#they were better than me and I was a beginner so I felt bad if my art wasn’t as good as theirs

[fagbearentertainment]

Drawing animation meme YouTubers is healing my inner child fr

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

GUINEA PIG ───

jonathan crane ✧𖦹

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

pairing. switch!jonathan crane x professor!reader

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

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

word count. 6.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, “ow”. Fuck you, Crane.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 4

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: it’s my birthday, so let’s celebrate with their date 🤭

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 3

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, catching the man's attention before he gets back into the SUV. He raises an eyebrow, you smirk. "Tell James he better damn well bring flowers."

—

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out your blouse. You turn to the side to see the back of your outfit and straighten back out again.

“You’re wearing pants to a fancy date with a crime lord?” Ellie asks, judgement lacing her question. You turn and raise an eyebrow at her, crossing the room to find the loafers you planned to wear.

“Yeah. Problem?” You ask, not really caring about Ellie’s opinion of your date attire. After all, it’s really more of a business transaction than a date.

“Yes! He’s probably expecting a dress, heels! Something low cut! You’re supposed to look sexy! You,” she pauses, gesturing to your body with an exasperated hand motion, “look like a JCPenney commercial.”

You scoff, a smirk teasing your lips. “Ellie, I don’t care. First of all, I can run a hell of a lot easier in loafers than heels, in slacks than a dress. Second of all,” you pick up your handgun where it lie on your dresser and check the safety, “I can’t hide this as easily in a dress.” Once you’re satisfied the safety is on, you tuck the gun away in the back of your pants, pulling your blouse back down over it. You look in the mirror again and fiddle with the tucking.

“Should I French tuck this?”

“Yes,” Ellie says distractedly before continuing. “But, Y/N, this guy is dangerous. You should play it safe. It’s just a date, so be who he obviously wants you to be.”

You sigh, turning back around to look your sister in the eyes.

“Ellie,” you say, tone dead serious. “Why are you so afraid of him? What did he do to you?”

Ellie blanches and doesn’t say anything. You sigh again turning back around to the mirror to fiddle with your hair, making sure it’s out of your face.

“I never saw him,” Ellie says suddenly. You watch her through the mirror where she sits on your bed staring at her hands. “I never saw him,” she starts again, “but I don’t think I was important enough for him to spare me his attention.

“I was at home making dinner when his men came for me. There was knock on the door, and when I answered, they stuck a bag over my head. Next thing I knew, I was in a dank, small room. There was a mattress on the floor for me to sleep, a toilet. Nothing else. I was there for maybe two days before someone came for me. I was taken to a conference room. There was a man there. I forget his name, but he was tall. Blond. He asked if I knew why I was there, I said I did, and he asked if I had any way to repay what I owed.”

“What did you owe?”

“750,000 dollars.”

“Ellie! How do you—? What? How?” You’re shocked, unable to comprehend how your baby sister could owe anyone so much.

“I… I met this guy, Zemo. We were just friends, but he started taking me around his friends. His friends hung out in these speakeasy type clubs. They played poker and stuff. I don’t know. I usually just watched, but after a few times, they talked me into it. Told me it was easy money, and, Y/N, I needed the money! So, I played, and I was doing really well. So I kept playing long after Zemo and his buddies left. I made so much down there, but I got too cocky and I lost an all-or-nothing. I played again to try and win it back, but it was like I’d lost my mojo, like I’d been playing on beginner’s luck.”

“Ellie,” you say sympathetically.

“I was $750,000 in debt and I couldn’t pay it, but the man I’d lost to—I think he felt bad—he said I could have 72 hours to get him his money. If I didn’t get him the money in time…” She trails off and you realize you’re clenching your jaw. You consciously unclench it. Ellie takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. “He said if I didn’t get the money to him in 72 hours he would just have to find another way for me to pay him back. I don’t really know what he meant by that.

Anyway, the blond man asked if I could repay the money. I said no. He looked… sympathetic? He told me I’d have to go back to the cell until they could find use for me. I was there until they brought me home.”

You sit next to her on the bed, circling your arm around her. “Elle, I’m so sorry. I wish you’d come to me for help. I would’ve helped.”

“You don’t have that money, either. Plus, you are helping.”

“I guess.”

“What time is it?”

“6:30.”

“Are you nervous?” Ellie asks.

“I accidentally kidnapped the most powerful man in the city and threatened his life, sis. I’m not nervous at all,” you say sarcastically.

Ellie opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the ringing of your doorbell and a knock on the door. The two of you exchange a surprised look and you double check your watch: 6:34.

“He’s early,” you say, standing as you take a deep breath and try to swallow your nerves.

“Hey, you’ve got this. I know it,” Ellie reassures you, but she makes no move to follow you as you leave the room and go to make good on your end of yours and James’ bargain. You’re settling her debt and she makes no further move to support you.

You sigh as you reach the front door, swallowing your nerves and the tiny bit of resentment for your sister forming. Swinging the door open, you come face to face with the same man you had kidnapped and assaulted the day before: James Barnes.

James is looking around him when you open the door, but his attention is immediately on you as the door opens. His striking blue eyes meet yours, take in your person, and meet your eyes again. He grins.

“You look beautiful, Doll,” he says. He sounds breathless, completely blown away. You give him a questioning look, still so unsure of his motives.

“Thank you. You clean up nice. Not being tied up to a chair suits you,” you say. Your words come out funny. The ‘thank you’ sounds somewhat genuine but the compliment comes out somewhat strained, like you’re not sure you should be saying it.

James ignores your tone and lets his grin widen. He then takes a hand out from behind his back—you hadn’t even noticed his hand was behind his back—and hands you a bouquet of blue hyacinths. You just stare at them for a while as your brain attempts to catch up with your eyes.

“You actually brought flowers.”

“You threatened me again,” he teases.

“James, I…” You trail off, speechless. You wonder how you keep getting away with threatening him. Most people would be, at best, locked away, at worst, dead.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name,” he says, “is Bucky.”

You let your eyes trail from the hyacinths up to his eyes (you can’t help but notice they’re the same color), and you think that he looks shy—timid. James—Bucky—looks like he is nervous to ask you to call him by this other name.

“Bucky?” You ask, and, against your better judgment, as you ask it, you pull back your front door and step aside, inviting him into your home. He looks equally surprised you’d do such a thing, but he enters, taking a few steps into the corridor before pausing to look around and to wait on you. You close the door behind you and lead him to the kitchen where you pull out a vase for the flowers.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s—erm—a nickname. It’s what my friends call me.”

“We’re friends?” You ask skeptically.

“Well, no, but we’re going on a date. ‘James’ is just a little formal,” he says, wrinkling his nose at his own name.

You offer him a friendly smile (which surprises you). “Well, Bucky, you’re lucky I’m ready because you’re, like, half an hour early.”

Bucky has the decency to look embarrassed, but he ignores the accusation. “Well,” he says instead, “shall we go?”

You nod and follow him out to his car. Once you make it to the vehicle, Bucky opens the car door for you, carefully shutting it behind you. He takes his spot in the driver’s seat a moment later.

You let out a breathy laugh and he side eyes you as he starts the car.

“What?”

“Nothing! I just sort of expected you to have a driver. You’re just… surprising.”

He smiles at your admission. “Careful, Doll. Someone might think you like me.”

“Doubtful.”

It’s not a long drive to what is certainly a high class establishment—an establishment nicer than any you’ve been to before. Bucky gets out of the car, rushing to let you out. As you get out of the car, he offers his keys to the valet and his arm to you. You glance briefly at his arm and give him an annoyed look as you loop your arm through his.

Bucky escorts you to the double glass doors that lead to the restaurant where a doorman waits to open the door for you. You say “thank you” as you pass and Bucky gives you an unreadable look. Then, once inside the restaurant, Bucky whispers something to the host who nods and leads you towards the back and up some stairs that lead to a glass enclosed landing where two guards stand on either side of the door leading to the rooftop seating. Bucky lets go of your arm and steps forward as the male security guard mirrors him. The guard pats Bucky down, finds a handgun tucked away in a holster at his waist, takes it, and then allows him to step to the side so that you may take your turn.

Your breathing picks up ever so slightly as you watch Bucky get frisked, especially once you realize they’re going to frisk you, too. You start to worry when you realize they’re going to find a weapon on you—how is that going to play out? Will Bucky go back on his word? Will he kill you? Then, when they take away Bucky’s weapon, you remind yourself to breathe normally and regain some confidence. He brought a gun, too: he doesn’t trust you and you don’t trust him.

You step forward, making eye contact with Bucky the whole time. You hold your arms out ever so slightly as the female guard steps forward to frisk you. You raise an eyebrow—maybe you’re challenging him to do something—when the guard finds your gun and pulls it out of your waistband. She holds it up and offers you a “seriously?” look, which you see in your peripheral. You shrug at her, eyes still on Bucky. He’s smirking.

The two of you are then led by the host through the guarded door to a single table that sits on the balcony. The balcony has been well decorated with myriad plants and string lights. There’s soft music playing in the background. Bucky pulls out a chair for you and you sit, watching as he takes the seat across from you. The two of you just watch each other as the host offers you menus and promises a waiter will be with you soon. Once the host is gone, the two of you sit, watching, waiting.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” you finally say, picking up the menu. If he isn’t going to say anything, you decide, you’re going to play coy.

Bucky raises his eyebrows, letting out a laugh and looking away before returning is gaze to you.

“You brought a gun to our date,” he says.

“So did you,” you reply, still looking at the menu. “Is the chicken alfredo any good here?”

“What for?” He asks, ignoring the alfredo question.

You sigh, setting down the menu. “Why did you?”

“You held me at gunpoint the last time we met. How was I to know you wouldn’t try to finish the job?”

“I held you at gunpoint the last time we met, but I had you tied up. How was I to know you wouldn’t take the shot now that your hands aren’t tied?”

“We’re here because I already shot my shot.”

“Clever.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’ve given you every reason to.”

He laughs humorlessly. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

“Why am I here, James? Why don’t you want to hurt me? Aren’t you supposed to be some big, scary crime lord? Because you’re not living up to your name.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and looks away. You think you’ve maybe finally struck a nerve, finally gone too far.

“Have you ever once considered, Y/N, that maybe—just maybe—I’m a person, too? Did you ever think you were capable of threatening someone’s life until necessity made you?” You flinch. He notices. “I have a shitty job. I do shitty things. I do even shittier things to even shittier people. But it’s the job I was given, the job I have, and the job I do. Maybe I’m a monster, a freak, an emotionless robot, but maybe that’s just what I have to be so I don’t go crazy. At the end of the day, I’m just a man who wants to live his life, so forgive me for wanting to do that.”

Bucky is breathing erratically. He’s worked up. You stare, mouth slightly agape, surprised. You have a feeling he’s felt this way a while and never had the chance to voice it, but you also realize that your existence in his life might be more to him than just some girl who wants her sister back, some girl who extorted him.

“You actually like me,” you say, genuinely surprised.

He looks at you, eyes softening and looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got terrible taste.”

He laughs. “That so?”

“I never even introduced myself. You clearly only know my name because you know who my sister is and put two and two together. I’ve been terrible to you. I mean, I have my totally logical and understandable reasons, but I’ve been terrible.”

“That’s true, but I was holding your sister hostage. Not the best conditions. I’m sure she’s thrilled about all this.” He gestures to the table in front of you, the two of you.

“She recognizes I’m cleaning up her mess.”

Bucky looks at you, expression sad.

“Cleaning up her mess,” he repeats quietly. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, louder, more confident.

“What?”

“This date. You don’t want to be here. You’re not interested. I get it. You’re cleaning up your sister’s mess. You can just go,” he says, looking far off onto the horizon. “Don’t worry about Ellie. Her debt’s forgotten.”

You don’t move. You sit, you stare, you chew your lip, and you consider the man in front of you. You consider the handsome, powerful, sad man in front of you who—to your surprise—is genuinely interested in you. You make a decision.

You hear your chair scrape against the floor as you stand up and start to walk back towards the door. You take a few steps past Bucky, turn around, and walk back to the table. You stop right beside Bucky and hold out your hand. Bucky looks at your hand outstretched to him and trails his eyes up to you, and you watch as he carefully searches your face.

“Hi,” you say, smiling. “I’m Y/N. Mind if I join you for dinner?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin as he takes your hand, grasping it firmly as he shakes it. “Bucky,” he greets, playing along. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01

[writing-makes-me-human]

🌊Love And Guests🌊

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Aonung x reader

PART TWO: HERE

Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly

Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals 

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty.  Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.

"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.

The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.

He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.

However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.

"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.

You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.

The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.

The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.

"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.

It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.

She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.

"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.

Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.

You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.

This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.

"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.

"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.

You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.

"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.

You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.

"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.

"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.

You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.

Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.

"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.

She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.

He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.

You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.

"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.

You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.

She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.

You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.

"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.

He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.

"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.

"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.

He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.

"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.

"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.

He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.

He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.

The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.

He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.

"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.

"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.

You watched, eyes as focused as ever. 

"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.

You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.

The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.

You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.

"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.

