#did I mention that I have used up all my brain cells and my attention span has gone to shit

[lanternzz]

my adhd against the school system who will win (I have three assignments (one paper and two presentations) due at 8 it’s 7:14 as I speak I don’t think I’m winning this one chat)

#citrine rambles #sillyposting #did I mention that I have used up all my brain cells and my attention span has gone to shit

[nataliasquote]

Tattoos for troubled minds | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake

Warnings: mentions of scars, tattoo needles, slight internalised homophobia

wc: 3.6k

note: I don’t actually have tattoos (despite wanting one so badly) so this is probably really inaccurate. I do apologise if this doesn’t make sense. also, I hate this so much but the guilt of not posting is eating me alive so I’m sorry

-⧗-

Natasha was a quiet soul. She kept to herself, usually sitting at her own table in the Shield cafeteria, eyes focused on her plate of food as she ate quickly, just wanting to get out of there. None of the other agents dared make conversation with her, too spooked by her fighting skills to approach. But that didn’t bother her. Her hyper independence made her hesitant to trust people.

Clint was the only one she spoke to outside of working hours. They weren’t exactly friends, but she tolerated him enough to flash a small smile if she saw him in the hallways or feel slightly relaxed if they were paired for missions together.

And he liked her too, especially since her first words had been a jab at his choice of weapon.

“Bow and arrow? What did you do, get your training in a forest?”

But he didn’t take offense to it. After all, he’d made the call to save her and she owed him her life. Which is how, two years later, she was sprawled on his couch, chewing on take out pizza for the second time that week with a scowl.

“I think I want a tattoo.”

Clint frowned at her, wondering where her brain cells had disappeared to. “What?”

“You know, the permanent drawing-“

“Yes I know what a tattoo is Tasha,” he rolled his eyes at her teasing smirk, already over her sarcasm. “But you know it’s a bad idea for spies to have unique markings like that.”

Natasha shrugged, tugging up her sleeve to reveal a strange shaped scar across her bicep. “I’d say I’ve got enough of those naturally. And it would be hidden on my ribs or something.”

Clint just shook his head and turned back to his food. He was used to Natasha’s odd comments and her tattoo phase probably wouldn’t last in his eyes. Just like her ‘wanting to be blonde’ phase didn’t.

But it didn’t end. A month later and Natasha had fallen down the rabbit hole that was tattoo designs on pinterest, courtesy of a fellow agent who introduced her to the app. She didn’t understand it at first, but now it was 3am and her tablet screen was still glaring bright in her face, a plethora of images scattered across her screen.

She saved a couple to a board, now set on design and placement, before placing it to one side with a grin on her face. Natasha climbed out of bed and padded over to her mirror, pulling up her shirt and smiling softly to herself. But the dim lamplight made her scars glisten and she caught herself, a sudden feeling of repulsion shuddering through her body. She looked like a freak and no tattoo artist would want to go near that. Her scars weren’t normal and she wasn’t ready for the questions yet.

Tears glazed her eyes over and her arms snaked across her stomach, her reflection in the mirror now blurry. Even as the salty tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked the collar of her shirt, she didn’t step away, too engrossed with how disgusting she felt in her body.

That stubborn hope that the redroom failed to squash out had ignited inside her once more, except this time she just wanted to laugh at it. Natasha would never be normal. She was what they’d made her into, and a tattoo was never going to change that.

Clint noticed the change in her demeanor when she sat down at breakfast. Natasha barely engaged in her usual small talk, more focused on her food in front of her.

“Did you do anymore tattoo research yesterday?” He asked, knowing that would catch her attention. But instead of the usual spark, she remained dejected, stirring her yogurt half heartedly.

“Yeah,” came her response, albeit rather forced.

“There’s probably a lot of places in DC that would kill to tattoo a shield agent.” Nat shot him a look. “Just saying!”

“Sure. But I don’t think I can anymore.”

Clint looked at her with a frown. “Why not?”

Natasha just looked down and tugged at her sleeve, suddenly feeling exposed in her tight fitting suit. The image in the mirror from last night came into her mind and she pushed her food away, no longer hoodie. And beside that, she didn’t trust people she worked with, so how would she trust a complete stranger to add something permanent on her body? Getting a tattoo would be nothing but a dream for her, she knew that, but it still crushed her.

Clint studied his best friend for a moment in thought, before he placed his hand gently on her arm. “I might know someone who can help.” Natasha looked up, now interested. Her face was still stony but Clint knew she was excited. “A friend of Laura’s, we helped her out even before you came here.”

“An agent?” Clint hadn’t mentioned anyone like that before and it confused Natasha.

But Clint shook his head. “No, nothing like that. She came to Laura and I when she was a teenager and had nowhere else to go. And you know my wife-“

“Can’t let anyone suffer,” Natasha finished for him, warmth spreading in her stomach at the thought of the soft woman she’d grown to adore. Laura really did have the biggest heart out of everyone.

“Exactly that. Y/n was fourteen, I think, parents kicked her out of the house. How she got to ours, I’ll never know, but she just appeared on the doorstep one night and Laura melted at the sight of her.” Clint’s expression softened at the memory. “But anyway, what I’m saying is that she’s a tattoo artist. She’s got trust issues just like you and I think she’ll help.”

Natasha scowled at the last part, wanting to protest his comment. But she knew he was right; her trust issues were what got her into this mess in the first place.

“But she’s a kid?”

“No, almost the same age as you,” Clint said with a laugh. “You’ll like her, but she can be a little scary.”

“Scarier than me?”

Clint smirked. “Oh, you’d be surprised. That glare of hers rivals yours.” This vague description intrigued Natasha and Clint could see the cogs turning in her mind. “She knows what we do and she’s seen my scars. Trust me, they won’t put her off.”

