and begin working in the shared doc you created.
As you work, you realize that way more than 10 minutes have passed, and Ni-ki is nowhere to be found. You begrudgingly pull out your phone and text him, asking where he was.
Eventually, after 40 minutes of working and constantly checking your phone, you hear someone approaching your table. You look up in annoyance and see Ni-ki standing over you.
"You're late," you say, deadpan expression on your face.
He scoffs and tosses his backpack onto the table, plopping down in the chair furthest from you at the table, "You should be glad I even showed up."
You roll your eyes and pull up the rubric, "Ok, well, since I already starting working, I split up the work as evenly as possible. I'll do the research for the first part of the question, and you can research the second part. Put all the info in this doc and I'll format it properly."
You look up from your laptop to see Ni-ki looking bored and totally disengaged, "Listen, this project is huge for our grade and I really need an A, can we just get the work done so we can move on?"
He shrugs and opens his laptop, "The faster I'm done being your partner, the better."
You scoff at his insult but bite your tongue, just wanting to get as much work done as possible.
You're trying to focus on your own part of the research, but keep getting distracted by Ni-ki's messy typing and disorganized sentences appearing below yours.
"Can you at least organize it a little?" You ask pointedly, irritated that he wasn't even trying to make your life a little bit easier.
He snaps his head up to look at you, suddenly looking more irritated than bored, "Listen, I showed up and I'm doing my work, stop being so controlling."
His sudden outburst shocks you a bit, so you just nod and look back down at your computer.
More time passes and you eventually decide that you've done enough work for the day, that, and the fact that Ni-ki's presence was suffocatingly uncomfortable.
"Alright, that's enough for today. We'll need to figure out when we can work on the project again, but we made a good start."
You don't even wait for him to respond before shoving your laptop back into your bag and speed walking out of the library. 𝝑𝝔
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝝑𝝔 yay new chapter woohoo!! i want a real enemies to lovers so ni-ki's gonna be mean at first , sorry guys :(
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝝑𝝔 @gweoriz @chenlesfavorite @wonwonpuffs @soobinbunnie5
#jaeyunluvbot#kpop smau#kpop#enhypen#profiles#smau profiles#enhypen smau#ni ki#enhypen nishimura riki#nishimura riki#zb1 ricky#shen ricky#liz#ive rei#ive#ive liz#ni ki x reader#riki nishimura x reader#ni ki smau#riki nishimura smau
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Robot HRT: Day 0
After months of seeing all the awesome therian HRT art on here, I decided to make my own entry. I can't draw, but I can write, so here is part 1 of robot hrt!
Harsh fluorescent light cascades off the clinically white walls of the doctor’s office. Ontop of a worn, particle board desk sits a high stack of papers - various consent forms and waivers all signed and stamped, and presented in triplicate. Behind it sits a weathered man, bald barring the sides, and bespectacled with coke bottle glasses. Whilst leafing through the pile, he glances at the woman across from him. Dark, tired eyes look back at him through markedly less thick glasses. Her cherubian face is emotionless beyond a clear look of exhaustion. To get to this point alone had been almost too much for her to handle, but finally she is here.
“Seems like you have all the necessary paperwork,” he says apprehensively. Taking a deep breath before continuing. “As you know, I normally specialize in metazoic HRT, but thanks to groundbreaking research we now offer what you’re requested.”
He remakes eye contact, looking for acknowledgement. The woman remains silent and still. None of this news to her. She’s who spent more than a year trying to get to this appointment after all.
“Yes, well, as I was saying, we do now offer the medication you desire. Micronized droidsterol, better known by the brand name of Cyberstrone, is a once daily, 200 MG capsule that you’d be taking each morning with breakfast. Unlike other medications, this is a complex network of nanomachines that will work in unison to replace organic materials with inorganic ones. Major effects early on are headaches and cramping, compulsion to eat metal and plastics, or drink oil and gasoline, as well as internal and external irritation as the cells are replaced. Side effects may include but are not limited to weight gain, weight loss, suicidal ideation, depersonalization, derealization, death, and even loss of humanity.”
On this last one, he yet again makes eye contact, searching for a reaction. Again, nothing. In reality, she had barely been listening. This rundown was nothing but a scare tactic. One final review of the risks to see if she could be swayed from this path.
Finally, she speaks. Her flat voice carrying no tone but impatience. “Is that all?”
“Well, yes, but it really is important you understand the severity of this choice. Afterall, this medication is rather new and...”
“Doctor, I understand.” She cuts him off, slightly raising her voice, yet remaining monotone. “I have been working towards this since Cyberstrone started human trials. I am fully aware of the risks, and the effects. Now, please stop wasting more of both our time, and, please, write me a prescription.”
The doctor sighs, but begins to enter information into the computer. “As you wish. This will be a 90 day supply, but I will need to see you every 30 days to check your progress. You can talk to my receptionist to schedule your first follow up.”
“Thank you. See you in a month, doctor.”
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Horror Movie Marathon.
(BTAS) Jonathan Crane x F!Reader.
Word Count: 660.
Contents: Jonathan overworking himself, Fluff, kissing.
You carefully set out all the dvds that you had prepared in advance for tonight. You wanted to try and organize a date around some of Jonathan's interests. However, that proved to be a bit difficult because of his more unusual tastes. But you ultimately decided that because of his fascination with fear that a horror movie marathon would probably be enjoyable.
You wondered if he'd appreciate your attempt at a nice date. Would he actually enjoy horror movies? You weren't fully sure, but you really hoped that he would. You had ultimately reasoned that with his overall interest in fear that he'd probably be able to at least appreciate the movies on an artistic standpoint.
You've been looking forward to this night for a few weeks now. You and Jonathan had been dating for almost a year and a half now. However, you were hardly ever able to spend time together. He was always working on his fear toxin and coming up with plans on how to use it, or he was getting thrown into Arkham after batman had caught him, or he was escaping Arkham... Again. Honestly, he was always preoccupied with something.
You were snapped out of your train of thoughts as you heard the door to Jonathan's office open. His hair was quite disheveled, and his eyes looked tired. He had clearly been working away nonstop on his latest plans. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee in an attempt to keep himself awake slightly longer.
"Jon..? Don't tell me that you've been working in there since earlier this morning without a single break?"
"I have to, my dear. If I want my plan to go perfectly, then I need to enact them at the best time possible, so it needs to be finished in time."
You felt a bit disappointed and also worried for Jonathan's health if he kept working away at this rate. You knew and understood how important his research into fear and how it affected people was. He was extremely passionate about it, in fact. it's definitely not in the best of ways, but that was just one of the many things that made him... him.
He noticed that you appeared to be slightly disappointed about something, so he sighed and ran his hand through his hair before asking you about it.
"What’s wrong, my dear?"
"Oh... well, I suppose I'm just a bit worried about you.... are you sure you can't take a break...? Not even for just a little bit..?"
"....are you really dead set on having me take a break?"
"....Absolutely."
He sighed and reluctantly sat down on the couch next to you. It was then that he noticed the stack of movies and the bowl of popcorn that was setting on the coffee table. You wanted him to spend time with you. Honestly, he was somewhat less irritated about taking a brief break when he realized that. A slight smile broke out on his face.
"....A horror movie marathon...? That's what you want to spend your time doing with me?"
"Well... it's just... I know how much you like fear and stuff... so I thought you'd appreciate it...."
It warmed his heart that you wanted to try and do something he'd enjoy. Horror movies weren't exactly something he was too invested in. After all, they paled in comparison to the genuine fear that he had witnessed in people's eyes whenever he used his fear toxin. But they were still somewhat enjoyable. He leaned in closer to you and gently kissed your lips.
"Thank you, my dear. I appreciate the gesture."
After about an hour of watching them, you realized that Jonathan had fallen asleep next to you, clearly because of how much he'd been overworking himself with his plans. So you decided not to wake him. You adjusted the blanket to cover him better before kissing his forehead.
"... Goodnight Jon, I love you...."
#dc comics#batman#btas#btas scarecrow#scarecrow x reader#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#x reader#fanfic
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A Little Less Conversation…
OuiHaw x AFAB Reader [Ashe x Widowmaker (Amelie Lacroix) x Reader]
Warnings: use of She/Her pronouns, suggestive content, mentions of violence, men being gross, pet names (Sugar, Mon Cuer, Cherie)
A/N: Babes, this is supposed to have a smutty part two, so if you want it, let me know.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you two at least act like you want to be here,” you adjusted your earrings and fixed your hair in the mirror. Tonight was the Talon Investors Gala, where you and agents alike would be wooing larger corporations to fund the organization. As the head of technological advancement and board member, you were expected to attend no matter what, but neither of your girlfriends seemed to want to go with you.
“Cherie, you know as soon as I enter the door, I will be swept away by Moira as the ‘pinnacle of her research’,” Amelie strode up next to you , adorned in a red floor length dress with a slit on each side.
“And I don’t even think I’m supposed to be there,” Ashe was sat on the bed of your hotel room, tie and shirt undone as she waited for the two of you.
“Nonsense, Moira has researchers to entertain the whole night with her life force siphoning-thingy and her little bug spray,” you finish up, giving yourself a once over before leaving the bathroom, “ and you are technically on my payroll because you traffic weapons for me to make better. You belong,” you smile and kiss the white haired woman’s cheek.
“But there are gonna be so many people,” Ashe cupped your cheek and pulled you closer.
“And if we stay here,” Amelie made her way behind you, wrapping her hands around your waist and cementing your spot between both women, “we don’t have to worry about anyone getting too close to you, mon cuer.”
“I like the sound of that,” Ashe’s hand on your cheek moved to your chin, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip.
You almost let them win when your phone wrang, the boss himself calling. Both women let go of you with a sigh as you chuckled and moved out of their grasp.
“Hello?… Yes… We are going to be there Akande, don’t fret…Oh? Ok… go get ready, stop worrying about me. Good bye,” you hung up and ran a hand through your hair.
“Since when are you on first name basis with him?” Amelie was now sitting next to Ashe, both of them finally ready to go out.
“Since I pushed Talon ahead of Vishkar and the Russians, which is why I need to go tonight, they are looking to outsource and buy me out of some of my designs,” you grabbed your coat and your gun and made your way to the door, “it would be really great if the women I love where in my corner tonight.”
“We will be Sugar, don’t you worry,” they got up and followed you out the door, “but why are you bringing the fire power?”
“Akande told me we may have uninvited guests, and don’t act like both of you aren’t packing,” you laugh as you tuck it into the top of your dress.
Amelie gave Ashe a knowing look and the cowgirl let out a light chuckle, “We’re packing something alright.”
