#and i will definitely be beaten about the head with a pointy stick for this

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Even Morning Glories Fade

Fall upon your knees, Sing, "This is my body and soul here!”

He spoke in springbuds and sunshine petals- he wooed and cooed like the turtledoves in old terran stories; like the grinning and coy demigods of love and faith and lust and hope in all the stories Perceptor so often brushed away with the nervous insistence of a skeptic’s skeptic.

And oh, for shame! He fell in love with the sky’s scuffed colors and a crooked smile.

When Brainstorm began coughing so hoarse- a death rattle concerto done in a zephyrwhistle and the wheeze of the great northern gusts Perceptor wrapped the jet in arms too small to fit around the flier’s chest but warm all the same.

So many things, all the same- one frets, one flicks it away with a brush of servos and a shrug of wings so used to being folded it was silently feared they’d never open.

When Brainstorm gagged and choked on coiled.. masses, indiscernible at first but gaining shape and color and recognizability; Perceptor held him close to a twice broken once locked spark and rocked him from side to side- carefully thumping his curled digits against Brainstorm’s chest when the coughs would fizzle and break and go silent like the hum of glass after a lightning strike.

“PLEASE, HURRY, IT SOUNDS LIKE HES DYING!”

And oh, for shame! He was falling in love with the sky’s scuffed colors and a crooked smile.

And then Brainstorm lay on his side, with his optics dim and dull and tired and his smile waning like a forgotten mood as Perceptor let servos brush along cheekcabling that looked so like a death’s-head in the low light.

“You... You don’t believe that. N-Nonsense superstition, do you?”, laughed Brainstorm weakly, shifting slowly and wheezing a weak hack from the bottom of his respirators- the flutter of crystalline petals flickering free of him to scatter like starlight on old water.

“I was badly made, badly built- bad mechanics and blueprints all the way down, Percy. I was never meant to last, not really. Not with any kinda MEANING.”

“Don’t say that, hush.”, murmured Perceptor, soothing him or the jet he didn’t know anymore, “I don’t care about superstition or fairfolk warnings- I care about making you well, no matter what.”

“We both know there’s a flaw in my code, Percy.”

“Nonsense, it’s just a. A system glitch, Ratchet can fix it no problem.”

“Percy.”, whispered Brainstorm his words broken up by a coughing fit that leaked liquid life and glorypetals into his lap as he sat up slowly, clutching his aching chestplate, “Percy, I’m gonna die. Stories or not, processor reboot or not, I’m not gonna make it.”

“Liar.”

“I’m a lot’ve things Perce, but sadly I was always a terrible one of those.”

Perceptor sighed, leaning his helm forward to rest on Brainstorm’s shoulder, “Even.. Even suppose those old stories were true- who is it, Brainstorm? Who? If it’s not that... Pegheaded bastard, and not myself... Is it Whirl, perhaps? Cyclonus, or Tailgate? Hell, the Captain?”

Brainstorm couldn’t help that bitter winterwind laughter that tumbled out of him, the wheezing frigid winds carrying death and silence that shattered apart once again with coughs like prairie storm thunderclaps.

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you Percy.”, whispered Brainstorm once his coughs had settled, no longer bothering to brush away the crystalline petals sprinkled over him and the mediberth where he knew he’d come to die, “I can’t think of anyone I’ve loved that I didn’t... Find closure with.”

“Is... Is it because of me? Because I took so long?”

“No- this didn’t start until well after we got together. Well, it didn’t start getting bad.”

“...Brainstorm, when DID it start?”

A beat of silence, and then so softly; so quietly Perceptor’s audials barely caught it... Brainstorm spoke.

“It started the day they sent you away. And it got worse when Quark disappeared, and when the first timecase plans failed...”

Perceptor moved up onto the mediberth to settle close to Brainstorm- to allow him to hold tight and tighter and tightest to the reinforced scope frame; to take comfort from a modified tank grade engine rumbling beneath plating that wouldn’t (or perhaps couldn’t) open again.