Natasha’s head shot up, staring at her best friend with confusion. Was she that easy to read? Or did he just know her too well?

~~~

With the news of her favourite girls coming back home, Laura had been in a frenzy of cleaning and preparing. Clint had texted to say he was only minutes away so she left the dishes to soak and headed to the porch, anxiously staring at the track beside their house as she waited.

Anyone would have thought she was married to Natasha over Clint by the difference in reactions she gave them. Sure, Clint got a kiss and a hug, but Natasha truly got the special treatment, with Laura scanning her to make sure she wasn’t injured and quizzing her about how she was. Poor Clint was left to grab their bags as the women disappeared into the farmhouse.

Tea was poured and snacks were eaten in the cosy kitchen before the doorbell rang and Laura excused herself, leaving an anxious Natasha on her own for a moment. Muffled voices could be heard but she tried to go against her instincts of listening in and instead busied herself with a loose thread on the tablecloth. She heard footsteps approaching and turned in her chair, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

The woman who walked in the kitchen doorway was stunning, Natasha couldn’t deny it, and her eyes darted to the patchwork of tattoos that littered her exposed arms. Their eyes met, and Natasha swore she could see the walls up in the other woman’s mind. But it didn’t scare her off. No. It brought her a weird sense of comfort and her body started to relax.

Clad in a black cropped tank and black cargo pants, Y/n hesitated in the doorway, duffle bag slung over her shoulder hitting the wall gently. Laura appeared behind her, gentle hands falling to her shoulders.

“Y/n, this is Natasha, the one I told you about.” The y/h/c girl made no effort to move. “She’s Clint’s partner.” Clearly not much of a talker, Y/n just nodded, not hiding the fact she was scanning Natasha from head to toe. She didn’t trust strangers, but she trusted Laura and Clint who seemed to love Natasha. So maybe she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, you can call me Nat if you want.” No one called her Nat except Laura, but it was a feeble attempt to make the atmosphere more comfortable. Another nod came but Laura smiled.

“Do you want to go set up? All of your stuff is still exactly where you left it,” Laura addressed Y/n who adjusted the grip on her bag and disappeared down the hall without a word. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at Laura who watched her go, a fond look in her eyes. “She does speak, I promise.”

Natasha shook her head, brushing her off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“She’s like a daughter to me, kind of like you are.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed at that. “She doesn’t have anyone except us, so I worry. She’s a real sweetheart though, she’s just been through a lot. Kind of like someone else I know.”

“I’ll be kind, don’t worry.”

Laura couldn’t help but smile as she stirred her tea. “Oh I know. She already likes you, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Natasha let out a sigh and started to play with the hem of her zip up jacket. It suddenly felt real, the whole tattoo thing. And whilst she weirdly trusted Y/n, it didn’t help ease her nerves any less.

The redhead sensed a new presence before she spotted her, standing in the doorway just like she was before.

“Ready when you are, Nat.” Her voice was slightly raspy from lack of use and she spoke quietly, almost as if she was scared she’d get into trouble. Natasha smiled softly at the sound of her nickname and squeezed Laura’s hand before she followed the y/h/c girl down the hallway of the house she considered her second home.

Clint’s office had been turned into a makeshift tattoo studio with all new equipment and furniture decorating the small space. The tattoo bed had a fresh paper layer on top and Y/n gestured for Natasha to take a seat.

“Ok, do you have an idea of what you want? And where?” Y/n sat down at a small table and picked up her pen before looking at Natasha expectantly.

“I’ve got a couple of reference pictures on my phone.” The small device was handed over and Y/n swiped between them, nodding in approval before setting it down. “The last one is just for placement ideas.”

“I’ll work up a sketch and you can tell me what needs changing.” Luckily Natasha’s design was incredibly simple and it didn’t take long for Y/n to hold up her page.

Natasha slid off the bed and slowly walked over, not wanting to startle the skittish girl. But Y/n just moved over, clearly welcoming the redhead into her space.

“I love that a lot,” Natasha praised, studying the simple lines. “But maybe it could be a bit smaller.”

“I can scale it down when I make the stencil, no problem. But is the design alright? Remember, it is permanent so I want you to be completely happy with it.”

Natasha studied it for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined it on her body. Y/n had talent, anyone could see that even from such a simple drawing, and Natasha nodded before she slid the notebook back to her.

“I love it, I really do.”

Y/n nodded, grabbing her stencil paper from a drawer by her leg. She wordlessly began making the stencil and Natasha took this as her cue to return to her seat. She peered around the room, admiring a few pictures that were on the walls. Incredibly complicated tattoos which she guessed Y/n had done.

The young girl sketching away in the corner thoroughly interested her and something inside Natasha was drawn in. She wanted to get to know her because aside from the shy and hesitant exterior she was effortlessly cool and seemed sweet. Maybe Y/n could be the start of Natasha’s project to make friends.

“If you lie back on the seat and lift your shirt, we can make sure this is exactly how you want it before I start.”

Natasha took a deep breath and slowly lifted her shirt and lowered the waistband of her sweatpants so her hip bone was exposed. She shivered despite the room being warm, fully aware that her nastiest scar was on full display on her lower stomach.

But Y/n didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t make it obvious if it bothered her. “Is it ok if I touch your hip?” She asked, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. The redhead almost melted at her words, not used to ever being asked that question.

“Of course, do what you need.” Y/n’s fingers were soft and delicate as she placed the stencil on Natasha’s skin. She didn’t touch anywhere she didn’t need to and worked quickly, making sure it was fully stuck down before stepping back to allow Natasha to step over to the mirror.

Although it wasn’t permanent, Natasha’s heart was racing as she saw the way the black ink stood out against her pale skin. The symbol was small but perfect in her eyes, and she turned back to Y/n with a grin.

“It’s perfect!”

“Then I’ll get started.”

Due to the design being so small, it took no more than fifteen minutes for Y/n to complete. Her hand was incredibly steady and Natasha’s pain tolerance was so high she barely felt it. The room was silent aside from the faint buzzing, no conversation stemming from either woman. Questions spiralled around Natasha’s head but she knew this wasn’t the place to ask them.

Completely lost in her head, Natasha failed to notice the silence or the fact that her hip bone was no longer burning. Y/n kept working, wiping away the excess ink and making sure she hadn’t missed a spot. But it was perfect, as usual, and she gently tapped Nat on the thigh to snap her out of her head.

“You’re now free to look.”

Natasha grinned and hopped off the bed, holding up her shirt again as she looked in the mirror. Tears almost sprung to her eyes as she admired the finished product, and they probably would have tumbled down her cheeks if she had been alone.

A small spider sat on the front of her hip, legs slightly bent. It looked so delicate on her skin and for the first time in her entire life, Natasha actually liked looking at herself in the mirror.

“It’s so beautiful,” she began to ramble, unable to tear her eyes away. “You’ve got real talent Y/n, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so perfect.”

Y/n blushed and couldn’t stop the smile that graced her lips, catching Natasha’s eyes in the mirror and making the redhead freeze.

Her smile.

The young woman hadn’t smiled the entire time she’d arrived, but seeing her now was like a breath of fresh air. Smiling looked so good on her and Natash couldn’t get enough.

“If you want to show Laura, you can, but you’ll need to come back so I can wrap it safely.” Natasha glanced at her new addition and nodded, but hesitated once she was by the door.

“I think you should come too. The artist and her artwork.” Natasha spoke with a smirk and Y/n couldn’t ever imagine saying no to that woman. So she nodded again, her usual response, and meekly followed her back down the hall, pulling off her gloves as she walked.

Laura was already waiting for them in the kitchen and she placed her reading glasses in her hair to get a good look at Natasha who still hadn’t dropped her shirt down. She’d never seen the Russian with such a wide grin before, her usual collected expression completely out of the window.

“It looks beautiful, Nat, truly. You did such a good job Y/n.”

“You never told me how talented she is!” Natasha stepped to the side to allow Y/n to come forward, but the humble woman stayed where she was, already hating the attention. She didn’t see her art as talent, more like a form of escapism. But it made people happy and that was all she wanted.

“I wanted you to see for yourself,” Laura replied. “And besides, she never believes me when I tell her how good she is.”

“You’re really easy to tattoo. You don’t squirm or cry like other people do, so really I should be thanking you.” Laura was taken aback by Y/n’s comment, not used to more than three words coming out of the girl’s mouth. But the more she observed her, the more she saw her change. The darkness she’d noticed since Y/n was a teenager had lifted a little and she seemed a lot less guarded, looking over at Natasha with a soft expression.

And Natasha looked back at her just the same, purely in awe of how gentle she was. As Y/n gestured for them to return to the office and offered to hold Nat’s shirt, Laura felt like squealing like a child.

Two of her favourite people in the world had found each other and, despite both being so broken and fragile, fit together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other.

Natasha was strong enough and sure of herself enough for the both of them, and Y/n treated her with such delicacy and care that it slowly broke away Natasha’s trust issues and allowed her to open up. And Natasha’s protective nature came out around the other woman, wanting to keep her safe from the world.

With a quick word about going to show Clint, Natasha disappeared into the front yard with her newly wrapped hip, leaving Y/n to find Laura again. The older woman welcomed her with a hug and pulled a chair close to her own.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Y/n kept her gaze on the crossword Laura was doing, not wanting her eyes to give her away if she looked up. “She’s nice.”

“Hey,” Laura said softly, carefully taking Y/n’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the way she flinched but unfortunately she was used to that by now. “You’re not back there. You’re allowed to like her if that’s what you want and feel. She’s a good person, but so are you, you don’t need to be scared.”

Y/n’s eyes followed where their hands were clasped up to Laura’s face, trying to find any hints that showed she was lying. But all that came back was the soft and caring face she’d grown to love, one that didn’t lie to her and didn’t hate her for who she was.

“I don’t like her like that.” Call her a hypocrite for lying, but Y/n had her reasons. Loving a woman was still unnatural in her eyes, despite her contrasting feelings that longed for it.

“Y/n…” Laura’s ‘mom’ tone was one she was used to and she knew she was caught out. “I’m not asking you to tell me now, but you deserve happiness, as does she. And I haven’t seen either of you that relaxed in a really long time. So please don’t push her away.”

Y/n didn’t know what to think. How could she? Her whole life had centred around hating who she was, so how could anyone ever like her like that? It messed with her head and Laura could see that.

But what was Natasha if not a life saver. She came strolling into the kitchen, her tshirt now tucked up into the band of her sports bra to allow her tattoo to be on full display. Y/n smiled slightly at the sight.

Sinking down into the chair beside her, Natasha noticed the clasped hands of the women and wondered what she’d interrupted. But that wasn’t her place to ask, so she turned to Y/n.

“How can I pay you? How much do you charge?”

Y/n shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Laura. “Nothing, honestly. You’re a friend, it’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not. If you won’t take money, at least let me repay you another way.”

“Nat-“

“Dinner? How about you let me take you to dinner next week. You’re from the city, right?” Y/n nodded, her brows creasing. She turned to Laura for help but the older woman just smiled widely and nodded, giving her as much non verbal encouragement as she could. “Please, Y/n?”

She’d said yes before she could even process what was going on. After all, they were just friends going to dinner. People in the movies that she’d seen did it, so she could too.

What was so wrong with that?

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #tattoos #clint barton

[hotluncheddie]

there was mention of chubby eddie by @spectrum-spectre and i felt summoned. its my brand.

wc: 3.5k | rating: M, maybe E at the end | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie munson, fluff, pre & established relationship, mention of weight gain, some subby steve

ao3

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

‘uh.. steve?’ comes eddie voice through the little bathroom door. 

‘…yeah?’ steve’s instantly on edge. what could be so confusing about putting on jeans that eddie voice sounds like that. 

unless. oh god, his stitches. 

‘these are my jeans right?’ comes eddie voice again. and okay. there’s no pain that steve can hear. instead eddie sounds, baffled? 

‘yeah ed’s, got them from the bunch of stuff wayne recovered.’ because he did. why would he give eddie someone else’s jeans? 

eddie opens the door to the bathroom and. oh. ok yeah. steve gets it. 

the jeans button and fly look like they have no hope of closing. not with eddies small, newly gained belly sitting between them. bandages still on in places, skin healing. with no shirt on steve can see that the eddie’s waistband is being pushed apart with the new softness at his waist and hips. that the softness has caused his pecs to curve slightly and the tops of his arms to sit out a little further than they used to, swallowing the lithe lines of muscle that used to be visible. eddie thighs have started to fill in the legs of his jeans, pushing up against the rips above his knees.

‘uh.’ steve says, unhelpfully. there’s really nothing going on in his head right now. 

the only brain cell that seems to be firing on all cylinders is the one attached to his dick. embarrassingly. 

‘i mean, this is good right?’ eddie asks, looking down at himself. splaying a tentative hand across the new upper curve of his stomach. 

steve clears his throat, coughs, feels his cheeks heat up. ‘yeah, yeah man. your recovering. it’s like, totally understandable. and some uh, medications can, you know..’ 

‘make you fat?’ eddie asks. attempting to pull the flaps of his jeans together again, jumping a little for good measure. there’s no way it’s closing and the jumping makes eddie’s new belly jiggle a little. 

‘fuck.’ steve’s mouth supplies, small and breathy, before his brain can catch up and stop him making a fool of himself. 

eddie hears, head snapping up and smirk forming on his lips. 

it’s happened before. eddie doing something and steve making a fool of himself, not quite sure how to handle all the feelings he’s been having about eddie. still too scared to ask if they’re reciprocated. 

‘is it that noticeable?’ eddie ask, coyness fake and syrupy. he turns and looks over his shoulder so steve can see how the weight has also gone straight to his ass. it pulls at the seat and they don’t even cover him fully. waistband biting into where his underwear is visible, cheeks jutting out against it. 

steve feels his mouth open and close dumbly. that one brain cell seems to have also gone offline. all he can process is the churning in his lower gut. 

eddie twists a little further before stopping with a hiss. accidentally pulling at his still tender sides. steve snaps out of it. coming over and handing eddie the sweats he was wearing previously. 

‘these’ll do for now. i’ll take you shopping once you’re up for it, get you back feeling like yourself again.’ steve smiles at him, knowing eddie’s hated not being able to dress like himself while he’s been in the hospital. it’s been gowns and sweatpants and oversized t-shirt only for, steve’s not even sure how long. 

‘sweatpants are still totally metal though right?’ eddie bats his eyelashes and takes the sweats from steve, their fingers brushing. 

‘yeah, to-totally metal.’ steve swallows, feeling himself blush again. he seems too every time he’s at the centre of eddie’s attention. 

eddie smiles, bright and pretty. ‘good.’ he turns and slips back in the bathroom. steve busies himself with packing the last of eddie’s things, ready to take him back to where wayne’s been staying. 

‘i guess it does make sense.’ eddie muses as he comes out of the bathroom fully dressed. ‘medication, months in bed, hospital food.’ he lists as he stuffs his old jeans back in his bag. ‘ugh and mrs henderson’s cookies, god, no way i’m giving those up. or her lasagne, fuck.’ eddie’s eyes roll back in his head at the thought, hand migrating back to that new curve in his gut. 

‘ah, well then, i guess now is actually a good time to give you these.’ steve hands over the tupperware (hoping the slight shake in his hand isn’t noticeable) he’d planned on just leaving it behind quietly later, but. ‘she said it was a welcome home gift, and that’s there’s lasagne in the freezer.’ 

eddie makes grabby hands and rips the lid off. ‘oh fuck yeah.’ he plucks out a cookie and takes huge bite; cheeks rosey, smiling as he chews, eyes bright. 

steve smiles back. thinks eddie looks perfect like this. alive. healthy and living and alive. 

he blinks furiously. clearing his throat. ‘come on! let’s get you home.’ steve hauls eddies bags out the door and down to his car. eddie in tow. 

they pull up to eddie and wayne’s new home, steve noticing the cookies are long gone. 

-

‘uh.. steve?’ comes eddie voice through the little bathroom door of their apartment. 

‘…yeah?’ steve asks, not looking up from his magazine. 

‘these are my jeans right?’ comes eddie voice again, and.. huh? 

‘yeah ed’s, why would you have someone else’s jeans?’ steve asks. baffled. 

steve looks up from the couch once he hears the bathroom door open. and oh. okay yeah. steve get it. 

‘deja fucking vu, babe.’ eddie grins. and yeah, his jeans definitely don’t fit.

he’s long recovered and steves long into confessing his feeling and getting the all too enthusiastic (if a little exasperated at the time it took) feelings reciprocation. 

so now steve can say another choked out little ‘fuck’. but now with a lot more confidence. 

and he can follow it up with stalking over to eddie and stinking down to his knees in front of him. hands coming up to cradle the soft curve of eddie’s underbelly. feeling his pupils blow at the soft weight of it, the way his face sinks in when he gives it a kiss. 

because eddie’s recovery weight at fist plateaued and then steadily rose. over the course of them being together, cooking together, steve learning to bake from mrs h. eddie starting a job he loves over at the music store alongside teaching guitar lessons. steve having time to make him lunches in between shifts at the gym, where he works as a personal trainer and yoga instructor. where he can come home to his partner splayed out on the couch, smoked out and whining about the munchies and steve can make something for him. look after him like he always wants to. keen when eddie’s hand slips into his hair, saying thank you for the food with a sweet smile and kiss on his lips. and steve can curl up next to eddie, into his soft warmth, and think about nothing at all. 

right now steve’s brains thinking about nothing but the belly before him. pushing the flaps of eddie’s jeans apart like that day in the hospital, but these jeans are a couple sizes bigger. still ripped at the knee and still mostly fitting around the thigh. eddie’s legs and hips never taking the brunt of his weight. that’s saved for his belly and arms. but it’s coming up to thanksgiving and steve’s being trying to perfect his pumpkin pie recipe. nothing much ever goes to waste in this house. and the evidence of that is in front of him now. pushing out agains the waistband and pulling at the seat (one of steves hands having migrated around to grope at eddies ass). 

eddie huffs, sliding his ringed fingers into steve’s hair and tugging. ‘on your knees already baby?’ eddie looks down at steve over his gut and all steve can do is whine. 

‘so needy.’ eddie tisks but steve sees the smile pulling at his lips, the love spilling from his eyes.  

steve sits back on his heels, hands on his thighs, opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue. 

‘fuck.’ eddie groans. hand coming up to splay over that upper curve of his stomach, a habit that’s really never gone away. other hand grabbing at his soft peck, knowing the sight sends steve wild. 

‘please let me. you looks so good eddie, please.’ steve’s panting, opening his mouth again and letting his tongue loll back out. it’s slick with saliva and steve feels a drop splatter onto his bare thigh, the hem of his running shorts sitting up in his hip crease. 

‘sorry baby, but i’ve gotta go out remember?’ eddie’s voice is full of teasing and condescension. eddie attempts to tug the flaps of his jeans back together again. jumping a little like those years ago. even lifting his belly with one hand and attempting to do up the button single-handedly with the other. 

steve feels his cock leak. 

‘ok, help me find jeans that fit and maybe i’ll give you something in return.’ eddie huffs once he’s finished his little display. smirking down at steve and the likely visible wet spot at the front of his shorts. 

once the words filter through steve’s horny brain fog he scrambled up, running into the bedroom. 

eddie laughs, delighted, and follows steve through. 

#chubby eddie munson #my girl dinner #steddie #steve x eddie #weight gain fic #hotlunch #my fic #<3 #steddie wg

[caramel-maveeato]

ᴅᴏᴋɪ ᴅᴏᴋɪ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: Eonni’s Gang’s unofficial couturier getting spellbound by the legendarily toe-curling rizzler So Mun (ft. real footage of Ga Motak being a professional matchmaker for 1k words straight)… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x Fem!reader ♡ Genre: fluff, assumed relationship, reader is a simp in denial. ♡ TW: slightly suggestive, slight cursing, slight implication of bi-panic (it doesn’t indicate the reader is bi tho it’s just common sense to get skfjlsiglg when both Hana and Motak are in the room), might have been inserted a few TUC inside jokes and genZ slangs cus i was going insane over midterms i apologize ♡ word count: 3.7k

(request is here) Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Who would’ve guessed there was legitimately a place for the dead to arrive after life? Not exclusively for the completely-dead, though, it was created for close-to-dead people as well, like in your case right now. 

You remembered girl-bossing a little too close to the sun and falling into a coma over… whatever. But instead of sinking into everlasting gloom where you could no longer feel or think like how those Hollywood movies portrayed, you were embraced by a bleached-clothed person who flung you back and forth between a fonded place of your memory and a blank white setting just as bleached, informing you about the world full of “evil spirits” and lecturing you into becoming a “counter” if you wished to continue living. 

Since you were too young and beautiful, you refused to gaf about the possible risks of getting unalived for the second time, closed-eyedly concluding the verbal contract for a (hopefully) glorious future. 

“Um…”

Six pairs of eyes leaped over at you. Ms. Chu swallowed her noodles before responding: “What’s the matter?”

“Well, I…” 

You scratched the back of your neck out of instinct, briefly making eye contact with the rest of the table: “I’ve told you that I used to work in the fashion field, right?”

The chairman nodded his head: “Yeah, you did mention that the first day you came here."

There is no way you could back out now, not after you have entirely mustered the attention. Rotating unsaid words in your mouth while you observed their expressions one last time, hoping no one would find your sudden proposal weird: “If you don’t mind, is it alright if I… take your measurements and make some outfits? I just think it would be nice to at least do something in return for all the help I’ve been getting from you. I know it’s not a lot but…”

And that was how you ended up here, pacing around with a tailor’s ruler and a notepad. 

Your suggestion wasn’t really approved at first as the team reassured you that it wasn’t just their responsibility to be your advisor but, at the same time, they were happy to be there for you, and that you shouldn’t be bothered to “return” the favor. But who are you to stop? All the remaining brain cells of yours congregated to list down every possible reason why this was what you deeply desired to do, including your “burning passion for fashion” and “essentiality for experience and modeling purposes.” 

Thankfully, they all accepted your offer after ten minutes of hesitation. 

Scribbling Jeokbong’s results down on the piece of paper, you scanned around, looking for the last person your notepad was still missing: “Where’s So Mun?”

Hana zipped up her hoodie that had been removed earlier for you to record her sizes, nonchalantly answering: “In his room, I suppose. His phone died so he said he’s going to charge it real quick.”

You thanked her before grabbing the equipment and making your way to the place mentioned. The hallway submerged itself in peaceful tranquility, conversations feebly reverberated back from the dinner table where your teammates gathered.

You knocked on So Mun's door to announce your presence, which was unnecessary since he was quick to notice you through the circular window: “Hey, do you mind if I…?”

“My turn already?” So Mun watched you nod with his signature amiable smile: “Sure. Do you need me to step outside?”

Sneaking a peek through the furniture and simple decorations, you stopped at his figure and moved closer. For some reason, the floor felt strangely unfamiliar as if you were a fawn testing its first step: “Nah, right here should also be fine, this won’t take long.” 