The comment didn’t register at first, but then a blush grew from the base of your neck to your nose.
“Oh come on Cherie, as if we would pass up an opportunity to let your mind wonder.”
You had gathered yourself and entered the ballroom, looking around to all of the people in front of you. As you walked to your table you waved at associates and team members you worked with, flashing an award winning smile to everyone in your wake.
“You know, you really look like you are in your element, you positive you need us?” Ashe leant down and whispered in your ear, her hands in her coat pockets.
“Yes, because I need a reason to bail out of a conversation if I don’t like it.”
You made your way to your table, a few chairs empty but most had name plates of other board members that would be joining you or are already on the floor.
“Thank you for finally showing your face, I almost thought I’d have to come find you myself,” the Doomfist stood to greet you and shake your hand, “I see you brought Ms. Lacroix and the cowboy with you.”
“Akande, be respectful, she does business with us, she can be here,” you pat his shoulder and place your coat on the back of your chair, “I’m going get a drink and swindle Viskar out of more money than they can comprehend. Ashe, keep our Love Bug away from Moira if she happens to get loose.”
The brunette coughed at the nickname and your boss gave you an amused glance.
“Don’t worry hun, she’s not going anywhere.”
All three of them watched as you shifted effortlessly into your professional persona, entrapping people in conversation and then swiftly moving on after getting what you needed from them.
“You know she’s kind of hot when she does all that sweet talking,” Ashe sat back down after her own journey to the bar, passing one of the drinks she had to the assassin next to her.
Amelie hummed in agreement, taking a sip of her drink, “Confidence looks good on her, her brazenness almost rivals yours.”
“That will never happen, but she’s getting close.”
They both watch you as you talk up an older gentleman at a table across the room. You sat next to him, laughing at him, keeping him entertained, and then he scooted closer. It was a small movement, one that you didn’t seem to notice, but the two pairs of eyes watching, it was obvious.
“He is getting pretty chummy, ain’t he?”
“Indeed, but let’s not intervene just yet,” Amelie took Ashe’s hand into hers as they watched the rest of the interaction.
The man put his hand over yours, you quickly retracted to occupy it with your drink. You glanced around the room and made eye contact with your partners, raising your eyebrows at them before going back.
He was persistent, if not bold. Leaning further into you and putting his arm over the back of your chair. You remained composed but when your posture stiffened, the women across the room where ready to get up at any moment.
You wrapped up the conversation as he wrote on the back of a business card and handed it to you. Heading back to the table, you pulled out a notebook and a tape recorder from your pockets and placed them in front of your boss.
“Here, written and spoken promises, business cards and contact info are book marking each section, I’m out,” you sigh, picking up your jacket, “that last guy was gross.”
“You tolerate a man like that again and I will not hesitate to end him,” Amelie said the threat casually, giving a little shrug, “let us go, we have a room to get to.”
“I’m talked out for the evening. See you at the next board meeting Akande, but I need to leave,” Your girlfriends where just about ready to go when the large man grabbed your hand at the last second.
“You have one more guest to impress, then you may leave,” his voice was low, you all sat back down with different expressions of grievance on your face.
“What creep am I supposed to be meeting with now?”
“That ‘creep’ would be me,” none other than Katya Volskaya made her way over to the table, flanked by two guards.
You quickly swept the recorder and notebook up and put them back in the pockets of your romper.
“I thought you killed her?” You grit through your teeth to Amelie, giving her a confused glare.
“I missed the window of opportunity, and he,” she nodded to Akande, “saw a new opportunity for her, so we never went back.”
You let out a short lived groan before resuming your pageant ready attitude.
“Ms. Volskaya, pleasure to meet you,” you stuck your hand across the table, hers meeting yours as you gesture for her and her goons to sit.
Both of the women beside you watched in as as you commanded the table, laying out all of the plans and ideas she may be interested in and working her to get the best deal possible. Ashe was never a negotiator except for between the gang, and Amelie was just a hired gun, never in the room where it happens.
“… And what if we don’t just call the Russian forces or Overwatch and have your technology without the hassle?” Volskaya payed out the threat like a trump card, making eye contact with both you and your boss. Akande went to move but you put a hand up, stopping him.
Before you said anything you felt Ashe put a hand on your thigh, squeezing it. You looked over at both her and Amelie, Ashe giving you a look of ‘let her have it’, and Amelie wearing a small grin as she nodded back to the Russian in front if you.
“The tech I’m selling you is to protect your country and let cattle die like heros,” you fold your hands together and lean forward, “the tech I’m keeping for myself can burn down the whole cattle farm. By all means, call your special forces… you can tell their families they died because you brought a spoon to a gunfight.”
You stood, looking at Akande and smiling, “Volskaya Industries isn’t interested in working with us, remove them from the investors list-“
“Name your price,” Katya looked up at you, her hands balled on the table. Your smile grew sinister, matching the look in your eyes.
“We will be in touch, but you keep your lines open,” you wave her goodbye and grab your coat once again, your girlfriends following two steps behind as you make your way to the exit.
“Sugar, if I'd have known how hot you are when you do business I’d have made you do all my dirty work,” Ashe undid her tie as soon as you hit the door.
“Well you two are so reluctant to come with me on business trips. You’d see a lot more,” you took your earrings and heels off, moving to help Amelie with her dress.
“How about we see a lot more tonight?” Ashe’s breath felt hot as you where once again sandwiched between the two women, the cowgirl behind you holding your back to her front.
“I wouldn’t mind showing you.”
#overwatch#ashe overwatch#elizabeth caledonia ashe#widowmaker#widowmaker overwatch#ouihaw#ashe x reader overwatch#ashe x reader#ashe x fem reader#widowmaker x reader#amelie lacroix#Amelie lacroix x reader#widowmaker x fem reader#overwatch 2#doomfist#ouihaw x reader#ouihaw x fem reader
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[ CLEANSE ] our muses have sex in the bathtub from this prompt list + faith/jenna
notes: *scrambles in on the literal last day of pride month with the faithjen fic i swore i would post before its end* omg hiiiiiiiii hi hii. requested so long ago i won’t leave anyone on the hook for it even by my timeliness standards but. it’s here wordcount: 4k (almost) even warnings: NSFW, naturally. soapy boobs and thigh riding and all. bliss and cult stuff mentioned in passing. undertones of passive aggressiveness, less than healthy relationship dynamics, and emotional repression. local woman won’t just tell her girlfriend she smells like shit and she misses her but needs her alone time after work. faith smells like shit trutherism implied. (maybe to the point of unsanitary warning, but not really.) probably chemistry inaccuracies even with the intentional vagueness. prose over dialogue heavy. editing is not my strong suit, nor is conciseness
Jenna didn’t mind the smell of bliss, really.
At any stage in the production process.
A floral perfume heavied by its own decay, as the leaves dried. Fruit rotting and baking beneath unforgiving sunlight.
Antiseptic saturated air that stung Jenna’s nostrils with its chemical burn on the most gentle, tentative inhale as plant matter dissolved. A bite deepened by the dry, earthy crackle of burning leaves, the heavy stench of gas coughed and spit from bunsen burners ignited by unsure, newly trained hands.
A subtle brine beneath it all as the product was poured and stirred into vats of preservatives to be stowed away, like sea air that had soured.
She didn’t mind the smell. She really didn’t. If anything she liked it.
It meant things were rolling along successfully, after all. She particularly liked when she could pick up a note of each individual scent at once. Smoothly blending together, yet as distinct upon inspection as the stages of the process itself. A sign her lab was becoming a well oiled machine.
No, she didn’t mind the smell of bliss.
She did, just a bit, mind that it clung.
That it settled heavy into every fiber of her hair and clothing to follow her. That it managed to find her nose no matter how tightly sealed her mask, the creeping knowledge lurking in the back of her mind that it surely seeped into the soft pink tissue of her lungs as well.
She sighed at the thought, peeling off the last of her clothing and dropping it into the hamper — one built just for her, and bearing an uncanny resemblance to a biohazard container, with its plastic lining and sealed lid.
And it might as well be, she thought, soles of her feet adjusting to the lightly glossed grain of the hardwood as she slipped out of her shoes and stepped towards the bathtub.
Not that she minded that either.
The mere fact that she had a proper, safety proofed bin to dump her potentially contaminated clothing in was a stark improvement from her former research lab days. As was the fact her laundry would ultimately be left to someone else at the conclusion of her long work day, taken care of by one of the Project members assigned to do their part by washing and returning her clothes. (And far be it for her as a neutral observer to question the group’s organization of labor.)
Jenna rolled and cracked her neck as she tugged at elastic band and allowed her hair to fall freely, trailing fingers along ends dried and frayed from exposure to the harsh chemical smoke. Another reminder of the unavoidable damage Bliss production did to her body. (But what kind of scientist would she be, if she wasn’t willing to put her own body on the line as readily as anyone else’s?)
She brushed a hand through her curls, then brought the fingers to her nose, inhaling the lingering scent of latex and disinfectant. She glanced down at her palm, tracing eyes along the powdery residue settled in its creases.
Very much like her old research lab days, in the way it wore on her body.
But better in every other sense, really.
Better in that she was making real progress with her work, not jammed up with red tape. In that her journey from work to home was a short stroll down the hall of the Conversatory’s manor rather than just shy of an hour’s worth of bumper to bumper traffic to creep along all of ten miles. That her home had a deep clawfoot tub to soak the day away in, as opposed to the tiny shower stall of her old studio apartment.
Yes, superior by every measure she could conceive, she assured herself as she turned the knob of the faucet, mixing a blend of bath oils into the water as steam rose.
It was its own small bit of chemistry: mixing a concoction that would soothe and moisturize without settling into greasy film, building a sweet and potent perfume that didn’t too closely resemble the honeysuckle nectar of Bliss flowers.
And a particularly pleasant application of the science, warmth of the water melting the tension from her muscles as she slipped into the tub.
She sank down, dipped her head back to submerge, splashed water over her face before rising to sit again, droplets trickling down her back.
She rinsed, repeated the motion.
A creak of rusted hinges crying out in complaint cut through the soft sloshing of bath water to draw Jenna’s attention towards the opening door, joined by a gentle hum in a slow searching rise and fall, as if attempting to find harmony with the metallic screech.
Jenna tilted her head to better view her intruder, identity well known to her before her cheek ever pressed against cool porcelain.
Faith continued humming under her breath, smoothing out the tune with the settling of the door back into its frame at the gentle press of her fingertips, padding footsteps weaving left and right in something of a half dance on her path towards the tub.