“It... got better, for a while- once the case worked, once I almost did something right for once...!”

The coughing rattled Brainstorm again, spitting up and out the petals and blooms that filled his steelstrut ribcage like so many funeral sprays and made him choke on words he so desperately needed yet denied.

“Oh Stormy- raincloud, stormcell you ninny and absolute fool...”

“Wh-what?”

“All this love for the Things and Thems and Thats and Thoses in the world and never spared a drop for yourself-”, whispered Perceptor, bundling the jet close to him, “All this love and glee and manic joy and you never EVER once spared a SINGLE bit for yourself!”

Brainstorm couldn’t help the broken laughter that rang from him like a funeral bell- like the hymns in dead churches sung by priests who remember only sounds and sensation and never the true honest words.

“Brainstorm- Brainstorm, how can I...”

“You can’t, Percy.”, rasped Brainstorm feeling his sparkrate rocket high and drop, “No matter how mu-ch you s-say it; no matter how many times y-you try to prove it, I-”

Perceptor felt panic rise behind his chestplate, yowling for help at the door as Brainstorm’s coughs pulled forth more than just petals, more than just thorns.

“I a-am. A scientist. And I have seen no concrete evidence to the contrary.”

“Brainst- Brainstorm PLEASE! Please, I love you, Whirl loves you, so many people care so much for you-”

A gentle hand against Perceptor’s cheek, and he shrieked for assistance again as he heard the heavy thud of pedesteps as he looked back to the jet still nestled against him and covered in slivers of vine and leaf and thorn and shimmer.

“I love you too, Perce. But I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

“Brainstorm, please, just hold on, keep your vents cycling Ratchet’s almost here- you deserve to survive, to be loved just please PLEASE listen to me-”

“I’m sorry, Percy... But- I can’t believe you.”

His coughs rattled him from top to tip- wingpanels cracking with the force of his frame tensing as he coughs and hacked and choked in a mockery of gaudiness- As morning glory pale petals rained down and glinting bluegreengrey vines seemed to reach out as though Primus had planted funeral flowers over the spot the MTO’s heart had been until it broke one day-

Never to seal back together, only ever to grind itself on its own edges into gravesoil for the glories to grow.

And oh, for shame! He had fallen in love with the sky’s scuffed colors and a crooked smile.

[tinkerbellwoo]

Broken Wings - J. Wooyoung

Synopsis - You take a nasty tumble after going flower picking in a meadow far from home, that's when you meet a sweet fairy boy, Wooyoung.

Genre - Fluff

AU - Fairy AU

Pairing - Fairy!Wooyoung x Fairy!Reader (F)

Warnings - Swearing and mentions of cuts/bruises

Word Count - 1,400+ oopsies

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Minutes ago, all was well. You were gliding through the sky, weaving between trees as you clutched a collection of freshly picked flower buds to bring back to your den. Until one of your flowers fell from your grip, causing you to lose concentration and accidentally flying directly into a branch. 

You fell through many sticks and leaves as you failed to regain control, hitting your head against the rough bark on a tree before landing roughly on a large leaf where you lay motionless for a little while.

You’ve now managed to regain consciousness, sitting upright as you attempt to adjust to the situation, your head remains fuzzy but you seem to remember where things went wrong and how you ended up here. Examining your surroundings, you catch sight of your flowers, scattered beneath you and beaten by the tumble you took moments ago.

“Ah shit, my flowers...” You groan to yourself. Your knees and elbows sting due to the scrapes littering your skin. Fluttering your wings in an attempt to stand, you feel a sharp pain shoot through them to your spine, causing you to fall onto your hands and knees. “Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding” You hiss through your teeth at the pain.

Tears begin to stream down your face, partially because of the pain but also because you were so excited to go flower picking today and now your once-delightful outing just feels pointless. “What am I supposed to do now? I can't fly-”

Suddenly, you hear the light fluttering of wings. You look around in confusion, knowing full well it couldn't be your own pair due to the damage they received just moments ago. The surface of the leaf dips slightly as you look behind you. 