The soothing atmosphere was filled with the subtle rustling of the measuring tape. Each touch of the tape was deliberate, like a delicate caress, ensuring precision in every little detail. You made a mental note of the circumference of his wrist and the length of his arm. So Mun was also very cooperative, staying still with a straight posture while you interchanged small talk: “So, what kind of outfits do you plan on making?”

You hummed, letting out a chuckle when he cracked up from the ticklishness of the stroke: “I’m not sure yet, maybe I can hear what your preference is after this? That way I can get a plus point for customer service too, a win-win for us.”

He lightheartedly went along with your playfulness: “Oh, I can’t wait!”

“Um-hm, now don’t squirm around or I’m gonna put you in a Chucky fit.”

“So we also do cosplay? Interesting,”

Soft laughter resonated. You were so diverted by the bubbly ambiance flowing from So Mun that you didn’t notice you had leaned over to slide the tape behind his neck, encircling it attentively to avoid any signs of discomfort. It was a calming afternoon, causing the source of light to be perceptibly minimized. As much as you tried to pin your focus on the assessment, your unamenable mind kept on targeting his lower-half face that popped into your view. 

So Mun was adorned with a kiss from the dim sunlight glow, and for this one time you were given a chance to admire him this close, you were dazed to see how ideally shaped his jawline was, sharp enough to cut grass while the plumpness of his lips tamed the roughness down, two aspects blending perfectly like yin and yang.

Now you knew why the ground felt strange and your stomach flipped. 

In front of you stood a young man who seemed to have stepped out of a webtoon where its protagonist was an underrated visual until the later season. Charismatic and fascinating, his gentle yet chiseled features must’ve been carved out under the skilled hands of the most proficient sculptor, embellished by an air of youthfulness. 

From the very first glance, you were absolutely convinced that So Mun was, indeed, a local heartthrob. 

His effortless charm easily attracted gazes and turned heads among those who crossed his path. Dark, tousled curls framed a face that was abundantly favored by the eyes, easy to remember but not easy to forget. His thick brows added the final touch to the astounding side profile and praised a pair of expressive gemstones that accommodated secrets untold. His pupils illustriously mirrored a pellucid surface of the water, holding both innocence and wisdom within those splendid irises that had been dyed in a ravishing deep brown color. 

And the scariest part was that every time you laid your eyes on him, he seemed to become prettier. 

Now that you have stumbled across his vicinity, you secretly prayed to every known religion (or just your own sanity in general) that you would commit nothing out-of-character to give away how bad you’ve already grown to fancy this man. Or else… there will be no “or else.”

Still, something had been peculiarly off. 

It must’ve occurred to be some kind of hormonal chemical imbalance going wild right now. Because hell, the last time you found yourself feeling so jumpy around another person was when Hana nearly knocked you out after twenty minutes of physical abuse training (trust me, she did go 10x easier on you compared to how she went on So Mun and Jeokbong). But this specific man right here was not your mentor, nor was he about to beat you to a pulp. All he did was exist and let you take his measurements, periodt. 

Maybe he was just remarkably snatched? It couldn’t be since your adrenaline level didn’t act (this) weird around Hana and Motak. Sure, your heart rate did climb notably when situated in close proximity with them, but with So Mun in particular? 

It skyrocketed.  

A long, deep breath silently expanded your lungs, working extra hard to untie the obstructive tensity. You stared at the tiny numbers on the tape measure and mentally repeated it two hundred times in an effort to inscribe the result in memory. However, it was suddenly an impossible task because of how disconnected your mind was at the moment.

So Mun was too close to you right now. Not dangerously close, yet the distance was limited enough for your head to spin and your heart to pound. 

You have no clue if you should embrace this internal madness or not, but you certainly acknowledged that your lucidity and dignity were shrinking after each passing second. It’s going to be bad if you don’t get out of here soon. 

“Y/n, why’s your face so red?” 

Shit.

“What? No.” You denied without missing a beat, which laid bare your disobliging trepidation almost right away from how fast you responded.

So Mun marginally narrowed his eyes with plain disagreement: “Yes, it is. You’re not feeling unwell anywhere, are you?” 

An invisible sigh of relief dropped when you realized he wasn’t aware of the tangible distraction you felt around him but rather centered the strange enhancement of color on your cheeks. You assured yourself that it was only you manifesting the accusation against yourself, so you tried gaslighting him into thinking he was the drama instead: “I’m fine, really. Are you sure it’s not you who is seeing things?”

“Huh? But your face wasn’t red like this earlier, I swear I’m not mistaken.”

Unfortunately for you, So Mun’s intelligence ran in his family. So you must’ve been in your sweet dream to expect a detectives’ son would be fooled by such a half-assed reason.

Each motion of yours was helplessly cornered like a prey waiting to be demolished under his unceasing focus, especially when two of you were the only ones in the room right now, all alone and suspicious: “Hold up, if you’re not sick… why are you blushing?”

Your mouth was clenched shut. Even the tiniest sound pealed loudly in the current confined space, reflecting your nervous gulp as clear as day. 

So Mun called your name again after the short pause, sounding even gentler than how he usually spoke in that… ludicrously charming voice of his: “Y/n.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me…” The way he drew the last syllable out slightly longer hurled a thud into your chest, sparking your diffidence. You heaved your eyes to meet his own only to regret your decision immediately as you were welcomed by a cunning smile he tried hard to suppress: “...you’re getting shy?”

You squinted and looked down, knowing damn well you, in fact, were shy as fuck: “No. Why would I be?”

“Yes, you are, you can’t see yourself right now but I can, you’re blushing all over the place. You were fine just now, were you not? Why suddenly get shy?” He closely beheld your reaction, allowing a grin to plaster as the traitorous shade of pink on your cheeks evidently declared how you truly felt: “Is it because of me?” 

“Because of you?” Knowing he had successfully caught you red-handed, you tried the hardest to play it off cool with a sassy eye roll while hanging the tape just a couple of millimeters away from the width of his shoulders: “Where did you even get that from? 

“From the way you act?”

“Dear customer, you’re delusional.”

“Am I?” 

“Yes, you are.” 

Instinctively holding your breath, you enclosed the measuring tape around So Mun’s chest with great caution, arduously ignoring how you could already tell his physique was too attractively in shape under that black compression shirt. Every time he inhaled and exhaled, the tape stretched ever so slightly then loosened after the relief— Fuck, okay, stop. 

“Am I really delusional or are your hands shaking right there?”

This little shi– did not just call you out like that. 

His voice vibrated down from the top of your head, bordering between intentional cockiness and unintentional flirtatiousness. You never discerned that your fingers had grown to tremor abstractedly due to how faint the movement was, yet he could easily detect your restlessness just from a few playful glimpses. Never in your life you felt this terribly exposed in front of someone. It was like he could see right through you like a piece of glass.  

“You…” Shamefulness followed you like your own shadow. The immense heat on your cheeks was no longer pleasant to say the least: “Stop talking. Just let me get this done.” 

On the other hand, So Mun, whether or not had progressed to be fond of your painfully flustered self, mindlessly dropped the ultimate bomb on you: “Do you like me?”

You swore you saw your heart fly out and wheel around the ceiling in horror. 

If the tape measure wasn’t made of plastic, it would’ve been torn in half between your violent grip. You bit the inside of your cheek timidly and landed a weak punch on his shoulder. Agitation and embarrassment blanketed your half-whisper: “Just… be quiet, Mun.”

“Fine, fine, I was just joking. I’ve never seen you get this red before and…” So Mun laughed softly, though the laughter quickly dissolved into quietude as he caught a menacing glare from you: “Guess I got carried away, my bad.” 

Speaking of the truth, he didn’t mean any harm rather than just breezy teasing. It was you and your hormonal, backstabbing blush that created the whole awkward situation. You shifted your ruler down and laced it around his waistline, half of the frustration in your tone replaced with sheepishness: “You sure did have a lot of fun, didn’t you?”

“But you’re so cute like this… ” His chuckle brightened the air. Even though you weren't in the mood to appreciate the random compliment, just the word “cute” itself was enough to awaken those dormant flowers in your stomach and rush them into vigorously blossoming like it was a sunny spring day. 

You fought back a pout from arising, not sure if you should continue putting up an annoyed act. But before you could respond, your entire body froze as his voice suddenly appeared to be alarmingly close to your ear, tender like a passing cloud except it could facilely have you where he wanted if he ever wanted to. 

“C’mon, don’t lower your head, I’ll stop pointing your blush out.” 

Despite your concentration still being attached to his waist as you read the measured number, his toned abdominal muscles that somewhat divulged themselves under the thin compression shirt were nowhere near your zone of attention. Your nail dug into the tape, feeling your composure slowly fracture like a dainty little eggshell ready to be crushed. Timidity dispersed as uncontrollably as a broken dam when So Mun’s warm breath fanned your skin. 

It didn’t seem like he had a single clue as to how his gesture—purely coming from curiosity—tremendously affected you. The more he dipped his head and leaned closer to yours, the louder you heard your own heartbeat roaring.  

You turned away to hide how vulnerability had completely enveloped your face. A tiny crack echoed in your voice as you stuttered, trying to break free from his oblivious stare: “So– So Mun…”

“Hm?” The fire under your skin rapidly magnified within just a blink of an eye, to the point you were afraid it would explode, yet he still didn’t catch on to the silent plea in the way you called his name, instead taking it as a warning that you were getting exasperated: “Don’t be mad at me, I promise I’ll be quiet.” 

Even the sketches and doodles hung on the wall avowedly held their breath as if acknowledging the hide-and-seek negotiation unfolding before them. You clutched your eyelids closed and your body stiffened, dodging his gaze like dodging bullets. 

One sense had shut down, offering a chance for other senses to intensify. As So Mun leaned down searching for your face, the minty and earthy note of his shampoo washed over your nostrils, delightfully freshened from the vague men's cologne you smelled first stepping into the room. 

His breath ignited on your awfully reddened ear, goosebumps traveling up your spine while his scent created an intoxicating merge into your source of oxygen: “Let me see your face, will you?”

Suddenly, pressing under your chin were warm fingers that had calloused up from life journeys, determined yet tender and careful enough not to startle you as he tried to lift your chin up: 

“Come on, I don’t bite.”

“What takes you kiddos so lon— Oh my, are you two kissing?” 

From the inside of So Mun’s room, you could already hear noises of flabbergastation ringing like afterschool bells due to the exclamation. 

You and So Mun jumped away from each other like getting struck by electricity as soon as you saw Motak’s face appear behind the door’s window, amusement wafting in the way he looked at you two. You almost choked to death in your own panic, words collapsing when they reached your mouth: “It’s not what it looks like!! We’re just— We— I’m just taking his measurements!”

“Then why are your faces so close together?” Motak moved aside for you to storm out of the tension-filling room, raising his brows with great gaiety when So Mun followed your way out like a puppy. The tape measure was grasped brutally in your palm, hoping to be counted as evidence. But catching the wide grin that had seemingly been engraved on the older man’s lips, you doubted he’d buy your excuses.  

“Wait, so you were about to kiss and I interrupted? Damn, sorry lovebirds.” 

“No! It’s— we really did not…” Footsteps clouded the hallway, the whole team was quick to be summoned for the delicious tea. Out of the blue you lost all nerves to face them, your explanation slowly dissipated into a nonverbal ‘yes’ to the accusation with how much speechlessness you assembled. 

Hana tilted her focus at your skin’s crimson tint, her hidden protectiveness loomed out of armor and she threateningly gave the origin of your blush a good nudge: “Yah So Mun-ah, why is Y/n’s face so red? What did you do to her?!”

Gazes launched over the man of the moment with suspicion, making him hold his hands up in defense: “What do you mean, noona? I swear I didn’t do anything!”

He turned to you for confirmation, but your exchange of looks was impeded when Ms. Chu walked over to wrap her motherly hands around you, cooing with adoration and happiness as if she'd just listened to your wedding vows: “Oh dear, I knew it from the start you two would make such a cute couple. I’m so happy for you my babies.”

You swallowed heavily: “But we’re not—” 

“I can’t believe these two have made it this far, even faster than us…” The chairman ignored So Mun’s refuting head shake (as well as Ms. Chu’s side eye), giving both of you a thumbs up: “Right, Chu-yeosa?” 

“Don’t bring me into this.”

From the other side, Jeokbong engulfed So Mun in a side hug and patted his back pridefully: “I’m proud of you, very proud, So Mun-ah. We raised you so well, even getting a girlfriend before your hyung.”

“Hyung, listen to me—”

“Our So Munie, I never knew you had that in you, hm? Now you punk got the team’s stylist all to yourself.” Your beloved found-fam didn’t give you any opportunities to prove yourself innocent. Motak elbowed So Mun playfully with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The more he talked, the more gasoline was poured into the flame of your embarrassment: “Anyone surely gets bolder near a pretty girl, right?”

Hana took a sip of her Milkis: “Isn’t it supposed to be the opposite?” 

“Everyone, hold on a second.” You spoke up, almost sounding desperate: “ So Mun and I have nothing to do with each other, this is just a misunderstanding.” 

Pausing shortly after your clarification, you looked over at him in search of a helping hand:  “Right?”

“Huh– yeah, right. We… Y/n is right. Plus, we’ve only met not long ago, how can anything develop between us this quickly?” So Mun hastily nodded his head. Both of you took turns clearing up the affair:

“Exactly, he’s right.” 

The hallway seemed to hold time in place, slowly absorbing your explanation as amused stares remained affixed to you and him.

The chairman quirked his eyebrows up: “So nothing, huh? More like nothing yet.”

“Let’s see how long you can keep denying.” You inwardly facepalmed yourself, your ears burning ferociously pink as Motak shot you a knowing smile. Levity once again suffused the air when you caught him leaning into Ms. Chu’s ear and whispering; both of them then snickered loud enough for you to hear: “I bet a month.”

“I’m serious, we’re not gonna—” 

“Oh, did I say something?”

Hana casually waved her hand in dissent, not even attempting to stop a half-smile from permeating her gorgeous face: “I bet longer. Look at how much they already lost their cognition just from being in the same room, they’re hopeless.”

Jeokbong briskly chimed in: “Like how Ms. Chu and the chairman are?”

“What did you say?!” 

Rambunctious laughter followed the sight of Ms. Chu smacking Jeokbong on the back. It was pure chaos, but not in a bad way. 

A chuckle managed to slip through your lips. The awkwardness was no longer bothersome but rather narrowed down into a silly feeling in your chest. You cast a glance at your assumed partner, coincidentally locking eyes with one another as his attention had also rested on you since forever. 

You spotted a trace of rosiness sprinted across So Mun’s cheeks, perhaps it had unwittingly blossomed when you were still committed to clearing up the dating scandal. And he smiled—one that was sheepish but sweet nonetheless, one that sent you into a hall of chaotically winging butterflies. Unspoken words lingered in the air, but you didn't mind them. 

If luck would have it, this could be the start of something incredible. But that’s only the matter of the upcoming future, right now?

You just figured out you’ve deadass forgotten all of the measurements you took of So Mun…

[Tag List]✿⌦ @slytherinshua (feel free to notify me if you want to be on the tag list)

Lol i tried making it as spicy as “kiss and makeup” since the request asked for suggestive but us and Mun've only met for a short period of time i didnt know if we should kiss (yet). Hope this is okay @acupnoodle thank you for the cute idea ily ♡

#the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #uncanny counter #so mun #so mun x reader #do hana #ga mo tak #chu mae ok #choi jang mul #na jeok bong #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

[mlm-writer]

Filling (Peter Parker x M!Reader)

Pairing: Omega!Peter Parker (TASM ver.) x Alpha!Kryptonian!Cis!Male!Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1221 POV: Second Summary: Peter is in heat and has the baby fever. As his mate, it is your duty to help him make it through the heat. Note: Merging requests now in the hopes to one day get my inbox empty Tags: omegaverse, no mpreg, mentions of getting pups, breeding, multiple orgasms, knotting, overstimulation, is it spidey sense or is Peter just autistic (both if you ask me), fluffy smut, established relationship, biting/marking and a little aftercare

Peter could hear the moisture being pumped through the wall by the aircon. He felt every breeze of cold air circle through his bedroom. The cold wind played with a receipt on top of the dresser. Each rustle of paper set off his Spidey sense, the instinct telling him there was danger everywhere. There was danger everywhere lurking. He had to protect his pups. He did not have pups (yet). Peter tried making his nest on the bed air tight, but it was no use. Every second made him more antsy than the previous one. That was until the door opened and his boyfriend came running in. The instant waft of fresh alpha pheromones was like a douse of cold water on a hot day. 

You had seen through the door how anxious Peter was. His heart was hammering, breathing almost just as rapid. However, it couldn’t be helped. You had run out of water way sooner than you had anticipated and needed more. “I am so sorry, omega, I’m here,” you cooed as you put the two dozen one litre bottles of water by the door, taking a few to scatter them across the room. Peter made a whiny sound from under his pile. He was near-overheating and yet he had nestled himself there. You rushed over to the windows, closed the small gap that had formed between the curtains. When you were sure the light in the room was minimal, you started removing pillows from the top of the pile, until you saw some brown hair peeking out. 

As soon as you gave that mess a peck, Peter emerged, pulling at your clothes. You had just worn a zipper hoodie and sweatpants that could be pulled down in one go. The choice of outfit had been deliberate. Peter got you out of your fit without ripping anything and immediately pressed his nose against your scent glands. He inhaled deeply. “I need your babies, alpha,” he demanded, voice trembling with the need that seemed to be soaking his bones. You could smell the slick dripping down his thighs. You knew he could not have your babies due to Kryptonian DNA being incompatible with his mutated DNA, but you indulged in his fantasy; logic was about the last thing your mate needed right now.

“I’ll breed you properly, my sweet omega,” you whispered as you pushed Peter down onto the bed. He smacked the pillows around, until he was lying down comfortably, legs spread wide to invite his alien mate. His scent alone was enough to arouse you, the heat pheromones doing exactly what they were designed for. 

When you entered him, Peter found something beyond relief. It was like finding a guiding light in a storm of emotions and needs beyond even his own comprehension. With his focus on your big cock pushing at his walls, he could no longer pay attention to his spidey sense going crazy over every sound in the room and every texture on his skin. With his alpha caging him against the bed, the musky alpha scent blocked out all other scents. The endless stream of sensory input was intercepted and all that his brain needed to process from here on was his strong alpha, his love, his mate. His alpha was going to keep him safe. He was going to give him pups. He wanted - no, needed - it. 

Peter could hear his alpha’s cells charged with solar energy from his brief run to get more water. The energy buzzed in his skin and Peter could almost feel the hum on his own skin. The strong Kryptonian lifted him up with ease, holding him close while pounding his greedy, wet hole violently. Peter cried for more, needing all his senses filled with the other man. He needed to feel his alpha and his alpha only. You were the shelter that could protect him and his pups from the hazards of the outside world.

You could see how far away Peter was. He was always like this during his heat, overstimulated to the max and needing you to give him a singular focus. Your Kyptonian powers proved useful in providing you all the information you could want on his vitals. He would need to drink soon, but you knew he would not without having at least one orgasm. So you held him closer, using your super strength to lift him up and put him against the wall, railing him like that until he let out a loud cry and he made a mess. “So good for me, omega. Keep going for me. Come on, again.” Peter wailed as he obeyed your command. You could feel his orgasm dripping down your skin. The scent of his own climaxes mixed with the spice of sex in the air, overwhelmed Peter’s senses. He trashed as his brain was assaulted by the arousing olfactory stimuli. He forced his eyes open, meeting yours as you kept your foreheads pressed together while rearranging his insides. 

It was hard to keep yourself from finishing too soon. Peter was scorching around you. His cries were almost deafening, but you did not want it to stop; he was just too ravishing with tears pooling at the corners of his eyes and his mouth open as if he couldn’t believe he was having a third orgasm so soon. You tangled your fingers in his sweaty hair and pulled his head to the side, your teeth sinking into the faded mating scar. Peter cried out and spasmed as the sensations flooded him. Your teeth drew his fourth orgasm out of him. You licked over the red skin, knowing it would bruise later and even looking forward to seeing it. 

There was only so much you could do. Eventually even your steel willpower could not keep your knot from swelling up, locking you in as you filled Peter with incredible volume. “Yes, thank you alpha, so full,” Peter sobbed, “I can feel your pups already, alpha.” You groaned and forced Peter’s face into the crook of your neck, making sure his nose was pressed against your scent gland. Peter’s mumbling grew incoherent as you thrusted your knot as much as you could while locked together like this. He babbled on about pups, his body trembling from the overstimulation. Your legs were shaking too, the weight of him was easy to endure, but the tightness gripping at your knot was less so. 

You were glad when you felt Peter’s body going slack. He was barely conscious by the time you carried him to the bed, sitting against the headboard with him in your lap. Your knot kept your bodies close together, but you could still reach for one of the water bottles you placed near the bed. After a good few gulps, you pressed the opening of the bottle against Peter’s glistening lips. It took a few bumps, before he realised he needed to drink. 

With your help, Peter managed to drink, before slumping back against you. You smiled as you caressed his sweaty back, drinking in his scent and relaxing in the eye of the storm. Later you would have to do this all over again, but for now, all you could hear in the bedroom was the whirring aircon and the heartbeat of the man you loved. 

#tasm #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #tasm peter parker #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel x you #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction

[doodle-pops]

The Intoxication of Pleasure

Maglor x reader x Celegorm

A/N: A very happy birthday to my best chaotic girlie who shares a single braincell with me @someoneinthestars!! I hope you enjoy what my brain cells have put together for you!! Luv yah!! I've been impatiently waiting for more than 2 months to post this :)

Warnings: fem!reader, threesome, dom–sub dynamics, double penetration, fingering (vaginal and anal), cunnilingus, slight rimming, anal and vaginal penetration, sub!reader, soft dom!Maglor, rough dom!Celegorm, doggystyle, impact play (spanking), body-worshipping, praising, pet names (princess, kitten, vixen, sweetheart), titty sucking, overstimulation, mirror kink, jealousy, unrealistic sex, voyuerism and exhibitionism, mention of reader being a recently deflower

Words: 8.3k

Synopsis: You find yourself caught between the bedsheets in a spontaneous rendezvous with two desirable Noldorin Princes.

“Easy princess, deep breaths…atta girl. You’re doing so well for me.” His voice was more compelling and intoxicating than you last recalled. No, that was a lie; his voice always made you drunk and left you stumbling about the place, lost out of your mind. It stripped you bare and laid you on a table before him like some sacrificial offering—not that you minded. Or perhaps, you did mind. When other maidens flocked to the Noldorin prince like the dangerously, beautiful devil he was, and he returned all their attention, how could you compete? You had nothing to compare, not even a candle to their flame, and yet through the miracle of the unspoken prayer, you found yourself basking in ultimate pleasure.