It was Faith’s own way of slowly washing off the day, Jenna thought with an amused smile, the gradual easing out of the public persona into something more organic and relaxed — and no less captivating.
Faith’s song bubbled into a laugh (muted, not rising with the pitch it did around others) as she bent at the waist to hover over the tub. Jenna met her with a low, flat hum of her own and a wordless nod of acknowledgement.
Faith held the silence, reaching a hand out to drop dried flower petals to float atop the water. Not Bliss flowers — a collection from their private gardens. A smattering of primroses and poppies. She was well aware of Jenna’s stance on compartmentalizing. That Bliss, however pleasant, was business, the very business she was washing herself of at the end of her shift.
Basket emptied and set aside, Faith smoothed her skirt to prop herself seated at the edge of the tub. She leaned down to skim her fingers along the water — crowding Jenna’s senses with the syrupy perfume of Bliss that clung to her as she did. A more natural, softer version of the scent, lacking the sharp chemical notes, but familiar enough to wind the tension of work back into Jenna’s muscles nonetheless.
“You shouldn’t,” Jenna said plainly, gesturing with her eyes to the fingertips cutting ripples through bathwater. “Touch the water directly,” she clarified. “Because of the chemical residue, that is. Miniscule risk of harm, but not absent.”
Faith pulled back, blinked slowly. Then dropped her head with eyes closed, corners of her mouth stretching outward to allow a full and bright ringing laugh to spill from rosy lips.
A bit of residue, Jenna thought.
“From the Bliss, Jenna?”
A nod. “And every ingredient that goes into its production,” she answered, stretching her arms to rest along the sides of the tub. “It’s less dangerous than the sum of its parts, in ways.”
“There’s nothing I could possibly fear,” Faith dismissed, propping herself on her hands and lifting to spin on the porcelain ledge, draping her legs over the width of the tub with heels propped on the opposite side. “Not from the Bliss. Not from being near you.”
Jenna sighed, lifting her hand to trail damp, quickly pruning fingertips along the length of the woman’s leg in subtle acquiescence, feeling the small scrapes and caked dirt texturing the skin, signs she’d spent the day hard at work herself.
It was its own form of exposure risk Faith faced. Working with the end product. Being in the public eye. One Jenna couldn’t as easily mitigate with rigid safety protocol.
“It’s not about feeling fear or not,” Jenna countered, straightening her spine to sit more upright. Closer, she could smell past the perfume of Bliss to the subtle musk of sunbaked sweat. “It’s a… practical risk analysis. Strict probability.”
Faith giggled, softening again, but with a practiced dismissiveness all the same.
“Is that really all you can think about?” Faith questioned, now dipping a foot into the bathwater, flakes of dirt dissolving from the calloused skin to float alongside the petals as she rolled her ankle to stir. “Let’s be more practical by saving time and bathing together, then.”
“Practical doesn’t always mean efficient,” she answered plainly. “Again, the risk of —”
Her words were cut off by a sudden splash from Faith dropping her feet to the base of the tub, pulling her dress over her head in the same fluid motion.
Ah. So it was that kind of soft prodding suggestion, the kind Faith gave to signal a foregone conclusion — a particularly unavoidable one, it seemed, given she apparently hadn’t been wearing any underwear beneath her dress.
Jenna sighed.
“I don’t anticipate it will actually make things faster, either,” Jenna offered, affectionately placing hands at the backs of Faith’s legs to steady her nonetheless. “I think if anything it will lengthen the time we spend —”
“I hope it does,” Faith interrupted, settling atop Jenna’s lap. “I wish this moment could stretch on for eternity,” she said, wrapping arms around Jenna’s neck. “I wish it could last long enough to make up for every second that I’ve missed you.”
With that Faith leaned forward to close the remaining distance — a firm, steady pressure until she was seemingly satisfied Jenna’s lips would remain still, then melting into something more fluid and delicate.
“I have missed you, Jenna,” Faith parted ever so slightly to whisper against her lips. “I miss you, when we have to spend so much time apart.”
Well. As far as Jenna was concerned that was as good a qualitative factor for consideration as any, enough for her to stop bothering with explanations in favor of brushing aside the lightly misted curtain of blonde hair to kiss along Faith’s neck, subtle saltiness of dried and rewetted sweat clinging to her tongue.
But her nose nudging against golden locks also jostled loose a fresh perfume of honeysuckle, thickened by dewdrops of bathwater splashed onto her hair.
A pleasant smell, but not conducive to the head space Jenna sought — one temporarily, clinically insulated from the Bliss.
Jenna reached past Faith to lift the handheld showerhead from its brass mount, raking fingers along Faith’s scalp and her head to tilt back with a dreamily defeated sigh, “Well, we should at least be productive about it then, shouldn’t we?”
Faith’s fingers did not seem particularly set on productivity as they stirred to trace the curves of Jenna’s body, brushing featherlight along the dip of her collarbone and down to caress her chest, then seeming to disappear and reappear to tease along her thighs.
It would be better, to not have to rush it, Jenna thought to herself as she willed her own hands to work lathering shampoo into blonde hair rather than reach towards the places she truly longed to touch.
She didn’t like to rush anything with Faith.
She liked to sit with the sensations, savor each unique ache and dizzying jolt of pleasure she stirred inside her. She wished she could do so then and there, forget anything else to spend the rest of the evening basking in her.
But with the lurking nuisance of a rigid schedule tugging demandingly at her attention, Jenna reluctantly kept her attention focused on bundling a bar of soap into a washcloth to methodically slide along Faith’s body, despite the shiver fingers brushing far too lightly along her inner thigh brought in turn.
Until delicate phantom touch congealed into a more solid pressure, fingers involuntarily squeezing down on the nipple they’d been teasing as Faith tensed and shuddered with Jenna bringing the showerhead’s stream evenly between her legs.
“Mm,” Jenna intoned in something between an observant hum and an aroused moan. “Enjoying that, are we?”
Jenna paused just a single heartbeat longer to savor Faith’s shaky sigh of affirmation before angling the showerhead away to rinse the suds clinging to splayed legs instead, then shift upward to continue washing away sticky sweet Bliss to dilute in pooling water.
Faith shot her an indignant look that in turn quickly faded into pleading, slant of her brow rising to soften its furrow.
“I was enjoying it,” she answered, an extra breathy huff accompanying the soft ring of her words that Jenna knew meant angry warning no matter how sweetly it was dressed up, the sharp chemical bite beneath the perfume.
Yes, she recognized it just as easily as she recognized the punishing intent buried in the teasing slide of her fingers, staying spaced at such distance so as to avoid pressing against the places she ached most.
It was what first attracted Jenna to Faith, that too gentle conniving, as candied as it was calculated. It would be ungrateful, hypocritical to allow herself to feel frustration — to feel anything but admiration — for it now.
“Well, I certainly don’t intend to keep you from enjoying yourself,” Jenna replied calmly, bending forward to just barely grind herself against Faith’s teasing hand as she set aside the showerhead and squeezed a glob of shampoo into her palm. “But unfortunately I can’t be of much assistance at the moment.”
“But don’t you want to make me feel good?” Faith questioned, pressing a line of kisses to the ridge of Jenna’s jaw, threading the fingers of her free hand into Jenna’s hair. “Don’t you want to —”
“If I only had the time,” Jenna answered, briefly intertwining their fingers in the tangle of her curls as she worked in shampoo. “But I certainly won’t be offended if you use the opportunity to take care of yourself, while we’re together. I’d quite welcome it.”
“I want you to make me feel good,” Faith amended in sing-song, finding something between arguing with Jenna and expanding on her own statement as she worked her fingers faster, still without allowing them to make proper contact. “I want —”
“A compromise, then?” Jenna replied, sliding her right leg beneath Faith’s so that she straddled the left. “Go ahead,” she said with a flex of her hips to grind upward, coaxing Faith to meet the pace. “Use me as you’d like.”
Faith gave a pouty humph of complaint, breaking into a sharp intake of breath as Jenna placed the hand not busied with working in conditioner at Faith’s hip to guide her along the length of her thigh, angling her knee upward so that the blonde slid down her leg.
“J-Jenna,” she gasped, loosening the hand in Jenna’s hair to grasp the ledge of the tub, other hand flexing to curl just barely inside Jenna with the same tense of her body.
Jenna answered with no more than a vague hum, leaning back against cool porcelain to sturdy herself as Faith rocked against her, admiring how drawn out, soft strides slowly exploring the friction offered by Jenna’s thigh gradually grew shorter, more forceful and snappy.
The rate of the heavy breaths falling against the crook of Jenna’s neck followed a similar pattern, and she indulged herself a moment to slide a thumb along the gentle dip beneath Faith’s lips to feel the heat as she lifted the washcloth to her neck.
And blessedly, the strokes of Faith’s hand kept pace, giving Jenna just enough stimulation for pleasure to crest in the backdrop as she dutifully continued the task of washing herself.
A task that was no longer completely unassisted — Faith’s spare hand reached to join Jenna’s as she dragged her washcloth down to her chest, idly caressing and rolling a nipple beneath the now deeply shriveled pads of her fingers, just enough teasing pressure to make warmth flush along Jenna’s skin, mirrored in the hot pitch of Faith’s cheek pressed against hers.
The water itself felt set to boil — logically, it should have long past grown tepid during their luxuriating soak, but as it sloshed and licked its way up Jenna’s ribs from the force of Faith’s movement it brought nothing but delicious heat she so desperately wanted to sink down into.
“How much — mm, how much longer, Jenna?” Faith panted out in a plea as melodic as it was breathless, as impatient as it was gentle. “Before you can pay attention to me?”
“There’s never a moment you don’t hold my attention,” Jenna cooed with a kiss to Faith’s shoulder. “I promise it will be undivided very soon.”
She punctuated the statement by submerging her washcloth to brush between her thighs, taking the opportunity to cover Faith’s hand with her own, guiding it to quicken, increase force.
Jenna allowed herself one more impractical indulgence — turning and craning her neck to brush her lips against Faith’s as she hiked her free leg to prop atop the tub’s ledge.
And she admittedly drew out the task of running the washcloth along the length of her leg for longer than was strictly necessary, savoring the gentle vibration of Faith’s eager moans against her mouth, the way the angle drew her tighter around lithe fingers, made her cling to the pleasure from their strokes.
And the warmth of the water soothed away any tension threatening to settle into her muscles as they clenched harder, the delicate, fluid movement of Faith’s fingers quickly conducting the symphony towards an inevitable crescendo.
Still, it took more effort than it should have to lower her leg back into the water, pull away from their kiss.
“I only have one part left to wash, love,” Jenna whispered, ragged and low. “Do you need me to finish things up for you, so I can have my leg back?”