And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.

He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.

"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.

"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.

"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.

You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.

He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.

"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.

He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.

He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.

You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.

"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.

You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.

You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.

"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.

Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.

You wanted him.

But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.

'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.

You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.

"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners, Chapter 4

on Ao3 Previous chapter

Unfortunately the real Imperial Woodpecker is thought to be extinct.

ALSO were none of you going to tell me that the beetle would be poisonous not venomous?! I made this mistake in front of Marco, smh.

Marco POV

You had to be fucking with him, right? Either that or he was being severely punished for a heinous crime in another life. Because the sight of you stripping down in front of him while he couldn’t respond was almost too much. He’d seen some of your figure before, but nothing like this. You were absolutely perfect, legs toned from all the hiking you did but also thick in all the right places. He did feel guilty - he knew you wouldn’t want him seeing you naked if you knew he was also Marco the pirate - but he couldn’t stop himself from watching. You were like a little water nymph, jumping and splashing happily in the waterfall. This was one of the times he missed swimming but he contented himself by watching you. 

“I went on a date today,” you said, breaking the silence. “It was OK, but it was with a pirate.”  Interesting, he would get to hear your perspective. It was a little strange that you would tell this to a mythical bird you befriended, but you were a unique woman. Marco decided to help himself to some of your dried pineapple, flying down from his perch.

“I hate pirates,” you said, floating on your back. Marco watched mesmerized as your breasts and hair floated freely in the water, the pertness of your nipples distracting him from your words. “They’re always trying to kill or take living creatures to sell. Always selfish. Bad tippers too.” You pulled yourself to standing, still half submerged in the water. The water cascaded off you in rivulets down your chest, and he was suddenly thirsty. 

“Is that what happened to you? Did you escape from Whitebeard’s ship?” Marco shook his head as he finally registered your question. It was endearing you wanted to help but he didn’t want his captain vilified for something he didn’t do. At least now he knew the reasons behind your passionate hatred of pirates.

“I have so many questions for you. Would you want to answer any?” you looked at him imploringly. He shook his head again. He didn’t want to get himself into any more trouble than he was already in by answering questions. Besides, he would rather hear you talk about your impressions of him. 

“Of course, I’m sorry,” you said abashedly. You pushed yourself to sit on a rock jutting out over the edge of the pool, dangling your legs in the water and your torso exposed. You started kicking your legs gently, which jiggled your breasts with every kick. It was hypnotic.

“This pirate was alright. I think he actually listened when I talked, which is different from most pirates. Well, most guys really. Most of ‘em just listen when they think it’ll get me to sleep with ‘em. But I wasn’t going to either way so he didn’t need to impress me.” Marco trilled softly to show he was paying attention. He had listened to everything you’d said today - your knowledge was fascinating and he enjoyed hearing you speak about your interests.  

You smiled warmly. “Not like you, right? You’d never do that.” Marco cooed to confirm. If his brothers ever found out he spoke to you like a bird he’d never hear the end of it. You stared off at the waterfall.

“He is very good looking though. I don’t like pirates, I didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to ‘em…” You trailed off in thought. Marco ate more of the pineapple and you looked over at him happily. You were so beautiful when you smiled at him, it felt like a warm summer breeze under a cerulean sky. At least you found him attractive, he could work with that. It would be better if you liked his personality, but at least he had a foothold. Er, talonhold. 

“Ha! I’m justifying my feelings to a phoenix. How sad is that? I hope you didn’t mind.” In response Marco came closer to you. You stopped moving and watched his slow approach. Marco stopped a few feet away from you and raised his wing. His primary feathers stopped a few inches from you. You looked at him wildly when Marco trilled.

“Are you sure?” you brought your fingertips up. Marco trilled again, quieter this time. You reached out slowly and extended your index finger to his primary feathers. You ever so gently stroked down one feather and Marco swore you shivered. You trailed your fingers down his feathers with such a light touch he could barely feel it. It felt like a whisper of a kiss on his skin and it was hard to concentrate. You were teasing him with complete innocence and it was increasing his desire to an unbearable degree. 

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you said with tears in your eyes. Marco suddenly felt guilty - he didn’t know you’d have such an emotional reaction to touching him. He could guess that you didn’t like to show your softer emotions to strangers, and definitely not while naked. He fluttered his wing and a feather trailed down in the air. He picked it up with his beak and handed it to you. You took the feather with shaking hands, clutching it tightly.

“I’ve been looking for a feather since I saw you on the island. I will never sell it. Thank you.” You bowed your head to him. Marco got the distinct feeling you’d be more upset about bowing to him than being naked in front of him. He was in trouble.

Your POV

Aside from the date stuff, which really wasn’t that bad, today was the best day of your life. You got to touch a phoenix, confirm your suspicions that it could communicate, it gave you a feather, and you’d gotten to touch a phoenix . You were walking on clouds, you couldn’t contain your happiness. After bowing to your phoenix (when had it become your phoenix?) it had flown back to the perch, peering down at you every so often. You finished up your swim and put your now dry clothes back on. It was now evening and your stomach growled loudly. 

“I’m going to make dinner. Would you like some?” you asked your phoenix. The phoenix shook its head regally, like the monarch it was. It took a little time to make dinner - you first had to gather wood and start a fire. Gathering the wood didn’t take long as you were in a forest and you assembled the kindling into a cone so it would catch fire quickly. You sorted through your pack, looking for your flintstone when you heard the sound of fire catching. Confused, you glanced back at the now blazing fire and the pleased face of your phoenix.

“Is there anything you can’t do? You really are the perfect creature,” you told the phoenix dreamily. The phoenix preened at your words, looking pleased with itself. It gently cooed at you one last time and sailed off into the night with a flap of its gorgeous blue wings. You sighed and ran the feather it had given you over your face, enjoying the sensation under the darkening evening sky.

~~~

Marco POV

Unfortunately, Marco had to leave. He had other duties to attend to and also wanted to check in on Ace. He assumed Ace would be busy until morning but the doctor in him just wanted to make sure he was at least on the mend. He flew away from you reluctantly as you watched him glide through the sky. Their days on the island were dwindling and he’d have to leave you soon. Selfishly, he’d been enjoying your worship of his phoenix form. The phoenix, though part of him, had a personality of its own. It absolutely thrived on praise and adoration. Marco didn’t think he needed it, but having you dote on him scratched an itch he hadn’t realized he had. Flying himself back to the inhabited part of the island, he soared over Etta’s house and heard Ace…doing well. He was glad Ace was no longer in pain but didn’t stick around to hear the details. 

Landing on the ship’s deck, Marco braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions from his brothers. Thatch was the first to spot him and wandered over with a shit eating grin.

“So, how was the double date?”

“Good yoi.” Ace was so far the only one who knew the full story and Marco wanted to keep it that way. 

“Where’s Ace? Had a better ending than you?” 

“Kind of, he touched that poisonous beetle. The aphrodisiac one. He’s…working it off right now.” Thatch laughed heartily and Marco smiled. Ace got into all kinds of trouble, he was young and reckless and it made for good stories. Well, for the others at least. 

“ Jozu, I owe you 50 Beri, he did touch it!” Thatch yelled across the deck, still laughing. This wasn’t their first time to the island, the rest of them knew not to touch the Peel Rhino Beetle. 

“But your date was a sour grape? It was that …friendly waitress, right?” Marco had hoped Thatch would drop it, but no such luck.

“She was nice, actually. I spent a long time with her. She’s quite knowledgeable about birds - wants to be an Ornithologist. Made for good conversation yoi.” Marco took the opportunity to leave - he had spent a few hours away and was sure there was work waiting for him back in his office. Besides, he’d be catching up with you again, and soon.

~~~

Early the next morning, Marco flew to Etta’s house, making sure to shift completely into his human form before getting close to the town. Marco wasn’t used to how long walking took - flying was so much faster. But he didn’t want to risk you seeing him in a partial transformation. His plan today was to charm you into liking him as a man, not as a bird. After all, he’d been on the Grand Line a long time, he was no stranger to attracting women. And he knew that you at least found him attractive. True, he didn’t usually have to try, but it was the thrill of the challenge. He had a few tricks he was willing to use if it endeared him to you.

After listening for a minute to see if anyone was busy , Marco knocked on the door to Etta’s house loudly. No one answered so he knocked again, louder. He finally heard someone scurrying around and the door cracked open. He saw a tired but happy looking Etta behind the door. Marco smiled at the young woman.

“Good morning yoi. How’re you and Ace doing?” Marco asked cordially.

“Ace’s sleeping now but doing better. The, uh, poison is mostly gone.” Etta finished her sentence with a blush on her cheeks. 

“Glad to hear it. I’ll leave you two be, I’m sure you need some rest.” Marco turned to go with a smile, but Etta stopped him.

“Wait, how was the rest of your date?” Marco pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure what Etta did and didn’t know.

“It ended after I brought Ace here yoi.” Etta put her hands on her hips, arms akimbo with an incredulous look on her face.

“Don’t lie. I know you’re the Phoenix she’s been seeing around the island. I’m not going to say anything, I think this might be good for her. She’s a really sweet person, just a little… guarded.” Etta explained. Marco heard Ace moaning for Etta from within the house. Etta and Marco locked eyes.

“I’ve gotta go,” Etta said, her blush returning. 

“Enjoy,” Marco said simply. Etta turned bright red and shut the door. Ah, to be young and poisoned. 

~~~

Already knowing where you were likely to be, Marco picked his way over to the waterfall. He wanted to “surprise” you and see if he could sway your opinion of him. He made his way over carefully, making sure to make enough noise to alert you to his presence. Though it wouldn’t affect him, being shot with a dart gun wouldn’t feel great either. He entered the clearing, pretending to take in the scene for the first time. He sat down on a rock near the waterfall and enjoyed the peace and quiet. 

“Marco?!” he heard you call from the other side of the pool. You didn’t look happy to see him.

“How did you find this place? Did you follow me?” you stalked up to him with a finger pointed in his direction. 

“So suspicious yoi,” Marco said without heat. He had anticipated such a reaction from you. “I checked Ace and Etta this morning to make sure they’re OK. After I thought I’d hike around the island, see what’s here.” Marco threw in the bit about your friend to hook you into conversation with him. You dropped your scowl.

“How are they doing?” you said, biting your lip. 

“Ace is better, Etta took care of him.” He saw your face heat slightly, which he found cute. 

“Anyway, I thought I would enjoy bird watching while I’m still on the island, which brought me here.”

Your POV

Your eyes narrowed, you weren’t sure if you believed him. But you couldn’t prove he had done anything wrong. Besides, it’s not like you owned the waterfall, he could go where he wanted. You considered it your special place, but it wasn’t actually yours. You had been drawing the phoenix feather in great detail when he’d come up to your camping area. You’d moved the feather for safety but your sketches were still out and you wanted to go hide them from his prying eyes. You turned to move back to your belongings when you spotted an Imperial woodpecker in a nearby tree.

“Marco,” you whispered, not moving “look over there.” If he liked birds, he might enjoy this rare treat. If he didn’t ask you to sell it, that is.

“Nice, yoi. Imperial woodpecker.” Marco whistled an incredibly accurate bird call to it, causing it to chirp back. You listened to the two of them singing back and forth until the woodpecker decided to fly off. Two points to the pirate - he correctly identified the bird at first glance and you’d never heard such a good birdcall before.

“That’s a good skill to have,” you remarked casually. He didn’t need to know how impressed you were. Marco shrugged.

“Birds like me yoi. I’m hoping we’ll see some uncommon species today.”

“What do you mean, we? ” He wasn’t planning on tagging along with you again, was he? Just as you were about to tell him off, the Imperial woodpecker returned with a mate and chick. Your mouth dropped - you just had to draw this. You’d never seen a family unit of Imperials together before - they were said to mate for life. It almost looked like the male and female were showing off their young, but why? You slowly grabbed your notebook and pencils, sketching on the clean opposite page. You drew the family unit from various angles until they flew away once more. As you were putting the finishing touches on your sketches, you felt Marco peering over your shoulder.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, crushing the notebook to your chest. “I told you, they’re private!”

“You really are very good,” Marco complimented you. “What was that bird on the opposite page? It looked interesting.”

“None of your business.” He was a nosy guy, for a pirate. You hoped he hadn’t seen too many of your phoenix drawings. You’d expanded on the real life sketches you’d had and were now drawing the phoenix in different positions, some of which were kind of funny. You had drawn the phoenix next to you under the waterfall, annoyed about being drenched with water, steam rising from its non-fiery head. It was childish but made you laugh.

You assessed the situation - Marco was tolerable enough, had a talent for bird calling, and wasn’t terrible looking. Maybe it would be OK if you spent another few hours with him. You didn’t need to become mates for life, after all. 

“We can go bird watching together, I’ll show you some hot spots. But don’t look at my drawings again.” You’d never extended an invitation like this to a man before, you hoped he felt special.

“It’s a date yoi,” Marco said, smiling. 