Riddled by the toxicity of his fingers as they searched for your sweet spot, desperate to listen to the endless chorus of your moans to which he devoured, they crooked and twisted devilishly. His lips gave your neck kisses, planting a litter of purple artwork as he trailed up and down, relishing in the vibrations and echoes in each chord he struck. So easily with a curl of his middle finger, he brushed your sweet spot and relinquished a relieving sigh from your lips. Without hesitation, his saccharine lips, dripping with honey fell upon yours to suck the melody out.

A prince as highly esteemed and noble as he would place his lips upon those of a nobody. A nobody who could not even look at themselves in the mirror. What did he see in you, surely not your beauty?

“You’re thinking too much My Lady—I can see the tension in your face…” His whisper trailed off as he leaned forward to carry his lips away from yours and kiss the centre of your brow. “Relax, tonight is all about you.”

You hadn’t the courage to reply, you still didn’t know how you responded the first time he offered to take you to bed. Did you nod, squeak, moan, bark, howl? For a guaranteed fact, your words were not used—so you believed. Nevertheless, whichever response you gave, it allowed you to lie bare beside the completely garmented Prince with his fingers buried deeply within your cunt, searching for the treasure you locked away. His touches were fleeting, everywhere all at once, and leaving your skin on fire. Goosebumps rose with each touch and ghosting of his breath.

“M-My P-…Prince…ah!” you gasped as your words were cut off from the skilful act of having your chords struck. A whine followed along with your hands curling into his shirt and popping a few buttons off. His skills were phenomenal to pull such an easy reaction out of you—now you understood why he was the greatest harpist of all time. Brushing his lips against your cheek, his lashes fluttered like a butterfly’s wings against your skin. His breathing was ghosting your skin and leaving goosebumps scattered everywhere. It didn’t matter the direction he came from or the strategy he used; you were putty in his hands.

“Ah, ah, ah. Maglor darling, it is Maglor,” he sighed, “if I’m taking a beautiful maiden like yourself to bed, we might as well become comfortable…because you will be moaning it later.”

There it was again. The undeniable, attractiveness of his voice and charisma. Every syllable that rolled off his tongue was perfection sucking you in like quicksand. Somewhere out in the desert he found and brought you into his mirage, treating you like a desert rose. The only difference was his mirage being perceptible.

Shutting your eyes because the sensation was too much, far less the intensity of his baby-blue eyes locked on your features, you tossed your head into his collarbones. Your position in his eyes appeared discomforting, leading him to hook your right leg over his left hip. Lying side by side and facing each other while his finger languorously thrust in and out your cunt, it was easier for him to pepper your face with more kisses and fill your mind with praises. Maglor was observant enough to distinguish the difference between a confident and unconfident woman. If you were bedding him, he wanted you to hold your head high as he took you into a field of pleasure.

Show him proudly that his pleasure was satisfying for a woman of your calibre. Show him his ability to make the intangible matter as much as the tangible. Prove to him that you value yourself above all others and praise your beauty as being the reason he was captivated to lust after you, a desert rose. Your delicacy and elegance despite your lack of experience was all too enthralling to not have you to himself—an admittance he would soon come to grumble over.

Pulling his two fingers out, listening to your whines and chuckling lowly, they danced around your entrance. A third finger had joined the mix and dipped in and out your entrance to secrete itself in your arousal; if you were going to take him, minimal pain to make the excitement pleasurable. Maglor refused to indulge in the inexperienced business of re-entering a recently deflowered lady. You were still sensitive to touch and pleasure, delicacy must be ensured. “Can you take a deep breath for me princess—just breath in…breath out…”

Following his words, hooked on every syllable like it was ambrosia, your breathing stilled before your chest heaved slowly to inhale and then exhale. The moment your body relaxed, there was the breaching of his fingers with the addition of tightness. The slight discomfort you first faced when he used two fingers returned as he used three. Somewhere in the distance while you focused on clenching and unclenching around his digits, Maglor was moaning and gasping under his breath at the awaiting tightness he would soon experience.

“You’re going so good for me, love,” he praised once again.

Your replies were broken moans and mewl the more his finger slunk further along your gummy walls. You felt stuffed from just his fingers; you knew he was more than those fingers judging from the bulge you felt earlier. Once all three digits were nestled nicely within your cunt, they flexed and crooked immediately to attack your sweet spot, not bothering to thrust or twist, competently. Maglor knew from the sheer pressure building up as your pleasure increased, that it wouldn’t take long for you to achieve the high he sought from the start.

The painfully digging of your nails as they switched from the front of his shirt to his biceps, curled and dug into his skin leaving moon crescents. At this point, he had no care for what happened to his garments—you could tear them apart for all he cared—they no longer mattered. You were the prize, the target, the treasure he sorted and lusted after; to have you he shall.

Continuing the arching of his fingers, his thumb stretched upwards and rested casually on your clit to rub lazy circles. It was the response he expected, your legs became incapacitated and spasmed around his slender waistline. Your body was torn between wanting to run away or stay bound to the pleasure, and Maglor was pleasantly gracious to assist you with a complex decision when his right hand snaked around your back and locked you in place. A heavenly sight you were the more you convulsed and moaned breathlessly in his arms. You clung to him like a leech the more his fingers abused your sweet spot.

“Just like that sweetheart…just like that. You’re almost there,” he cooed as he pressed his lips to your forehead, “come now my flower, cum for me.”

His words were a compulsive drug for within the moment they left his lips, your body reacted instantaneously. Clenching around his fingers and placing them within a vice grip, it felt like your walls were attempting to mould themselves and take their shape—an interesting act your body displayed. Your mind might have been foggy and attempting to unscramble the reason why a beautiful Prince would desire you, but your cunt was blatantly giving hearts and hugs as though it already knew why. Consider yourself slow or uncertain to believe that the Prince found you attractive.

Vibrating in his arms as your dams broke and coils snapped, tears sprung from your eyes. The little droplets of saline rolled down your cheek and dampened the collar of Maglor’s shirt, adding to the endless drool that soaked the material—not that he didn’t mind. “Shush, it’s alright darling, it’s alright. Just take a deep breath and breathe…”

Lifting your head out the crevice of his neck, you stared at him through your blurry eyes and sniffled. You never had the pleasure of experiencing an orgasm, be it solo or with a helping hand, and it was orgasmic. The slight shivers of your body were slowly fading, leaving behind random jolts to attack your senses. It didn’t help when Maglor nudged his head against yours to meet his devilish eyes before the feeling of a pair of lips colliding against yours. He was sending you into another bliss when his tongue slipped past your lips after the gentle nibbling of his teeth on your lower lip. You had no experience kissing the linguistically famed artist, even if though you engaged with him minutes earlier, no progress was made.

The left hand that was wedged between your thighs withdrew, smearing your arousal on your skin as it travelled upwards to grip your jaw and keep your steady. It felt like fire and ice blazing your skin at the same time. The thought of him smearing your arousal across your skin would have been a revolting act but caught up in the rapture of sweet passion, it turned you on more—much to your self-esteem. Your arousal flowed the more you locked lips and tongue and thought about his decorating you like his favourite artwork. It wasn’t often, or never, someone loved the image of your silhouette. You were caught in trepidation, resisting the urge to gag at the revelation of the Prince truly wanting to savour your temple.

Wanting to deepen the kiss, Maglor pushed against the tides and rolled you onto your back, hovering above. Knees between your legs, he pushed aside his robes to give you more samples of what was to come. He rubbed his bulge against your aching core, snickering at the high-pitched whines that escaped your lips and the frantic spasming of your legs. The sensation was too much, it was overstimulating, not that he cared. He was greedy and drowning in lust.

“You sound so beautiful when you sing like that.” He pulled away to kiss your neck. “I love the sounds you make for me.” Another was placed under your earlobe before his lips dragged lower to attach themselves at the junction. A vividly bright flower was left for the world to see and know he claimed you as his.

Squirming under him, your hips wiggled and rocked against his erection as the pleasure grew substantially. “Ma-…Maglor, fuck! Please, please…more,” you begged and tossed your head backwards.

At first, he hummed at your request before breaking into a chuckle. Feeling a sense of pride whelming in his chest, he leaned closer to whisper into your skin, “You want me to give you more princess? Is it that good?”

“It would be if you stopped teasing her so damn much and give her what she desired. I’ll tell you what, you really are the worst when it comes to teasing people Káno.”

Your body froze at the intrusion of another invading your privacy while Maglor visibly sagged, annoyed. Clinging to the prince and attempting to shuffle your body to hide from the scrutinising eyes of the dangerously seductive silver-haired male who came to stand to your right, you cowered. Above you, Maglor did nothing as he rolled his eyes and heaved at his peace being interrupted. Once he noticed your discomfort, he rolled over to your right and hid you from his brother. His right hand pressed you into his chest while you shrunk your body to hide the rest.

A round of boisterous laughter ricocheted off the walls. The prince was amused by your actions; you were still unconscious of your femme fatal prowess. He spent a solid five minutes observing the shyness in your motions and voice; his brother was doing one hell of a poor job at making you feel like the Goddess he would worship you as.  

Keeping his eyes on you, Maglor brushed a lock of hair out of your face and offered a sympathetic smile. “Have you no manners to knock, Tyelko?”

“Oh, I did háno, but her moans were clearly drowning your hearing abilities. I must say,” he hummed, then kissed his teeth, “she sounds delightful. Like a Goddess worthy of being worshipped.”

As the words left his lips, Maglor felt you sigh at the indirect praise before he tensed and cast his brother a side–eye. The glint in his eyes glowed under the luminescence of the fireplace as he was locked in a heated battle of determining his brother’s genuine intentions. No interruptions were done within purpose, especially ones like this. To make matters more trivial, of all the brothers, Maglor was the last person Tyelko would intercept given their…differences. Whatever the reason was, it had to be noteworthy.

“State your purpose,” he demanded, casting his head to give his full attention.

No response came—no verbal response. A hungry grin was returned with eyes roaming your lithe figure hidden from his lustful gaze. Maglor wasn’t the only person who was enthralled by you all night; two Feanorians you managed to capture and wrap around your dainty fingers; you were indeed a spectacle. Tyelko’s response was enough to drive Maglor off the edge in a spiral into fury. In return, Tyelko was faced with a harsh glare that would have seen shivers up his spine if the moment was…momentous.

“We do not require the presence of an unwanted guest. Leave!”

Finding his brother’s response more of a catalyst to jest than feeling threatened, Tyelko refused to leave. He remained tall and straight with his arms folded behind his back and head high. His green and brown robes, edged with golden embellishments rested seamlessly against his body and only shifted to the tune of his movements. His forest-green eyes glimmered and darkened.

“Oh, come now háno. It was no jest, nor my intention to make your skills appear inconsequential to mine. Consider it a…gift, to the lovely young, innocent lady in your arms. Why experience one when she can have two…for the first time? She deserves to be adulated in many ways; we can give that to her. What do you say?”

There was no mistaking his words as an act of compulsion, getting under your skin and kissing every inch of your body, and leaving you craving for more. Your insides clenched and tingled as his honey-like words lingered in the air, and butterflies pooled in the pit of your abdomen. Two Feanorian princes desired me.

“I don’t—”

“Not you háno, the little Goddess wrapped up like a present in your arms. What do you say to the proposal kitten?”

Stunned by the abrupt confrontation between both brothers, you felt as though you were intruding on something personal for a moment. The tension had risen, too dense to be cut with anything, and the sexual tension was following. Peeking your eyes over Maglor’s right shoulder, you caught the ravenous eyes of the predator eyeing you like a prize. It placed you in a chokehold. If he could growl and snarl to prove his dominance at this moment, he would; only his brother prevented the animalistic behaviour. His eyes were beckoning you to choose the answer your self-esteem would never allow.

Parting your lips to reply, you breathed and stared. You could sense Maglor’s stare on your face, reading and perceiving your micro-expressions; in combination with his brother’s stare, your arousal was increasing. The act of Tyelko pulling his lips back to reveal his pearly whites told you that he was aware. Nevertheless, you were unable to formulate a response.

“Still hesitant about why we would take you to bed? Oh, oh, kitten! We would never take a nobody to bed. Only a woman of your calibre and magnificence would catch our eyes; a sanctuary deserving of being praised.” Using the opportunity provided, he stepped forward and held his hand out for you to take, ignoring that darkened glare Maglor threw. “Why don’t you let me show you something. Don’t worry, I’m not stealing you away.”

Switching stares between his hand and Maglor’s face, you didn’t want to make a decision to upset the older, but you didn’t want to pass up an opportunity. With hesitation in your movements, once there was no one to prohibit you, your hand reached out to rest in his. Gentle were his actions as he pried you off the bed and guided you to stand before the body-length mirror.

Your eyes were anywhere but the mirror as they roamed behind to glance at Maglor who silently sat against the bedhead with his arms behind his head and lips pressed tightly. It was another hand that cupped your face and focused your attention on the image of you standing bare before the mirror. Tyelko’s towering figure stood ominously with gestures of the unknown. His famished gaze that roamed your body prompted your hands to cover up your erogenous zones, however, he was quicker. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, princess,” he whispered and dipped his head in the crook of your neck to land an unexpected kiss. “Don’t cover up your beauty.”

“Y-Your Highness…ngghh.” His actions made your words fall short once his tongue peaked past his lips and licked a bold stripe up your neck. Stopping behind your earlobe, his teeth came down to bite your flesh followed by his tongue licking the area to soothe the sting. His hands first started at your thighs, roaming the area and rubbing your skin with his calloused palms. It was a foreign sensation compared to Maglor’s softer skin, but nonetheless, enjoyable.

“I find it insulting that you allowed my dear brother a sample of your honey and not me. Say, sweetheart, will you give me a taste?” His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your entire body. Your eyes shut and your head tossed backwards to rest against his shoulder, giving him access to your neck. You weren’t sure what he was exactly asking for, but you were happy to oblige if he continued with his actions. They were equally addicting as his passive brother who sat like a mannequin on the bed.

Breathing laboriously, you nodded, allowing his hands to continue exploring your body. It wasn’t impossible to distinguish what his question meant when his enormous hands parted your legs and pushed you into his body. They roamed the inner of your legs, dancing torturously close to where you would kill to have him. “Open your eyes kitten, look at how beautiful you appear as I undo you,” he ordered. Even his patience was dwindling when the bulge in his leggings was aching at the sight of your glistened folds.

Finding it impractical to look at yourself being touched, you shook your head and looked at the ceiling. From the corner of your eyes, you noticed his silver hair shifting out of the way to reveal his domineering glare. “I’m not asking. I said look!” he demanded.

It was only natural that your body obeyed his wishes and locked eyes with your hazy, fucked out state. Your eyes roamed the mirror and landed on his hands running up and down your body, cupping and squeezing your breast before tweaking your nipples. While he did so, his hips casually grounded against your ass to ease the ache. A fire had engulfed your body as the mixture of his mouth and hands set you ablaze. His movements were aggressive, you could hear the guttural groans escaping his throat the more he groped your body.

Along the line, his fingers brushed lightly against your fold, occasionally parting them to slip into your entrance and collect your arousal. You found it impossible, now that the sight before you was hypnotic, to look away from his hand motion. There was a moment when the air became still, and all other movement ceased as his middle finger dipped in your folds and then brought to his lips for a taste. Your breathing froze as you marvelled at the action. That’s what he meant.

His vibrations passed through your chest as he hummed in delight at your taste. As a reward, his hand tilted your head to meet his lips in a vigorous kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was slightly salty, not too sweet, not too tangy, manageable.

“Only a Goddess could taste so divine, and I desire more—”

His words were hurried and broken, not able to spit the rest of his sentence out as he pressed you against the cold glass and dropped to his knees. You couldn’t move out of the constrictive hold he had on your waist or from the way your breasts were squished against the mirror. All you felt was the parting of your cheeks and a hot tongue against your cunt. A series of unidentifiable squeals and gasps left your lips at the crude act but turned into a deep inhale when his tongue travelled further south. He was shamelessly eating you out from behind, slurping and groaning as your arousal smeared his cheeks and dripped into his mouth.

Tyelko’s entire face was buried between your cheeks without any care as he continued to enjoy his dessert. His tongue probed around your clit, flicking the tiny nub like a switch before bringing it into a suction and rolling it around. The more he tasted you on his tongue, the deeper his face was pushed into your heat, almost like he was attempting to suffocate. His actions were animalistic, living up to the duty of being a hunter, as his tongue swirled, and lips nipped at your nub. In between, his tongue would lavishly lick bold stripes from bottom to top to bottom before slithering past your entrance.

“Y-Your High…ness…” Your voice was whiny and shaky as you mumbled incoherent speeches into the lust-filled air. In the background, Maglor had his attire discarded, leaving him naked with his hand wrapped around his cock. The sight of you being eaten out was provocatively sinful and heavenly. If only his brother hadn’t intervened, he would have had his tongue buried in your cunt for hours. Perhaps another time when Tyelko couldn’t be a bother.

With every push against your body causing your back to arch and nipples to rub against the cold glass, you exerted an opposite force prompting Tyelko’s face to bury deeper. He was having the time of his life as his tongue slithered across every surface he could cover. There were moments when his tongue travelled south and probed past the tight ring of muscles. All you could do was listen to the forceful commands of the princes telling you not to take your eyes off the image. You had to watch as he made you cum all over his tongue and dove back for seconds.

“Stop squirming so much!” he groaned with irritation. The oversensitivity was doing things to your body; you didn’t know how to react. It was different from Maglor. His was filled with softer touches and warmth encompassing, but his brother’s was purely rough and focused on sedating his appetite.

His large hands that gripped your waist, slid lower to your thighs and spread them wider. Its action easily allowed his tongue to wiggle its way along your passage and feel your walls clenching around it. Your body’s natural reaction as another wave of pleasure took over was to push against his tongue, riding it. Your consciousness was poking you to come to your senses and remember that it wasn’t ladylike to behave vulgarly, but your frivolous conscience told you to move. In the end, Tyelko didn’t care whether you rode his face or not, he knew you were close, and he needed to taste it again. However, he did notice the hesitation in your timid movements, and when he did, his hands assisted with your motion. Rocking your body and grinding your cunt against his tongue, he groaned and growled in satisfaction. He wanted you to lose yourself.

The jealousy from the sight before him was spurring him on to snatch you out of his brother’s hold and whisk you away. But he was adamant about getting you to see your worth; perhaps his brother’s interference wasn’t a terrible idea, however, he was practically taking you away from him. Narrowing his eyes as he looked on, he read your body and saw your orgasm taking over. Choosing to act now, Maglor scurried off the bed, ushered to your side in time to catch your convulsing body and pulled you against his chest.

A heated glare between the brothers was exchanged while you were losing all form of composure and functionality in Maglor’s arms.

“I told you háno, I’m not here to make you feel inconsequential. There’s no need to get jealous,” Tyelko jested. His mouth was covered in your arousal, and even his cheeks were smeared. Taking a moment to clean his face, licking his lips to savour your taste, he rose from his position to disrobe.

The action forced Maglor to pique in disinterest and anger, but he was shut down by the claim of this being desired by you. Had you not accepted his hand earlier, he would not have stayed to show you pleasure. “Consider it like this háno; we can have her together, and when I’m finished, she’s all yours…unless she seeks me out,” he suggestively chimed with a wiggle of his brows. His hands had already removed his robes and tunic, and now his fingers were unbuttoning his shirt, leaving him standing in his leggings and boots.

Dropping his eyes from forest green to your sweaty face, Maglor’s face softened, as did his voice. “Y/N, do you wish to partake in this union…being taken by both my brother and me?”

Calculatingly drifting out of your state of unconsciousness, your lashes fluttered and captured the image of the God that was holding you in his bare arms. His naked skin, flushed against yours felt fantastic. Your breast pressed against his chest and your nipples tingled with every breath you took. This is what it felt like to be truly desired.

“W-What?” you confusedly asked.

Humoured, he scoffed and graced you with a softened smile. “Is it alright if my brother and I take you at the same time?”

Jerking your head back at the vulgarity of the question, you had never heard of acts like this being performed. “Is that allowed? I have never heard of such an intimate act before; usually, it’s…it’s just two people,” you stuttered with widened eyes.

Your innocence would be the death of them both. The moment your words escaped your lips, they forgot all about the miniature competition and sought to ensure that you experienced the pleasure of two lovers simultaneously. Tyelko was the first to chuckle at your purity and reassure you that it was more pleasurable than one lover. Less to say, he was the more eager one of your three, hence his straining cock in his leggings. He wanted to get this show on the road.

“Rest assured my Lady, while it is considered taboo, it is equally pleasurable,” Maglor soothed and removed your hair stuck to your sweaty face. “I’ll do my best to ensure that you are satisfied…you might return for more.”

Giggling at his statement, you felt some jittered leaving your body while the majority remained when you came face to face to the sight of a naked Tyelko standing at the foot of the bed. Boots and legging discarded, his cock stood proudly with an angry head and leaking precum furiously. You had seen your fair share of male genital drawn in books, but never realistically. Come to think of it, you had forgotten you were naked in the arms of a naked Maglor whose cock was pressing against your thigh and smearing its precum. You weren’t made aware until now.

Your body froze but your eyes weren’t resisting the urge to look between you both and gaze at the proud erection he sported. It was equally as angry as his brother’s and lacked girth, though it made up in length and shape. Focusing on Maglor’s cock, the audience it gained caused it to twitch in anticipation the longer your innocent stare rested upon it. For instance, Maglor licked his lips and whispered for you to touch it, instead he praised you and withheld his patience to devour you. “Do you see what you do to me? No other woman can have that effect on me, my Lady,” he groaned in your ear before turning you around and guiding you over to the bed.

Tyelko stood impatiently stroking his length and rolling his eyes at the exchange. Poking his tongue past his lips in aggravation, he was rewarded his wait with the sight of you being guided to where he stood.