There was an ‘mmhm’ hummed against Jenna’s jaw as lips kissed up towards the apples of her cheeks.
“Go on and say it, then. Tell me, in that lovely voice of yours,” Jenna used her last bit of calm patience to press, pulling back to admire the sight of her lover — face flushed to match the primroses petals floating in the water and clinging to her skin, bare chest heaving. “Tell me what you’d like from me.”
“I want you to touch me,” she said in layers of dreamy sighs like spun sugar melting in the water. She angled her hips towards Jenna as if to direct her attention, gentle suggestion finally sharpening itself into a proper demand. “I want you to make me cum. Now.”
It was all Jenna needed to appease, bringing her thumb to Faith’s clit without delay and brush aside damp, wispy blonde curls to stroke.
The perfectly calculated angle at perfectly calculated pressure, the familiar contours of swollen flesh she used to gauge just how near she was to the edge, the expected burn in the expected places of her flexing arm as muscle memory did its work.
Down to a science.
Pink flush painting itself in brighter blotches on Faith’s face before crawling down to spread along the slight curve of her chest, the damp glisten of her brow that was fresh beading of sweat rather than bathwater, the telltale ripple of muscles at her middle in racing buildup as the jerks of her hips grew more erratic, the increase of the subtle drumming of her pulse in the the wrists resting atop Jenna’s collarbones as nails dug into her shoulder.
And there it was — a last gentle coaxing of Jenna’s exacting touch, all it took for her lover to find that long sought release with a surrendering toss back of her head and drawn out gasp, faint twitches of her finish barely detectable reverberating against Jenna’s leg as she rode it out.
And with the rush of the accomplishment, Jenna felt the need she’d allowed to fall to the backdrop quickly reassert itself, snatching the reins of her rational senses to drive her to grind determinedly against the hand between her legs, the fingers inside her slowly returning to life to resume a light, unsteady stroke, climax weakened tremble only increasing the thrill.
A thrill so strong that pushing herself to her own finish was just as easily done — a well-timed snap forward and downward drag of her hips, the last spark she needed to saturate every hungry nerve ending into overload.
Her ears burned and whooshed with the sudden rush of blood, so full with pressure it felt as if she’d dipped her head back to submerge in water. It faded, slowly, the heat in her chest flaring to a cool rush of relief as she came down.
As Jenna began grounding herself back into her body, she found the tightness had eased from her muscles entirely, tension worked away more thoroughly than the longest and most relaxing of soaks in a hot tub could ever grant her.
Which was quite fortuitous, because with no more internal heat to dominate her senses, she could feel just how much the bathwater had chilled since they had abandoned the pretense of cleaning up.
A final pleased sigh fell past Jenna’s lips as she shifted the leg Faith straddled to slide beneath her so that she rested between them, giving her final unwashed limb a quick, lazy wipe with the washcloth tightly wadded in her fist, followed by a hurried splash to rinse before she stretched the leg forward and used a toe to pull the plug from the drain.
Then one last strain of her limbs to reach for the towel hung to the side, pulling Faith in closer as she wrapped it around them.
“Consider me thoroughly corrected,” Jenna broke the comfortable silence to muse as she pulled slightly back, pressing her forehead against Faith’s. “You proved your point about the value of bathing together.”
She trailed her gaze down to the subtle, satisfied smile curving along Faith’s lips as she brought the towel to drape over the blonde’s head.
“Oxytocin, dopamine, norepinephrine,” Jenna recited as she rubbed terry cloth against blonde locks. “And a steady stream of serotonin in the comedown,” she mused, sitting back to blot gently at her own curls. “All chemicals released in the body from orgasm. And that greatly benefit the human brain — improving mood, cognition, and productivity. An efficient use of time, in the end, all things considered.”
“And is that all?” Faith pressed, the furrow of her brow in would-be hurt betrayed by the delighted twinkle in green eyes. “What about the closeness it brings us? The human connection?” she offered. “Don’t you think there’s something more, something deeper to it than just chemicals?”
“I failed to state a crucial axiom,” Jenna replied apologetically, lifting Faith’s hand from atop her shoulder and holding it between them. “There’s nothing deeper in the world to me.”
She brought the hand to her lips, pressing a kiss just above the knuckles.
“And I don’t think anyone’s ever managed to raise my oxytocin levels as effectively as you.”
Faith shook her head as if in tired resignation, but Jenna caught the soft upward curve at the corners of her mouth in understanding, vanishing from her field of vision in the same heartbeat as she pulled Jenna back into her, tangling their limbs together and reclining.
Such a brilliant woman, so perceptive. Such a privilege, to catch those glimpses of incisive, profound understanding she would carefully dress up as she moved through the day with eyes on her, pretense slowly washed away as the world faded to nothing but they two.
Enough of a marvel that she felt justified in allowing herself to linger, to let the minutes tick away lazing with Faith snuggled at her side.
Because there really was no one who raised her oxytocin levels quite as effectively.
No one she’d rather have her brain rewired to facilitate enduring social bonding with, no one she’d rather anoint with every indication of adoring commitment in present sociocultural practice.
“I love you too, Jenna.”
More than anything, there was no one she’d rather wash the day off with.
#nsft#oc: jenna swann#otp: a neurochemical con job#writies and wordies#fun director’s commentary fact: i kept reading over jenna’s third to last line like this is so cringe i have to find a way to cut it.#it reads way too ‘guy who hasn’t had a science class in a decade trying to write a science guy’ unnatural#then dr. house said a nearly identical line in the episode playing in the background and i said. well. i guess that’s not a crime#sorry real science guys#i gave up on the title. probably something inspired will occur to me as soon as i hit post#anyways happy pride
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Kustardweek day 2 Dragon
didn't have as much time to flush this out as much as i wanted too. But the idea is at least out there, maybe someday in the future I or anyone else can make it more detailed. Still enjoy
Don't mess with Science
Chapter 1
word count: 714
Status: complete
Chapter Summary:
As they frantically tried to reverse the flow There was a loud clank flowed by smoke. Not wanting the forest to catch on fire, he sank down to his knees to yank out the batteries. The glow expanded outward along with a large burst of wind and a loud crack blowing him away from the machine.
or
Sans and Red are testing a new machine they built. A mishap turns Red into a dragon
written for Kustardweek2024
Or read below !
He looked over the equations once again. Then back at Red who was tinkering with the machine. They had teleported their latest invention outside. To the clearing in the woods away from worried humans.
He was sure Papyrus would also have something to complain about it, but at least it got him out of the house. Meeting Red had reignited his love for research and science. Their experiments went as much wrong as they did right.
But talking with someone who could understand his ramblings was so much fun. Their latest invention would allow you to share magic signatures. Letting you use magic not normally available to you. Today they were gonna do a small test run.
In the lab, they had been able to change the magic signature of a rock to ice. But plants were alive, so a step harder to crack. Just to minimize the side effects they thought taking the machine outside where it could hover above the flower they were looking to change would be better than trying and replant it hoping they would do that right. And for it to be in its natural state, there is less chance of side effects.
He checked the warning lights, and they read off the numbers as he signalled Red.
“All looks good over here”
“Same for me, think we can start?”
He double-checked his list and the position of the machine.
“Looks like we are ready”
With that, they turned the machine on. For a few minutes, everything seemed to go normally. But then the numbers on his screen started growing exponentially. Red started cruising, And a glow was starting from the flower.
As they frantically tried to reverse the flow There was a loud clank flowed by smoke. Not wanting the forest to catch on fire, he sank down to his knees to yank out the batteries. The glow expanded outward along with a large burst of wind and a loud crack blowing him away from the machine.
He got up with some difficulting coughing out the dust that he had inhaled. Only for the ground to shake, He looked up to see a giant red-coloured dragon right in front of him. Feet stomping wildly before falling over with a whine.
His eye flashed, intent to defend himself if need be. But when the dragon opened his eyes he saw the familiar eye lights of his boyfriend
“Red?”
He screamed coming closer, as the giant dragon let out a whine,
“Change me back..this feels awful”
Red's voice came from the beast's giant maw. He blinked surprised as he came to a stop beside his boyfriend.
“I mean of all the things you could look like, you look like a dragon...That's pretty cool…maybe you could even fly, certainly have the wings for it.”
There was a loud growl and he took a hurried step back
“I can feel myself breath, the fleshy organs in my gut, I have lungs…I shouldn’t have lungs! It feels awful and weird and fleshy and if I move anymore I will hurl. And if you laugh I will do it all over you”
He quickly raised his hands in a playacting gesture. Red's giant claws came to rest over his snout with an angry yet sad-sounding whine. Tail curled in close like it was trying to comfort him.
“Sorry, i really didn’t think-”
“Just shut up and fix me please”
The giant head turned away from him but then made an unhappy noise. With a sigh, and eyes slowly filling with worry he placed a gentle hand on what he supposed was the dragon's shoulder Giving a gentle but firm pet, Then after a few seconds, he decided to lean over and kiss his forehead.
“I'll do my best”
Red seemed to relax a little bit. As he walked away he could hear the quiet murmurs of
“Fuck I can feel the scales sliding over my bones, it is like having dunked them in slime”
He started reading out the machine wondering what the hell went wrong that his boyfriend turned into a dragon. He heard a panicked noise when some smoke had risen from his lover’s nose. He just knew, that it likely would take longer than he initially thought.
#undertale#kustardweek#kustardweek2024#kustardweek 2024#kustard#day 2#kustardweek 2024 day 2#prompts#noffys writing
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it's wip wednesday! hooray. my actual ongoing wip are all kind of at a point of almost doneness where i should stop sharing snippets from them, so here is a thing from the archives. no idea when i might finish this, because of all the other things.
technically, it's a soulmates au, but doesn't really get into all that until like ten pages later.
The young woman who opened the door was none of the three he expected.
"Hi," she said hesitantly, elongating the word. "Can I help you?"
"The answer to your question is entirely dependent on whether you're planning on using that," Elijah pointedly looked down at the crossbow held nonchalantly in her hand.
"Oh!" she yelped and easily swung the heavy weapon up behind her back. "That's nothing. It's...a prop! Made of Styrofoam. My friend's a drama major. No big deal."
He heard a sigh from further inside the room and the approach of bare feet in sandals. A slim, pale hand appeared from behind the door and opened it wider.
"Well, you tried," Caroline Forbes said with an exhausted tilt to her inflection. "Points for thinking fast and coming up with a solid, truth-based lie. Would've been better to avoid flashing medieval weaponry around in the hallway in the first place, but you did stick the landing." She focused her attention back on him. "I thought that sounded like a Mikaelson. Hello, Elijah."