~~~

You’d had an unbelievably successful day bird watching with Marco. They almost seemed drawn to him, warbling and chirping to his astounding calls. Bird songs filled the air no matter where you went on the island. You wished there was some way for you to record the sounds, but the closest you could get was Marco’s ability to mimic them. You were elated - you were thankful for whatever weather was bringing all these birds to the island and to your sight. You were so happy that you were actually being friendly with Marco. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about birding, despite his protests that he wasn’t a professional. He had a dry sense of humor, matching your own, and had even made you laugh a few times. It might have been your favorite date you’d ever been on. You even showed him some of your sketches of birds, not the phoenix of course, but some of the birds you’d seen together. He asked to keep one, and you wavered.

“I don’t give these out, they’re-”

“Private, I know yoi. It's OK, I’m not offended.” 

You were feeling generous and Marco was looking gorgeous. “Hold still for a moment,” you ordered, taking out your pencils. You did a rough sketch of Marco as a bird, complete with fluff on his head and glasses. Just something silly as a thanks for such a good day together. You ripped off the page and handed it to him. Marco looked at it, then at you.

“Are you sure …never mind.” Marco started to say something but stopped midway.

“You don’t like it? I’m sorry, it was just for fun.” You were feeling self conscious, you didn’t show your drawings often.

“No, I like it a lot yoi. But isn’t it missing something?” Marco said, looking down at the paper.

“Hm, I don’t think so, let me see.” You crossed over to him, standing shoulder to shoulder. You glanced down at the drawing. 

“Nope, got your glasses, your hair, your half open eyes and even the tassel on your leg. Got everything,” you teased. You were close together, examining the paper. If you turned your head, you’d be face to face. You were breathing quickly from the close proximity.

“It’s missing your signature, so when you become a famous scientist I have your autograph.” You smiled, what a charmer. You turned to face Marco.

“I can give you something other than my signature.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

[libraford]

Photo studio is on my mind because this is when school starts gearing up again.

Yes, I was a little argumentative because when instructions are given to me in a confusing or inconsistent manner, I push back. Because it is often that my memory is my worst enemy, so when I am in the habit of writing things down and double checking my notes to make sure- it is somewhat crazy-making to be told that both my memory and my guiding resources are incorrect.

But I also got push-back: not only when I asked for accommodations for my memory problems, but when I suggested that I could make my own accommodations where none were available to me.

"If you think that I require more guidance, then I think it's not a bad idea to have me come in with the beginners to brush up on training week" was met with "No returning photographers ever come back for training- it's just not done." "But things change every season, and we'll be having a whole new system soon- I don't want to be working with outdated info." "Nothing has changed in the ten years I've been here!" "They changed the starting light settings just last year." "No, that was before you worked here." "Obviously it was not."

"You need to be better about taking criticism. You always seem to fight back during reviews." "I find some of the critique and training suggestions to be lacking in tact." "I will tell the supervisor to provide more concise criticism." "Tactful...I asked for tact."

"Some of the photographers are unhappy about their pay rate and I think a cost of living increase might encourage people to stay." "You're the highest paid non-salary in the company- why are you asking for a raise?" "...I was asking it on their behalf." "Well, they can ask me themselves." "They felt more comfortable asking me." "Why wouldn't they ask me themselves?" "You see how this conversation is going so far."

"If your problem isn't about the quality of the photos but the fact that I go too fast, then maybe I should have a minute timer to make sure I'm giving them the full 60 seconds." "No, do not put yourself on a timer." "Why not?" "You should know how to use the full minute properly by now and shouldn't need a timer." "I have time-blindness. Youre saying I can't self-advocate?" "That's not what I said." "Then how can I make sure we're going at the proper pace without a cue to help me know how much time has passed?" "You should know how long a minute is by now."

"If I could just do candids, I think I'd be happy." "Well, we can't have a person who just does candids, that position doesn't exist." "The district I subbed for last spring has a candids person." "Well, they're not supposed to." (And then I threaten to quit.) "What if we took you put of schools and had you just do candids?"

So it's like... yeah, I argue. Because I'm making reasonable requests, that would help me be more compliant, and am being told that they can't be made... or having words get put in my mouth.

That and the comments about my appearance. That I wear inappropriate clothes (the uniform is cut for a different body type than mine.) Sometimes people can see my belly button. People commenting on my body. Parents who never even SEE me commenting that my 'bare midriff' is inappropriate for a school setting. People claiming that I smell bad (a comment usually given to fat people, as if I haven't smelled sweat, urine, or menstrual smell coming from school employees and students.)

All of this is just emotional outgassing. The candids position will have me in minimal contact with the company. I get my assignment, I go to assignment, I do assignment, I upload work to the cloud. If she gives me equipment, it's fucking over.

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Six (Loki x fem! Reader, A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Series Summary: Inspired by A Court of Thorns and Roses with the Tom Hiddleston characters. As you lay dying of consumption, You make a deal with Loki to heal you in exchange for staying with him every month. You are whisked to a world full of magic...and danger.

Chapter Summary: You and your band of Loki and his variants travel to Jotunheim to see the Prophet for a clue about defeating Grendel, but you receive an unexpected warning about your old friend from home...

Warnings: Some angst and hurt/comfort. Loki being a cheeky lil shit. Mentions of sex, cheating, and a suicide attempt. Some spicy sparring tension. Me being bitter about the canon events of The Essex Serpent and it shows.

Word Count: 6K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @thrut

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four//Chapter Five

A/N: Happy Loki release day to all who observe! I hope you likeit!

“Hm- I think we should try each other. But…ladies first. Y/N, let’s see if you have truly improved,” Loki asked that day in training.

It was only your second week since you chose to stay here. Every day, training continued for two hours. You had now only picked up the basics of sword fighting.

You gripped your practice sword in your hand. It was technically not a sword yet- it was still a wooden pole with the weight of a sword. Better than having everyone being chopped into bits- and you were still a beginner. You nodded.

“Alright- then try me,” you replied.

Hal stood, arms crossed to watch. Thomas took out a pocket watch to keep track of the time.

“It will be three minutes- beginning- now!”

Loki charged up to you with the dulled practice sword. You took up yours as the blades touched.

Clang! He took it back to try to swipe you at the side, you tapped his- clang! Jonathan wiped off his sweat with a towel but kept an eye there to you both. Robert only crossed his arms and sat, but his eyes were steady.

“Not bad, Y/N darling.”

“Quit calling me that!” you barked. You took a sword to him, but with you exposed, he tapped your leg.

“Ah-ah! You just exposed yourself there- Y/N. Isn’t that better? Just Y/N.”

You tried to turn around quickly to get his other side, but he charged forward. You tripped on your feet and fell on your back.

“Two minutes!” Thomas announced with the pocket watch.

He gently traced the blade of the pole over your neck. You felt your heart beat fast at its touch- like that of a finger. Your muscles ached so badly they screamed at you. You had trained hard for an hour and a half and you were feeling it everywhere. And you were tired-you dreaded going to sleep and it was tougher to fall and stay asleep. You kept having that odd dream about the boat, the boy, the water, and the white hand.

“Are you going to give up that easily on the battlefield?” Loki asked, arching a brow.

“No! I just..I…”

‘Hmm, you need some motivation- when you are there in a fight, you must not give up. You have to continue to the end…” the god said. 

“I’m just…I’m…I’m tired…” you confessed.

He knelt down with a smile. His blade right over your stomach. Then he leaned down his head, sending a thought of his right into your mind to where you heard his voice clear as a bell. All with that blasted smirk on his face.

“Your breasts felt nice and soft when I was a cat.”

Enraged, you gave him a swift kick in the stomach. He fell forward, as you scrambled back up, got your sword, and put it against his throat.

“Hmmm- not bad, but you forget-I’m armed too-”

His pole whacked you on your feet. You fell from the surprise and realized you fell on top of him. He was-close. So close. Your noses, your lips, inches away. You took in the blue of his eyes, the ivory color of his skin. Both of you panting hard. Where your arms fell- it was like an embrace. Embarrassment flooded you. For all of them to see you both in such a…position. You stared at him dumbfounded, frozen with surprise. His shirt, his body, hot and flushed with exercise felt solid against yours. And there was something stirring inside you to touch him. Something you didn’t know. Something you didn’t want to say. Something you never dared explore, dared taste. 

You pulled yourself off, feeling the cool air of the outside over your skin enflamed with excercise and the accidental intimacy. You propped yourself up as did Loki. 

Thomas finally announced “Time!” as he closed the pocket watch. Loki used his seidr to wipe off the dust from his clothes and dry the sweat. He tilted his head at you.

“Well, Y/N, you need a little more practice…but you are far from bad,” he said.

Your muscles relaxed after being so tense that whole time. 

“That’s a compliment on your terms-Thank you.” you replied

You turned to the other gentlemen. Then Loki walked up to them. He looked at all of them, his expression hardening. 

“We shouldn’t wait for the ceremony of the heir to see him.” he announced.

“How come?” Jonathan asked, squinting his eyes.

“It’s a royal ceremony…no matter what happens or who is named, I will be there. It will be impossible to slip out without suspicion.”

Prince Hal gave a confused look.

“Just use your own privilege to let you through!”

Jonathan put a hand in front of him.

“He has a point…and every minute we hesitate, we wait- Grendel might gain a new ally. Attack a new place. A new life could be threatened…”

“Then…this place the prophet is in-will there be enemies there?” you asked.

“Only the Frost Giants. They only attack you if you attack them-they tried an invasion some odd thousands of years ago…but…”

A light in Loki’s eyes dimmed.

“But no- they aren’t to be-be…slaughtered…:

“If Grendel has no allies with them, he has no allies with them- and we will need to go. Prepare an offering for this prophet and go,” you nodded.

Thomas tucked the pocket watch into his pocket.

“I hear it’s very cold…I only hope the rest of you are as used to it as I am.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The land of the Frost Giants indeed. How cold it was! All of you wrapped up warmly. Jonathan and Robert in big, puffy coats and gloves. Robert clutched a case with his fists despite his chattering teeth. Jonathan only wore a determined frown. Thomas in his thickest cape and gloves. Hal shivered beneath his black cloak. And You shivered so bad even in your muff and heavy coat and knit scarf bundled before your face. Only Loki was in his normal clothes, going about perfectly fine. It was probably the godhood in him. You stepped through thick snow, the wind cutting at you as it hit you at an angle and the snowflakes hit you less like a gentle kiss and more like an angry pelt of tiny stones. 

“Here! His cave is here!” Loki pointed out to the cave. “I know it is- follow me!”

All of you trudged forward. Though it was still cold and you saw your breaths in the air. There wasn’t sleet or wind here. Your steps echoed.

Thomas brought out candles from his coat pocket and Robert lit them with his cigarette lighter.

“Alright- get it ready…” Thomas guided.

Robert nodded. He got out the case- sure enough, a whole roast chicken was there—warm and delicious smelling. If you hadn’t eaten right before, you would have been tempted to have a bite. Then Loki used his magic- there was blue light around. Then with another flick of his hand, he made the platter of chicken float in the air. 

“We are here…we have questions to ask you,” he announced, the sound echoing down.

Out walked the Jotun prophet. Your breath hitched as you took in his appearance. His blue skin and red eyes looked on you- his hair white and long with a little beard. Then his long, thin nostrils sniffed.

He looked down. Then walked forward to Loki. 

“Ah…a gift…” he said with a gentle, airy voice. He licked his lips. 

“Hmmm…delicious. Full of spices- expensive one. It’s must be from the Asgard palace…”

“Yes, it is,” Loki confirmed.

The Prophet smiled, then he lifted a hand and grazed Loki’s cheek. To your shock, the gods skin turned blue and his eyes red. Everyone paused, looking at each other. Your jaw was near the floor and you placed a hand over it. Loki was stiff, but his now red eyes hard. 

“A son from our kind for a dinner from Asgard. A fair trade, is it not?”

Loki said nothing. The Prophet released his hand and Loki’s appearance returned to normal.  

“Oh…but I must get through this before my dinner…what do you ask of me?” he questioned.

“Good sir, Tell us about Grendel…where is he? How do we defeat him?” Hal pressed. “We made our offer. And we have more- tell us where Grendel is!”

The Jotun Prophet continued to speak in his calm, wispy voice.

“Grendel hides. His mother sends out the armies. But they are everywhere. They perch in trees like ravens. Amble down the pathways. He has many camps-camps in every world. Even Midgard. Always in their camps and disguises. In their marks on trees, onthe ground… Grendel himself…is in deep hiding. For he has something precious…priceless…”

“Which is?” Thomas pressed. All of you leaned forward. The Jotun prophet kept a smile- the dealer of cards.

“A cauldron…” he announced.

“A cauldron?!” Robert gasped.

The Prophet nodded.

“A cauldron…of deep magic, deep power. Whoever touches it, drinks from it. They are renewed. It is old magic and new magic. 

“So this cauldron is the key to his strength?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes…if it is destroyed, he will be too- as simple as a blade will defeat Grendel and his conquest…” The Prophet confirmed.

The wind whistled outside. You shivered further into your coat. The Prophet gave you another look- his red eyes right into yours. He only kept smiling and then turned back to Loki as the God of Mischief spoke.