Your much smaller figure crossed the empty space and brushed closely past Tyelko, allowing him to breathe in your pheromones. He didn’t miss the small, coy smile you threw over your shoulder before approaching the bed. Cheeky vixen! His right hand released his length and made an impact with your ass, propelling you forward and stumbling onto the bed. The loud gasp that left your throat urged him to step closer and deliver another to your bare cheek. His left hand gripping your nape and his right hand rubbing your ass, a howl ripped past his lips as he landed another slap, reddening your ass with his large hands. Something for you to remember him by.

The cries that slipped from your lips were easily devoured by Maglor who came afront to comfort you. He knew how ‘lost in pleasure’ his brother was capable of becoming. His lips, you forgot what they felt like, swallowed all your cries as his tongue slipped into your mouth. There was a hint of that strong Noldorin wine on his tongue the further it danced with yours and coaxed your moans. Your position felt awkward, having to be on all fours and your ass being spanked while craning your neck painfully to meet the sweet lips of your Prince. However, knowing that you were about to experience the first-time pleasure of two princes instead of one, the awkward pain was worth it.

“How do you want us sweetheart?” Maglor asked, breaking the kiss to admire your reddened face and whisper against your lips.

Flashing your eyes to meet his, your words were cut short by the intrusion of a finger slowly probing into your ass, stretching you open. Jaw slacked and eyes rolling, your head dropped into the mattress leading to your back arching more into his touch. It felt foreign having something slipping in there, but your mind told your body to relax because it would become pleasure.

“I’ll take her from behind while you…get her the way you wanted,” answered Celegorm.

Nodding his head at the decision, Maglor looked down at your body and smiled at the reaction you expressed. You were doing so good for them; how could they not reward you. Reaching down to cup your chin and tilt your head upwards to meet his smirk, he bit his lower lip at the sequences of events to unfold before the night was over.

“I’ll take her first since I had her before you encroached, you can step in after she’s comfortable.”

“Oh?!” Celegorm’s brows raised; his night was growing more excited by the hour. “Well then, I’ll leave you to the first act háno; please don’t take forever, I’m getting impatient.”

Stepping away and walking over to the wine table to pour himself a glass, Tyelko made himself comfortable and waited for his turn. Meanwhile, Maglor seemed to be thrilled with having you all to himself and planned to stretch the moment out for as long as he could before his brother intervened once more. Rolling you onto your back and reclaiming his position above you, he brought your legs to rest on either side of his hips. His dainty fingers ran up and down your thighs, easily sliding closer to your sex to build the anticipation.

His lips were reattached to yours once more and prying all the moans he could devour in that instant. Your hands were excited running up and down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles rippling under your touch from every shift in his body. With every touch, he would shiver and groan into your mouth, wanting you to know the effect you had on him. “Do you see what you do to me, princess? Look…” Breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours and breathing in each other’s air, he urged you to look down at where his erection angrily rubbed against your inner thigh. A slight shift in his hips and it would brush against your outer lips.

“Only a beautiful woman like yourself could do this to me,” he hissed, gasping when your lips brushed against his tip. Dragging his eyes to hold yours, he grinned and released a single laugh. “Eager for me just as much as I am.”

“I-I am. I…I want this, please,” you begged and flashed him a doe-eyed look.

Groaning at your innocence, his right hand moved to run his fingers through your fold and slip past your entrance to test the waters again. Finding no resistance and only warmth, he withdrew and used your arousal to coat his cock. Smearing your juices along his length, he sighed and shifted his hips closer to place his tip just at your entrance, though the action made you tense. He felt your nails dug into his back muscles while you sucked in your breath. Nuzzling his head against yours, he planted a kiss on your cheek to calm your erratic heart.

“I know it has been a while since you last…” he trailed off not needing to complete the rest, “I need to you breathe for me; breath in…now breath out.”

It was the same directions he delivered earlier to ease your fear of pain.

Finding it difficult to look away from where his cock rested and into his hypnotic eyes, you shut them and followed his instructions. Your chest heaved erratically at first, breathing arduously with your heart hammering against your ribcage, feeling like you would pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment. Fortunately, Maglor was kind enough to breathe in sync with you once he became conscious of your trepidation. Breathing in and out, feeling his chest and his warm skin brushing against yours, your muscles relaxed, and the stress eased. Your nails eased their viscous grip on his back and your breathing flowed with a constant cadence.

“Maglor…” you breathed.

“Yes?” he responded breathlessly.

“I’m ready.”

There was a loud buzz in his ears when your words rang before the room fell silent, he even forgot his brother sitting in the distance sipping on his wine. His left hand moved to hold your hip while his right ran his cock through your fold before returning to your entrance and easing in. For every deep exhale you took, he moved an inch deeper and felt the tightness of your walls suffocating him, and for every inhale, he stopped. He was almost in, and with a few more pushes and he breached your walls to enjoy the pleasures of being purely visceral. The loud gasp let out by you both at the experience of being stuffed and suffocated sang in harmony, but it was short–lived when Maglor could no longer bear the wait and moved first.

His idea of testing the waters to open you up was to get your walls affiliated with the shape and weight of his cock moulding your gummy walls. To believe that you were this tight after all the relaxation methods was astonishing. Feeling incapacitated by the quick movements of the gentle Prince, he switched your positions to allow him to batter your walls from underneath. One hand in your hair to tug your head backwards and his mouth leaving dozens more of purple flowers, the other gripped the fleshiness of your ass and groped. You were doing so well for him, voice sometimes stuck in your throat, a vigorous thrust would choke it out. Gone was your nauseating feeling and in place was the plethora of ecstasy.

Crying out Maglor’s name sentence after sentence and begging him to not stop, his cock would push deeper, something bushing against your cervix. Your body would do nothing else but spasm and tremble like a leaf in his arms the further you both tumbled around in the abyss of pleasure. Feeling the immensity of the weight of his cock resting snuggly and sliding like silk along your walls had butterflies swarming in your tummy. Your toes curled at the rise of a new pleasure and your back arched, pressing your nipples against his sweaty chest. The luscious friction felt sensational with every push of your body for every thrust he sent your way.

But long had one sat in the shadows and awaited his turn; seeing that your fun had begun and despising the loneliness, he rose from his seat and strutted over. The interaction was abrupt and ephemeral when fleeting kisses from a cool mouth ran down your spine and bit your left cheek. Squealing, you fought to toss your hand around and glare at the perpetrator only to feel a sharp tug at your hair. “N-Not so fast princess, eyes on me; I want you to look at me darling,” crooned Maglor. His voice was beyond stable for someone pounding into you lightning fast.

Biting your lips to the sound of his angelic voice, your walls clenched around him in response, causing his hips to falter. You could hear the lowly whispered ‘oh fuck’ under his breath.

“Hold there Káno, I’m joining,” announced Tyelko.

Using the moment to still his hips, there were two pairs of hands that now rested on your hips and ass. Maglor, wanting to distract you from the tension and ache you would experience, dipped his head lower to capture your breast in his mouth. Your breasts were supple and round, a feature he eyed all night—one that caught his attention and had him tripping. The little sensation gained from his gesture relaxed your body but didn’t take away from the feeling of oil being drizzled over your hole and a finger slipping inside. As delicious as the sensation was, you hated the snail’s pace he was thrusting his finger and clenched to suck him in.

“Shhh, ah, fuck Y/N!” cried Maglor. Your walls choked the living daylight out of Maglor’s cock, completely forgetting that he would experience your contractions.

“Hmm, somebody’s eager for more!” cheered Tyelko at the same time.

Breathlessly chuckling and feeling a bit more light-hearted now that you were deeply engaging in the pleasures of the flesh, you whipped around to cast an impatient look at the silver-haired male. You received a flash of pearly whites and a finger wiggling at you to behave yourself. “Patience princess, I’m trying to make things smoother.”

Groaning and whining at his response, you dropped your head into the mattress beside Maglor’s while he was busy feasting away at your plump breast. By the time he was finished, you knew your chest was going to be covered in endless hickeys.

Resisting the urge to clench around his fingers was impossible for every new digit he inserted since you were constantly choking Maglor’s cock. The contrast in the gasp and laughter that escaped their throats whenever you did so earned the constriction on your hips tightening and turning into a vice grip. You were dangling on a leash the longer they dragged out your night, wanting to focus on their indulges. The desperation was growing under your skin till the point of not being able to take the impatience any longer. Nails digging into the mattress and teeth biting the sheets, you were drooling at the sluggish behaviour of Celegorm opening you up to take him.

You just wanted his cock to fill you up like he promised, not take forever, but your thoughts were soon incomprehensible the moment his digits withdrew, and his tip slipped in. You were choking on the air from the first few inches of his thick cock gliding deeper. Legs trembling, toes curling, drool escaping your mouth and eyes shut, you were clenching around them both at the shearing burn of being stretched painfully and stuffed by two enormous cocks. He wasn’t even halfway in when he paused to snort at your legs shaking from the increased satisfaction.

“Look at you, begging for my cock and now you can barely take it. Looks like you’re about to cum right now…” His voice was sickeningly aggravating the more he taunted your soul about your incapability to handle his well–endowed length.

“Fuck, please. Move, just move please, both of you,” you whined.

Finding your reply humorous, Maglor detached his mouth from your nipple and whispered, “As you wish love,” before driving his feet into the bed and thrusting into you with a newfound pace. There was a moment of confusion and disorientation in your brain when hands were reshuffled—one was rubbing your clit, and you didn’t know who—to grip your waist and press against your back, pushing you into a foul arch.

The impeccable satisfaction of being completely engulfed and devoured at the same time was magnanimous. The blindingly vivid spectrum of euphoria surging through your veins with each push and pull, the in and out and the weights of mouth and hands, pleased your appetite. Chants of perfection were hurdled across the room at how well you took them or how beautiful you appeared fucked out; only were able to attract such a reaction.

The power you held within your hands—and cunt—to make Noldorin Princes submit to their knees and worship you like the Goddess you were like you were beauty beyond comparison, your body a temple. You could feel the tears sprouting from the corners of your eyes the more their words lustfully infiltrated your senses and stimulated a pang in your heart. The heavy breathing and the sloppy kisses against your skin, the slipping of their hands to grip your sweaty skin, the roughness in contrast to gentleness, what an experience to behold.

With your eyes rolling into your head and drool running from the corner, a harsh round of slaps was equally delivered to your ass to wake you up. The regress from unconsciousness into awareness to meet forest-green eyes staring into your own had you confused. When were you yanked upwards to meet his chest?

“Welcome back kitten, we thought we lost you for a second,” he growled. His eyes were focused on your face, observing every microsecond of pleasure that was displayed. He wanted to read those pretty eyes and distinguish if you were still doubting your femme fatal prowess abilities. Honestly, you had him and his brother putty in your hands; neither could get enough of you. “Look at you, the most beautiful woman in the world in our arms, making us lose ourselves. Powerful aren’t you?”

Finding it impossible to formulate a coherent response, you breathlessly whined when Maglor brushed against your sweet spot. Your eyes twitched and rolled as though you were possessed and Tyelko found that impressive. To see how lost and dancing on the edges of something higher than the heavens you were, was praiseworthy. Leaning in to capture your lips and sighing once they collided, your tongues danced and pried songs from each other’s throats. It was messy and hurried from the energetic and frantic thrusts on either end; the acceptance from your walls with the aggressive moulding and reshaping was short-circuiting your brain. You were losing your capacity to function as durable as you were from the start. They were corrupting you to accept and let go, let loose and be free, express yourself and believe in your abilities.

The churning of the plethora of pleasure from every end, the kissing, the finger playing with your clit and hands all over your body, had your orgasm bubbling in a cauldron. The imperishable flame was building and strengthening to heights unimaginable, it burnt your insides and slowly melted the dams.

“You’re such a good girl for us sweetheart. Are you gonna cum for us?” praised Maglor, his face flushed and sweaty from the vigorous workout you were giving him. His brows were pinched as he observed the rhythmic motion of his fingers against your clit and you bouncing on his cock. The build–up of the ring of cream around the base was a filthy sight to behold, perfection.

Finally breaking from the orgasmic kiss with a string of saliva dangling between your lips, a feral grin was returned as an act of favour. Your lips were sweet as ever and he still couldn’t imagine how you weren’t aware of this. Trailing his hands away from your chin, it returned to your back to push against his brother’s chest so he could switch his position and change the angle of his thrusts. One foot on the bed and one hand on your back, Tyelko found the treasure of his pleasure. With the arrival of your orgasm, everything was contracting at an unrecordable rate, making his hips stutter. “Eru, you feel fucking good!”

Mewling at the increased pressure in your hips the more Maglor’s cock battered your insides and sweet spot and his fingers rubbed away at your clit, your body began convulsing. The violent convulsion sent every muscle in your body to suffocate their cocks with urgency to milk them. All three of you were hissing and groaning as your highs were approaching rapidly. Head lulled and resting in the crook of Maglor’s neck, hiding your face as the growing pressure made you easily lose composure, you dug your nails into his biceps and teeth into his shoulder.

“M-Maglor…it–it’s too much, I–I so…ughh.”

Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, all he had to do was give a kiss to your forehead before you came tumbling down. The quick jerk of your body in his arms and twitching of your muscles pushed both of them into overdrive. First, there was a loud grunt, followed by moans before stillness took over and the feeling of their release flooded your passages. Unfortunately, with your sensitivity, the pulsing of their cocks as they spilt their release into you made you cry out and dig your nails deeper into Maglor’s arms. The overview of your orgasm breaking down and washing over you like tidal waves felt like rain after drought. Topped with their highs following yours, the feeling was indescribable.

Going limp in Maglor’s arms, you felt Tyelko’s silvery tresses tickling your back as he slumped over your form, dealing with the aftershocks. He secretly didn’t want to pull out, but he also needed to rest. Heaving and finding the energy to straighten, you felt a small kiss in the middle of your spine and a callous hand rubbing your ass while he eased out. The hissing emitted from you made him wince; he knew you wouldn’t be able to walk for a couple days, and he patted his back. Stepping aside to flop at the end of the bed, Maglor took the opportunity to ease out and roll you onto your side.

You lay in the middle with your left leg tossed over Maglor’s waist and facing him in the aftermath of your rendezvous. Behind you laid Tyelko with his face buried in your hair and an arm slung over your waist, sleeping. It was just you and Maglor left awake, pillow–talking.

“How are you feeling?” he asked politely.

Deliberating, you pressed your lips together to suppress a yawn before answering. “Tired and sore. My legs feel wobbly.”

“Well, I hope—” His words were cut off by the ill-mannered snoring from his brother on the opposite end. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he leaned closer so your noses were touching and whispered, “Well, I would advise you stay in my chambers for the next few days, that way I can care for you.”  

“Care for me, whatever do you mean?”

“I was not able to have you all to myself like promised…and the best way to treat your soreness is more therapeutic activities.” He grinned and leaned in to peck your nose.

Blinking at his assertiveness, you softly giggled. “One night is not enough for your hunger My Lord?”

“One night is never enough when it’s a person of magnificence like you…I want to cherish you more—” Another snore cut his words off as though it was deliberate. Huffing, he turned to you again and reassured you. “Perhaps in the morning when my brother has departed, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

#silm smut #maglor x reader #celegorm x reader #maglor x reader x celegorm #maglor smut #celegorm smut #maglor imagine #celegorm imagine #maglor scenario #celegorm scenario #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion smut #silmarillion scenario #silmarillion fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth smut #middle earth fic #house of feanor #feanorians #sons of feanor #x reader smut #x reader insert #kanafinwe #turcafinwe #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[binary-not-found]

Episode 20 season 2 ✨

Once again I come offering a stupidly long analysis, so buckle up and read carefully, because you already know I tend to recall what I mentioned before, lets get started 😌

First, and because I simply can't stay without mentioning it, I also want a drawer like that, in my office we have one but we all know that there are snacks in there, it's no secret haha. Now, the fact that the stuff in the drawer doesn't fall out when she flips it over!!! it's not even a real drawer 😅

I love the way Kate looks at her, like knowing that she's right on cue, catching her doing what Lucy knows she shouldn't be doing, kind of like when my boss sees me hiding fries in the mornings 🤭

Now, I don't know if it's just me reading too deep into it, but I'm always going to see bringing someone food or cooking for them as a demonstration of love, maybe it's just because of my culture and how families show affection by preparing your favorite dish, I've always taken it that way from Kate, it's one of the ways she has of showing Lucy that she loves her and cares about her, always making sure she's hydrated, eating enough and not forgetting to drink her green juice 👀

Because Kate isn't stupid, it's not like she doesn't notice Lucy's face when she brings her healthy food, it's just that she keeps doing it because she knows it's good for her even if Lucy refuses to accept it 🤭

But back to the episode and how Kate had other reasons for her visit, I keep wondering how she must have felt when she found the cupcake in the fridge on a random day that has nothing to do with any anniversary, plus:

"The cupcake you left in our fridge."

I want you to notice how it says "our" and not just "the fridge", because it's theirs, because they live together and share everything 🥰

"It said 'Happy Anniversary' on it." "Yes, it did."

Lucy is so proud of herself for the cupcake and Kate just can't finish understanding

"Happy anniversary my love."

It's just that 🥺 for those eyes I'll take the anniversary any day she wants and commands, it doesn't matter

"It's not our anniversary at all…" "I know" "You do?"

My poor blondie was really trying with everything in her to understand what Lucy was talking about, Kate always tries to do everything according to the rules and her girlfriend on a random day congratulates her on her anniversary knowing it's not, poor Kate was really confused 🥴

And with the "I love you and us" we forgot the confusion and just let ourselves be loved….I mean Kate did 🤭

I will never be happier than when I hear them tell each other that they love each other, knowing that they've gotten to the point where they can just say it with no fear, knowing that their love is reciprocated and they both love each other so much, even with their stuff about not believing on dates

And can we talk for a moment about what it must have been like for Kate to have to open presents on the 23rd and not Christmas? I'd like to know what excuse Lucy used so she wouldn't have to tell her the truth about her superstitions 😂

I couldn't leave this shot out 🥺

Heart eyes 🥰

And we get into the plot of the episode, I love the way Kate sat waiting for Lucy to finish the call, but the moment she heard Lucy mention a murder, she reacts and leans over to give her a nod asking what's going on, always attentive, always willing to help and above all to look out for Lucy's safety

Once again making sure Lucy has everything she needs, she stayed with her, made her coffee, took it to her desk and is trying to comfort her after Lucy is feeling she reached a dead end.

Always looking to support where she can, this is a quality we know about Kate, but watching her work with Lucy, it's just better than all the previous times 🤷🏻‍♀️

And just…

Look at Kate's face of satisfaction and pride after the high five with Lucy and their pun, they are two dummies who share two brain cells and I love them 🥺

I want to take a moment to appreciate Lucy's reaction and change of attitude when she finds out that Joe had a brain injury, the moment she knew that he could be the victim of the whole situation she decided to do things herself and go out and find him, knowing that he could hurt someone else or hurt himself without being aware of this, this is something I loved within the episode (and leaving Kacy aside for a moment) because in my opinion this is the way Jane would act, and in this case we saw Lucy do it. Seeking to find out the whole truth before blaming someone who might be innocent.

That's why she takes the call and tries to convince Jane that she's not in danger, that Joe won't try to hurt her, because she immediately knows how to recognize that he's not a threat, at least not one where he does things viciously or with genuine intent to harm her. All of this and what I tell you I find similar to the way Jane works, speaks to how much Lucy has grown, from episode 13 we see her working alone and not being satisfied until she knows the guilty person is really the guilty one, with each case Lucy becomes more aware, faster, a better agent in general and is just great to watch.

Back to Kacy

Can you imagine that your intention for the night was just to keep your girlfriend company on her night shift so she wouldn't be alone and to make sure she had some dinner and now you are on the phone hearing that she is alone in a closed space with an armed man? that is just what happened to Kate

Aside from the fact that I love seeing her worry and the way Jane knows how to control the situation, I imagine how frustrating it must have been for her to know that Lucy just walked out of the office and now something could happen to her simply because she didn't let anyone else go with her.

1/3 episode 20

#ncis hawaii #kate whistler #lucy tara #kacy #kacy analysis #ncishawaii #kate x lucy

[itsyourearthtoo]

Dinosaurs are not extinct.

The fact that Dinosaurs, the rulers of Mesozoic earth are extinct is not at all a 'news' to you, right?

Yeah, I mean considering you or your distant cousins belong to the Holocene earth and actively taking part in this Anthropocene, you have been technically taught right since your childhood, that YES! DINOS, THE GIANT LIZARDS ARE EXTINCT. And, even if I write something on this, won't make a big deal. But what will make quiet a big deal is, if I write and actually go onto claim that NO! DINOSAURS AREN'T EXTINCT! Now this is what that sixth grader would say, "Yes, I want more of this... go on I'm listening."

By now, you might be thinking that this is a big statement I have made. But what if I tell you, go and ask this same question to a paleontologist or maybe some evolutionary biologist. Trust me, try it out and you'll see, it's not much of a shock to them as it was to you. Dinosaurs are not extinct, they know it. But do they say it? NO (and this is what this blog is all about)

You see, in the world of Paleontology or (to be more precise)Dinosaur Paleobiology there are two very vaguely defined things. And by saying, 'very vague' it's actually quiet serious. I mean if at least one of these two would have been crystal clear to us, I wouldn't have been writing this blog today.

First, the very meaning of the word Dinosaur! yes... it literally means "A Giant Lizard" (as you all might already know). Why Sir Richard Owen, why did you do this? I mean there's a whole different story to this though, but yeah the great paleontologist of his time could have come up with something more better and clearer.

Now, if you are that average sixth grader wondering what's actually wrong with A GIANT LIZARD, well let me shatter your childhood learnings and say that, dinosaurs are related to lizards but not that related enough to actually call them lizards!

Avoiding, scientific stuffs here (you'll get bored otherwise) let me get this straight. Assuming you are aware of a phylogenetic tree, look at this below -

Just look at where Lizards and the group of Dinosauria or Non Avian Dinosaurs are! In our planet's great evolution story (with regards to Geological Time Scale of course), lizards and dinosaurs both went on to follow separate paths of development.