"Miss Forbes."
"Well, at least you know each other. I'm Ivy," the other girl cheerfully introduced herself and held out her hand for him to shake.
"Did you not learn your lesson the last time?" Caroline pushed Ivy's hand down and scooted the other girl back into the room. "Don't try to make friends with supposed friends of friends who turn up out of nowhere!"
"I'm already dead, what else could happen?"
"You could always be more dead, or about a trillion other awful things. Do you want to get shot in the head? I've been shot in the head. It sucks. There. The benefit of my experience. No need to do your own research."
"I give you my word no harm will come to your," Elijah paused and then questioned, "sireling?"
"Adopted. Her sire's an idiot, but he's an idiot I inherited, and unfortunately, I'm attached to him now." She sighed and looked over her shoulder. At what, he wasn't sure. "Okay, I'm kind of on a time crunch, so you should come in. No," she commanded, pointing one stern finger at him, "shenanigans. I will be super upset if you do any heart-ripping."
Elijah solemnly traced an X on his chest and said, with gravity, "Cross my heart and hope to die."
"Oh great. More hilarious jokes." Caroline stepped back and waved him in. "You all have the worst sense of humor. Like it's seriously terrible."
Whitmore was one of the oldest universities in the American South, and a wealthy one at that. Judging by its size and appointments, Caroline's dormitory room looked as though it had originally been a common room. There was typical evidence of young women--cosmetics and jewelry, warring perfumes, several brassieres hanging over the back of a chair--but there were also stacks of old, rough-bound books and an open train case smelling strongly of a witch's tools of the trade. Spread across one of the single beds and the surrounding floor area was an incongruous array of weapons.
The other girl, Ivy, was on the floor, peering at a rectangular, carved box. "Stilettos of Suffering?" she read from the small, engraved plate on it, confused.
"Not shoes, obviously, and not cute. They're like icepick knives with a curse attached, so don't open it. Witches," Caroline shook her head and sketched out an exasperated gesture. "They say we're nasty pieces of work, but I've never wanted to liquify someone's internal organs with a single poke."
With all his family had gone through over the past year, Elijah had to agree. "Vampires do tend to be a bit more direct."
"So," Caroline said cheerfully, taking the stilettos away from Ivy and placing them back in an old footlocker with respectful precision, "I don't know what you need, but Elena had a psychotic break on witch LSD and made the incredibly constructive decision to have her memory erased and Bonnie's dead. Sort of. Maybe." She toed off her sandals next to one of the clear beds and shook a pair of black trousers out of their precise, folded square. "It's complicated. Damon's unavailable, plus he sucks, and Stefan just won the award for biggest jerk ever, and he didn’t even have his humanity off this time. Oh, and there's this stupid Traveler barrier around Mystic Falls. You stop being a vampire and then die the way you died if you cross it. So, probably don't do that. Or do, if you want to. I don't know what's in your life right now. That's between you and Jesus." She squinted at him and tilted her head. "Or maybe Thor, I guess? Because Vikings."
Elijah hummed. "I'm not in correspondence with either one, and my to do list has far too many items left undone, at present, for a suicide attempt."
"You and me both, buddy."
"And as fascinatingly convoluted as that sounds," he began, placidly watching as she tugged on snug jeans under her pretty, pink sundress, bouncing a little bit from their tight fit, "I've already located my quarry."
She froze at his congenial tone, slowly removing her hands from underneath her dress, where she had finished fastening her jeans, and looked at him in quick-dawning denial.
"Oh no," Caroline insisted, shaking her head, her thick ponytail and the late summer humidity ringlets framing her face bouncing from the force of it. "No, no, no. I have my own idiot to rescue from his poor decision-making skills. I don't have time to get sucked back into your idiot's bad choices."
"From what I understand, Miss Forbes, my idiot just so happens to be your idiot as well, and perhaps even more in need of rescue."
#the discord talked about the caroline and elijah dynamic this week#so here is my only fic that's almost entirely just the two of them#plus bonus ivy and enzo#because we were robbed of seeing caroline with two unhinged sidekicks who hate each other#elijah and caroline rescue enzo from hunters together#and have A Discussion while they do it#like a murderfluff bonding activity#klaroline wip wed
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Falling for the Mad Scribe
(Alhaitham x AFAB!Reader)
(MDNI!!! Content Warning: Possessive!Alhaitham, Bratty!Reader, Female-Anatomy, Cunninglingus/Oral, Fingering, Degrading, Praise, Bondage, Dom/Sub play, Power Dynamics)
"Ugh... Tighnari owes me a whole Forest Watcher's Choice for making me come to Sumeru City while Alhaitham owes me Sabz Meat Stew for making me attend the meeting in his stead. He knows if none of them can't stop his bluntness, then how am I to control my tongue when it comes to Grand Sage Azar or rather, anyone from the Rtawahist aside from Layla." A groan escaped from you as you flung yourself backward onto the bench outside the Scribe's office, awaiting his return since he was the only one with a key to get in.
You were just a shy and meek 3rd-year Researcher at the Akademiya of Sumeru. Your Darshan was that of Amurta: the Darshan of biology, ecology, and medicine. You were assigned to help Tighnari after the Head-Sage of your Darshan, a man named Naphis, asked you to assist him with the Forest Rangers while keeping an eye on the Withering Zones that seemed to form at random times.
Yet, Tighnari sent you to become an assistant for Alhaitham. He was last spotted by Cyno to have not been "Looking Well" and Tighnari asked you to keep an eye on him. That was 3 months ago, and this man has refused to let you go back to Gandharva Ville, stating different problems and that Tighnari has ordered your current location to be your new home for the foreseeable future.
"Hmmm, and here I thought you were best friends with those of Rtawahist Darshan?" A fellow researcher, Dana, had asked as you shook your head.
"Most of them think they are more knowledgeable than the next Researcher of any other Darshan. I mean, I understand that their research is important, all of our research journals, and the amount of effort everyone puts into it is vast."
"If I didn't know any better, I say you deeply despise the Rtawahist Darshan?" She moved closer as you moved away. You were not in the mood to deal with her crazy ideas today. She clearly had been spending too much time with the “Lord Sangemah Bay”, Dori you thought was her name.
"Despise is too loose of a word while hatred is too strong and a vastly overused word." You explained
"Have you tried Loathe or maybe Detest." a new voice caught your attention. It was like honey to your ears.
"Oh! Scribe! I apologize, I shouldn't have kept her from her duties." Dana expressed as you shook your head.
"Come on, it's not he and I are dating; I am simply his assistant while he is my senior, that's all." You laugh but fail to see a change in the atmosphere around Alhaitham. It was almost as if he was insulted and rather put-off by the conversation at hand.
"If that is the case, can you and I get lunch sometime?" Dana asked and you said you have to check your schedule. She was really your only friend in Sumeru City since you were essentially locked in the Akademiya due to the unusual hours of your work.
"If you excuse us, she has filing work to do and I need to check applications," Alhaitham growls, pulling you into the office and away from the fellow Amurta Researcher.
Once in the office, you were told to go to your "corner" and fill out the documents from Tighnari and Cyno then file the documents as Alhaitham goes into his part of the office. You were about to question him on what is up with him, as he seemed even more pissed than usual but his "office door" slammed into your face.
Okay then...you will just investigate those weird mushrooms you found on your way to work this morning after you do your tasks. As you walked back to your desk, you noticed how clean your desk was as you left it an "organized mess" (as you call it) before the meeting this morning.
You sigh and go to the office door. You could tolerate how insufferable he has been, you could handle dry humor and you could somehow deal with his demands. But messing with your desk crossed the line.
You pound on the desktop and are ignored. “If this man is ignoring his work, I WILL LOSE IT!" you inwardly expressed before knocking on the door, seeing it finally open from all your violent action on the door.
"Alhaitham! Did you mess with my desk?" You hollered as you walked into the dimly lit room before hearing the door slam behind you and you were pushed up against his vast desk. At this point, your eyes were as wide as a Ruin Guard's own optical window, you had never been so scared of him yet he also seemed to excite you for some reason.
"I read that Ovulation heats up a woman's body by as much as half a degree Fahrenheit. Before ovulation, most women run between 96 and 98 degrees F (35.5 to 36.6 degrees Celsius). Right after ovulation, body temperature goes up to around 97 to 99 degrees F (36.1 to 37.2 degrees C)." His husky voice is heard on the shell of your ear as it seems impossible to look behind you by the way he had you pushed against the desk.
"Alhaitham?! What are you doing?"
“Did you have fun? Teasing me like that?" Alhaitham whispers and for some reason, it was turning you on.
“What are you talking about? Dana is a friend, nothing more.” You rebuttal.
“That girl was not what I was referring to…I was instead speaking about the man you were haphazardly close to after the meeting you went to this morning.” He protested.
“What man ...wait, you mean Namhu? He is a junior-”
“You were close to him, teasing me in the process. Stay away from him”
"Mr. Alhaitham, I wasn't teasing. He is only a fellow researcher-"
"I also read that women have issues with pleasure in the bedroom when with another. Perhaps women can take things into their own hands, or minds, as other research has found a lack of erotic thoughts, and even negative thoughts, during sex are linked to the trouble some women have reaching orgasm. These negative or distracting thoughts fell into six categories: thoughts of a traumatic past, sexual failure, a partner's lack of affection, sexual passivity, and control, things that had no erotic nature, and body shortcomings." He growled before spanking you, surprising you. "Yet, we won't have to worry about you not being able to reach your climax; I will assure you of that."
You wanted to talk, tell him that this wasn't him. But before you could speak, he flipped you over, your chest to his. His usually cold and serious eyes had full-blown pupils and looked wild. You wanted to argue and tell him it was unprofessional until the audible sound of fabric being torn alerted you that something was clearly not going the way you were thinking. What you thought was a scare tactic, was something really horrible or really exciting, depending on who you are asking when it came to the man before you.
You realized he had torn off your clothes, he then pinned you to the desk, his lips on your neck as he growled for you to remain silent. You knew you needed to stop, that he was only feeling the effects of the mushroom you, yes you, had been studying for its possible medicinal qualities, just as the Qingxin of Liyue and Wolfhook of Mondstadt had been.
"You will be a good girl for me or do I need to teach you about Loyalty, my disobedient yet exotic Calamity." He whispers into your ears.
Part of you wanted to scold him, telling him you know what calamity means but before you could open your mouth, you felt something around your legs and looked down to see blooming vines sprout from the nearby samples you brought back from outside the city. The vines bound your hands and feet to the desk, ensuring that your escape idea proved to be null and void.