“But Grendel leaves no trail…” he argued. 

“Yes, little prince… he guards his cauldron like a hen guards her eggs…but the cauldron does leave a trail…and it is hidden…stowed somewhere safe…” he said.

The Prophet held out a hand and twirled his little finger- you saw bits of blue magic twirl around it. It formed a cauldron that spiraled on his fingertip in blue mist.

“It is said…there is a special spell…when a dagger is blessed with it…and the magic from that dagger neutralizes it…then, and only then, shall Grendel be vulnerable…”

The cauldron disappeared into air.

“Then, that’s it! That’s how we defeat him- find and destroy the cauldron!” you cheered.

The Prophet’s red gaze turned to you. His voice did not change or raise in its tone.

“His spies report everything they hear. Including that of mortals in the Asgard palace…It’s a wonder he’s so interested in you-”

“Me?!” you cried.

The Prophet nodded.

“He’s heard of you- the mortal girl saved from death. The bargain from the god…and they say- now that magic has touched you, been inside you, it won’t leave. Hearing thoughts, strange dreams…and there soon will be others in time- so no wonder Grendel is curious about you, Mortal lady…”

You felt your stomach twist and could hear your heart pick up. You remained frozen and the cold had nothing to do with it. He sighed through his nose. As the plate with the chicken floated, he tore off a bit of skin and ate it.

“A pity about your priest…you loved deeply. But he was not your True Love-so it could not be….”

“True love? Do you mean Will?” you asked.

“What do you mean about ‘True Love?’” Thomas asked curiously. Loki stayed where he was, his eyes wide.

“Yes- the True Love. The Great Love. When Fate binds you forever to that person- and the great love you feel for them can never be broken- but only when both return it. It is special. It is rare. You can never think of, never dream of betrayal, of harm-the person you were meant to be with. When both are destined to it by all the gods- that they were meant to find each other, and to be together…take comfort in that fact…”

He dug in, found a little bit of white meat. He took a bite, licking his fingers. Then he spoke on.

“How strange you are here…it wasn’t supposed to be you…”

“How come!? I am me!” you asked.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with Grendel…” Jonathan wondered.

“No- there might be a clue…”

“Hmmm, you were an alternate universe…of what should happen…of this other timeline…“But it seems, your existence, your birth, shook things up…now there are two timelines supposed to happen…” he said.

You stepped forward, desperate.

“What is supposed to happen?” you asked.

“You see…in this other timeline…you are not there…the threat of this False Serpent was supposed to happen…years later…oh- and she…The Lady of the Stars…. Fond of things that are blue…”

“Why- that’s Stella! My sweet Stella! She’s my friend!” you gasped.

“Yes- with her tender heart. Her gossiping mouth. She has a role there- an important one. A fitting one for her.  For she knows all and speaks to all…”

“Oh, Stella could befriend Ebeneezer Scrooge himself if she wanted to!” you cried.

“Pray tell, Who is he?” Hal asked.

“Is he some warrior or prince of Midgard?” Loki seconded. 

“We’ll tell you later,” Robert said, stifling a small laugh.

“The Lady of Stars, The Lady of Blue…should you not have been there, Y/N- it is she who is the bride for the priest….”

“What?! Stella…. Married to…to Will?!”

How both fitting and odd it felt to you. But married to Will of all people. She would never complain under his thumb. She never complained about anything. You recalled looking at her small hands as she would arrange and organize her belongings. Though she was slightly tall, her hands were tiny. Oh- how easily his big hands would crush hers! 

“Their marriage is..idealistic. Deeply loving. Strong. They love each other so much. There are….children…two of them die, but three survive…at night, they hold each other, skin to skin…they love each other- it is a deep, strong connection…”

“Are they supposed to be each other’s True Love?” you asked.

The Prophet paused. His smile never leaving his face- a dealer who knew everyone’s cards before they set them down.

“No…” he said.

“No?” you repeated.

“The True Love is so sacred, one cannot imagine another taking their place. Their desire, their adoration, is all consuming- they crave no other…one would think the Star Lady’s marriage would be that…it appears like that…and it will appear like that for fourteen years…until…”

“Until?” Loki commented, squinting his eyes. The others looked genuinely confused.

“The Serpent arrives…rather, it’s threat…It was supposed to wait…fourteen years later….when the widow arrives…”

You felt your stomach drop.

“No matter what, whoever was the priest's wife was bound to suffer, for the widow is too much for him to resist…”

“Is Cora Will’s true love?” you asked curiously.

“Strangely...no…” the prophet said.

“No? How come?” this time it was Loki who was parroting.

“The Priest shall never find his true love for his heart is never settled, never on one…for the Star Lady is the Wife of Perfection. Beautiful. Proper. Sweet. Child-Bearing. And she claims it is better her husband is happy, says how she holds no jealousy…caring only for his happiness and peace than hers…”

You let a free hand fall from the one holding your lit candle and dropped it into a fist. No….Stella happily married…only be betrayed as you were!

“But that doesnt make what he did right!? Why should it be?!” you cried. “It says far more about Will to decide to betray her than it does about her! And prophet- where is her lover?”

“Pardon?” he asked gently.

“If Will can take a lover, she can too! We all thought her the real beauty of the town…where is her lover then? Some soldier writing her letters!? A duke rake falling on his knees before her! A baronet dancing with her-Thomas! Why can’t we send him!? So she has a handsome baronet in black as her lover?!” you cried.

Eyes turned to Thomas. And there was a a nervous chuckle from him. Only Jonathan kept looking at the prophet, never glancing at anyone else, but listening. The Prophet shook his head.

“No. She is a good and faithful wife-”

You stepped forward, interrupting.

“Why is it Stella must remain a faithful, dutiful wife and Will is the one free to do as he pleases without consequence?!”

The Prophet gave no answer. But he kept his smile on, and it made you sick inside. 

“Her fate is to smile and say all is well…as her husband freely takes the widow in fields and pleasures her against trees as the blue lady coughs out blood…”

You felt nauseous again. Then it struck you.

“It was…Stella…who was supposed to have consumption?”

“Yes, dear child…and it was Stella who was supposed to take the widow’s son…go to the beach…bring her collection…”

Suddenly, you didn’t like where this was going. Yet you said.

“Then…then what happens…why are they at the beach?” you asked. It was similar…too similar. The flowers and bottles from your dream- they were blue trinkets! It was her collection! And that meant…was your dream of…of…

“She will say…she is going to meet him…but we all know…the real reason why…”

You felt the blood drain out of you.

“No- no, no, no, please prophet!” you begged.

“The widow’s son finds a boat…gathers her things inside…she goes in the boat…”

“No-stop there!” you begged. 

 But he did not stop.

“He pushes the boat…out to the sea where it floats to the middle…”

“No-prophet- please-”

“And with a smile, she drowns herself for her husband and his mistress like a good girl”

“NO, STELLA!!” you screamed. 

You lurched forward- Jonathan held your arms back. Then you collapsed. On your hands and knees, tears pouring out of you. You clasped a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my god…Stella…poor Stella…” Tears poured out. “She’s going to die…kill herself…kill herself, Stella-”

Loki went over, he hugged you and you nestled into him. You shook so hard. 

“Oh- fear not, Mortal woman! She doesn’t die!” The Prophet consoled you.

You turned up.

“The Priest - drags her out of the sea in time. In time for her to live- for her slow eventual death so he can run back to his widow’s arms. He’s quite a devoted husband…”

“Fuck him!” you shouted impulsively. 

You grabbed a rock and threw it on the cave wall in fury, imagining it was your old fiances's skull smashed into bits. Guts and bones spewing out. The Lusty Vicar as a Not Very Lusty-looking corpse. You turned to the prophet. 

“And this happens to Stella…is this what is going to happen or what might happen?” you asked.

“It happens once she marries him- not in that order- but when she vows herself to him, her fate is sealed…”

You put a hand over your mouth. You turned around, eyes down to the floor. You heard Hal close the case.

“Where can we find out about the spell- the dagger?” Hal asked.

“It must be a newly made one…and for the spell…it’s a book…why-in Vanaheim! The god of mischief must go to Vanaheim…” The Prophet answered.

“Then…that is where we shall go…” Thomas agreed, looking at each other.

“Well…I’ve said enough…I have a dinner to enjoy…you know where to seek me…goodbye…” he said.

The floating plate beside him, he vanished back into the cave’s darkness. But you still knelt down, crying so hard. You wished you could rejoice in finding out a key to Grendel’s defeat. But your mind was reeling. 

“Stella…oh, Stella….Oh god! What have I done? If I stayed engaged to him…he would have…he wouldn’t have anything to do with her…now…he’s free! He’s going to propose to her! And this is going to happen!”

Loki laid a hand on her shoulder. You heard Hal step forward.

“This was the maid?” the medieval prince asked.

“Stella…sweet Stella…she doesn’t deserve this…she deserves a prince, a knight in shining armor- not…not…not him….”

Fury consumed you.

“Fuck William and Fuck Cora too! If William even LOOKS at her, I SWEAR I will kill him! I’m going to kill him- and I’m going to kill Cora, too! I’m going to stab her and rip her limbs apart, That Bitch-”

Jonathan went forward, another protective hand before you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you found out about this- but-but pacing and talking will not solve anything,” Jonathan reasoned. 

You interrupted in your raging. Loki lowered Jonathan’s hand with a pleading look. Letting you rage on, get it out of you. You clutched your fists before you. 

“I will kill them- both of them! I’ll-I’ll take his green Sunday sash- and I’ll hang him in the church! No- better- I’ll hang them toghether! No, I’ll- I’ll take a real dagger and-and-and-and stab them a hundred times each! I shall- I shall I..for Stella…poor Stella…”

Loki embraced you again as you continued crying. Once you calmed down, you looked up at him.

“Jonathan is right. Talking won’t help anything. We have to go back…Just a little…”

“To Midgard?! Your time?!” Loki asked.

“We have to go! I have to go! I have to see her- speak to her-Stella! I cannot delay! I have to go back to Aldwinter!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All of you arrived to the small Essex town immediately after. You landed in between two of the houses. How little anything had changed. The houses were still all white, the ground dark and dirty, and the sky grey and overcast even in Spring. You were back in your blue day dress. Loki had donned a dark bowler hat, a rich green waistcoat, and a dark coat. Thomas blended in perfectly in his black coat and suit and top hat. The other gentlemen had to adapt in order to fit into the time. Hal in his red waistcoat, Jonathan in his blue, and Robert in his grey. It would be a sight for a medieval prince in a red leather jacket and a dagger to waltz down the street. 

Yet…it was a street you hesitated to walk down. The others followed suit, yet you stayed. You leaned against the wall, barely peeking out. Checking to make sure to avoid a certain ex-fiancee. 

“Is there a…a…a man with a goatee and a green scarf out?” you asked.

Robert looked around freely and then shook his head. Very few people were out and about today. 

“No, the coast is clear.” he announced. 

Out you came. Walking staunchly, hurriedly, to Stella’s home. You had been there so many times you led the way with the few men at your heels.

You went up and knocked. Immediately there was Stella’s mother that answered. She let out a gasp.

“What! Miss Y/N! You’ve returned! What are you doing- is that-who are these men? And is that-is that Loki?” she asked. Though a twinge of disgust at the last word colored her voice. Loki only smirked and gave a little theatrical bow in response. 

“Mrs. Harris! Yes, I’m back to visit! The gentlemen are just my companions- they’re fine. Yes, I am safe and unharmed. Where is Stella!?” you asked.

“Why- she’s in her room! But please! These are guests! Let me make them comfortable!” Mrs. Harris insisted. Then she turned the corner and yelled out.

“Stella! Y/N is here! She’s brought guests! Make yourself presentable and make haste down!”

You heard Stella gasp in response from her room and the scurry of footsteps from the house. 

She led all of you inside the house. The five tall, broad men squished together on the couches and chairs. Pots of tea and teacups were brought out.

Then Stella finally emerged. Still in her blue, and adjusting her blonde braid to as she smoothed out a few hairs. As she went out, her lips with her rich, full lips dropped and she let out a gasp, then held her hands over her mouth.

“Y/N! Y/N…is that…is that you?!” she cried. 

You ran forth and hugged her and she hugged you back.

“Yes, Stella…Stella, I’m here…”

She turned around, her blue eyes wide at the men. 

“Dear Heavens! Guests! I have hazelnut biscuits to go with tea- made them this morning! Here- let me fetch them!”

She ran to the kitchen and offered plates of two biscuits for the god and his variants. 

 You felt Mrs. Harris look at the five men with eyes like the local rector. But she made no comment. 

“Mrs. Harris, Miss Harris, I should introduce you to them. They are my friends. You are familiar with Loki already,” you began

Jonathan picked up a biscuit and took a careful bite. Robert was working on his second one and Hal sniffed curiously at the tea before he took a sip. Thomas held his tea and smiled and sipped like a duck brought back to gliding on water. 

Stella looked at Hal as he dropped a cube of sugar into the teacup.

“Are you the gentleman that… spoke with me?” she asked.