Now the sixth grader might argue, "Oh cmon! but they do have a common ancestry at some point right, like mentioned here as Diapsida?" Well its true, but going with this, it all comes down to that one single-celled microorganism or maybe that RNA molecule made of just proteins from which life eventually began and the fact then becomes, YOU are also a lizard or fish or any insect. Not so happy with that ain't you. Trust me, my brain's okay digesting this but you or an average sixth grader won't be proud calling themselves a disgusting house fly :)

This is what I call 'A Game of Perspective'.

Perspective, to actually define events with regards to our evolutionary history. This is... what I feel, the most difficult thing to do in paleontology, apart from the fact that you define something one day and tomorrow you dig something out related to your newly defined 'thing' which actually makes you rewrite the whole definition, previous day going in vain.

Hence, the giant lizard, based on the above phylogenetic tree, does live. It's not at all extinct. Komodo dragon, take this for an example if you aren't satisfied with your house lizard. Now, this obviously doesn't bring back the famous Tyrannosaurus Rex or Velociraptor right? They are indeed extinct. But, if you are attentive enough to actually see 'Birds' in the above phylogenetic tree branching out of the Dinosauria group, ask yourself, "Is the chicken, that I love to eat from KFC extinct?"

The answer is an undebated NO and this is where the 'second vague' thing comes in - Where to draw the line and define birds as a whole separate species?

Look at a closer division of Dinosauria in the above figure and you will see that 'Aves' has actually branched out from 'Theropoda', which itself has branched out from 'Saurischia'. Aves, is what you might already know, refer to the birds. Now the main point of confusion is at what point in evolutionary history did a chicken become a chicken from its theropod descendants. The game of perspective comes up here, and we look into the definition of birds with regards to theropods (group of Dinosauria), because we know that they are their evolutionary successors. (look at the above figures again if you still don't believe)

Birds as Archeopteryx and all of its descendants.

Pretty cool right? I mean if you follow paleontology to some extent you might know that Archeopteryx is the missing link fossil between a bird and a dinosaur. But is it a bird or a dinosaur?

More precise - Is Archeopteryx a bird or a theropod?

The issue here is, recent studies have shown that Archeopteryx is more related to Dromaeusaurids (a small clade of feathered dinosaurs) than modern day birds.

2. Birds as feathered dinosaurs.

As good as it may sound, feathers! It is the most confusing body part of a Dinosaur, because more and more fossils show that they had feathers attached to them. Even your favorite T-Rex is now believed to have it! (Note - Jurassic Park is just a movie, there's a whole lot more to dinosaurs than to just get chased by them in a park)

3. Birds as flying dinosaurs.

Again, it is difficult to determine exactly which dinosaurs were capable of flying (as opposed to simply gliding). Also from a modern perspective, penguins for instance don't fly. But they are birds!

4. Birds as crown dinosaurs, meaning the last common ancestor of all extant birds and its descendants.

This is somewhat the most favored definition by paleontologists till date, but the problem here is, it ignores many feathered and flying dinosaurs that are more closely related to modern birds than to Archaeopteryx as birds.

Just look at how the highlighted region fades as we go from modern birds towards Archeopteryx and so on.

So, YES... saying that the Ornithischian group of dinosaurs is extinct, isn't wrong at all. Even the Sauropod group of Saurischian dinosaurs are extinct. But the Theropods, the same evolutionary line of Tyrannosaurus Rex isn't extinct, unless paleontologists can actually draw the line to separate modern day birds from them.

Paleontologists are still trying to figure this line out and believe me, this is quite challenging. I would like to quote here, studying what's underneath is much more difficult than something just above your head. You see, your goal isn't far in paleontology... it's hidden and that's what makes it more difficult.

Now, is it even necessary to actually draw this line. I'm afraid it is, otherwise blogs like this will come up more and disturb the already disturbed lives of paleontologists, dinosaur paleobiologists out there.

And... till the time this line is drawn, respect the chickens that you eat as they are your living dinosaurs. (I mean, I am not promoting veganism here, but just respect them, yeah... can't think of anything else)

Figure References - Figure 1 (in order) taken from Macroevolutionary patterns in the evolutionary radiation of archosaurs (Tetrapoda: Diapsida) by Stephen L Brusatte | September 2010 Earth and Environmental Science Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh 101(3-4) Figure 2 (in order) taken from www.opengeology.org | Image by Callan Bentley Figure 3 (in order)taken from Dino101: Dinosaur Paleobiology 200/201 University of Alberta | Modified from Hackett et al.2008

If you have made it this far, thanks a lot. Feel free to ask me any dumb thing. Trust me, dumb questions often lead to great discoveries!

Anyways, this is it for my first blog.

For the love of Earth Science :D Byeee

#dinosaur #earth #geology #science #writing #museums

[plusvanity]

"His one and only reason to proudly smile will always be Dead."

holy shit this gave me the CHILLS.

on one hand, it's clear that he's exploring Pelle's mental illness for the sake of building this edgy reputation for mayhem in the scene, all of his actions are moved by his selfish desire of creating something infamous and shocking. on the other hand, deep down you can see that he's still fond of Pelle in a way, in a very weird and toxic way - that's where the codependency you mentioned once is explicit. i guess, despite always being treated like an object, Pelle finds comfort in these little times Øystein validates him. after all, Øystein was once someone he deeply trusted and set a lot of expectations for.

i really like the way you write their relationship! the eighth chapter was my favorite for sure. people are slowly starting to notice that Varg sees Pelle as more than just a weird bandmate, including Øystein, and i'm curious to see how that will affect them in the future - would Euro start treating his bandmate a little better upon realizing his attention might be being stolen? i hope he doesn't, and Pelle realizes Euro's just a little shit and moves out of that godawful house (but that's probably not gonna happen). your art is amazing, I really enjoy reading Something Rotten 💕 keep up with the good work!

Boy, isn't it alwasy complicated with these guys? Ahaha.

Pelle tried his hardest to convince every cell in his brain that he hates Øystein to death but that's just impossible due to the fact that in the beginning Øystein was the only one who wanted to deal with his mental issues.

It should've been a friendship, right? With both of them having the same direction in music, endless inspiration and tones of creativity to shape Mayhem into what it became later on. And it was good at the start but as soon as Pelle's problems got out of control, Øystein not only that he easily gave up on trying but he went like 'Well, now you know what?...'

Øystein is not stupid. He's lazy for sure and insufferable at many points but he's good at playing the puppeteer's role. He did it with Pelle (building him up just to bring him down, creating the most favorable premises for Pelle to remain completely dependent on Øystein), surely he did it with Jørn (by obstructing him) and now he thinks he's gonna do that with Varg lol.

I don't see Euro genuinely starting to treat his bandmates better than he ever did before because (just as in communism) 'if you get people used to a shitty condition of existing long enough, they'll eventually resign with themselves and stop seeking something better' lol.

Pelle is stuck, that's for sure.. and Euro thinks he he's got all the jokers. He thinks that Varg's just some nerdy fanboy that's spreading false rumors and there's nothing underneath the surface.. but obviously that's not exactly true.

There's a lot of underlying meaning in this story's dialogue, but the most obvious line regarding Øystein's outcome is what Jørn told him before leaving. 'Keep talking shit and one time you might fucking regret it'.

Thank you very much for investing in this fic!! I love waffling about it 😭💞 your ask was soo cool to explore, it made my day!

Thank you!! 🖤

#ask response #the man who loved the corpse

[pinktom]

hi! you've mentioned a few times that the current version of Lover's Spit is a re-write of a previous version. Sadly I wasn't around for said previous version so I can't tell how much has changed (though, rest assured, I absolutely adore the fic as it is)

So what I was wondering is how did you go about writing it again? I have a couple unpublished fics that I'm not happy with in their current forms (my writing style has changed, I've learnt about writing tricks to make it flow better, learnt proper dialogue punctuation...) but I find re-writing to be a very difficult and tedious exercise which puts me off doing it. I'm guessing that I just haven't found a good way to do it, which is a shame because the fics are good, they just need to be made better before I can be comfortable publishing them.

So I wanted to know, how did you completely re-write what you had already written? Please be as detailed as you want in your answer, I love this type of stuff lol

I can't wait for the next installment of Lover's Spit, and I hope your writing is going well xx

First of all, I’m honored you’d ask for my humble opinion here, and I wish you all the best of luck with your rewrites. ❤️

I also cannot tell you how uncanny your question is. A few months ago, I toyed with the idea of re-posting the original Lover’s Spit for exactly this purpose—so that other fic writers could read it, instructively, as I used so very many fics over the years. (I'm still on the fence about whether it's a stupid idea, lol.)

Reflecting back on the experience, I think I have some potentially useful tips.

Writing is a masochistic hobby. The first four chapters of Lover’s Spit threatened all three of my brain cells, and it wasn’t really very fun for me to write them. Having a ‘big picture’ is, paradoxically, what kept me grounded during that time, and this is my first piece of advice.

I’d recommend looking at a single unfinished piece you wrote, and deciding, from a bird’s eye view, what the point of the story is. What is your objective, really? Then look at how you can reframe all of the existing scenes into a cohesive picture. 

This way your attention is probably less focused on flexing all of the new techniques (still, slay & flaunt it 💅🏻) and more on telling an entertaining story with heart.

When we drafted the original story, there was no intentional objective. It was just for fun. This go around, I did go in with a very specific objective: to explore how real life intersects with the internet. 

So every time I rewrote certain scenes, I wasn’t just retelling the scene with better words. I was attempting to focus the scene (via imagery, dialogue, diction) on that clear, concise objective. For example, the current version of Lover’s Spit begins slower, and lingers more, really to emphasize how boring normal life can be. The internet scenes, by contrast, are shorter, whippier, and don’t take up much real estate. I also include more descriptive lines about the town, throughout the story, and spend far more time in Harry’s head, chewing kind of tediously through his character development. I wanted to intentionally set an ultra high contrast on IRL and internet life, and many scenes look completely different because of it.

Along those lines: You may feel more enthusiastic if you add one or two more details that are new and refreshing, that really excite you. It doesn’t need to be ultra tangible either. For the Lover’s Spit rewrite, I challenged myself to add more mystery and anticipation, particularly where it concerns what’s going on in Tom’s head. This made rewriting certain scenes tricky, but more fun, because I had to be more inventive but I also got to indulge in the character-building aspect of it, which I enjoy.

And also, I learned how to embrace bitter work, to grin and bear it, because the payoff is worth it. I can look at forty word passages that took me an entire Saturday afternoon. I'm a grown woman, I work full-time, I like to party. That shit hurts! But because I have an objective—a point to get across, to share with people—I really feel it's worth it to sacrifice the time and endure the tedium.

But all that said, I will also say there's no shame in leaving projects on the back burner. If it's not fun for you to write, it may not be the best investment of your time, or perhaps not the right time to tell the story. I was actually about your age when I wrote the first Lover's Spit (I was 22), and I'm glad I took my time to return, because I wasn't mature enough to tell the story I knew deep down I wanted to tell.

#writing #lover’s spit #asks

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 9: “Big Time Demos”

After skipping reviews of the previous two episodes (though I did have fun making gifs of them), I'm back to do a post on this episode that I honestly don't remember much of aside from it including a monkey that makes fart noises??

Highlights: the guys share some weird things they've learned since coming to L.A., Mercedes Griffin is a nightmare girlfriend, and the band is at risk of falling apart for the third (??) time so far this season.

We begin with the boys hanging by the pool and talking about how they've been in L.A. for three months now. Logan suggests they go into a flashback montage, and we get a series of silly clips that showcase all the ridiculous shenanigans they've been involved in. We see them racing tricycles by the pool, pushing Carlos through the lobby in a bathtub (this is an homage to The Monkees, btw! The opening sequence to their show has them pushing Peter through the streets in a bathtub), and fighting off a bear. Very exciting stuff.

Kelly comes by with plane tickets because apparently, if Big Time Rush's demo doesn't get picked, they all have to go home. The boys are shocked, which means they were either never told this information or were told but not one of them was paying attention any of the times it was mentioned. Which sounds believable to me, tbh.

After learning about some of the competition they're up against, Logan says they're toast. Kendall disagrees and tries to lead them into a pep talk, which then results in one of my favorite exchanges of the entire series.

Love James's confidence

What on EARTH led Logan to this conclusion?

I love Carlos. So much. He must be protected from all the bad in the world. Also, keep in mind that Kendall asked what they had learned since being in L.A. This means that something happened in the last three months that made Carlos believe toys come alive when you leave the house. I desperately want to know what series of events led to this.

Obviously, these are not the responses Kendall was looking for, but they sure did try, didn't they? Kendall clearly woke up in charge of the brain cell that morning.

A few moments after some words of encouragement, Mercedes Griffin walks into Gustavo's office to pick up the demo cd. And it's at this exact moment that I realize I always thought Griffin was his first name. Looked it up, and it turns out his first name is Arthur, which I might have known deep in the back of my brain. Anyway! Mercedes is spoiled, manipulative, and used to getting every little thing her heart desires. She thinks the guys are cute, and when Carlos assumes that she's the one in charge of picking the winning demos, she doesn't correct him.

Quickly realizing that she can use this to her advantage, she promptly picks Kendall as her new boyfriend and drags him from the room while he pleads for help like a victim in a horror movie being captured by a terrifying monster.

Poor guy.

We go to the Palm Woods then, where Mrs. Knight is preparing for the possibility that they'll have to return home. Katie doesn't want to leave, but they can't afford to stay in the apartment. Bitters shows up (intent on taking apartment 2J for his own) and says that the only way Mrs. Knight could afford to renew is if she had a job working at the Palm Woods. Unfortunately, there are no jobs available.

...Until 2 seconds later, that is.

And just like that, there's an assistant manager position open.

Meanwhile, Kendall is having the worst day of his life being Mercedes's boyfriend. The rest of the guys stop by to encourage Kendall to stick with the act so Mercedes will pick their demo. Well, Logan and Carlos encourage him. James is too busy being self-absorbed and insulting Kendall's looks.

Mercedes and Kendall's poolside date doesn't go too well. Kendall is pretty much disgusted at the whole thing and can't bring himself to fawn over Mercedes in the way she expects. The boy has STANDARDS and isn't about to drop them for some stuck-up girl, even if it means the band is at risk.

Mad respect for my boy Kendall Knight.

Mercedes breaks up with Kendall and makes Carlos her new boyfriend. We'll see how that goes.

Returning to the Mrs. Knight storyline, Katie forges a fake resume and ends up getting her mom the job as assistant manager. Her first assignment is to unclog a toilet. Gonna be honest, the Mama Knight and Katie plot isn't all that interesting.

After being pelted with cookies during his date with Mercedes, Carlos runs to hide in the bathroom, where we get another one of my favorite moments.

Absurdity. Why is Kelly holding a loofah?? Why is Logan holding a toothbrush??

"Are you talking behind my back with shower people?!" Mercedes asks. Maybe I have a simple sense of humor, but this line is SO FUNNY to me.

Mercedes breaks up with Carlos and picks an absolutely terrified Logan to be her next victim boyfriend. She announces she's going to dye Logan's hair green to match her purse, and it's at this point that Kendall puts his foot down. He storms out into the living room and tells Mercedes: "He's dumping you. Because you're spoiled, pushy, mean, and he, and me, and we would all rather go back to Minnesota than spend one more second pretending to be your boyfriend."

I love Kendall. And I especially love that it's this moment that makes him give Mercedes a piece of his mind. He endured being her boyfriend, watched Carlos go through the experience, but he draws the line at Logan. And while Kendall is protective of all his friends, I think he's noticeably more so of Logan because Logan NEEDS that kind of protection. He'll step back at certain times to let Carlos and James fend for themselves, but Logan needs his guidance. It's sweet.

Mercedes says that she's definitely not picking BTR now and leaves the apartment. Everyone is less than thrilled with Kendall.

Later on, the guys all sit around sadly packing their bags. Gustavo manages to tell them that he's proud of them without looking like the words cause him physical pain! So sweet.

Mercedes returns to apologize, but she also comes bearing the news that she isn't actually the one in charge of picking the demos. A chimpanzee is. Gustavo and the boys kidnap Lolo in an attempt to train him to pick BTR. We don't get to see the plan in action, just the aftermath, which is this...

Unfortunately, their attempt to Pavlov Lolo into liking their music ends with the chimp hurling bananas at them, then running from the studio. Griffin later comes to the studio with Lolo in tow, telling them that he found him hitchhiking on the freeway.

Mercedes, the boys, and Kelly offer up their explanations for why they did what they did, and Griffin replies with, "Those were a lot of sentences, containing words, containing letters."

Griffin is honestly a top-tier character. Deranged man.

When asked what he thinks of the band, Lolo makes a fart noise. Mercedes then jumps in to tell her father that the chimp is wrong, and he should pick BTR's demo. Griffin is quickly swayed and declares Big Time Rush the winner. We then go to the boys singing "Halfway There" (which is one of my favorites. it slaps to this day)

Once back at the Palm Woods, Kelly renews their lease, Mrs. Knight quits her assistant manager job, and we get this sweet exchange.

Yay, the guys get to stay!! They're home!! FOUND FAMILYYYYY!!!!

This was never one of my favorite episodes, but I enjoyed revisiting it. It has some very funny lines and scenes, and it's an important one because the series really feel "solidified" after this episode. Yeah, the band will still have moments where it's at risk, but the guys are putting their roots down in this one. L.A. is home now. Logan, James, and Carlos are seemingly content to leave behind their families and just live in California and be raised by Mrs. Knight from here on out. Interesting.

Catch ya next time.

#big time rush #btr #kendall knight #carlos garcia #james diamond #logan mitchell #btr rewatch #btr season 1

[wanderinginksplot]

Gar Cyare Chapter Two

More Alpha-17/fem!reader!

Word Count: 6,200 (ouch)

Warnings: Mentions of fights, mentions of punching, reference to past abuse, reference to murder, descriptions of self-defense training, mentions of drunkenness.

*I'm actually going to include translations before my author's note because this is an extremely Mando'a-heavy chapter!

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Nynir (Strike)

Alpha was watching you. 

It wasn’t like you particularly objected to that. After all, he did it often enough that you would have thought you’d be accustomed to it by now. And, to be fair, you watched him in exactly the same way - like you were suffering silently until the next moment you could touch him, even if it was just to brush against him ‘accidentally’. 

But you didn’t think it was that, especially since your fingers were currently laced together under the cover of his kama. Between you and Alpha, you had quickly discovered that the kama, as well as being the mark of a distinguished warrior, made an excellent cover for hand-holding. Alpha said it was the most useful thing it had ever done. 

That only made you melt a little bit.

But he was still watching you, a considering light in his dark eyes, and it was starting to make you nervous.

You rested your fork politely on your napkin and turned to face him directly. “You’re staring at me, Alpha. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Do you want to fight?” he asked nonsensically.

You blinked at him, allowing yourself a beat before you gathered yourself enough to ask dryly, “I would have thought we had done enough of that last week.”

Alpha laughed, the sound rich and tingle-inducing. “Not exactly what I meant, little one. Do you want to learn how to defend yourself?"

"Oh," you said ineloquently. It wasn't a bad idea, though you profoundly hoped you never had to go through another situation like the Separatist attack. "It would probably be smart."

"I think so," he agreed. "And, fortunately for you, you'll have the best trainer on Kamino."

"Best trainer on Kamino?" Monnk asked, sliding into a seat at your table. "Did T’vert come back?" 

"Nah, never," Drift argued. "Don't you remember how badly things went wrong on that departure day? The Kamiini swore, never again. He has to be talking about Zarll."

"Isn't he a politician now?" Neyo asked, joining the group and the conversation. "And I only asked to be polite. He's a politician now. Why are we talking about Zarll?"

"Trying to figure out who the best trainer on Kamino is," Drift reported.

Neyo looked thoughtful for half a moment. "Has to be Trem. Have you seen her cadets? Most of them will end up as ARCs someday, watch for it."

Alpha gave a piercingly loud whistle to draw the attention of the chatting ARCs. "Thanks for the ego boost, men. Who invited you here, again?"

"You did," Monnk reminded him. 

"Regretting that, Captain?" Drift asked with a cheerful grin. 

"Always," Alpha grumbled. "You almost done, neverd'ika? I'm losing brain cells with company like these idiots."

"Yeah, I'm done," you agreed, and Alpha took your tray to discard everything on it. He had started doing that recently, claiming he was tired of waiting for you to politely make your way through the line. He cut through lines almost exclusively, a practice you watched with a shake of your head.

"What training are you doing?" Monnk asked, pulling your attention away from your boyfriend towering over cadets as he briskly disposed of your collected garbage.

"Oh, uh…" This wasn't a secret, right? Alpha was a secretive man, but surely he wouldn't care if his ARCs knew. "We've decided that I should learn how to take care of myself. Like, in a self-defense situation."

You weren't sure what reaction you would have expected, but blank stares and silence weren't quite it.

"And the captain offered to train you?" Drift asked, inferring from this new information and what he had overheard.

"Yes," you replied, arriving to sound serene rather than concerned by their skepticism.

That silence was laden with tension and sideways glances shared between the men. You did your best to wait patiently for someone to say something, but when the quiet stretched, you broke.

"What? What's wrong with Alpha offering to train me?"

Neyo was the first one to speak, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "The captain is a great trainer, but… he's tough."

"I know that," you replied, bewildered. You didn't think anyone could have survived so long here on Kamino if they weren't tough.

Neyo shook his head. "Right now, you know it in the abstract. If he trains you, you'll see it in-person. I've seen him make a nat-born cry with a look."

"I've heard him punish someone by ordering him to run laps," Monnk told you. "He didn't let the man stop for five hours."

"He's threatened me eight times today," Drift pitched in, sounding inordinately proud of that fact.

"Ready?" Alpha asked, coming back to the table. With three sympathetic pairs of eyes aimed in your direction, you nodded and stood to follow Alpha, feeling like someone doomed.

Alpha had suggested you start the next afternoon, spending the hours before dinner together. You had hedged slightly, reminding him that you were still working to regain the muscle you had lost in your injured leg.

"That's why it's so important," he had countered. "You've lost your weapon - that crutch. You have to be your own weapon now."

So you had agreed to meet with him, dressed in the workout clothes you had optimistically brought with you to Kamino and never worn.

"The first thing you need to focus on," Alpha started, dressed in his own workout gear, "is blocking a hit."

"That's the first lesson?" you asked, only slightly embarrassed at how squeaky your voice sounded. "It feels like there are other things I could learn first. Easier things."

“Easier things? Sure,” Alpha confirmed with a nod. “But not more useful. If you can block a hit, you can set yourself up to return it. I don’t think you understand how much damage a well-aimed punch is capable of…”