At first you’re fearful, what if you fell onto another colonies territory and they're angry? What if it’s a large bird coming to eat you? But all of your worries subside when you’re met with the sweet smile of the boy standing behind you. His wings are a shimmering gold, glowing against his pretty, tanned skin. His black hair frames his face beautifully as the blonde underneath creates an admirable contrast.

“Looks like you took quite the tumble there” He giggles “Are you okay?” He asks. You can't respond, you're far too focused on how attractive this stranger is. “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Wooyoung” He smiles, holding out a hand to help you up from the floor. You gladly accept his offer and dust the dirt from your legs as you find your feet.

“Hi uh- I’m Y/N and... I think I’m fine” You reply, slightly embarrassed that this gorgeous stranger has just witnessed you take the tumble of your life. “How embarrassing...” You whisper to yourself as a harsh blush spreads across your cheeks.

He giggles at your adorable state but your face burns more due to the feeling of his gaze on you. “Hey, it happens to the best of us” He comforts you with a hand on your shoulder. “Are you hurt? Your wings are damaged and it looks like you've got a few nasty cuts” He says, concern laced in his voice. 

“It hurts when I try to fly, the scratches don't bother me but I’m so far from home I just don't know what I’m going to do if I can't use my wings” You respond, gazing down at the floor in disappointment as you pull small twigs from your hair.

Wooyoung watches your sad expression, feeling unbearably sorry for you. He’s not one to take much notice of strangers but, when he saw you in the meadow his heart skipped a beat, his glittery aura flickered pink and his pointy ears twitched. He knew he may never see you again so he secretly followed you to find out where you came from. Right now he's doing his best to act like finding you was an accident.

“I don't live too far from here. If you come back to my den, I can give you some bluebell syrup. You’ll be healed by tomorrow and you can be on your way!” He says, hopeful that you'll accept his offer. “Sure, what other choice do I have right now” You laugh shyly. 

“Great! I-I’m going to have to carry you though... for obvious reasons” He blushes lightly. You giggle at the sweetness radiating from him, noticing the pink tint to his wings and the tips of his ears. A wave of confidence pushes you to wrap your arms around his neck as he holds you against him in preparation to take flight.

--------- Time Skip --------- 

“Feeling any better?” Woo asks as he disposes of the wet towels he used to clean your scuffs and scratches. “Mhm, thank you again for this. I really didn't know what I was going to do” You reply after sipping the last of the bluebell syrup he had prepared for you. “Of course!” He smiles.

“So I wanted to ask you something-” He begins with a serious tone before getting cut off by the door swinging open and rebounding off the wall. “YO BRO GUESS WHAT I JUST- woah who? what? when? how?” The boy practically yells followed by a string of questions upon noticing you.

Wooyoung pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs heavily in disappointment. “You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend- OW!” The guy chuckles, slapping Wooyoung’s shoulders but yelping when he receives a tug to his wings as a sign to stop his teasing.

“Y/N this is San, my best friend. San this is Y/N, she's not my girlfriend. She's hurt so I’m helping her” Wooyoung introduces you both. His aura flickers pink again, causing you to avert your gaze out of shyness. “Ohhhh I see! Wooyoungie has a crush!” San cheers before being chased out of the den by an embarrassed and slightly angry Wooyoung.

“I’m sorry about him. You should get some rest if you want to be able to fly well tomorrow. Is there anything you need?” Wooyoung asks softly. “No I should be fine, thanks. Where should I sleep?” You reply. “Sleep in my bed and I’ll stay on the couch, comfort is the key to recovery!” He smiles. 

“Goodnight, Wooyoung” You call out. “Goodnight!” He replies from the next room. You pull the wool blanket to your chin, blushing profusely as you recap the events with Wooyoung today. Your pointy ears twitch as your wings turn pink before you drift off with a smile.