“Ah, you are the maid! Very well and fair, thank you my lady,” Hal replied.

“Yes, they are!” You began. “Oh, Mrs. Harris, Stella- let me introduce you quickly- This is Loki, Doctor Laing, Uh- Mr. Lancaster, Sir Sharpe, and Mr. Pine.”

Sir Sharpe stood up made a small bow and a smiled at her. Robert wiped the crumbs off his pants. The others followed suit.

“ I hope the tea and biscuits are to your liking- I made them. They’re not my best, I admit,” Stella said.

“This drink you call ‘tea’ is rather good,” Hal said. He put up a biscuit. “As are these.”

“Perhaps you could teach Y/N the recipe!” Robert joked.

Jonathan softened his gaze- yet he seemed almost frozen. Then he nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, you are an excellent hostess, Miss Harris,” he said warmly.

You then emerged from your seat and grabbed Stella’s hand.

“Mrs. Harris, may I talk to Stella privately?” you asked.

“Why of course,” she answered.

Stella looked astonished as you practically dragged her and went with her back to her room. The wallpaper and little blue pillows and cushions. There was a writing desk- but you saw no letters. She wouldn’t be writing to him directly unless they were engaged-that gave you a little relief. You sat her down on her chair but remained standing. 

“Y/N- what is going on?” she asked.

“Stella- tell me- have you received any marriage proposals- any?” you asked desperately.

She shook her yellow head.

“No! No I…I haven’t…I promise you, if I had, I’d tell you! but Y/N…the last time I saw you, you had fainted! What were you doing in the woods?

“I have to tell you something-”

Stella’s jaw tightened and she leaned forward in her seat. 

“But…answer me please! I never knew! YN, what were you doing in the woods? I never got a letter from you- your family did, but not me! I’ve been worried all this time!”

You stopped. You realized you should have sent a letter to her. You took in a deep breath. Then you sat on the rocking chair next to the window, your hands clutched in your lap. 

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry. I promise. Stella…the reason why…is…is…”

You felt your throat get tight. You knew if you told someone, your reputation here would be that of humiliation, a laughingstock. But…then people would know what their rector did. What their scientist widow did too. And you wouldn’t be staying here to get the fire. On one hand, Stella could be trusted with a secret. But on the other hand, if she told someone…you decided it wouldn’t matter at all. You were going to be brought low in the town but you would drag them down with you.

“Because Will- Reverend Ransome…betrayed me for Mrs. Seaborne.” you stated.

Stella’s eyebrows shot up to the rim of her forehead. 

“I found their love letters before the wedding. Then I saw them kissing in a field. I confronted him about it that night and then cried and ran to the forest to hide from him. I was so distraught from it all I…I passed out. That was why I was there- and why Hal took me to Asgard. I then decided to end things. I sent him a letter and returned the ring,” you explained. 

Stella placed a hand over her heart.

“Oh…Y/N…that’s…that’s…dear heavens, I don’t know what to say!”

“He saw her even when I was sick! I…I loved him so much and he…he…he tossed me away for another!” you confessed, your body shaking with tears. 

Stella went up and embraced you.

“Oh, Y/N, that’s horrible for you! You deserve to be happy-you don’t deserve these tears…” she consoled.

“And neither do you…and that’s why I’m here,” you replied. You broke the hug, wiping the tears off her hand and staring her in the eye.

She blinked.

“What do you mean?

“Stella…Asgard is a magical place. Loki’s there, and so is his god family. But there’s a threat to their world and ours. I’m staying with them  to help out there’s Grendel…”

“What’s a Grendel!?” she asked.

“He’s a monster- humanlike, tall, with claws and eyes yet with fur. He’s strong and can fight. But he’s smart- talks like a person. He’s threatening to rule over all of us, Loki said…and that includes home- here on earth…”

Her eyes widened. But there was no sign of doubt.

“We went to a prophet to ask for help and he spoke about a clue to defeat him. But there’s more- he told me of you- of what’s going to happen to you!” you cried.

“To me!?”

You grabbed her shoulders, seriously. You hardened your look, your eyes never leaving hers.

“The Prophet told me my fate is supposed to be your fate. If you had married William, you would have died of consumption and he would have betrayed you for another as you lived!”

“What!?”

“Yes! And you would have attempted suicide!”

“Y/N! I…that’s…that’s what is supposed to happen to…to me?” she asked.

“Yes! Stella- I am very serious. I came back to warn you of this. I do not wish for you to suffer what I suffered. I don’t care if you insist it is better for the ones you love to be happy- I don’t care if you never act like me if you say you have no jealousy if you never reveal your deepest thoughts. He’s going to betray you for another, no matter how long you’re with him or how much you love him. You are going to die and die horribly if you marry him- like I almost did! Stella-you must promise me two things!”

You looked in her frightened blue eyes, your hands gripping her shoulders, but not shaking her.

“One- you must promise you will never try to kill yourself!” you said. “If you ask anyone to help you- they have to refuse and take you somewhere you can have help!”

“Of course I won’t! I never could! Never thought it possible of me!” you responded with a nervous nod.

“Two- Stella…this is important…I say this to protect you…you must tell me…do you have any feelings for Will! I promise it won’t hurt me…”

“No, I do not. He’s spoken with me a few times but…he’s no more than our Rector and sometimes a guest at home. Nothing more…”

You looked her deeper in the eye.

“Swear to me on your life- Promise me, Stella. If he ever proposes marriage to you- you will refuse him! Be rude to him! Slam the door in his face! If your mother enforces the marriage- run away! Jilt him at the altar! Ruin yourself!”

“Ruin myself!?” she cried.

“Whatever it takes! Promise me, Stella! You’re going to die and be betrayed if you marry him! Promise me!” you begged.

She lifted a hand and touched yours.

“Y/N- I- I…I promise then…”

Crying tears, you hugged her again.

“If he even lays a hand at you, I swear, I will kill him…” you muttered, anger and sadness washing over you. 

She embraced you back. You crying definitely and even she shook with a few quiet tears, her hand rubbing your back softly in the embrace. 

You gave her a last hug and both of you cried a little. She gave you her handkerchief with little blue flowers sewn at the end to wipe your face from tears. Then you went downstairs returning to the parlor. 

You said your goodbyes, promising Stella to be more diligent when writing to her. After checking the coast was clear of a green scarf, you ran out to the street, the men following. Loki made a portal back. Laing, Hal, and Thomas all eagerly got through. Jonathan turned back, had a last look back, and then he turned around and walked through the portal. Stella kept the door open as you both waved goodbye. You shared a look with your friend and then returned to Asgard, Loki hopping in right before you.

“Well, I hope you all enjoyed the little field trip-but I could use some relaxation. It’s been quite a day!” he stretched his arms up and then used his seidrs to have everyone back to their normal clothes, except Thomas and you of course. 

“For once I agree with you- I-I’ll be in the garden if anyone needs me,” you breathed out, before turning around.

You returned and sat right down into the garden onto a bench. It was a bright, lovely day on Asgard with the yellow roses in bloom. Your mind was spinning- she was warned. She’ll be safe. She will keep her promise. 

But recalling it- you still felt it. The Letters. The field. The white shirt. The red dress. The kiss. The white house. The brown inside. The bible on the floor. Your throat scratched as if you were just yelling- you leaned down and placed your head in your hands. Not even the soft breeze and sunshine saving your from your sadness.

 You then heard a gentle voice- the queen’s voice. 

“Why…Y/N- Is something the matter?” Frigga asked.

You turned up and saw she had a basket where she was gathering a few flowers.

“No I…I…I made a visit back to my home town…” you began. “My friend was…was in danger. I had to warn her. Now she knows and she promised me she’ll be careful but…still…all the memories of what happened with my-my betrothed, I-I…He’s no longer my bethrothed. I ended things with him but…”

She sat down next to you, listening intently.

“But…yet it still makes me sad! I can’t stop thinking about him- about what happened! And it just- it all reminded me of him!”

She gave you a small smile.

“You have done the right thing then. You would have been more miserable if you stayed promised to him and went through with the marriage…”

You wiped a tear off with your sleeve.

“I just don’t know if…if my heart will…ever stop breaking from what happened…or if I will stop thinking about it!” you confessed.

Setting the basket aside, she offered her open hand. You accepted it. 

“Y/N, time is a kind friend. Time will pass…and you will learn to move on from him. But if you go to places and things that remind you of him, you will think yourself still about to marry him. I say you must not go to places that will give you those memoies- at least not now when you are still hurt. You will never be able to move on…”

“Move on…I wonder…if I’ll ever be able to move on…” you said.

“Your pain is great- you have borne the worst of it. You are not there anymore and you are not his anymore. You must be patient now-your feelings of greif may never completely go. It never does. But it will not consume you. But first,  you must be willing to let them pass as much as come…”

She looked over and gestured to a tree in the garden. Leading you to walk there, you stood up to admire it. It was a tall tree full of pink blossoming flowers with a sweet, delicate scent.

“Y/N, my dear- do you see the scars on it’s trunk?”

Squinting, you saw that the dark wood of the trunk did have scars on them. Multiple ones. You nodded at Frigga.

 “It got the scars after it grew to a full tree. The scars will be there all of it’s life. But, it  still grew. The leaves and blossoms open, whither, and fall and bloom again. They become bigger and larger around their scars until they are just faint marks…and that will be you.”

She reached up and plucked out a few flowers, handing them to you. Then as you pressed the flowers into your hand, she kept a gentle hand over yours. Yes, this was the queen touching you, but she was kind. Comforting you as she must have comforted her children, her family, or her friends. Not seeing you as a subject beneath her- but someone in need of help. 

“YN, you will grow and bloom despite your scars. I promise you- one day, you will not cry as much. And little by litte- you will let him go and learn how both to mourn, and how to move on.”

She smiled at you, touching your cheek. When you returned to your room, you pressed the flower into your journal.

[enemyoflactose]

I finished Noah's Arc

My descent into villainy begins.

@lostsomewhereinthegarden wanted to be tagged in this one 💕

Voice acting:

I have no clue what any new characters sound like in the sub, so this 4kids performance only.

Noah: round of applause he sounds fantastic.

Gozuburo: he needs to sound more like he smokes

The Deep Sea Warrior guy: I forgot what he sounded like

Crump: he sounds weird

Johnson: Why is his voice so deep? Why is it so deep? He sounds like a big scary monster.

The robot: I wasn't paying attention to him

Lector: nice. I like his voice.

Dark Magician Girl: it's really annoying for some reason.

Flame Swordsman: hot voice

Serenity's deck master: I don't like it.

Characters:

Yugi: that sure is Yugi. He gets more screentime than usual and that's a nice change. I love his interactions with Téa after her duel, he's so sweet it makes my dumb shipper brain go crazy.

Yami: he sure does duel. He insults Noah a few times, and is mean to Kuriboh in his first duel.

Téa: QUEEN. If Kaiba didn't exist this would have been her season.

Joey: That sure is Joey. It killed me every time he thought of Mai. Bro wants her back so badly.

Tristan: he was robbed. He deserved to duel again.

Duke: this man is so fucking rude like what the hell? I love him tho he's funny and silly.

Serenity: this poor girl blames herself so much. It was not her fault that Tristan died. It was 100% Duke's.

Seto Kaiba: why is he like this? He's so cool.

Mokuba: precious baby wanted to forgive Noah so badly. He said they were family. He said Kaibacorp would help build him a robot body and they could be twins. I'm crying.

Noah: Why was his backstory handled better than the Ishtar's? Why? This is a filler character and I felt worse for him than Marik. Maybe it's because he's a better duelist idk.

The big five: they exist

Gozuburo: his love for Noah was so conditional, I hate this man. I'm glad he's dead.

Important note

Deck Masters are a thing. I like the idea of them.

Duels

Duel 1 - Yugi vs Gansly

Yugi chooses Kuriboh as his deck master and is upset about it because it was an accident.

Gansly is his own deck master.

Most of the duel is Gansly explaining the rules to Yugi and using cards that either don't exist, or are really bad.

Yuugi wins using Kuriboh, Rainbow Bridge, and Gaia the Fierce Knight to attack Gansly directly.

Duel 2 - Téa vs Crump

There was so much Téa fan service in this duel and before this and after this duel. It would have been distracting if this duel wasn't hype.

Téa picks Dark Magician Girl as her deck master, and Crump uses himself/Nightmare Penguin as a deck master.

Crump uses Penguin cards and cards like Cold Wave (Rest in Peace King) to gradually turn Téa into an ice sculpture.

Téa uses cards like Maha Vailo, some equip spells, and Mirror force to help herself, but due to still being a beginner mirror force gets destroyed.

Téa is getting guidance from Dark Magician Girl on how to duel, and ends up using Sage's Stone to special summon Dark Magician.

Téa wins the duel.

Also, Crump wanted to build a penguin themed amusement park, but that's not important.

Duel 3 - Joey vs Johnson

Joey stumbled into a court room after thinking he found his way back to the blimp. He was tricked by Johnson who was pretending to be Mai.

Joey's deck master is Flame Swordsman and Johnson's is Judge Man.