He trailed off, voice odd, and you noticed that his eyes were tracing the edge of your cheekbone. The bruise had long since faded, but - judging from the gentle way Alpha’s fingers smoothed over its exact boundaries on your face - he hadn’t forgotten about it. There didn’t seem to be any reason to bring it up directly, so you didn’t. 

As it turned out, you didn’t need to. With his warm fingers brushing your face and his warm gaze locked with yours, Alpha’s jaw clenched slightly. “Say the word, neverd’ika… One little word and I’ll kill that beroya aruetii.” 

That wasn’t quite the romantic declaration you had expected, but you probably should have. Alpha had made it clear that your safety was one of his top priorities, and he was extremely willing to resort to violence if he deemed it necessary. 

“I appreciate that, Alpha,” you started, smiling despite yourself at the offer. “But I think it would be better if I just ignore Doni and learn to take care of myself.”

Alpha frowned heavily at you. “Why do you know that di’kut’s name?”

You snorted. “Because I can’t pronounce ba-bertoya arn-arueta.”

Despite your stumbled pronunciation of the unfamiliar words, the heat flared in Alpha’s eyes. “I need a warning if you’re gonna start speaking Mando’a. It’s… distracting.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your pulse quickening.

“Okay, so blocking…” Alpha diverted, launching into a lecture about how to perform a proper block.

It turned out that there was more to it than you had originally assumed. A block was just what you did to stop a punch before it could land, but there were so many things Alpha wanted you to remember.

When he finally told you to try a blocking stance, you obliged. You spread your feet apart for sake of balance and held your hands up in front of your face, feeling faintly ridiculous as you peered up at Alpha from between your half-cupped palms.

He studied that stance, eyes narrowing. With the way the lines bracketing his mouth and furrowing between his eyebrows deepened, you assumed he didn’t like what he saw. Before you could ask what exactly you were doing wrong, Alpha reached out, pressed the tips of two fingers to your shoulder, and gave a gentle nudge.

You swayed backward dangerously, only just managing to catch yourself. Alpha tapped your chin, his way clear since you had dropped your blocking hands while you adjusted your stance.

“And now I’ve punched you in the jaw,” he said. “You’re probably unconscious.”

“How was I supposed to know you weren’t going to give me any feedback?” you asked, half-laughing.

“That was your feedback,” Alpha told you, looking nonplussed at your inability to follow his imaginary instructions. “If I can hit you, you aren’t blocking right.”

You huffed at him. “Come on, Alpha. At least tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Alpha motioned for you to set up your stance again, then he walked a tight circle around you, blowing out a heavy sigh as he did. “First, stop standing like that. Your feet are too straight. You want your non-dominant foot forward, but keep your weight on your back foot.”

“My leg still isn’t back to full strength,” you reminded him.

From the understanding on Alpha’s face, that reminder was unnecessary. “I know, neverd’ika. If it starts to hurt, tell me, but I need you to push yourself now. It’s not going to get stronger unless you work on rebuilding that strength.”

You nodded, adjusting into the stance he had suggested as you raised your hands again.

Alpha was shaking his head before you even finished settling into place. “Your arms need to be tighter against your sides. Move your hands closer to your face. No, more than that. More than-”

His breathing stuttered like he had only just managed to keep himself from sighing again. Gently, he nudged your elbows, forearms, and hands until they were in a position he deemed acceptable for blocking. When he was done, your elbows were clasped tight to your sides, your forearms pressed to your chest and your hands hovering somewhere around your jawline.

“Alpha, this feels ridiculous,” you informed him.

He shrugged. “That’s how you block a hit. I don’t know what else to tell you. You’re covering most vital organs and vulnerable spots, and your hands are close enough to your face that you can reach up to block a hit there.”

“I thought you told me not to block with my hands?” 

“Yeah, don’t,” Alpha agreed with an approving nod, ignoring your frustrated look. “But you can lead with your hand to get your forearm or elbow in place.”

“But how do I- ah!” 

You interrupted your own question with a short exclamation of surprise as Alpha tried to tap your face again. But you saw his movement before he made contact and your arm came up of its own volition. Without checking in with your brain, your body used the long bone of your forearm to swipe his hand away.

“Good!” Alpha congratulated warmly as you gave a hesitant smile from behind your hands. “That was a block. A small one. Against a slow, light hit. But still, it’s a start.”

You grimaced at how quickly that praise had devolved, but nodded anyway. It felt silly to talk this way, standing in a position ready to guard against a hit, but you weren’t about to lower your arms. What if you couldn’t bring them back up fast enough when he tried to mock-hit you again? 

“Hold on,” Alpha said, moving exceptionally slowly to wrap his hand around your wrist. 

His fingers closed around the delicate bone of your wrist, giving you time to prepare for his touch before he gently pulled and pushed at your arm. You were holding yourself so tightly, keeping your posture stiff, that your entire body swayed as Alpha moved your arm.

“That’s what I thought,” he chided. “You have to hold your arms more loosely.”

“But this is the blocking pose you told me to use,” you argued.

Alpha shook his head. “I told you this would protect most of your vulnerable spots, including your face. But if I go for the area below your ribs-” He touched his fingertips to the spot he had mentioned, your block doing absolutely nothing to get in his way since your elbows were anchored to the front of your body. “-then you want to move to stop me.”

“But if I don’t hold my arms this tightly, aren’t I more likely to hurt myself if I try to block a punch?” you asked. “I don’t want to punch myself in the face.”

Despite himself, Alpha chuckled at that. “That is a concern. But you’ll learn to make your muscles firm when you’re blocking. Being able to block well in only one spot is less important than being able to block less completely but still effectively anywhere on your body. Does that make sense?”

“So, I’m…” you struggled to find the right words. “I’m sacrificing better efficiency for the sake of better coverage?”

“Yeah, basically,” Alpha said with a shrug. “You’ll learn to be more effective over time, but it’ll take a lot of practice.”

And he did his best to make sure you got a good bit of that practice. You blocked and dodged and blocked some more, but Alpha’s speed and strength never increased. Finally, after you had managed to block nearly a dozen ‘hits’ in a row, you took a step back and nodded at him.

“I think I’m ready for you to speed up or hit harder.”

Alpha stared at you, hard. “Why don’t you let me decide when it’s time to move things forward?”

“Sure,” you agreed easily. He was the trainer, after all. “When do you think that time will come?”

“Let’s talk about hitting,” he suggested instead.

That seemed a little odd to you, which was the only reason you noticed how the subject moved in much the same order as blocking had: Alpha explained the process to you, taught you how to perform the basic movement, then let you practice it. 

When it came time to hit, you ‘punched’ him the same way he had ‘punched’ you earlier: small taps meant to make contact or maybe be slightly annoying rather than painful. However, Alpha was having none of that.

“No, you need to be using your full force here,” he lectured after your second intentionally harmless tap. “You need the practice.”

“But you weren’t using full force for your hits earlier when I was practicing blocks,” you pointed out. 

Alpha shot a sardonic look in your direction. “And you aren’t sure why I wouldn’t?”

“No, I think I have that part figured out,” you replied. Your own sarcastic expression wasn’t nearly as well-developed, but you managed. “But I would have expected you to put a little power behind it since blocking is the most useful thing I could learn.”

“You’re misunderstanding me on purpose,” Alpha complained.

“No, I think you just didn’t think about the fact that teaching me to fight would lead to you having to spar with me.” Alpha’s face didn’t change - his mask of soldier’s professionalism was too strong for that - but something shifted in his eyes and you realized with a start that you had guessed correctly. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want to actually hit me.”

That was such a ridiculous thing to complain about that you struggled with a strong feeling of idiocy… until Alpha’s jaw twitched with how hard he was clenching it.

“I… won't. I can't hit you. I can't even try.” Alpha grimaced at you.

You nodded thoughtfully. "What if I put on the right gear? Helmet and gloves and anything else I would need to protect me?"

Alpha frowned as if he was taking a moment to picture that. “Still no. It's not that I'm worried you would get hurt - even if that's part of it, too - but I just don't think I could take a swing at you. Not if I wanted to mean it in a way that would help you get better. Makes me a useless trainer, huh?”

“Not useless, just…” you trailed, searching for a less offensive word. “Just a little less effective.”

He didn't respond to that, not with anything more than a grunt. You pressed on, knowing he was unhappy about this unforeseen problem. "You can still teach me the basics, right? Enough to help me not get annihilated if I ever get into a bad situation?"

He shook his head. "Don't think you're getting out of this that easily. You still need to learn how to defend yourself. Even if it isn't me teaching you."

You almost wanted to laugh at the begrudging tone he used, but you were too busy being nervous. "Who do you think I should ask? Maybe Monnk? Or maybe Neyo instead…"

"Like hell," Alpha denied instantly. "I'll find someone, and it won't be any of my di'kutla men. It'll be someone I trust. Now, we were working on punches."

Almost two full days had passed by the time Alpha mentioned the other trainer again. When he did, it was only to tell you to brace yourself.

You frowned at him after that pronouncement. "What do you mean? I thought you were going to find someone you trust?"

"I was," he replied, an unfamiliar defensive note in his voice. "But then I remembered that I don't trust anyone."

"Alpha…"

"I'm sorry, neverd'ika," he apologized. "I was talking to one of the other trainers about who I should ask and she got it in her head that I was asking her."

That was an unexpected bit of social confusion you wouldn't have pictured Alpha falling prey to. It was far closer to the things you had done in the past, too polite to correct someone, even if their misunderstanding put you in an awkward position. A comedy of manners you would have thought he was immune to.

"And it was too uncomfortable to correct her," you summarized sympathetically.

“What?” Alpha asked, but your point seemed to process before you actually repeated anything. His face cleared of confusion for a moment before it changed to one of derision. “No. Kriff that. I told her flat-out that I don’t want her around and that I just wanted to know who she would recommend.”

“Alpha!” you admonished, even as you internally admitted that lined up much more closely with what you knew about him. “Was she offended?”

“Yes, but it’s worse than that,” Alpha told you, deadpan. “She’s insisting on training you anyway. Something about a misplaced sense of sympathy.”

“Sympathy?”

“Misplaced?”

The second question hadn’t been yours, and you turned to see where it had come from. 

The newest arrival was a female you vaguely recognized from around the training areas. She wasn’t an ARC trainer - you would have known her better if she had been - but you had seen her around the rooms used for flight training. Not that you had a lot to do with the pilots, but the female was fairly unique among the trainers.

She was a female Weequay with all that entailed. Her cheekbones were pronounced, jutting out under her eyes and giving them slight protection that was augmented by her brow ridge. The bridge of her nose was partially covered by a fold of skin that seemed ready to deflect a hit. Her jaw had a line of fine bone spikes for even more protection. Though her skin was leathery and tough like every other Weequay you had met, it seemed slightly smoother than that of Weequay males. She had a few long braids augmented with metallic ornaments that matched the rings encircling her neck.

The female was taller and slender, wearing clothes that were baggier than you would have expected - only clinging tightly enough around her hips and thighs to support the weight of the multitude of their own pockets. Her shirt was sleeveless, but her lower arms were wrapped in a layer of bandages or tape that went down to her hands, leaving only her fingers free. The muscle of her upper arms and the bends of her elbows were covered in metallic studs that you couldn’t quite figure out the purpose of.

Overall, she was a striking and intimidating figure, especially when she folded her arms and looked you up and down.

“This her?” she asked, her voice direct and slightly hoarse.

“Yeah,” Alpha confirmed. He stepped toward her slightly, lowering his voice, but you could still hear him clearly as he warned, “Don't be a besom.”

“I'm always a besom,” she replied, unimpressed at the way he was trying to use his height against her.

“Nice to meet you,” you said politely, trying to cut off any disagreement between the two. 

They both glanced in your direction - the Weequay wearing a slight smirk while Alpha just looked resigned. 

"Zackra Trem," he told you, gesturing to the female. 

"I've seen you around, but we've never gotten the chance to meet," you explained. "You train the pilots, correct?"

"As much as someone can train a soldier replicated from human genes," she told you, winking before tossing a sly look back at Alpha.

Alpha, as expected, looked unamused. "Shut it, Trem. How are you even gonna train her with those baggy clothes on?"

"Baggy clothes? You see about as much as a civvie on a good day, Seventeen. Today, you’re just embarrassing yourself." With a smirk to accompany that statement, Trem turned to you. "How many weapons would you guess I'm wearing?" 

Despite your surprise at the question, you obligingly studied her, mentally tallying up every space where a weapon could conceivably fit.

"Six," you attempted at last.

"Wrong," she told you. "Fifteen."

Alpha immediately scoffed. "You aren't hiding fifteen, even in that outfit."

"You're right," Trem acknowledged with a smirk. "Not exactly fifteen. More than that."

You frowned, feeling a little stupid at your underestimation of the very formidable trainer. Hiding weapons on one's person was hardly a surprise - the ARCs and the kids made a point of always having a few in easy-to-reach places - but something was still bothering you. 

"Why lie, though?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at Trem. "I was already wrong. You didn't gain anything from lying."

"Maybe I didn't, but you did." Trem folded her arms, the moment emphasizing the buckles and scale-like metallic pieces adorning her shirt. "Consider that your first lesson: your enemy is going to lie to you."

“Enemy?” Alpha asked, voice rumbling with displeasure. “I didn’t bring you in to be her enemy. I brought you here to be her trainer.”

“You didn’t bring me here at all,” Trem countered, not incorrectly. “You didn’t want me here and I came anyway. That means you don’t get to say yes or no about anything. The only one who can is her.”

They both looked your way. Alpha looked irritated and on-edge, but Trem spoke before he had a chance to sway your thinking.

“I heard what happened to you.” The way two of Trem’s fingers rose to tap at her own cheek made it clear that she was talking about your run-in with Doni Pender. “The same thing happened to me, but no one was around to stop it.”

Your heart dropped. You had known you had heard Alpha talk about Trem before, but you hadn’t been able to place her name. But you could now. Shortly after you had met him, Alpha had reported a too-flirtatious cadet to Trem, who he said took a personal interest in situations like that one. And like the one Pender had put you into. Suddenly, things made more sense - particularly, why Trem was so intent on teaching you herself.

Trem didn’t smile, but the lines of strain that had appeared on her face as she talked about her past faded slightly. “I heard you like asking questions. You can ask me one, but that’s it.”

“Is he dead?” 

Alpha’s thick eyebrows flew up at the question, erasing the look of wry consternation that had crossed his face at the knowledge that Trem knew about your question and answer sessions during shared meals. He seemed almost… startled. Like he didn’t quite know what to make of your question.

Trem, in glaring contrast, didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Yes, he is, and by my hand. The Mandalorians who shut the place down made sure of it. They honored my pain by letting me take the revenge I chose… and I did. I’ve never looked back.”

The Weequay’s tone was satisfied, almost cheerful, but the thing that stood out the most to you was her casual use of the phrase ‘the place’. Those two words alone spoke of large-scale horror, a desperate situation, and unfathomable suffering. The fact that her voice had held no real inflection was somehow worse. 

You didn’t want to ask for more information - would never ask her about it unless she initiated a conversation about the topic - but the little you knew was enough to prompt a firm nod from you. “Good.”

Even Trem looked surprised at that. When your expression didn’t buckle under her close scrutiny, she gave a short nod. “Alpha can’t bring himself to hit you, not even for training. I won’t have that problem. My goal is to make sure you can defend yourself. You may hate me by the end of this, but I can promise you’ll have the skills to kick some ass if it ever comes down to it. Can you live with those terms?”

“Yes, I can,” you agreed. “And thank you.”

“What was the first lesson?” Trem quizzed.

“Enemies will lie to me,” you parroted obediently. 

“Very nice,” Trem congratulated. “And here is your second lesson: enemies will always try to catch you off guard.” 

By that point, you had learned enough about Zackra Trem’s teaching style that you quickly prepared yourself to be caught off-guard, but there was only so much you could do with a half-second of warning.

To your utter shock, you managed to block the first hit she directed toward your face. It was a solid block for a solid hit, and catching it on your forearm made your hand tingle. You were a bit slower moving to block her second hit - that one directed toward the curve of your waist. It glanced off of the bone of your wrist. The resulting rush of feeling from those nerves made your racing mind pause for a half a moment - too long to react as quickly as you needed to.

Trem’s final hit connected solidly with your chest.

Unlike Pender’s hit, this one didn’t knock your head to the side or throw you violently off-balance. You stumbled back, but were able to catch yourself fairly easily - despite the way your leg protested. 

At first, you thought you were fine, reflecting that it was an odd place to hit someone. You even tried to get back into a stance that would let you block any other strikes that Trem threw your way. But then your heart gave a belated stutter, like it had skipped a beat but in the most painful possible way. The time it took for your heart to beat again felt like it took an eternity - a terrifying, suffocating eternity. 

When your heart beat again, it took up a pounding rhythm, beating like you had been sprinting for your life. You pressed a hand against your chest, gasping in an attempt to catch your breath once more.

So much of your attention had been focused inward that it felt like you hadn’t really been using your eyes. When you remembered to blink and refocused on what was in front of you, you found Trem looking knowingly satisfied. You dimly recognized that she had pulled her strength, landing the blow in a way that was far less devastating than it would have been. She had known exactly how far she could push the line and had gone up to the very edge. A tiny bit harder and she would have stopped your heart.

The understanding passed between you, your eyes locked with Trem’s, before your concentration was broken by a bellow. 

As much as you were taken off-guard, Trem wasn’t phased for a moment. She turned and blocked Alpha’s punch like they had rehearsed it. She dodged the next, blocked the one after, then delivered a solid blow to his ribs, dodging another wild swing before they broke away from each other. 

“You know this is the best way to teach her!” Trem told him unsteadily, her breathing having picked up from the effort of fighting him. “She needs to know how to handle it.”

“Not like this!” Alpha refused, voice rough. 

“Yes, like this!” Trem insisted. “And you know it.”

Alpha’s head lowered, his brows furrowed over his eyes. His breath was coming in sharp pants. He shook his head once, twice… “I need to go.”

And then he left, shoving roughly out of the door. His elbow connected loudly against the door frame, the sound of the collision sharp even though he was only wearing his thin body glove rather than his armor.

When you had processed all of that, you looked over at Trem. “I’m sorry, I need to-”

Trem shook her head, stopping you from making your way out of the training room. “No, I’ll go. I need to settle things with him myself. Before I do, though, I need to know if you want to keep working with me. I’m not going to be nice or kind or soft, but I can teach you what you need to know.”

“I want that,” you agreed. “I want to know what I’m doing. I want Alpha to stop having to worry about me. And… I don’t ever want to feel helpless again.”

Trem did that almost-smile again, but it was paired with sadness in her eyes. “I can’t promise that - no one can. But we can make it a lot harder for anyone to catch you off-guard. Let me go handle things with Alpha. I’ll be in contact.”

And then you were alone. 

Since you didn’t know when to expect Trem to be in contact, you stayed in the training area for a while. You practiced the moves Alpha had taught you, did some exercises for cardio strength and to keep building the muscles in your leg. When that was finished and you still hadn’t heard anything, you retreated to your own quarters to shower and clean up. 

As you showered - listening intently for the sound of your comlink making noise - you couldn’t help but wonder how the conversation between Alpha and Trem was going. You didn’t think Trem would have gone there with the specific goal of fighting Alpha, but if those two tried to have a discussion about something as sensitive as training differences, there were good odds that things had devolved into a physical fight. 

When the comlink finally rang, you were sitting on your bed and trying to catch up on some background reading for your report. You dove for the device, fumbling slightly as you accepted the transmission. “Hello? Hello?”

“Go to Alpha’s quarters,” Trem’s voice told you through the device’s tiny speaker. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

Your heart dropped, but you didn’t get the chance to respond - Trem had disconnected the call before you could even formulate a reply. 

With your earlier concerns in mind, you retrieved a small first-aid kit from your bedside table before making your way to Alpha’s quarters as quickly as you could without breaking into a full run. 

As Alpha’s door came into view, you reflected too late that you had never learned the code that would let you in. You could knock, but what if he was too badly injured to let you in? Then you got closer and realized that the door was open slightly. You didn’t quite know whether to think that was reassuring or concerning, but you didn’t give yourself too long to think about it, pushing through the door with the first-aid kit braced in front of yourself… 

 Only to stop short just inside of the door.

Alpha was lying on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. What you could see of his face was reddened, and his body was more slack than you had ever seen it. Alpha typically held himself with the bearing of a soldier, posture perfectly upright and always coiled for whatever could be thrown his way. Was he unconscious? 

“Alpha!” you called, concern lacing your voice as you hurried across the room. 

Alpha’s arm pulled slowly away from his face as you busily studied his body for injuries. After having found none, you raised your eyes to do the same to his face. His cheeks were reddened beneath his natural tan, but his eyes were bright and he didn’t look bruised.

“Neverd’ika,” he greeted warmly. “Hey.”

“Alpha,” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows as you continued your study with a more discerning eye. “Are you… drunk?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Trem brought tihaar, but I didn’t get batnor. I can outdrink that chakaar any day.”

“Mm-hmm,” you agreed mildly. For your own sake, you hoped he would ease back on the Mando’a. You got a lot from context clues, but you didn’t speak the language and this conversation would be a lot trickier if you didn’t understand half of it. “What did you two talk about over the… alcohol?”

“You,” he told you, filling you with warmth even as he patted the bed beside himself. “Sit down. You’re too far away.”

Obligingly, you sat down where he had indicated. You were roughly even with his waist, giving him a much better vantage point when he rolled onto his side and leaned up to rest his head on his hand. 

“But everything is okay now?” you asked. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Alpha agreed. “I’ll let Trem keep training you. She said you were okay with that. It was always gonna be your choice, but I just… just need to make sure you’re safe.”

“Alpha, I’m safe, I promise.” You had relaxed a bit when Alpha told you everything was fine, but you tensed when the furrow reappeared between his eyebrows. Soothingly, you added, “Trem knows what she’s doing and she’s going to teach me. It’ll be fine. I’m fine.”

“You are now,” Alpha said, the furrow deepening as his gaze fell to your leg. “You weren’t before, though.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Part of you wondered if it would have been wiser to lie, but you respected Alpha too much to give him anything other than the truth. “But that’s in the past.”

“Doesn’t feel like it to me,” he confessed, jaw clenching. “When those clankers had you… I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified. And then you got hurt and I was more terrified. I never want to see you in a situation like that again. I want you safe - need you to be safe, even if I’m not around to protect you anymore.”