Waking up to the smell of freshly baked goodies, you climb out of bed and walk to the kitchen to find chocolate chip cookies and an elderflower drink to compliment the treats. “He’s so sweet” You whisper to yourself with a smile. He left a note next to the meal which reads: “Y/N, I hope you slept well and are feeling healthy! I’ve had to run some errands but will be back before noon. Please hang around until I return! - Woo :)”

You polish off the plate and wash up the dishes as you wait for him to get back, it’s the least you can do for him after his kind gestures. 11am rolls around and the gorgeous boy walks through the door with his hands behind his back. “Hi Woo, where did you go?” You ask, curiosity overcoming you due to his actions. 

He approaches you as the pink tint decorates his wings and his cheeks once again. “These are for you” He says as he holds out an array of colourful flowers and some buds of the flowers you had dropped during your fall. 

“I felt bad seeing how upset you were when you dropped your flowers yesterday so, have these! Also, I wanted to ask you yesterday but for obvious and unfortunate reasons, I didn't get the chance-” He says causing you both to giggle. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go on a date with me-” He starts before being cut off by you wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

“Of course I’ll go on a date with you!” You accept with a smile. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. Both of your wings flutter as you embrace each other, a light dusting of glitter falling from you both as you swear you hear the light sound of bells ringing in your ears.

You knew from the moment you met him, he’d be the one for you.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A/N - Okay sooo, this is way longer than I wanted it to be but its cute so we’re gonna stick with it and pretend like it ain’t as long as it is okay? okay! Lol I had fun writing this, I felt really creative and I definitely want to write different AU’s in the future. Thanks for reading :3 💙

Tag List - @simphwa @yunhoiseyecandy @jonghoisababie @multidreams-and-desires

[nnightskiess]

₊° 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬. 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟗𝐭𝐡. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

tw: touching without consent

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

Julian opened the door with a cheeky smile, keeping it open for his friends and fellow heretics. His grin widened when lastly Nora and Y/N stepped inside— for the first time ever being able to hold hands while walking into a pub.

Even though Julian was pretty heartless, he still loved his little family just like any proud man would. He held a specific adoration for the two women. Not only did their fearless and ruthless attitude impress him every time again, he also loved the soft side they showed when it was just them and their family. Having seen both sides, made him make a promise to himself— to always protect them, no matter what, even though everyone knew both women were fully capable of that themselves.

“Ladies.” He bowed curtly and closed the door after him when everyone was inside.

“Now let’s have fun!”

Lily gave him a look, but her stern expression broke down because of his grin. Valerie and Beau wandered off to the bar, Julian wrapped his arm around a lost-looking Mary-Louise while Y/N’s eyes warily wandered around the place— this world was still new to her and she wasn’t sure if it would ever start to feel normal.

To say Nora was excited was an understatement. She had learned how use a mobile phone sooner than she had visited a pub in the 21st century and couldn’t wait to cross this off her list too. Her hand safely intertwined with Y/N’s, who looked around to take it all in. All the voices were hard to drown out in her head.

Y/N didn’t know how to feel about the world they were dropped in. In a way, the girl was a perfect mixture of Nora and Mary Lou— she was excited to explore this new version of earth but it also terrified her immensely. Scared of the unknown was a better way to put it. But, with Nora by her side, she was sure it wouldn’t be as scary. Besides, she had gone through scarier stuff before. A pub, filled with oddly dressed people talking about unknown or weird topics with electronic devices in their hands was nothing compared to fighting off fellow vampires or vampire hunters.

A squeeze in her hand interrupted her daydream. 

“-Love?”

“I’m sorry?”

Nora stood in front of her with her usual mischievous smile, holding out her other hand for Y/N to hold. Y/N grabbed it and let her lead her to an empty spot in the far corner.

“You sit your pretty butt down and I’ll get us something to drink.”

“No-”

“No weird 21st century cocktail,” Nora cut her off and rolled her eyes in amusement, “I know.” She whispered teasingly. 

Y/N crossed her arms and let out a puff of air. A few people stood crowded around a pool table, seemingly having fun. Right behind them was someone playing darts. 