"The only things I wanna hear you say are 'Yes Sir' or 'No Sir' along with thanking me. I will make you behave one way or another for even talking to another man in my presence." Was all that muttered from him before he stole your lips with his.
Your mind went from a million miles an hour to absolutely nothing as he took control. And, without warning, his thick fingers entered your folds, causing what you thought would be a whine to stop, to come out as a cry of pleasure.
"Please...please" was all you could mutter as soon as his fingers rubbed and teased that one bundle of nerves . You had never done anything like this to your body yet, it was no denying that it felt so good; it felt right.
“Please; Please what, my little temptress? Please go faster?” He teased, moving 2 fingers now in a slow and deliberate motion. You wanted to cry but instead of the desire to run from him, it was from lust. “Such a beautiful sound from you. Moan more for me.”
As he spoke, you made the mistake of looking down. The scene before your eyes was that Alhaitham already had his pants off and, oh boy. That monster between his legs made you mentally drool. It was at least 10 inches, veiny and thick. It was standing at attention and seemed to already be leaking. Suddenly, you feel him hit a spot inside of you. You were not paying attention to him or his magical touch before suddenly feeling the pressure of being penetrated. You felt tears welling up in your eyes as he shushed you.
“Shhh, such a good calamity with a beautiful vice-like grip on my 2 fingers. I can tell you are a novice. Consider this a reward for all the good work you do.” He praises and placates you as you feel what could only be described as a euphoric high he was helping you reach. It felt so wrong because he was technically your superior but in its own way, it felt so right. Like this is why no one else attracted you until you met the smart mouthed scribe that most thought was too egotistical for his own good.
You suddenly felt something about to snap inside of you, almost like it was a too taut rope about to break under the pressure. You were trying to desperately hold back from letting it snap and you gasped as he covered your hand with his hand. He was originally holding his cock with it yet here he was intertwining his fingers with yours as the tears fell from your eyes. You looked up at him, an urgency to let something explode hitting you as he smirked.
“This will be one of many orgasms I will give you. Go ahead, cum all over my hand like the little slut you are.” He spoke darkly as the feeling of something snapping inside of you breaks and out comes a sudden rush of unfamiliar fluids. He smirks and keeps going with his fingers. You gasp again as more fluids gush out as he moves between your legs.
You go to tell him to not do that, that it is possibly unsanitary but a sudden feeling of euphoria erupts as his long hot tongue begins to lick up the fluids. It was a rush and judging by the moans he gave between your thighs, he was enjoying this too. In no time, another orgasm hit you just from the action his tongue was giving your little bundle of nerves. Despite your panting and whining, he rises and licks his lips.
“As sweet as a Zaytun Peach; just how I like my snacks.” He emphasized as he locked eyes with you as your juices dripped from his chin. It looked embarrassing but he seemed content. He then tightened the vines and smirked as he lifted his cock again, making you unconsciously drool again. “I see you like what you see. Don’t worry, little one, I will be gentle but first, I need you to provide lubrication to it.” He spoke in a husky voice.
Confusion must have been evident on your face as he lifted his own throbbing member. You went to open your mouth in an exclamation but when the tip entered your mouth; all thoughts of forming a functioning coherent sentence went out the moment he entered your mouth. It was salty and slightly musky but he did keep it trimmed so you didn’t have to worry about choking on pubic hair. He grunts and forces his member down your throat and that's when you realize he was staking his claim, not just using your saliva as his lubrication.
“I know I am being rough but I know you can take it. Besides, you run your mouth with your constant lectures to me, why not put your mouth to better use as my personal toy.” He growls and his words make something inside you excited but also a little rebellious. So, in an act of defiance, you hummed around his tip and that's when it felt better to take him deeper into your throat.
“Fuck’s sake…are you trying to kill me?” He growls and makes it damn near impossible to breathe.
“For now on, I am the only one you speak to here. None of the others or even the Sages. I am the only one you will come see, you will crave this by the time I am done.” He threatened before pulling out of your mouth and throat. You took in the air, coughing and choking on the sweet oxygen. You remembered what you wanted to ask but the look in his eyes said to focus on him and him alone.
“We’re going to get into trouble, are we?” You ask, looking up at Alhaitham as he tilts your head up and leans down. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours, his right hand caressing your face. His lips were like pillows but also seemed to have a certain spark to them. You could compare it to being shocked but also, it felt like your body was burning in the fires of Natlan while also freezing in the icy winds of Snezhnaya .
Alhaitham whispers, “You say it like you are innocent. You haven’t been innocent since the moment I laid eyes on you.” He growls. “We won’t get caught as long as you keep your voice down.” He then closes the distance between you two.
Your surroundings become blurry afterward, and you find yourself propped up on his desk. Your arms are trembling beneath you; both of your hands are planted on the wooden desk, and sweat trickles down your face and splatters on the wood below you.
“The safe word is Flower…do you understand?” He mumbled into your ear. You could only nod before he spanked your ass with such force, you were sure it would leave a mark. “Do you understand?” He repeats.
“Yes Sir” you breathed.
“Good little one” He smirks as a small whimper escapes from your lips as you shut your eyes tightly, biting down on your lips as you try to refrain from letting out a single sound. The feeling of Alhaitham’s cock sliding in your entrance makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. You then realize he had only gone in about an inch, you still had 9 more to go.
"Keep your voice down...unless you want all of the Akademiya to know how much of a slutty girl you are." He murmurs out the warning as you could feel how violent he was with your body, especially between your legs. “Besides, I told you, I am ensuring that you only think about me and I am sure that judging by the look on your face, you look ready to die of ecstasy already, my little Calamity.”
He was not wrong as you knew that if it already felt this good, you could not wait for the other 9 inches. Yet, before even a whispered word could be said, a sudden and violent thrust pushed you into the wooden desk. An audible gasp is heard from your mouth as you hold the edge of the desk.
“Going to break already-”
"Sir, harder, please" You choked out quietly as he smirks and what you thought would be a kiss turned out to be a bite, claiming you physically so others could see you were not to be flirted with.
"Such a glutton already, aren't we? I never took you for that but now, I can clearly see that I had miscalculated so much about you.” He grunts as he thrusts harder.
You were seeing stars in the dim office you both were in. The only sounds you could hear was labored breathing, the sound of skin slapping against sweating skin. You thought you were dreaming but that was until he pinned you harder to the desk.
"So, tell Tighnari that those mushrooms you found have an aphrodisiac effect and can be used as such....now, I wonder if Mr. Kaveh would miss his spare key.” He smirks after several more thrusts and then looks down at you. “Clean yourself up; you and I have work. After work though, I will bring you back home with me, make an honest woman out of you.”
By the Archons, this smug bastard will be the death of you yet you are not complaining. You just hope tonight will entail more of that sweet sweet power dynamic.
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20 Questions More
This is a deeper and more detailed version of the 20 questions for AO3 fanfic writers. Thanks to @TetsujinOtaku88 for the tag. I'm doing this #Supercorp style.
1) How do you keep getting ideas for your ship / fandom?
I think the Supercorp Fandom is pretty self-perpetuating because the canon needs to be fixed and there's lots of AUs to put them in. Plus there are so many talented people whose art, video edits, and fanfic fuel each other.
2) Which authors inspire you in your fandom, and why are they so freakishly good?
Following the answer above I think the beauty of Supercorp is that it attracts really talented creators. I love reading @searidings, @jazzfordshire's fix-its and canon-adjacent stuff, @lgbtimelords, @coffeeshib, @mycatismyeditor, and @snowydragonscave just to name a few. They have such a deftness of language and an understanding of the characters that it's hard to stop reading!
3) Aside from the characters of your main ship, who are the characters you love to write?
I really love Sam Arias, Jess, and Alex. I wish I could get a better handle on Kelly because DANSEN forever. I also have a soft spot for Eliza and a deliciously evil liking for Lillian.
4) Are there pairings or tropes you know for sure you'd never write about? Which ones?
Karamel, Lames, Top Lena, Bottom Kara. To each their own. It's just not my thing.
5) What is your writing process and why is it cursed?
Carry around a little notebook to scribble ideas, lines, sometimes whole scenes. Figure out a rough outline / structure / plot. Do unnecessary amounts of research. Open doc file. Plunge into dismay and self-doubt. Watch the show. Get frustrated. Open the doc file. Be filled with despair and self-loathing. Get a blast of inspiration and productivity. Cycle through mental instability, writer's block, and actual writing. Get dragged by Kara and Lena to unanticipated places that derails what I intended to do. Sighing and doing what the muses want. The elation of completion. Struggling with summaries and tags. Posting. Crippling anxiety and running away from AO3. Lather, rinse, repeat.
6) What is your favorite part of your writing process?
The elation of completion. The unnecessary research is fun too.
7) What’s the weirdest thing you’ve had to research for a fic?
Cherry tree mutations and the structure of yakuza organizations in modern Japan.
8) Is there a particular writing rule you struggle with (grammar, spelling, tense, reality in general)?
Different tenses in the same document. Also it's and its.
9) What was your hardest scene to write so far and why?
Describing Kara's post-PZ night terrors and Lena’s fever dreams in Deliverance. Also the action sequence at the end of that story was so difficult.
10) Have your characters ever done something you didn’t expect, changing your plot completely?
ALL THE TIME.
11) If you could converse with any of the characters, who would it be and why?
Both of them. After I come to my senses and out of a dead faint because I was meeting them at all. And then I would die of sapphication.
12) What are some of the tropes or themes that you find yourself returning to in your writing?
Oh my usual tags are: light angst, tooth-rotting fluff, friends-to-lovers, Lena needs a hug, Kara gets a hug.
13) What's your most important resource as a writer?
Talking with other writers!
14) Can you share some of your strategies for editing and revising your work?
I usually give it some time before I edit so I can have relatively fresh eyes. Spell checking, punctuation, and grammar suggestions help you catch things but NOTHING beats reading it over yourself.
15) Which is worse: making the summary, picking the tags, or the anxiety when you post your fic?
Definitely the anxiety!!!
16) How do you define sucess for your fanfic - hits? Kudos? Comments? Bookmarks? Or just if you like it?
I think it's good to track kudos and I love getting comments. But ultimately I wrote for my enjoyment or for my peace of mind because the idea would not let me go.
17) Do you have a playlist for your favorite character / ship?
Nope but that's not a bad idea. 🤔
18) If fan art was going to be made from your work, which fic would you pick and which fan artist would you like to create it?
Wow I'd be thrilled if any of them got art. I am partial to the way @rustingcat draws Sakura blossoms though so maybe Cat for No Wrong Seasons.