You forced a laugh in a poor attempt to hide the way that sent a horrified chill through you. The idea of living without Alpha was one you didn’t want to spend too much time contemplating. “That isn’t an excuse to skip out on future fights. You need to stick around for all of them.”

“I’ll be there,” Alpha promised, sitting up so he could trace his fingers over your jaw and stare into your eyes, his own gaze dark and fathomless. “The only way I’m gonna die is for you, neverd’ika. I’ll be around as long as you need me.”

You felt your own expression crumple as you fought back tears at that simple, heartfelt, drunken vow. You felt exactly the same way, though you knew he probably wouldn’t like hearing that. You reached out, wrapping your arms around him in a hug that he responded to with eagerness, squeezing you so tightly that you could barely breathe.

He was so warm. You would never get used to that warmth, but it was nothing compared to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. You could feel it in every press of muscle around you and the way his breaths took on a beat of their own. 

When Alpha leaned slowly back toward the bed, you happily rearranged yourself to stay aligned with him. When you were both lying flat, you were cradled in Alpha’s arms like you were the most precious thing he had ever held. He pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and smiled when you sighed in satisfaction.

He fell asleep only seconds later - you could tell by the way his alcohol-scented breath rustled past your head with increasing regularity, and the way he relaxed even further.

Just before you dropped off to sleep yourself, you wondered idly if you had any pain meds in your first-aid kit. Alpha would probably need them in the morning.

---

Translations

Beroya aruetii - traitor bounty hunter

Di'kut - idiot

Neverd'ika - little civilian

Besom - mannerless person

Tihaar - strong clear alcohol

Batnor - drunk

Chakaar - petty criminal (general term of abuse)

---

A/N - DO NOT PUNCH PEOPLE IN THE CHEST. It is generally a bad idea! Don't do it!

Hope you enjoyed the rest of the chapter, though! Thanks for reading and I'll see you soon!

You can find other works on my masterlist or join my taglist here.

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#Gar Cyare #gar cyare #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars legends #star wars prequels #captain alpha 17 #alpha 17 #alpha 17 x reader #alpha 17 x you #sw tcw #alpha 17 fic #star wars reader insert #commander monnk #oc drift #commander neyo #neyo #oc zackra trem #clone troopers deserve better #more to come

[twilightmalachite]

Raison d’être - The Nameless Girl 5

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Right, mhm… You have my thanks, Ryuu~-kun."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Apartment in France

Simultaneously, at the house Itsuki Shu is boarding at…

Shu: Yes, it just arrived.

Allow me to check the contents…

What’s that reaction for? Do you think me to be a primitive man incapable of using the tools of civilization?

I too am capable of using a PC. Yes, I’m currently in my room at the house I’m boarding at, and checking the file attached to the email.

Still, how quick. I am surprised to see the diaries’ translation into modern Japanese was already completed just yesterday.

Hm. I have no interest in ES programs and the like, so I hadn’t known—

You guys, AKATSUKI, are currently running something akin to an educational program about Japanese history, right?

So while keeping some circumstances of the matter a secret, you asked a historian you had met in the process, and it amused them so much they stayed up all night getting it translated for me?

Hmm. Quite the godsend, isn’t it? Rather, having a friend who has a wide set of connections is quite valuable.

As for me, when you said you had an “someone in mind”, I personally thought you were referring to another member of AKATSUKI…

No, not Hasumi. That Kanzaki child.

He comes from an old-fashioned family, doesn’t he? In families like that, you are made to decipher and read aloud texts and the like that have been handed down generation to generation.

So I assumed he would be familiar with translating old books. Right, I used to be made to do that as well—Although I hated it.

Right. Although I hated it, Grandfather had scolded me, telling me there was no harm in remembering, and that I should be using every brain cell I had… Alas, that is all that I remember.

To me, Grandfather was always an angry god who would watch over me from the heavens, raising his voice and casting down thunderbolts when I’d sin.

…I shouldn’t be talking about him in the past tense. The angry god is still alive and well, so I shall make the effort to not spoil the mood.

Shu: Right, mhm… You have my thanks, Ryuu~-kun.

Hm? The historian that translated the diary mentioned something that caught your attention? What was it?

Huh? That’s… Just what on earth does that mean?

No, I don’t know. Even if I wanted to ask him, we are still not allowed to visit Grandfather.

Hmm, so it’s currently just speculation… I will keep that in mind while I continue to look into it.

Mhm… But I’m sure you must be in the midst of your own troubles, much like Nito.

Do not keep worrying about me forever. Do what you need to do.

You’ve always been overly meddlesome.

Shu: Mhm… Look after yourself, now.

Farewell my friend, ‘til we speak again.

Shu: (….Hmm. Just what on earth is going on here?)

(Things aren’t adding up…)

(I asked the landlady, who should be familiar with Grandfather’s past, but she has no idea who this MADEMOISELLE person is.)

(According to the historian that Kiryu had asked… There is the possibility that these two dairies in our possession are completely fictional.)

(Perhaps it’s nitpicking, but… There are things such as a couple odd depictions in the historical context.)

(It is stipulated how the word “mademoiselle” is banned from use in official documents, and instead women must always be addressed as “madame”.)[1]

(There are details such as that that Grandfather would have no way of knowing decades ago.)

(Things such as “Even though the times are changing, but I shall always call her Mademoiselle”.)

(Did Grandfather predict the future with his characteristic foresight? Or was that part of the diary added later in his life?)

(But that would be quite unnatural too… If this diary was written more recently—)

(Then the speculation that this is a novel of fictitious events would be more plausible.)

(But, then who would Mr. Raffaello be?)

(If these diaries really are fiction… That would make him the child of a nameless woman who appears to be fictional.)

(If the landlady, an old acquaintance of Grandfather, does not know of her existence, then she most likely is “someone who does not exist”, a character created by the author of the diaries.)

(And if anything, it would explain the peculiar immortality this “MADEMOISELLE” has.)

Shu: (But if “MADEMOISELLE” does not exist, then how could she have a son?)

(One simply could not exist. It is as strange as claiming to be the child of Snow White or Cinderella seen from fairy tales.)

(No matter how much one may long for a fictional entity, you cannot have a child with one.)

(Such a thing is unachievable by mankind, even with what modern science can do.)

(There is a clean line between reality and fiction, only in our heads do they intersect. And on stage, temporarily.)

Shu: (That ought to be the case, but—Ahh, reality wavers.)

(Is this truly real? Or is this someone's dream, someone’s imagined story?)

(…A foolish fantasy?)

(Thinking about it realistically, the conclusion drawn would be Mr. Raffaello, who has learned of the diaries’ content some way or another, is playing a trick on us for some reason.)

(The motive would be, of course, Grandfather’s inheritance. Mr. Raffaello being a con man attempting to cheat us out of Grandfather’s inheritance through believable lies.)

(Is that the case? Then it would have been what I had first suspected!)

(…But if that is not the case, then what does all of this really mean?)

[ ☆ ]

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1. In early 2012, France officially ordered the removal of the use of “mademoiselle” in official documents, as it is a term used exclusively for unmarried women and was quickly becoming outdated term, as it held problematic connotations such as inferring that a woman is more “valuable” once she is married, and so on. And the male equivalent, mondemoiseaux, is basically unused anyways.

#raison d’être #raison d'etre #shu itsuki #translation #event

[subrenaspade]

Twisted Wonderland x Reader :No Place For Children Prologue

This story is just some cute fluff I thought that some of you all would enjoy. There might be some cursing, that's all I can think of at the moment. The reader does have a bit of a backstory, giving her a little bit of OC vibes, but besides some background elements the rest is up to you. I only write Female, if that bothers you I'm sorry, I'm used to writing female and I keep having to go back to take away she/her pronouns. 

I do plan to make a series but more along the lines of while in this dorm for one chapter then while in this dorm for this other chapter.

A little background about the MC in my story so you're not all too lost. The MC used to suffer from androphobia (A fear of men), that has to do with some past trauma That I might go into more detail about later on if I decide to continue this story. The MC is also a Orphan losing her father at four, then her mother at fourteen, so there will be mention of family. The MC spent all her time in foster care, due to her mother being an orphan herself and her fathers family disowning him. 

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

I read over the list of ingredients we are supposed to use for the potion we were assigned to make. This lesson was a little different since our first year classes were all merged, leaving each group with seven to eight in each group. Obviously I and the One brain cell trio grouped up with Epel, Jack, and Sebek. I knew better than I really did, but I still let myself get talked into joining this disaster of a group. 

“Do we have the hog snout out?” I asked, turning around to look at the group. Sebek was arguing with Ace and Grim about who would win in a game of basketball, some unknown athlete to me in this world or Malleus (who I am 95% sure doesn't know what basketball is…. Maybe Sebek too). Epel and Deuce were talking about their next meet for track and next game of spell drive. The only one who seemed to pay a little attention to me was Jack, whose ears perked up a little at my question. He walked to the laid out supplies and looked at me giving me a nod. 

“We should be ready to start the spell.” Jack said loudly to get the others' attention. They all looked at the two of us who returned their wide eyed stares with deadpan faces.

 “Right! We are making a spell to increase one's height.” Sebek's voice bellowed, earning a SHHH!! From the other students around us. I rolled my eyes and smiled at the baffled expression he had. 

“Okay, since I have no magic I will help with stirring and measuring out the ingredients.” I said as I passed the page with the spell on it to the rest of the group.

“Sounds good to me. We can all cast the spell and some of us will stir with you while some of the others can help you with the supplies.” Epel said, looking at the group. Grim jumped from Ace’s shoulder to the high chair we had out for him since he wasn't allowed to touch the ingredients (Last time some of his hair got caught on some of the ingredients and ended up turning us all into beastmen for a few weeks). 

At first everything was going okay, no arguments, no bickering, no clumsy mishaps. However, that all ended when Deuce muttered the wrong word, causing the potion to turn green. We all stopped as we held our breath. Slowly the potion started to steam, coming to a rolling boil. We all stepped back from it with wide eyes. I saw that Grim was still looking into the cauldron with a fascinated gaze. I gasped as I rushed over grabbing ahold of him, much to the protests of my group mates. At that moment the cauldron started to shake as if a time bomb was about to go off. I saw it turn pink and in an attempt to save Grim I flung him at Jack who caught him on instinct.

The second I saw Grim land in Jack's arms, I heard a booming puff sound. Smoke surrounded me and as much as I tried to hold my breath, I was too shocked to do so for so long. I succumbed to the drowsiness that engulfed my entire being….. Letting the exclaims of my friends and Professor Crewel be the last thing I remembered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Third POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was able to avoid the smoke that  had only engulfed the perfect.  With a wave of his pen, Professor Crewel  had summoned a huge gust of wind to push the smoke out of the room. They all watched the area they last saw the Perfect, just before the explosion of magic. 

“(Name)! Are you okay!?” Ace called out into the cloud of magic. Finally the smoke was all cleared out and all they saw… was a pile of clothes on the ground. 

“O-Oh no! I-I killed (Name)!!” Deuce almost wailed. The pile of clothes moved, making everyone gasp. Through the layers of fabric and cloth a small head poked out. A little girl with messed up hair and tired (color) eyes that scanned the area as if dazed. Even though this was a child they all knew who it was the second thE little girl peeked out of the baggy clothing.

“(name)?” Was all that they could say. The girl who was still dazed tilted her head at them all as if confused. She reached up and rubbed her tired eyes.

“Where am I?” She muttered, seeming to look around for someone. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHERE ARE YOU?” Sebek screamed. To everyone it sounded like thunder breaking through the silence, However to the little girl it was like a tornado hitting the ground. She threw her hands to her ears and let out a whimper. This had seemed to wake the poor thing up, cause her eyes widened as she registered completely she was not where she was supposed to be. She flew to her shaky legs like a doe taking its first steps. The shirt and coat she was wearing made a dress on her. 

“Mom!!” The girl called looking frantically around. Her eyes were starting to turn watery and her lip quivered as she tried not to cry in panic. 

“H-Hey it's okay..” Jack tried to ease the girl's fear, however his big structure seemed to only scare the girl more as she whimpered, stepping back from him. Jack's tail tucked itself between his legs and his ears flattened against his head. He stepped back trying not to take the scared little girl's reaction to heart. 

Crewel started to usher the other students out of the room to try and make less eyes on the petrified child. While he did this the group of guys that the girl (Unknowingly) called friends stayed to try and calm her down. Though none of them seemed to have any real success in doing that. 

Finally Ace let out a sigh and kneeled in front of the small child who was at this point huddled in a corner at this point. He looked her in the eyes as much as she would allow and urged himself to let out a calm and gentle voice, trying to hide his own fear and the weaver in his voice.

“(Name) right?” The girl perked up at her name, shifting her eyes to meet his head on. He smiled at her. “I’m Ace… Ace Trappola. Sorry, we were trying to be more quiet….. But got carried away. Your mom had to go on a business trip for a few days… Do you remember that?” Ace asked, letting the white lie do its thing. The girl's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she tilted her head. She shook her head. “She must have forgotten to tell you then. Your mother is a doctor right?” He asked. (Name) gave nothing away, waiting for him to continue. “She had to go to another hospital far away to help someone. She said it was urgent. You're here since the hea– I mean Crowley offered to babysit you.” Her shoulders loosened up as if the white lie that Ace fed her gave her a form of comfort like a blanket. 

“H-How do I know you're not lying?” She asked and adjusted her posture a little as if she was ready to defend herself. Ace felt a cold sweat run down his neck… how can he show her that it wasn't a lie…. Even though it was. He finally thought of something, he met her eyes.

“Remind me…. How old are you? 4? 5?” He asked. She pursed her lips as if trying to figure out what he was playing at. She held up five fingers, making his heart break a little for bringing up such a horrible time for her. “Your father…. He passed away not too long ago, right?” He asked. The girl's eyes widened and her lips quivered. She nodded her head as if speaking would cause her voice to break. “He used to sing you a song whenever you were sick or couldn't sleep… (Favorite song). It's yours and his favorite song.” He said. The girls looked down, nodding weakly at his question. He reached out and patted the little girl's head. “From what I heard… he was a really good guy..” Ace offered to try to comfort a child (Though didn't know) who had no one in this world outside of these school grounds. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is the meaning of this emergency meeting?” Riddle asked, agitated that his schedule had to be changed at such short notice. 

“I am also curious… Mostro Lounge is about to get a big wave of customers… Having me and my vice house warden here will be difficult for the employees.” Azul started looking over at Jade who politely smiled. 

All the housewardens and vice house wardens were gathered around Crowley's office. Crowely sat at his desk, leaning against his hands as if contemplating something. Finally he let out a long sigh, leaning back into his chair. “There seems to have been an accident involving the perfect…….” Crowley said in a grievous voice. Everyone tensed up at the statement. 

“I-Is she hurt? Where is she, does she need medical care!?” Kalim shot questions out faster than anyone could answer. Crowley raised his hand up, making Kalim stop talking.

“I should inform you that she is uninjured…. However….. There is a bit of a problem.” Crowley stood up. He flinched slightly at the sound of thunder and lighting. Everyone turned to look at Malleus who seemed to be trying to control his rage. 

“Where. Is. She.” Malleus glowered at the head mage who fought the urge to shake in fear. 

“S-She is outside… Um..” Crowley walked over to the door and opened it, peeking out. “Crewel, bring her in please.” Crowley requested, stepping back as the white and black haired professor walked in. The second he stepped foot in the room everyone gawked at him. A child in a pair of shorts and a black shirt had her arms wrapped around his neck as he held her in his arms. Her messy hair had been straightened out. Her head turned as she looked at all the shocked boys in the room. Crewel set her down on the ground where she moved to hide behind him in a shy manner. She clung to his long furry coat as she looked over the new environment. 

“Is THAT the potato..” Vil asked in shock. Crowely nodded his head, letting out a grieving sigh. 

“There was an accident in Alchemy today involving some of your first years leading to her being turned back to five….. She had no memory of who she is now or who we are… Right now she is who she was when she was just a five year old girl..” Crewel stated, patting the little girl's head in an attempt to persuade her from hiding. She looked at him and nodded, though she still looked really nervous. She stepped out of her hiding spot and looked down to the ground fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“I-I am (Full name)... I-It's nice to meet you..” She said in her shaky voice. She looked up at them through her lashes as a shy blush adorned her face. Her cute expression turned out to be too much for someone.

“AWWWWW You are so cute!” Kalim flung his arms at her. She yelped as he threw her up and nuzzled into her. She had tensed up at the sudden outburst and affection he was showering her with. 

“KALIM! SHOW SOME RESTRAINT!!! YOU ARE SCARING HER!!” Jamil scolded in a firm voice. Kalim froze, pulling back to take in the shaken expression the little girl was giving him. He was about to place her down when another pair of arms hoisted her up. 

“So what are we going to do with the herbivore?” Leona asked as he eyed the girl up and down. He held her at arm length, making it a really uncomfortable experience for her. The room went quiet, they all stared at her…. Like they were expecting something.

“Um….. can you put me down please?” She asked. Leona tilted his head at her as if asking what she was going to do about it. He let out a growl as she was yanked from his grasp. She looked up at the man cradling her, Lillia smiled down at her as if he was excited to hold her.

“She can stay with us obviously.” Lillia claimed, clearly excited to play the role of adoptive father. 

“Well, we were going to dump- I mean entrust her to all of you. Crewel knows how to turn her back, however he needs an ingredient that will take about two weeks to get here. Until then she will stay a few days in each dorm, since it was a group effort from some of your first years to do this to her.” Crowley explained. They all snapped their heads in his direction.

“W-What!? What do we know about watching a child!?” Idia exclaimed through his tablet. 

“You're all housewardens. You know, responsibility. We can't keep an eye on her all the time since we have a lot of work so you all should be able to watch one child for a few days.” Crowley chimed, making everyone, even the little girl who at the moment knew nothing about him give him a blank stare. I mean…. He could have worded that better. He coughed in his hand and straitened his posture. “She will stay in Heartslabyul for the next three days, then Savanaclaw, then Octavinelle, then Scarabia, then Pomefiore, then Ignahyde, then Diasomnia. In that order.” He pointed to the members of said houses as he went along. They all sighed when they realized that there was no talking him out of this. 

“I'm sorry….” The little girl mumbled. They all looked at her, but Rook was the one to speak up first. 

“What do you mean little trickster?” Rook asked. 

“For causing so much trouble… everyone seems to be really upset with me…” She muttered looking down in guilt. 

“I-It's not you! Not at all! It's just a lot to take in right now!” Kalim said, trying to comfort the guilt filled girl. She met his gaze with an expression that clearly declared that she didn't believe him. Lillia moved her around in his arms to get her to lean against his shoulder. He stroked her back and hummed a light tune. She moved her hands to cling to the fae’s uniform and nuzzle into the fabric on his shoulder. She couldn't explain it but something about the way he cradled her in a comforting manner made her tired. 

“No one here would ever think of you as trouble, little one.” Lillia muttered. She let out a small hum, indicating that she heard him, though everyone was pretty sure that she didn't really hear what he said. He let out a chuckle as he started to rock her back and forth. “You seem to have had a long morning. Go ahead and rest for a little bit” He soothed her with his voice. After a few minutes of rocking the girl's body went completely limp in his hold as she fell to the temptation of sleep. Lillia let a huge grin plaster itself on his face, happy to have another chance to hold a child again. He looked back at all the young men in the room who gawked at him and his skill with children.

“How did you manage that?” Idia asked. Lillia let a chuckle ring out as he looked at all the shocked faces. 

“Just have a way with kids.” He said, rubbing the sleeping girls back. Rook took a step closer getting a better look at (Names) face as she slept. He narrowed his eyes as he grinned at her, reaching out for a strand of her hair. 

“I knew she would be the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Rook cooed quietly as he brought her hair to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. 

“Hey, giant lizard. You were talking all high and mighty. Why are you hiding in a corner?” Leona glanced at the tall male with horns. 

Malleus kept a watchful eye on the young girl, but kept a distance. He was used to people running from him or fearing him. However the one person in this world who didn’t fear or run from him didn't know him. He didn't know if his heart could take the cold rejection of the little girl who he considered his closest friend. He crossed his arms coolly as he brushed off the beastmans question. 

Lillia gave him a knowing smile as he appeared beside him, gently shoving the little girl into Malleus’s arms. The girl shifted her head a little as Malleus wrapped his arms around her. Her eyes opened for a second, meeting his shocked gaze. She gently smiled at him as she closed her eyes, leaning into him. Though he was still stiff, his expression loosened slightly as the small child cuddled into him. A gentle smile showed on his face as he stared down at the (Name). 

“You always surprise me..” he muttered quietly as he tried to mimic Lillia’s rocking skills. 

“This brings another question, where will she sleep?” Riddle asked, watching the child. 

“Well with the housewardens.” All the males looked at him again with wide eyes. Crowley placed his hands on his hips. “It only makes since, the housewardens have a room all to them selves, not to mention huge beds to boot. Sharing a little of that room wont hurt any of you.” Crowley explained. Before anyone could talk back, he straitened his posture and walked over to Malleus who still held the child in his hands. He moved his hand to stroke the childs hair out of her face. “A small thing with nothing, sleeping alone in a new environment will surely be a scary experience for her. However if she is surrounded by a bunch of strangers it might be overwhelming. Having one person will be good for her and comfort her.” He continued his explanation. If any of the boys had any objections, it died in their throats. It made since, to all of them. “Now, I do have some work I need to finish.” Crowley said, ushering the students out of the room. 

“What about clothes?” Trey got in as they were shoved out. 

“Oh, crewel Has that covered.” Crowley chirped as he closed his doors. The boys all sighed as they stared at the shut doors, then turned to the girl in Malleus’s arms. Trey moved forward, holding his arms out.

“I’ll go ahead and take her since she is coming to our dorm for a few days.” Trey offered. Malleus moved back a little, reluctant to let the child go. Lillia moved behind Malleus, giving him a pat on the back. A sigh left his lips as he begrudgingly gave the girl over to him. Riddle moved beside Trey, getting a better look of her. 

“It's hard to believe this little girl is our (Name).” Riddle muttered as he crossed his arms. A sigh left his nose as he looked to the side with a scowl on his face. “Remind me to punish Ace and Deuce when we return to the dorm.” Riddle said to Trey, earning a nervous laugh from said man.

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