Y/N snorted when all of his attempts went over the board— his darts now sticking into the wall. Even though she had never played before, she knew she would do way better. 

With the usual strut in her step, she walked over to the guy. She removed the darts out of the wall, not even looking at him. 

Y/N raised her eyebrows, quietly asking him what he was still doing there, standing in her spot. 

“You’re gonna try?” He seemed surprised and also unimpressed. 

“Can’t be worse than you.”

The guy bit his lip and put a hand through his ruffled dark curls. He watched from next to the woman as she threw dart after dart— most landing around around the bulls-eye. 

“Looks like you lost big time.” Nora teased and appeared next to Y/N, handing her girlfriend a drink before looking at the man. He seemed pissed but smug at the same time, now that two women seemed to want to keep him company. 

“Do you want to give it a go?” 

Nora shook her head and took a sip out of her beer bottle after landing on one of the seats around. She shrugged absentmindedly, “Long pointy things aren’t really my thing.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at the innuendo and handed the guy the darts. 

Nora sat with them for a while, shamelessly watching her girlfriend like a hawk while drinking her beer. God, Y/N looked great in these new type of clothes, no matter how much she had complained about how itchy her jeans were or how stupid it was that there were holes in them. Y/N had barely touched her drink, way too focused on their game of darts and thus also not realising how the guy stood closer to her every time they switched places. But Nora had. Oh, Nora definitely had. But like Lily had said before they left: no funny business, which meant that tearing the guy’s heart out was clearly not an option.  

The man finished his bottle of beer, any reservations he previously had washed away with the alcohol in his system. 

“You’re so fucking hot, look at you go.” 

Nora's lip curled into a sneer, ready to jump in.

“And gay.” Y/N’s reply seemed to fly over his head. 

“I doubt darts is the only thing you’re good at.” The way he said it made Nora’s blood boil.

“I better not have heard that correctly.” She flew up in an instant but the look on Y/N’s face told her she was ready to handle it on her own.

The guy held her lower back as he passed her and walked off into the crowd without another word.

Y/N turned around,

“What a dirty pig.”

“Glad that perverted git is gone.”

Nora immediately rolled her eyes at the look that followed on her girlfriend’s face.

“Nora Hildegard....jealous of a good-for-nothing guy? A guy!”

Y/N gave her a playful shove. Nora was barely jealous, Y/N knew that. They had been together for so long and had literally gone through sickness and health and basically died twice together, only coming out of it stronger. There was no one else for Y/N than Nora, and the heretic knew that all too well. 

“I just get disgusted how he treated you. Are there even normal men nowadays, instead of only pigs?”

“There were pigs back then, too.”

“Sure, but they don’t try to hide it now.” Nora grabbed Y/N’s arm and pulled her closer, planting a quick peck on the girl’s lips. Both girls felt triumph knowing that they could finally kiss in public without being beaten out of the pub. They both grinned when they pulled back, knowing they had thought the same. 

“I’m going to get myself another drink, be right back.”

Y/N turned back around and continued throwing darts, though this time she didn’t do her best, she just wanted to pass the time. After a couple minutes of absentmindedly throwing at the board in front of her, she felt a presence behind her. A hand suddenly grabbed her chin from behind and caught her by surprise. When feeling the presence, she had initially thought it was Nora who had returned, but her scent was far away and these rough hands holding her in place weren’t hers, neither were the chapped lips that were forcefully planted on her neck.

In the surprise of it all, she let out a muffled yelp. His intoxicated mind took this as an invitation to continue, making Y/N freeze every muscle in her body. Shove the damn bloke off, she yelled at herself. She knew she had the strength, but she was so shocked that her brain didn’t know how to send the signals to the rest of her body. 

Over at the bar, Nora had heard her girlfriend’s muffled cry for help thanks to her hearing and immediately filtered out the rest. She didn’t care who saw her use her speed, or who would witness the thing about to happen next. All she cared about was helping Y/N and doing whatever harm popped into her mind to the guy holding her locked.