19) How many WIPs do you currently have?
8 total. Finishing "the Arcana", "The Sound of Veracity" (Part 2), Prequel and Smutilogue of "Always With Me, Always With You", Supercorptober 2023 "Art" prompt, SG Mayhem fic, the Telepathy/Empathy fic, the Body Swap fic.
20) What's your advice to new fanfic writers?
I posted my first Supercorp story in March 2023 feeling it would be completely lost in this large fandom and having no hope for it. I felt that I was too late. That everything had been done (and done better). I did find readers who liked and some who really loved my work. But mostly I learned to write for myself, which has truly been a gift. Write for yourself. Write what you'd want to see. You'll get better at it over time.
Tagging but no pressure: @fyonahmacnally @nottawriter @chaotic-super @luthordamnvers @fazedlight
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UGH IM A SUCKER FOR SOFT! SIMON AND I LOVE MARINE BIO/SCIENCE SO LET ME HAVE THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
There were perks and disadvantages for being a Marine science major. Some days you got to get on a small boat and travel off the coast, taking samples of corals, waters, plants. But the disadvantages were not always feeling usually, yours friends studied law or poli-si, people always wanted their thoughts on things, for advice, for job opportunities.
but for you, you sat around, during small internships at Aquariums or research labs, but a low feeling in you gut felt like you weren’t worthy. Your mind got the better of you, a lot of the time.
Simon is a special OP soldier who protects and saves. You admired him, your eyes always trained on him as he did basic things. People loved his stories, some from war, others from his time with his task force at their base. You felt as if your stories didn’t add up, the stories you thoughts were funny or interesting either made people confused or just “boring”
Boring. You hated that word, it was a jab at your feelings and goals. The word had stuck with you since you were in high school, when you showed your passions for Marine science. People thought it was cool but it was nothing they could really care about.
Simon though, his lips with turn up the second you would come home from a boat ride.
There he sat on the couch, drinking a cup of tea as he watched the TV. You half-expected him to watch an action movie or something in his interests. But his eyes were glued to a marine documentary, a note pad on his lap, little bullet notes of different things.
Your heart seized up, a warm, fuzzy feeling.
You quietly placed you bag down by the front door and slipped off your shoes and put on a pair of slippers. I walked over him, behind him as you wrapped your arms him as you nuzzled into his warm skin.
He turned around, eyes brightening as he saw you. With a move of his limbs he pulled you over the back of the couch and into his arms. His large arms held tightly onto you, His thumb rubbing circles into your back as he relished in your body.
“How was the ride?” He asked warmly, his light eyes looking at you.
“It was pretty nice, was able to see some eels and a baby octopus” You tell him as you adjust yourself to sit on his lap. He hummed in response, his face nuzzling into your neck.
“Tell me more” He says, brushing some curls out of your face so he get a better look. You smelled of salt water and rain, it made Simon happy, it smelt of you, his home.
“you wouldn’t find the rest interesting” You dryly laugh. You laugh as his eyelashes tickle your neck, he groans
“Of course I will, been watching all these documentaries you had mentioned. I can understand more of the stuff you like”
If your heart hadn’t melted yet it did just then. His deep care for you, for you field, for you passion. Your face flushed, becoming warm as you bite your cheek a little bit.
“You watched those? I mentioned like 6…they’re all like, 2 hours” You mention, a happy look across you features. He nodded “You were gone since yesterday morin’ needed to do something, plus I wanted to be able to understand all yer’ science stuff” He explains “So explain” He orders.
With a sigh you begin to explain “we were able to dive and pick up lots of waste that was flooding some of the reefs, took some samples and tested them, water is doing better, it’s becoming less acidic; which means plants are growing better so the organisms are able to struggle less and reproduce” You explain, hoy words flowing with confidence as you speak, your words not stuttering like you some times did when you explain things.
“That’s amazin’ really. I’m so proud of you hon” He praises, his words speaking truth.
you blush, his words making you feel like floating in the clouds. You look over at him and kiss his cheek. A quiet “thank you for listening to my nerd stuff”
Simon leans back and Kisses your lips, his stubble against your cheek as your lips meet each other. His minty chapstick making you squeeze you face tight, a bright difference to the the mango-coconut one you’ve used for the past three years of your life.
He chuckles at your reaction, making him gross your face and kiss you more, peppering kisses all across you face. Every mark, freckle, indent on your face he kissed, not missing a single spot. He kissed the fishing hook scar on your cheek, the healed scar being one of his favorite things of your face.
“I ever tell you I caught a big ass merlin on one of my first fishing trips?” He says.
“oh shut up no you didn’t! You fished three times in your life Simon” You laugh, not fully convinced of his words. He just hummed “Three times a charm” and slyly says.
You shut your eyes and lean against him, he rocks himself slowly, holding you softly as he rubbed your back. You felt so tired.
“You slept at all?” He asked quietly, making sure his voice is low. His words sound like warm honey. You shake your head.
“You know me, slept three hours” You say quietly. His hands keep rubbing your back, making you feel more and more tired as you yawn.
“Go to bed, I’ll carry you up” He says. You number a complaint but it was on deaf ears as he cradled you. Dispute your efforts you feel a slumber.
Your dream was a simple. Floating in the vast ocean, creatures swam over you, some came by, a seal, then a bloom of jellyfish. Your head turned and Simon was there, watching your in awe, his hand in yours.
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GUYSS
CHAP 2!!
Chapter 2 - The Spider
“No this can’t be!” - a metal leg crashes into concrete, another one against a desk, sending its contents overboard. -“No, no, no, where is it?!”- glass shatters hitting the floor, and sheets of paper scatter everywhere. Impossible! Impossible, he says! It was right there, right on his screen, a glowing dot indicating the location of his spider. His last spider, the only one that wasn’t destroyed in that “lab accident” not two days ago. Yes, “lab accident” in quotations, he refuses to believe it was fully an accident, he does not make mistakes like that! Something else must’ve been at play! Sabotage! Had to be!
No, stop. No use in thinking of that, he’s getting off track.
The spider. The spider was his only chance to recover at least something from his wrecked research. At the start of his project, he had made sure to tag every single one of his subjects, along with a tracker in case any was ever misplaced or happened to escape. Just that morning he had tracked it to Midtown High and didn’t think much before heading out to find it… and maybe he destroyed the place a bit in the process but details, details, that’s irrelevant! What’s relevant is that he was not able to find it, and when he made it back to his super secret underground lab lair hideout, – better name in the works – the tracker on the spider was gone. The bright, green, flashing dot had just vanished entirely, leaving an empty map behind.
He spends hours searching for it, looking everywhere in New York, typing in new codes in case the old one was faulty, restarting his program to see if that blasted dot appeared again. But it was no use. There were only two potential scenarios he believes could’ve been the cause of this: either the spider was dead, or somehow its tracker was damaged. However, a scientist like him would not accept a simple answer like the former, no, he knows that arachnid was out there. He stands up straight, staring daggers into the computer screen. He raises a mechanical arm holding a glass terrarium in front of his face.
“And I’m going to find that pesky spider, if my name isn’t Doctor Octopus!”
Glass shards litter the floor.
—————
“So.. you have no idea how this happened.”
Immediately, Amber lets out a very very over-the-top dramatic sigh as she throws herself face-up on the bed next to Gwanda - “No, Gwendolyn I do not know what happened, I woke up like this, no explanation to go along with this.. fabulous new bod.
Gwanda pushes Amber off the bed.
“That is not my name and you know it!”
“That’s what you’re caught up with?” - says Pete, spinning around in Amber’s desk chair - “...Ok, so, what do we know?” - he questions after a few moments - “Your hands are sticky and you’re really strong?”
“That’d be about it, yeah…” - This wasn’t going anywhere. What did she expect them to do? Just magically know what happened to her? Amber sighs again, rolling onto her stomach on her spot on the floor. She turns her face to the side, her gaze falling under her bed, when she spots it. - “Oh my god, it’s my favorite hoodie!” - She bolts up holding the piece of clothing in both of her hands - “Wow, I thought I had lost it! Hadn’t seen it since…”- A small something falls out of the hoodie, stopping Amber in her tracks. She bends back down and picks it up, wondering what it could be.
“It’s a spider.”
“No shit, captain obvious.”
“Ok, well, no need to be like that, Gweny, it was simply an observation.” - Amber snarks back. She stares at it in her hand for a bit, turning it around, and poking it at, her thoughts coming to a stop when she realizes.
“The spider.”
“Yes, we went through this, it’s a spider.”
“No, no, no, the spider, it was the spider. Remember? I felt something bite me when we were in my uncle’s classroom. It was the spider. That’s why it was on my hoodie, I took it off the second I got home and hadn’t pulled it out since. Last week this spider bit me at school.” - She rambles franticly, like she doesn’t know how to explain what’s going through her head at the moment.
“Wait” - It’s Pietro who realizes next - “Are you suggesting it’s the spider that… did this to you?”
“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly it! Think about it. I’ve felt sick ever since that day, but I haven’t left my house all week, and now my hands are sticky, and then this falls out of my hoodie. It has to be that!” - She stares back down at the spider sitting on her hand, finally realizing she doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. No but really, what do you do in this situation? They have no idea where this spider came from, or what else it could’ve done to her. Amber’s kind of freaking out, she’s not going to lie. She hears Gwanda and Pete argue over the chance of it even being true but she doesn’t care. She knows this is what happened, it makes sense in her head… in a way. Got bit by a spider and now she’s a spider mutate with freaky spider-powers. Of course.
Outside of the room, a jingle of keys in the front door’s lock can be heard. Amber’s dad just got home from work.
“Look” - Gwanda stands from her spot on the bed and takes a step towards the door - “How about we go to your dad? He’s an adult, maybe he can help ‘cause frankly, I don’t got a clue of what we could do. So let’s just- “
Her dad? No way! This is the kind of thing people keep secret, like in shows, and books, and movies. What kid’s first thought is “let’s look for the adult”?
Before Gwanda gets to finish her sentence, Amber lets out a quick “No!” and extends her arm towards Gwanda with her palm facing up and her middle and ring fingers bending towards her. She doesn’t know why she did it like that, call it a reflex or instinct maybe, but her fingers touch her palm and with a “thwip” a weird, light yellow string shoots out of a tiny hole in her wrist she hadn’t noticed before. The substance — a web maybe? —, lands on Gwanda’s hand, gluing it to the doorknob.
The room falls silent, everyone shocked. Jaws dropped all over the room.
Gwanda’s the first to snap out of it - “How the actual hell did you just do that?!?”- she whisper-yells, as to not signal Amber’s dad, because maybe now really isn’t the time.