During this duel, Joey is using his deck master's special ability to raise his monsters attack points, but then they all get destroyed.

Now Joey is putting his faith in his gambling cards, but Johnson is cheating and making it so Joey can't use them

Noah catches this and calls out Johnson, but Joey says it's fine as long as he doesn't cheat anymore.

Joey ends up winning.

Duel 4 - Tristan, Duke, and Serenity vs Nezbit

I wasn't paying attention to this duel until Tristan died.

I still wasn't paying attention after he died.

Duke and Serenity win, but Nezbit got to take control of Tristan's body and now Tristan is Robot Monkey Tristan.

Duel 5: Kaiba vs Lector

This duel was too short.

Lector's deck master is Jinzo and Kaiba's is Lord of D.

During this duel, Lector is using cards like Jinzo and Imperial Order to make sure Kaiba can't use spells or traps. He also uses Injection Fairy Lily. I miss her. I miss my Lily.

Kaiba catches on to Lector's plan and makes him lose too many life points to keep Lily and Imperial Order on the field, then he summons Blue Eyes White Dragon and destroys a Satellite. I'm pretty sure 4kids censored this scene, because there was a weird jump cut from Blue Eyes attacking, to the debris falling.

Duel 6 - Joey and Yugi vs The Big Five

The big five are using Tristan's body to duel, and they're doing alright with early Umi Control. Then Johnson ruins it.

Yugi and Joey fuse their deck masters The Big Five fuse their deck masters.

Uhhhhhh

Yugi and Joey win and we never see the Big Five again.

Important stuff that happened

Mokuba got kidnapped and brainwashed.

Kaiba and the gang found out that Noah was Kaiba's step brother.

Noah is being really creepy to Mokuba.

Duel 7 - Yugi and Kaiba vs Noah

This duel is so long

Kaiba is really trying his best and is kind of winning, but Noah is reciting the Bible and using Mokuba as a shield so Kaiba loses because he is a hardcore reddit atheist and loves Mokuba.

Yugi calls Noah a hypocrite and combines his and Kaiba's deck.

Kaiba and Mokuba are turned to stone at this point.

Yuugi keeps talking shit and then Duke gets turned to stone. Nothing of value was lost.

Noah has to activate his deck master's second ability because Yugi destroyed the first one, and now Yugi has to fave Shinatu or whatever his name was.

Noah keeps raising his life points and he's using Spirit Monsters

My honest reaction to spirit monsters.

At least we saw Yatagurasu.

Noah is turning Yugi's friends to stone every turn, but Téa gets to stay alive for one more turn because she's just cool like that.

Yami summons all three Dark Magicians that he has ,but Noah destroyed all of them.

Then Yami summons Blue eyes and wipes out Noah's life points.

Yugi won and Kaiba wasn't happy that Yugi used his deck.

Duel 8 - Kaiba vs Gozuburo

This duel was also too short.

Gozuburo has Exodia and it gave Kaiba PTSD.

Kaiba has to send all 5 pieces of Exodia to the graveyard so that Gozuburo can summon Exodia Necros.

Necros is invincible and Kaiba's all like "You still take damage dumbass"

Gozuburo raises the attack of Necros, and Kaiba banishes (or puts them back in the deck I forgot) the Exodia pieces that were in the graveyard.

Kaiba wins and Gozuburo tries to take over his body anyway, but Yugi saves him.

Important stuff that happened

The squad was looking for an exit with Noah

Noah was told he was disappoinment so many times.

Mokuba accepted Noah as part of his family

Noah went to the real world to help the gang get their bodies back.

The island is about to explode.

Téa, Tristan and Serenity get their bodies back first

Then Duke and Joey

Then the rest of them.

Noah traps Gozuburo in Cyber space.

The island exploded

The End

[allergyu]

🧸 𓂃 ✿

okay so after a while i decided to post this, it's not as good as i wanted it to be but i'm still a beginner and i'll try to do better next time. Thank you so much to all the people who voted and for supporting this idea of me writing again because i tried to do it many times in the past and ended up doing nothing. also i'll try to write the Yeonjun one and post it as soon as posible. ;) Hope you guys like it!

Soobin entered to Beomgyu's bedroom, opening the door slowly he walked closer to Beomgyu's bed and he felt relieved after seeing beomgyu finally sleeping.

Beomgyu couldn't sleep last night, he tried to sleep earlier than the other members but ended up waking soobin up at 2 A.M asking him for help because he couldn't get to the bathroom on time and ended up throwing up on the floor. Beomgyu spent the whole night Coughing and wiping his nose with his sleeve because he felt too dizzy to get some tissues.

Almost 1 hour later, Soobin was in his room playing with his friends, he got too excited and forgot about the fact that Beomgyu was sleeping and didn't realize he was laughing a bit too loud... Soobin's eyes widen as he gets a call from beomgyu.

"I'm sor-"

"Hyung.. can you bring me some water, please?" Beomgyu said, his voice deep and quiet

"what?"

"water hyung, water."

"uh... okay.."

Then the call ended, soobin told his friends he would be back in a minute and went to the kitchen to get some water for Beomgyu.

Soobin entered Beomgyu's room and placed the glass of water on the nightstand, carresing Beomgyu's back gently

"I'm sorry if i woke you up." Soobin said "Please sleep again."

"mmm" Beomgyu hummed, Soobin went back to his dorm again and told his friends he was back. Soobin thought Beomgyu was sleeping peacefully now, but the reality was that Beomgyu couldn't sleep again, he was sleepy but he just couldn't.. he tried listening to ASMR but it was annoying, he was in bed with his eyes closed for almost 45 minutes, he just couldn't sleep again.

Hours later, when Taehyun, Yeonjun and Hueningkai were back home Beomgyu decided to go to the living room and watch TV there, probably the members would notice how bad he felt and would help him, he thought. But when he opened the door, the smell coming out of the kitchen, propably the members making the dinner made him feel nauseous almost instantly. He tried to ignore it, laying down on the couch and thinking about something else.. he would get used to the smell and feel better after 5 minutes, right..?

He covered himself with the blanket and closed his eyes.. that didn't work either, the smell making him feel nauseous and the members playing around and yelling in the kitchen making him feel dizzy. He didn't even try to walk to the bathroom this time, he just sat up slowly threw up on the floor again, still wrapped around the blanket.

Suddenly the members stopped laughing and yelling, Yeonjun quickly ran out of the kitchen and gasped when he saw Beomgyu throwing up, he didn't even know Beomgyu was sick!

"shh.. it's okay.." Yeonjun said, looking at the members with a nervous expression while he caressed Beomgyu's back.

"Are you done?" Yeonjun asked softly when Beomgyu stopped, Beomgyu nodded slowly, his eyes watering as he thought about what he just did.. he could've ran to the bathroom, but now the members had to clean all the mess.

"I'm sorry.." he looked at Yeonjun

"No no, it's okay"

Yeonjun replied But beomgyu felt really guilty anyways, and when he saw Soobin walking out of his bedroom he couldn't hold it anymore and started crying like a baby. He felt really bad and embarassed, this was this kind of times when you just want you mom to pick you up and bring you home.

"Hyung.." Hueningkai said when he saw beomgyu crying, actually no one knew what to do or say...

"It's okay.. don't cry.." Soobin said softly, brushing Beomgyu's hair gently with his fingers..

When Beomgyu finally calmed down, he looked at soobin and opened his arms to hug him, that was the only thing he wanted right now.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry for not giving you any medicine earlier" Soobin said, Beomgyu nodded

"It's fine.. i just felt annoyed because of all this.. i couldn't sleep and.."

"You couldn't sleep again? because of me...?" soobin interrupted beomgyu

"Well kinda but-"

"I'm so sorry.." soobin said, hugging Beomgyu once again, Beomgyu sighed, even though beomgyu said it was fine Soobin just kept apologizing..

So eventually after cleaning everything, Soobin called Beomgyu's mom and explained what happened, Beomgyu felt a lot better after talking to his mom so he tried to eat something light after his mom told him to and also took some medicine Soobin gave him.

Soobin took care of him all night, massaging his head, cuddling with him and basically doing everything he asked for. Luckily this time, Beomgyu he slept for almost 10 hours, and his headache was completely gone when he woke up the next morning. But almost a week later, Beomgyu had to be the one taking care of Soobin.

[arlington-loverboy]

The best Valentine's Day

➹Tadashi tastes the cake made by his crush.

♥ Couple: Tadashi Nakano x Scholar

➹Words: 1601

♥ Note: English is not my first language and this is my first time writing, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or it's too ooc.

━━━━━━━━

Tadashi gave a reluctant look to the cake in front of him, it was so deformed that even the cafeteria lady flinched when they both approached to borrow a pair of spoons. Scholar didn't notice it, Tadashi did not bring it to their attention either, he couldn't bear to break all the happiness and illusion that were shining in their eyes.

“I know it seems a bit screwed up. Want me to taste it first?” Scholar asked.

“What? No. It’s all right. It looks cute,” he said. “I-I will eat it now.”

Tadashi gulped as he took one of the spoons. He tried to convince himself that he was just being whimsical, he grew up eating fine pastry, so his speciations about baking were too high and unrealistic. Besides, it was a gift from Scholar, they had made it for him and him only. He only had to think about it to make his heart race. However, as soon as a spoonful of cake touched his tongue, he struggled not to spit it out. It tasted salty, spicy, bitter and cloyingly sweet all at the same time. The mix of flavor didn’t make any sense, and the texture didn't help at all.

Tadashi felt like he was about to puke, but then he met Scholar's big doe eyes. They awaited his reaction with a warm smile on their lips, looking more beautiful than ever.

“Well?” Scholar asked shyly. “Do you like it?”

Tadashi forced a smile and swallowed the cake that felt like sand on his tongue. “It's great. I love it.”

“I’m glad you like it! I have never baked anything before.”

“I can tell.” He responded without thinking, but regretted it as soon as Scholar's smile faltered a little. “I mean, it's a good cake for a beginner, the mixture is a bit stiff though.”

“Yeah, there was no guide, you know, the Wi-Fi went out. I just… I wanted to make something special for you so bad that I couldn’t wait.”

‘Oh, my love, you should have asked Claire to do it for you’ was the only thought Tadashi had while his taste buds suffered. And, in the past, he might have been able to say it out loud or give honest constructive criticism, but he simply couldn’t. Scholar flushed cheeks betrayed how happy and proud they were with the idea of him enjoying their gift, he couldn’t bear to ruin it for them.

Tadashi panicked when Scholar tried to reach the other spoon, so he took their hand on his and squeezed it softly. “Thank you.”

He wasn't going to let Scholar ruin it for themselves either!

“It's no big deal, you've probably eaten better things before,” they said.

“But you made this one. I-It’s better that any of those things”. Tadashi found himself blushing too. He wasn’t lying after all, that cake was the best gift he had been given, although it tasted burnt and raw at the same time.

Scholar let out a giggle that made him feel warm inside. They were so lovely. Pretty bad bakers, put still lovely.

“Oh my. What do we-” Tyler approached them with a playful smile that fade the moment he noticed the cake. “Wow, where did you get that? Looks like someone stepped on it.”

“It doesn't look like that at all. The icing is just a little crooked.” Tadashi retorted instantly as he let go Scholar hand. “Food don’t need to have a good presentation, the flavor is all that matter.”

Tyler was about to argue when the realization popped on his head. His gaze went from Tadashi to Scholar repeatedly until he laughed and said, “I was joking. Food is also an art, and it takes practice, Scholar did very well for a beginner.”

Tadashi sighed in relief.

“You don’t have to lie, Tyler, I know it looks ugly, but it tastes good, Tadashi liked it,” Scholar said. “And thanks for the ingredients, I owe you a big one.”

“Where the hell did you get those things?” Tadashi frowned.

“Why are you thinking about me when it’s Valentine’s Day and they’re right here?” Tyler gestured toward Scholar dramatically. “Relax and enjoy your cake, Tadman, live the moment. Let’s go, take another bite.”

Tadashi gave him a murderous glare for a second before turning to Scholar and smiling. The memory of the hideous taste invaded his mouth and send shivers through his body. Despite that, he took the spoon and tried to gather the necessary strength, it was all about making Scholar happy.

Before he could take a bite, Raquel entered the cafeteria and noticed them. “Hey! Shit, man, that cake is deflating? Are they selling spoi-?”

“Scholar made it,” Tadashi interrupted sharply.

“Oh, I should have noticed, Arlington don’t have this kind of delicacies,” she changed her concerned expression to a smile.

Tyler grinned. “Hey, Raquel, Tadashi said it tastes like heaven. Wouldn't it be great to try it out? It’s a lot of sugar for just one person, isn’t?”

“Really? If Dashi like it, it must be truly good.” Raquel looked the ugly cake with curiosity.

Worried about keeping Scholar happiness unharmed, Tadashi wanted to move the plate away from the others. However, Scholar turned to him expectantly.

“Do you want to share it?” They asked.