Nora’s speedy walk caught the attention of all the people around and the hushed whispers immediately reached the rest of the heretics.

Y/N still stood there, limp, shocked, horror in her eyes and in that moment, all Nora saw was red. Her eyes darkened, black veins formed around her eyes and her teeth shone in the dim bar light, serving as a warning. She grabbed the man’s head, who finally realised all eyes were on him. 

Nora squeezed his head and slammed it into the wall next to him in full force within a second. She dropped him and gave him a second to recuperate. He groaned and looked dazed... or maybe he was still drunk? Not effective enough, Nora thought. Her eyes quickly flickered to Y/N’s, seeing her girlfriend nod slowly. She was okay. Well, she wasn’t, but she’d be okay until Nora was done with the guy. 

“Nora! Leave it!”

But she zoned out every voice or rational thought and didn’t hear Lily yell. She tended to do that when it came to Y/N being hurt. The rest of the heretics watched in anticipation, knowing Nora wouldn’t do this if the guy hadn’t deserved it. Some of them even wore smirks.

Nora stood over him, an evil and taunting look on her face. 

“Now, that did not have the desired effect I hoped for. Apparently your head’s not as hollow as I deemed it it to be.” Within a flash, she held him by his neck and made him stand up, squeezing the air out of his lungs. His face turned blue, “This might have.”

Her hand dove into his chest and pulled out his heart. People who had previously watched in confusion and terror, now started screaming, especially when Nora turned around— heart in her hand, blood dripping down her arm, eyes bloodshot and fangs out.

“You fool!” Lily frantically looked around, not knowing where to start damage control.

Nora threw the heart behind her, not caring where it landed. He didn’t need it anymore, anyway. She blinked a few times, going back to normal, before running up to Y/N.

She held the girl’s cheeks and softly examined her before her eyes landed on her girlfriend’s face. The look Nora had sported not even ten seconds ago, the one that had frightened everyone in the bar, completely vanished the moment she held her girlfriend in her arms. Instead, her soft eyes were now filled with worry.

“Are you alright?!”

Y/N kept quiet, ashamed she couldn’t stand up for herself. Nora nodded, knowing very well what Y/N was thinking but couldn’t say. Being together for so many years made it easy to read someone that well. 

She pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her girl’s head close to her chest and planting multiple kisses on her hair. She softly massaged the girl’s scalp. She knew Y/N always responded better to physical contact, which was why Nora used it to calm the girl down most times.

Y/N was safe now, in her arms, and Nora would protect her with her life. In this century and in the next.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

tag list: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

[lannister-slings-and-arrows]

Sleep Therapy

A Frederick Chilton x Reader fanfic written in collaboration with the lovely and talented @pascalispretty​ . I can’t believe that we have been writing smut with each other since before we went under quarantine and this is the first time we’ve actually gotten our acts together and published it. I refuse to apologize for this, y’all were warned lol. I now dedicate this to my favorite prickly, grumpy, lonely, little asshole man, Frederick (never Freddy) Chilton.

Part One of the series A Sign That Someone Loves Me Part Two: Laugh With Me a Little

Warnings: sex, somnophelia, drug use, inappropriate use of prescription drugs, over stimulation, dubious consent, references to voyeurism, fingering, oral (female receiving), Fred being Fred

Rating: yeah, this is definitely M folks  Word Count: 6111 sorry not sorry lol Summary: It’s been a long week for you and your fiancé and you’re exhausted. Yet Dr. Chilton has always been a firm advocate for the unorthodox, and a little sleep therapy might do you both a world of good. 

The project that you had been working on all week was finally finished. No more early mornings, no more late nights, no more spending more time at the office with the coworkers you were at best acquaintances with than at home with your lovable asshole fiancé. Said lovable asshole fiancé who had also had a busy week at work. 

You had woken up this morning with the intention of dragging him to your bedroom as soon as you got home and demanding he make up for an entire week without sex, but when you finally open the door and toss your keys on the table, the thought of doing anything more strenuous than crawling into bed was too much. 