“Bro… no tengo ni la más puta idea!” - Amber states unhelpfully.
“What do you mean you don’t know?!” - asked Gwanda as if this wasn’t also Amber’s first time dealing with this. She tries pulling her hand, but the yellow web doesn’t budge! Guess it’s official, it does, in fact, have something to do with the spider. Gwanda gives up, knowing her hand is not unsticking any time soon. She looks back at Amber, staring in silence for a few seconds, then - “Why wouldn’t you just let me tell him? Your dad is a nice dude, man.”
“¡Amber ya llegué!” - Her dad calls out from the other room, interrupting the conversation.
“Ok!”- Amber answers
“¿Están los amiguitos tuyos?”
“Sí!”
“¡Diles que se queden a comer!”
“Ok!”
The room falls silent again, and for what feels like the fiftieth time today, Amber sighs - “I know that, it’s just… you know how people treat mutates and mutants, people like… me now.”
“But your dad wouldn’t do that, you know that right?” - Gwanda insists.
“Yeah but… he’s terrible at keeping secrets. What if he slips up at work? Or tells a random barista at a café when ordering? He can’t know, he can’t, not yet at least.
They look at each other, gazing into each other’s eyes, and Gwanda gets it. This isn’t her choice to make, so she won’t. - “Ok.” - she stops before continuing - “Ok, I won’t tell him. But what now?” -
That’s the question, isn’t it? What now. Amber could just choose not to do anything. Accept her powers as part of her but just… not really do anything with them and move on with her life. She could do that, yes, but what if she could do more? She thinks this through, sitting back down on the bed. Amber looks down at her hands, tracing her thumb over the small scar-like bump on the inside of her wrist, where the webs came from. She thinks back on her uncle, on that day, on whoever did that to the school… Wait.
“Hey” - It’s quiet, barely audible. She’s still looking down, chewing the inside of her lip before looking up.
“Hmm?” - Gwanda looks away from the webs keeping her stuck to the door, she had distracted herself with it, trying to peel it off unsuccessfully. Pete looks up as well, he had also been staring at the webs Gwanda really wanted to get rid of, but not doing anything to help. They look at Amber, who, in turn, looks back at them, staying like that for a bit before finally speaking again.
‘Did they… did anyone find out who kil- destroyed the school?” - She decides not to mention her uncle, it’s not like it was a direct attack on him anyway.
“No.”- Both Gwanda and Amber turn to look at Pete - “They didn’t. They tried following him but the guy was fast. Ben has some friends at the station, says they last saw the guy running into the sewers, then they lost track of him there. There’s no security footage of him either, so he’s either really good at avoiding cameras, or he erased everything.”- While he speaks, Pietro takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the photo app - “It’s crazy, the only reason people think it might be real is cause some senior took a shitty pic of it and posted it.”- He lands on what he’s looking for and turns his phone around, showing a blurry, off-center, photo of a person with their back turned towards the camera, wearing a dingy lab coat with metal tentacles coming out of it, and that’s all you can tell from the photo.
“So he’s still out there.”- It’s said as a statement rather than a question. Amber gets this determined look in her eye, like she’s planning something. She opens her mouth to speak and-
“No” - Gwanda immediately shuts her down.
“What? I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“The answer is no.”
“But I can go after him!” - Amber stands up from her bed abruptly - “I can go after him.” - She says this like it’s a given, like there no other choice here.
“No, see, that’s why I said no, Amber, that’s stupid! Going after him? How would you even- Is there even a plan? You don’t even know where to find the guy. He destroyed the school! Sticky hands won’t save you from that!” - No, Gwanda refuses to go along with this, she already said it but it’s stupid, dangerous even. She can’t just go out there and… they’re not the X-men! Or any other superhero group! Or anything like that at all! However, this won’t stop Amber.
“Gwanda…”
“Amber.”
“No, listen to me! This- we- I, I could do something, I can help people, I can find the guy and let the police deal with him-”
“Then why not just let the police deal with him in the first place?!” - The two argue in a low voice, remembering that Amber’s dad is just a few doors away. Gwanda wishes she could walk closer to Amber and use her hands freely for emphasis, but alas she is still webbed to the doorknob.
“Because we know they wont be able to find him!”
“We don’t know that, Amber.”
“Yes we do.”
“No, we don’t. So why risk your life for someone else’s job?” - That quiets Amber, even if just for a bit. Because it’s true, it’s not her job. Gwanda, logically, is in the right.
“Because I have this power.” - And that’s the root of it all, isn’t it? It’s why the argument even started. Because she has these powers and she can do something with them so why wouldn’t she.
Gwanda doesn’t look convinced, Pietro is though. Honestly, he’s been convinced for a while, it’s why he hasn’t jumped in yet and just chose to observe from his spot in Amber’s desk chair. Gwanda looks up at the ceiling and closes her eyes, breathing deeply for just a moment before looking back down at Amber. She still has that determined look in her eye, and Gwanda knows this argument is going nowhere. There’s no convincing Amber, there’s no changing her mind, not from this. She’s going out there, either with their help or without it.
“You’re doing this either way.” - It’s not a question.
“Yeah.”
“I can’t stop you.”
“You can’t.”
“Then you’re going to need a suit”
“Wha-” Amber’s left dumbfounded, her eyes set on Gwanda. That’s it?
“Oh, fuck yeah!” - Their eyes snap towards Pietro.
#no beta read we die like amber's uncle in the first chapter#ive never written a chapter this long#i mean its not really long#just a bit over 2200 words#but ive never done one this long#so im proud of this#let me know what u guys think#if u wanna#earth 10367#gold silk#gold silk: origins#oc#amber alvarez#gwanda williams#pietro peterson#doc ock#ooo i also like doc ocks part#ive never written him before or any other existing spider-man character actually#so pls tell me if he seems right
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A World Uncovered - Heartstopper/Harry Potter - 18+: 1. A Name to Remember
AO3
Wattpad
October 19, 2024, Friday 8:39 PM
Honeydukes Treats and Sweet, Hogsmeade, Magical Highlands of Scotland
It's been a while since the school semester started. There were a lot of muggle-borns that were attending this year. Usually, when there were muggle-borns, they would be from all over the world, but there were several from Truham.
Even in Scotland, some things never change. Charlie thought he had hit the jackpot when he got the letter from Hogwarts, and then when he found out, Ben had also got the invite. He thought they could finally be out and a couple, new place, new faces... a whole world of magic and wizards.
They were trying to hide themselves from some of Ben's friends, "Just go invisible," Ben snapped. He stood in front since he was short enough to block. He looked back to see his friends looking into the window to see if that was where he was.
"I can't, and we haven't learned the disillusionment charm yet," Charlie said, annoyed, and Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. Glaring at him like he was the cause of this.
"Ben?" Harry grabbed Ben by the shoulder and turned him around, "Dude, I called your name like fifteen times," Harry said, and then he looked down at Charlie, "Uh... what are you doing with the Little Runt?"
"My name is Charlie Spring," Charlie said, speaking up for himself. He looked around to see David and Nick Nelson with him, along with a Hufflepuff girl and two Slytherins. He didn't recognize it. He looked at Ben and saw he was spiraling. "We came here to get some treats for Puffskeins. We were paired together for the Beast Assignment,"
"That isn't due until next month," the Slytherin girl said.
"Yeah, couldn't talk that stupid half-giant out of pairing me with the queer, so I told him we need to get done with this already," Ben said, and Charlie flinched at that. It wasn't exactly quiet either by the looks they received.
"Uh... easy, no need to be homophobic," Nick said despite the jabs from his friends. Charlie looked down at his feet as everyone was looking at him.
In the Muggle World, things were changing for the better for the queer community, but in some places and stubborn people's eyes, it wasn't progressing as fast enough. It was the same, if not worse, in The Wizarding World. The Minister of Magic just recognized marriage between same-sex and queer couples in 2020.
"Why, are you gay or something?" Ben shot back, and Nick rolled his eyes.
"No, I am just a decent person," Nick muttered.
"The Gryffindor's are going to have a party outside of Feldcroft. We are about to go. Come on," Harry nudged Ben.
"Yeah, okay," Ben shrugged, and Charlie sighed. They were supposed to spend the weekend camping out at one of the spots Wild Puffskeins are in to do their research. "You better have the research done by Monday, got it, Runt?"
"Do you want to come to the party?" Nick asked Charlie. The little wizard looked around, thinking he was talking to someone behind him.
"Why are you inviting the Nerd?" Harry scoffed
"Uh, yeah... no, I'm not really into parties," Charlie said, and Nick knit his brows together, looking between Ben and Charlie.
"C'mon, you're gonna make us even more late, and the upperclassmen already think we are annoying," Ben shoved at him.
Nick looked at Charlie again, taking in the emotions on his face. He saw that he had crossed his arms. That was until he was pulled by the ear to hurry up. 'Charlie Spring' was a name he wouldn't soon forget, and he definitely wouldn't forget his face... in fact, it would be most of what he could think about. Please Vote, Comment, Add to your reading list, and share with your friends:) Check out my subreddit for my writings r/QuinnLake.
AN: Hey guys, I want to go into depth about Trewlaney's Divinations. It's like a peek into future chapters, but it isn't set in stone. When she has a vision, it is in the same time frame as the chapter, but they are not in order. For Example, the vision in Chapter 1 might come true in Chapter 19, but the vision in another chapter might happen in Chapter 5.
~~~~Trewlaney's Devination~~~~
Alright, let's see what is in the tea leaves today!
Charlie had never been camping before. Every little creak outside made him flinch. The Puffskiens outside had grown attached to the two and kept rolling up against the tent for them to come out.
"Don't worry, it's just the little puffs," Nick said, reaching over to turn the light off, thinking maybe that would get the Puffskiens to leave them alone. Then Nick went back to pinning Charlie's hands above his head, lowering down to suck and kiss his neck.
Nick recently found his sweet spot: his neck. He was addicted to the sounds that Charlie made, the way he either curled into his touch or just plain went limp and let Nick press him where he wanted him. Once he saw that two of the hickeys he left on his neck and shoulder were fading, he couldn't rest until he marked him up once again.
Oh, well, it's good to know that the tall one isn't a creepy stalker closetcase after all.
#heartstopper#joe locke#kit connor#fanfic#gay#queer#lgbtqia#nick nelson#charlie spring#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#archive of our own#wattpad#alternate universe#omegaverse#omega charlie spring#alpha nick nelson#alpha beta omega#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#harry potter fanfiction#hogwarts fanfiction#crossover#crossover au#au fic
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