Scholar's kindness was in the second row of the Excel that Tadashi named ‘what I like about them’. And he liked it, absolutely like it, but never imagined it would be a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think he minds it, our president has always been a generous soul!” Tyler took the second spoon and gave Raquel a bite of cake.

Tadashi saw in horror how all the color disappeared from Raquel face. Drops of cold sweat appeared on her forehead as she forced the burn-flavored mixture, accompanied by the sugary raw egg icing, down her throat.

“It’s so tasty.” Raquel held back a retch. “Finally some gourmet shit in this school.”

Tyler didn't even laugh as he watched Raquel fight for her life.

“I told you, Scholar, you did great.” Tadashi ate another small piece of cake, this time feeling the uncooked flour sticking in his throat. He coughed to prevent himself from drowning and rubbed his arms. “It’s a little cold in this time of the year.”

Scholars stroked his back as if to warm him, but pulled their hands away when they remembered the presence of their friends. They tried to act normally. “Next time I will bake more for everyone.”

Tadashi's eyes widened when he heard them. As much as he loved them, he could recognize that he would not live long if he had to eat something like that again. It was better if Scholar stayed away from the ovens for a long time.

Still, he endured the sour taste in his mouth and smiled at Scholar. “I would love to try your baking again.”

“I will make cookies for you next time then! That should be easier, and hopefully the Wi-Fi will be working. It’s going to be much better.”

Tyler choked his laugh with his hand. Raquel didn’t even dare to say anything, she was busy wiping her tears after almost passing out.

“Well, I have some study to do. I will see you later, guys.” Scholar stood up from the chair. They gave Tadashi an awkward pat on the shoulders. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I will see you later.” Tadashi said. “And seriously, thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”

They shared a smile before Scholar left the cafeteria. Tyler and Raquel waved goodbye and waited until they were out of sight to let out their laughs.

“If it wasn't obvious that they liked you, I would think it was an assassination attempt.” Raquel grabbed a napkin and tried to wipe her tongue. “That cake has to be poisonous.”

“Is not that bad. Just a little hard and dry… And sometimes strangely damp,” Tadashi argued. “Scholar did his best for me- I mean, for this to be good.”

“‘Not that bad’, man? It was spicy, and cakes aren’t supposed to be spicy. How did you put up with two bites of that?”

“Now you have my absolute respect. If you eat that whole monster, you can survive anything,” Tyler said.

“No way he’s gonna keep eating it.” Raquel looked at Tyler in disbelief.

Tadashi was too focused on the cake to pay attention to them. It sucked, yes, he couldn't deny it, but he didn't want to throw it away. To tell the truth, he didn't feel like eating it either because it was obvious that he might get sick, but every time he thought of Scholar taking the time to cook for him, he felt both happy and guilty. His crush liked him enough to make a cake that turned out to be the shittiest pastry he had ever tasted. However, it wasn’t just a cake, it was the first one Scholar made in his life, and it was for him. Tadashi he pushed the cake towards him, shielding it from the judgmental eyes with his arms.

Tyler pretended to pray. “Rest in peace. We will remember you as Arlington's greatest president.”

"No fucking way, Dashi, you’re stupidly and absolutely whipped," Raquel said.

Tadashi groaned, even though he knew she was right. Maybe he was a little too much into Scholar to the point of making a regretful choice, like keeping that ugly cake. And although he knew it, he couldn’t help himself. Love had to be an evolutionary disadvantage because that one felt like the best Valentine's Day of his life.

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Sei no Gekiyaku

Title: Sei no Gekiyaku (性の劇薬)

Author/Artist: Mizuta Yuki

Shop: CD + Manga

Release Date: 2021/10/27

Cast: Morikawa Toshiyuki x Nojima Hirofumi

Synopsis:

“I’ll find all of your most sensitive spots.”

Makoto Katsuragi, a man working for an advertising agency, has so far led a perfect private and work life. However, that all comes crashing down in an instant when he loses everything he holds dear. In the midst of his despair, he drunkenly climbs onto the ledge of a tall building and is about to jump, when… “If you’re going to throw away your life…let me have it.” He is saved by these words offered by the sudden appearance of Ryuji Yoden, and decides to do exactly as Ryuji says. From the moment Makoto awakens in Ryuji’s room, his daily life of retraining begins, giving away not only his body but his heart…

Review Proper

Uhh.

Hmm.

???????

If y'all know me and or have read my older posts, you'll know I hate this type of plot. However, I had to listen to this 'cause the last I heard of Morikawa Toshiyuki was in 2021, and Nojima Hirofumi in... 2019?! *goes into existential panic*. It doesn't help that these two were Shigure-san and Haru in Nights Before Night. I wanted my happy ending with them to happen even though it was nearly impossible since these two are already inactive in the BL industry. Having the two of them come back and co-star in a BLCD again is just too good to be true... and I was right. I didn't expect them to come in for one of the sketchiest things in the market. I really don't know what Frontier is smoking, having all the budget for veterans like these only to put them in weird projects.

Biases and triggers aside, I think that Sei no Gekiyaku failed to deliver what it was set to convey. It tried so hard to be deep and psychological in the beginning, but it's like sensei just threw that out the window in chapter 3. It reminds me a lot of Lala no Kekkon and Derail. What was all that build-up for, then? I'm gonna say it. If you wanna use Stockholm Syndrome, then commit. This is also true with the discarded BDSM. I don't like these themes, but damn, do I feel bad for them 'cause they all felt pointless in the end.

Anyway, onto the topic of the BLCD itself...

You'll miss a lot of things if you haven't read the manga beforehand. There was a lot of added and dropped content that was understandable since no other characters apart from the two leads were in the BLCD. But that also led to Ryuji's older brother's presence being missing in the BLCD. Although Ryuji mentions him in the BLCD often enough, the manga just shows Ryuji's trauma better since we get to see him constantly haunting Ryuji. I'm not sure if they've changed censorship laws on BLCDs because the same thing happened in Kuroe to Mesu, but the BLCD was less graphic than the manga. Take that part where Ryuji rapes Makoto in the bathtub. You can hear Makoto take a toy in, but you'll never know it was a dildo mount whatchamacallit if you didn't read the manga.

There's also that part when Ryuji loses it when Makoto smiles when they were fucking. Nojinii does chuckle then, but you wouldn't pick that up if you didn't know what happened in the manga. It might've been better if Ryuji loudly thought: "Oh crap, he smiled."

The original plot was already badly paced, but the BLCD was even worse lmao. The tracks don't even start the same way the manga chapters do. I really don't recommend listening to this if you haven't heard the story and are a beginner to Japanese. Speaking of reading, idk what happened to futekiya, but the translation progressively got worse towards the end of the manga. I also read the scanned version of this when it was still unlicensed, but it was also a bit off.

Now for the light in the tunnel: the voice work.

I tried to fight it. I really did.

But I'm always going to be Moririn trash.

Don't get me wrong, Morimori did spectacular here (duh). But I really hated Ryuji that I initially had no thoughts other than respect towards his voice acting here... until he whispered in Track 4, that is. At some point, I just wanted to throw Nojinii out of the picture 'cause THAT SHOULD BE ME???!!! I'LL SLURP THIS SPAGHETTI OFF THE FLOOR ON ALL FOURS FOR YOU, MORIKAWA TOSHIYUKI!

My god. Frontier sure has taste in VAs but not in stories.

He was just-ugh. I wonder how he does that. Like in Tadaima, he makes you feel like he's talking to you rather than his co-star wtf. I was gasping for air goddammit. This man is a danger to society.

As for Nojinii, I actually thought that his voice was too high for Makoto in the beginning. It was almost in the same range as his Haru, and I imagined Makoto's voice to be lower. It did grow on me, though. I missed my bottom Nojinii. Of course, he did excellent as well. His fear was really believable in the first tracks that I just feel so bad for him 'cause he needed to throw that all away. 🙄

Man, I can't help but think that Morimori and Nojinii were wasted on this work. Again, it's already a miracle to have them back, so this might be the last time they ever pair up again. And for fucking Sei no Gekiyaku? Part of the reason why I stopped listening to BLCDs was 'cause I wouldn't know how to cope if I saw more of my favorite older VAs leaving the industry. That's also why I stopped doing releases lists. Hype around BLCDs has steadily been on the decline and if you haven't noticed, there's been considerably fewer releases too. The manga scene isn't doing well either. I'm just so afraid it'll all run out someday. *crisis*

Going back on topic, I do not recommend this BLCD. If you're into psychological and BDSM, I would look into Harada or Kabukichou Bad Trip instead. If you're a fan of Morimori and Nojinii, I still wouldn't recommend it if the theme isn't your thing. Let's just re-listen to Nights Before Night and suffer instead. 👍

[thelittlepingu]

⋞ A Hero and their Weapon. }] く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

Splatoon Manga/Coroika x Isekai? Reader

⋞ enjoying your new life!!

16-Jan-2024 <-!!

[{ Thank you for enjoying the first chapter, I noticed there's a little misspelling as for 'hire' and 'here', eventually i Will learned my lesson and make better things with it,but still thank you for reading it it's bring me a smile.and it's a Lots of fun making this than I thought!! }]

The Fallacy has spoken: it is just so nice to see you again dear familiar

[{Reader will be called [{Redacted}]/Familiar in this and Will be using They/Them pronounce just for Everyone to enjoy in every Page,this will keep going in the future page}]

<<Chapter 1.5 [{you here}] <- [{previous chapter}] Chapter 2 ->

To be honest.. what chapter is this?.. it's still 1?.. then it's still Rider.. Probably now their team is already fighting.. uhhggg god dammit, you really wanted to watch their show who knows you can learn while watching their show ahhhgg dammit dammit..

. . .

Wait.. wait a minute.. you still can, it's a Corocoro cup tournament, every once a year there's going to be a tournament, whoever is Number one on Turf war is a Champion or you can say getting the cup.. and if many inkling join the tournament that's mean there's going to be some kind of live video eventually you know who there's too.. of course it's the one and only the Emperor.

Hm.. maybe that's why he get name like Arrogant air by Crusty Sean or everybody name him an Arrogant air... who kidding, he really is.. but in the end he got better.. but then nerf.. and then he start being a fast food worker... He must be bawling out his eyes in his room from losing to a C- inkling, okay that's funny and very true reaction

You. Pretty much like the Emperor but you don't want to be like that Arrogant inkling, you just have the trait of a Good confidence.. And you are already getting into Rank X in Splatoon 2, you are proud of yourself nonetheless, but like getting your ass kick by C- is damn so much denial because what the hell..

Okay enough, you then let yourself enter the Test Range.. you look for a spot to sit and watch the live.. after taking a spot to sit, of course taking the phone to watch the live..

. . .

Oh.. oh how cool, it was better from the Manga, you never know this is going to be intense.. those move and those weapons the Dynamo Weapon.. it looks really heavy.. to be honest you remember in Sheldon store it's really bigger than you thought, admiring the ^Play^ it's really good and having slick move too..

You get up and stare at your weapon.. a glimpse of thought start go again and again

. . .

' how will you win.. '

A devil speak to itself yet you are not a devil nor a villain you just.. you, you just seek thriving goal.. such as this ^Turf War^.. you wanted the seeking challenge, you can't let yourself down for just such a little thing.. you just can't... You can't..

. . .

. . .

. . .

SPLAT!!

SPLAT!!

' hah.. hah .. Hah.. '

You took a look at your hand.. the look at the dummies

It hitting the dummies, the look of concern and sweat was building up to your face.. was it really necessary to be like this.. you felt sorry for what emotion you're feeling right now but you can't help it either.. but then again.. people have their right to be little selfish right?,gosh what are you thinking stop being like that, stop trying to make things look like it's great even it's literally bad, ..hah.. okay.. you giving it a shot, of course the practice what were you thinking.

You start to walk in front of the dummies.. not too far not too near then start to Aming the Shooter at the dummies

After a whole hour passed by and you are sweating.. but you do feel awesome, it's like having fun to yourself, you learn a move or two, you like it, even though it's just some Beginner weapon it's was fun.

You can't wait for your main weapon, it is going to be great. Such a great journey..

. . .

Hah.. you guess you can rest for a while who knows the next thing goggles will be losing to another inkling.. yeah he does really get his butt kick with Rider Dynamo it's little funny.

And.. after that they are going to face the Army team, they thought they were not going to face them in the second of the game, like they thought they didn't face Rider for the first round of the Game, oh how unlucky but even though they still manage to win, and idiotic blue still win even they face the S4 for a second time is shocking, then again he is the protagonist of this Manga even he lose to skull and wanting a rematch then he still win

' gosh is there another way.. '

And here you are remembering that, but it is nice to remember a little thing even if it's not necessary to do.. you are bored.. the next Match it's of course Goggles team And Army Team.. okay why do you say it's Goggles team, the leader is literally Glasses.. ah whatever..

But yeah it's going to be them, the next match is will take a while than you thought.. why not texting ^Cloak^ for something.. anything is okay since you are literally exhausted from training.. maybe talk about the S4..?

Familiar Has Text.. [\White Cloak\]

[\Familiar\]: Hey 'cloak' I'm taking a break from training, and I'm exhausted.. but I wanted to know more about the S4, any idea?