You find Fred waiting for you in the kitchen, and by the looks of his discarded suit coat and rolled up sleeves, he had beaten you home by at most a half an hour. He had already helped himself to dinner, judging by the empty takeout carton on the kitchen counter. He has the good grace to at least look guilty about having eaten without you.

“Hey, you. I didn’t know what time you’d be back, and I was ravenous.” He says, by way of an apology. You’re too tired to even tease him about it; you just want to get out of your work clothes, and fall into bed.

“Don’t worry about it, Fred. I’m too tired to eat anyway.” Your eyelids are heavy as you strip off your jacket and kick your shoes off, letting them fall next to the kitchen island. He frowns at you as you kiss the side of his head and give his hair a brief ruffle (it was soft and nearly product free at the end of the day and, even exhausted, you were incapable of not playing with it a little) before squeezing his shoulder and making your way out of the kitchen and back to the stairs. 

“I’m going to head up to bed, today kicked my ass.” You call over your shoulder, not expecting, but not entirely unsurprised either to hear the legs of the kitchen stool he had been sitting on scrape across the floor as Fred stands to follow you up to your room. He grabs your fingers as the two of you make your way up the stairs and presses them gently. 

You throw yourself onto the giant bed Fred insists is entirely necessary, not bothering to draw the curtains, thinking that you’ll just rest for a few minutes before getting undressed. Fred sits on the bed next to you and rests a hand on your leg. His hands are so broad and warm, and as tired as you are, you still sigh at the light touch. 

“Come cuddle me.” You mumble, feeling the mattress shift beneath you as Fred settles himself comfortably beside you, resting his head on your tummy. It’s an entirely deliberate choice of position on his part; he enjoys you playing with his hair almost as much as you enjoy playing with it, and you don’t hesitate to slide your fingers back into his thick black hair. 

He grumbles happily and rests more of his body against you, trapping one of your thighs between his legs as he lies half on top of you. As exhausted as you are, you don’t miss the little flick of his hips against your thigh; clearly, it’s been a long week for him as well. 

You smile sleepily down at the top of his head, fingers digging into his hair, deliberately attempting to solicit another twitch of his cock against your leg. You were so tired but he was so warm and heavy and you loved the feeling of him hardening against you. And just because you aren’t in any kind of shape to be participating doesn’t mean that Fred can’t have some fun- he’s proven that exhaustion and even sleep aren’t really barriers to his getting the two of you off before. 

More than once, you’ve woken up to his face between your thighs and halfway to a breathless climax. Even in the early days of your relationship his desire to watch you, in any sense, was evident; he liked cuddling you close and watching you fall asleep as much as he liked watching through the glass while you showered. 

You feel the satisfied and happy noises Fred is making deep in his chest where he’s pressed against you when you tug a little on his hair and drag your nails gently across his scalp. The low, almost vibrating purr that emanates from the broad body on top of you is nearly as exciting as the hands he trails up your torso to settle on top of your breasts- rubbing across your nipples through your bra and your shirt. Fred digs his face, with it’s pointy sharp nose and it’s pouty lips perpetually drawn into a smirk, into your belly and hums quietly. 

“I thought you were tired.” He murmurs against your stomach, nuzzling against your skin where the hem of your shirt has ridden up. As good as he feels- his comforting bulk on top of you, those exquisite hands on your breasts, the soft mouth against your abdomen- you know you’re far too tired to do anything. You’re so comfortable, sprawled out in the sunlight streaming through your open windows, that you feel like you’re going to drift away any second. 

“I am. Why don’t I have a nap; you can always have some fun of your own.” You manage, having to fight back a yawn in order to finish your sentence. Fred hums contentedly as you carry on playing with his hair, the silky strands so soft under your fingers. 

“As much as I would love to take you up on that,” Fred murmurs against your tummy, and gives your breasts a gentle squeeze, “I know that you’d never sleep through what I want to do to you. And you really do need to catch up on your sleep.” With a long sigh that feels warm on your exposed skin, he moves to roll off you. Tired though you might be, you don’t want Fred to stop. Instead, you clutch at his shoulders as inspiration strikes. 