[\White Cloak\]: oh?.. interest about the S4 are you.. well what do you want to know about them, personality? Training? Or more, I got everything

[\Familiar\]: anything, personal information could be included.. if you can.

[\White Cloak\]: oh of course I can, the first you probably know. Rider, he's an inkling who are the first Goggles and their team encounter, as you know first he looks like an intimidated inkling and of course he is,he has a tough personality and he seems to be short tempered, then he began cares about his team, he rather change when he gets defeated by goggles and his team in the end, he still keep his intimidated and still have his serious attitude look in my perspective.. but he truly good, he is the least strongest of S4 but he manages to play with S4 in the end [When Army cannot join the game actually].

[\White Cloak\]: and about Army, Army is an inkling.. who is the second goggles and his team encounter after Rider, but you already knew that aren't you, his personality stern, strict personality, straight forward inkling who pride himself on his Team ability to an counter any possible move that their opponent can make, but it's due to the data they collect in their Manual,in the end he lost to goggles, and yet now he making curry as a data of his too.. cannot blame him, to be honest you just like him.. a little haha

[\White Cloak\]: that's all I can say, for the other you are going to watch them by yourself, and probably ask me again ^^ I'm willing to answer things.

[\Familiar\]: ah.. that's okay.. but.. thanks for this, I can use this information, and still thanks Cloak.

[\White Cloak\]: no problem Dear Familiar, all I can say is I'm just helping you learn something that you wanted to know.. oh well then again I still have something to do.. bye familiar

[\Familiar\]: okay.. bye cloak

. . .

' oh okay that's some data you can use '

That is some information.. but you are excited for this, you can't wait to see their battle in front of your eyes.. you just can't wait but..

' right now I'm going to enjoy my life! '

. . .

Surely you do..

[{ To be Continued }] く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

<<Chapter 1.5 [{you here}] <- [{previous chapter}] Chapter 2 ->

[ikareur]

Hi Fishblr people, I need help

So I wanted to ask for advice. I have two goldfish(?) that I may or may not have rescued from my uni because they were used for an experiment. Every other fish used in the experiment died, with only the two survivors. They are Brobbles and Yoimiya. I knew my neighbour had fish, I tried to ask if they wanted these two but they already had six full-grown fancy goldfish (I don't know what kind) and could not take them. So the responsibility kinda fell to me. I bought a tank. I know 20 gallons is the minimum, but I was forced to take this 30x25x30cm tank (it's a 5-gallon, I think?), and I know it's been stressing both of them. It's way too small, I know. Brobbles is really aggressive and territorial and nips and chases Yoimiya and I feel bad for Yoimiya because her(?) tail is cut short. I really was hoping to get that 20-gallon tank because I knew this would happen, but unfortunately, I couldn't. Is there any way I can lessen the stress? Make Brobbles less aggressive or anything? Yoimiya is struggling with Ich I believe and I've already bought a heater (it's shipping for a few days) and added in a teaspoon of no-additive rock salt (could've been aquarium salts but from what I saw, rock salt was fine as long as there aren't any additives), changed the water and added a few drops of methylene blue to it too. I know I probably shouldn't have taken them in being so underprepared, but I thought them being stuck in a water bottle left to die and seeping into chemicals was probably not the life they deserved. I just felt bad for them, and now I really truly do want them to feel better. Please be nice to me, I'm really a beginner. I just want these little fish to know life better than being stuck in a lab and suffocating in chemicals.

[daydream-the-demon]

my 10 year old friend told me I’m useless for not playing with her at the park, I was drawing and she said “ no one’s seeing it, you don’t post it, you don’t sell it so what’s the point” and she’s right I do post my “art” and not sees it cus it doesn’t look good, I have to except that I am talentless 🫠

No girlypop, you do have talent.

Many can't even draw like you. Many don't even dare to do perspectives. Many aren't good at lines or colors like you. You try hard and you put emotion and soul into your work which is better than some. (*AHEM-* AI "ART"-) Sure you have your weaknesses here and there, but many do. I see you're a beginner who has potential.

I am now a, I don't mean to brag, but I'm decent at art.

Look at my old pieces though, way back from 2022:

Uneven lines and no sense of space. But the colors are good, the concepts are good, the backgrounds aren't bad. You just have to be a little optimistic to find the good.

Now look at where I am now:

I still messed up. The first one? I didn't even care to draw the background, the hairline was wrong, the hands were weird, the hat has perspective problems. The second one has 3 dimensionality problems with the clothes, the hand is bent wrong, the face is disproportionate, I held the pencil too tightly.

Look at the progress. Mistakes happen, yes, but look. Did I ever back down? No. When I was insulted did I stop? No. Now look. I have more to go, much more, but the progress is there.

Also, you don't have to make art for anyone. That's why you have private sketchbooks, that's why you doodle on the homework you know you'll probably lose or never get back, and you do it for fun. You put in and let out feelings and vibes you have. It can wash away like your emotions at the time, but it never leaves your mind. You felt things and wanted to express them.

I remember I made a book cover for something I was writing. I have no idea where it is, or where it went. I think it ended up getting corrupted. Am I a bit sad? Of course. I'm not mad, though. I remember about it. It was a demon x angel romance, it was one of my sparks into having my obsession with demons and angels.

Now look at me, many of my OCs are angels and demons. Hell, I like Hazbin Hotel!

Art always has an influence. It's yours after all.

One last note. Give this to your "friend":

🖕

It's not their job, or anyone's, to put you down like that.

Keep going, I believe in you. Look at what I did, you can also do it. 💋💋💋

You don't need talent either. I have a friend who literally could not write anything without it looking like scribbles. Their art was the same. After practice for months though, their anatomy improved.

There is a reason people say "Practice makes perfect", because it really does. I learned much of my skills from Pinterest, and some from my art tutor. It's possible, I promise.

Make art for yourself, and most importantly have fun with it. It doesn't have to be good. It's just a hobby after all.

[moonsundra]

GUYS I think I found my style, still working on it, but I'm definitely getting there. That's the first time I loved my digital drawings, omg. That has never happened before. I have already made 2 drawings( well, one done and the other one is a sketch) for the fraxus week prompts, I'm so excited and nervous about my first entry. Anyway, here's my "little" rant, because I have no one to talk to about it and I know no one will see it( kinda treat this blog as a diary at this point) but I guess if you want to get to know me better here it is. I was always drawing only realism - portraits, skeletons, skulls and nature with a pencil on paper( can you tell I major in biology lol), a little bit of anime style too. i find it a lot easier to do realism, I just have to copy what I see. I love artists with stylized styles so much, you don't understand how much🛐, it's a lot of work and I love all of the unique styles. If someone who makes art is reading it, I want you to know you're very loved by me, no matter if you're a pro or a beginner, I love you❤️ I'm not an artist and I'm fine with that ( I'm a science teacher lol, I hope none of my students will ever find out about my hobby) I just love drawing, learning how construction and color work and it takes away my anxiety and worries, makes me focused only on the art I'm making. I really did feel like I was already good at art. But not that long ago I got an iPad with procreate and wanted to try digital art. I have never been so humbled. I couldn't understand how layers work, I was chicken scratching all the time, because I couldn't get the pressure sensitivity right and IT DIDN'T FEEL LIKE PAPER AT ALL😭 probably didn't help that I use a fake ass apple pencil, that can't do it right. I needed like 3 months( probably less, but felt like it) to finally start being confident in my lines. I knew I didn't want to draw realism anymore. It felt boring. At first I tried mixing it with an anime style, but I hated it. You have no idea how much time those first drawings that I posted took. No less than 10 hours. And a lot of the lines there were traced from my paper drawings. I was only starting to get into digital art, it's all so embarrassing to look at right now. If I could redo them now I would change a lot of things. I didn't know anything about blending modes, now that I look at the hair and eyes IT'S SO BAD, I didn't know how to change the size of canvas and so on. I have never been in any art community, because I didn't really own any social media, my friends are all from STEM and I'm forever an outsider :) I don't think I have ever even talked to an artist, even though I wish I could. I was very stupid back then about many digital art topics, but now I've educated myself a lot more. everyday I draw and everyday I learn something new and it's so exciting, I haven't felt that way about art in a long time. But at the same time I'm this 🤏 close to give up on digital art, delete this whole blog , break down and hate myself for ever trying

[eddysocs]

Magic Misfires — Hilda Spellman x OC

Summary: Desdemona goes and gets herself into trouble when practicing her magic, but Hilda is there to help dispel the magic and make her feel better.

Word Count: 891

Warnings: None

The morning sun filtered through the windows of the Spellman house, casting a warm glow over the kitchen. Hilda Spellman hummed to herself, content with the quiet of the morning. The peace didn’t last long, however. A loud crash echoed from the hallway, followed by a groan. Hilda’s startled expression softened as she recognized the source. Desdemona Scott, the young witch still grappling with the chaos that often accompanied beginner spellcasting.

Hilda found Desdemona sprawled out on the floor, tangled in what looked like a dozen floating silk scarves, all glowing faintly and twisting around her. The poor girl looked dazed, blinking up at Hilda with wide eyes.

"Goodness, Des," Hilda exclaimed, rushing over and gently untangling the magical ribbons of energy. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

Desdemona grimaced as she managed to sit up. "I was trying a simple levitation spell. Just...you know...for practice. But it got out of hand. Literally." For emphasis, she wiggled her fingers, which were still glowing faintly with an odd shimmer. "Now, everything feels...off. Like there’s static in the air, and it’s stuck inside me."

Hilda’s usual warm smile dimmed with concern. “Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good at all. Let’s get you to the kitchen, and I’ll take a closer look.”

As they settled at the table, Hilda could see that Desdemona was more than just rattled. Her skin had taken on a strange hue —pale with a faint tinge of green— and her eyes were tinged with an unnatural glow. Hilda suspected that Desdemona had unwittingly crossed the streams of two spells, causing a magical backlash.

“Well, you’ve definitely got yourself in a bit of a pickle,” Hilda said kindly. “Looks like the magic’s gone haywire in you. It’s not uncommon for beginners, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Desdemona groaned, resting her head on her arms. “It’s like I’ve got the worst case of the flu, but with a side of magical static. Everything feels heavy and weird, and I can barely think straight.”

Hilda patted her back sympathetically. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll get this sorted out. I’ve seen all sorts of magical mishaps in my time. Now, let me brew up something to ease those symptoms while I figure out what’s gone wrong.���

As Hilda set to work gathering ingredients, she spoke gently, hoping to soothe the restless novice witch in her care. “You know, Des, it’s all part of learning. Magic’s tricky business. It has a way of turning on you if you’re not careful, but it also teaches you to respect its power. You’re learning and growing. This is just a bump in the road.”

Desdemona smiled weakly. “You make it sound like I’m just having a bad day.”

“Well, in a way you are. A magic induced bad day, but a bad day all the same.” Hilda winked as she stirred a concoction of herbs and powders into a bubbling pot. The scent of rosemary, lavender, and something earthy filled the air.

After a few moments, Hilda handed Desdemona a steaming cup. “Drink this. It should stabilize the magic in you long enough for me to do some proper diagnostics.”

Desdemona sipped carefully, wrinkling her nose at the taste, but after a few moments, the buzzing sensation began to lessen. She relaxed a bit, grateful for the brief reprieve.

Hilda took her hand, closing her eyes as she muttered a quick spell under her breath. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she felt the tangled threads of magic inside Desdemona. “Ah, there it is. You’ve accidentally created a loop in your spell. Magic’s circling back on itself inside you. No wonder you’re feeling all out of sorts.”

“So...how do we fix it?” Desdemona asked nervously.

“It’s just going to take a bit of untangling. I’ll need to create a counter spell to unwind the loop and redirect the excess energy safely. You’ll be fine, but it might be a little uncomfortable. Are you ready?”

Desdemona nodded, bracing herself. Hilda’s voice took on a melodic cadence as she chanted softly. The room shimmered with the backed up magical energy that coursed inside her as it made its way out, and Desdemona felt a tugging sensation deep within her, letting her know that whatever Hilda was doing, it was working. She gripped the edge of the table, holding on as Hilda worked her magic.

With a final flick of her wrist, Hilda finished the spell, and the tension inside Desdemona snapped free. She slumped back in her chair, feeling suddenly light and clear headed. The odd shimmer faded from her skin, and the strange greenish hue vanished as well.

Hilda smiled warmly, patting Desdemona’s hand. “There we are! Right as rain. You’ll need to take it easy for a day or two. No spellcasting while your magic rebalances itself. And remember, practice makes perfect, but don’t rush yourself. You’re doing just fine.”

Desdemona exhaled in relief, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Hilda. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, nonsense, love. You’re doing splendidly. Just keep at it. And if you ever get into a bit of magical trouble again, you know where to find me.” Hilda winked, and with that, she bustled back to her brewing, leaving Desdemona with a newfound sense of confidence and a comforting warmth in her chest.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @immyowndefender

Desdemona Scott: @gay-and-sad-tm, @freshmoneyalmondathlete