“Don’t you still have those horse tranquilizers locked in your office?” 

“They aren’t ‘horse tranquilizers’.” He replies snippily, though his imperious tone is utterly belied by the image of his hair sticking up in a dozen different directions as he lifts his head up a little to look at you. You can’t resist a quiet snort at the sight of him, normally so compulsive about his grooming, and you shoot back, trying not to laugh at your “dignified” lover,

“Might as well be. I nearly slept for 14 hours the last time you gave me one of those.” He looks up at you, green eyes soft and surprisingly not offended, chin digging into your belly and shrugs. He rests his cheek on your bare skin again and you sigh, thinking that that’s the end of that as he nuzzles into your stomach, only to watch him sit bolt upright when he catches your meaning. Those sharp green eyes search your face intently. 

“You want me to drug you, and then have sex with you while you’re unconscious?” He says incredulously, the image of outrage only spoiled by the fact that you can still feel his half-hard cock against your thigh.

You shrug one shoulder at him, limbs loose and fuzzy as you try to stay awake enough to soothe his now very ruffled feathers and convince him that this is a good idea. 

“You like going down on me when I’m asleep. Why is this any different?” You ask. He stares at you, eyes narrowed, hands on your legs, silent for a moment. 

“Normally the point of that is to eat you out until you wake up. Not deliberately put you to sleep to eat you out.” He mumbles, sounding more hesitant than rejecting the idea outright. 

“True,” you grant, rubbing the backs of his hands. “But tell me you wouldn’t like getting to tell me all about the fun time we had when I wake up in the morning.” You see and feel his cock twitch at the idea of describing in detail eating you out- talking was one of life’s greatest pleasures for your loquacious asshole. 

“It doesn’t have to be a whole pill. And I do want this Fred, I swear. But if you aren’t in the mood...” You trail off and watch him carefully. You can practically see him weighing the idea up in his mind, the thought of being able to touch you and fuck you while you slept, without fear of waking you, clearly interesting him. 

“Well, Doctor Chilton?” You ask, settling yourself more comfortably against the pillows. “Am I going to have to sign a medical consent form to convince you?” He rarely looks so torn; worked up further by your use of his title, yet still bothered by something. 

“What if I hurt you? You won’t be able to tell me if something’s wrong.” He says eventually, sounding so adorably concerned that if you were less tired, you would have sat up and pulled him in for a cuddle.

Instead you smile softly at him and tug on his hands to pull him down to you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he buries his face in your neck. 

“Oh, Fred,” you soothe. “Darling you won’t hurt me, you never hurt me. You’re always so careful.” He shakes his head, nose rubbing against your neck. 

“I might though, and you wouldn’t be able to tell me to stop.” You stroke his hair gently. Fighting sleep with him so warm and heavy and soft on top of you was getting difficult. 

“Then be gentle. Like you always are. And think of it this way, you can check me out like you sometimes want to afterwards, and I won’t complain or laugh at you about it,” you try, smiling down at the top of his head.

Once, after a rougher session than Fred usually indulged in, he had asked you questions about pain or discomfort, while trying to check you for internal bruising. You allowed the questions but when he tried to shuffle down the bed to stick his fingers back in and look, you pinched his ear and shoved his hands away. 

“I’m a trained medical professional you know,” he grumped at you, worried and offended now. You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Oh yeah? How many years ago did you do a rotation in gynecology? I’m fine Fred, go to sleep.”

You know you have him then. He groans low against your skin, before leaning back so he can look you in the eyes. 

"You promise me that you want this?" He asks sincerely, his fingers curling under your chin and encouraging you to look up at him. You nod sleepily, fighting off a yawn.

“I promise. As long as you tell me about it in the morning. I want all the details." You add, squeezing him as best as you can given how tired you are. Fred gives you a long look, and kisses you softly before rolling off of you and getting off the bed. He disappears, and you have to fight to stay awake without the distraction he provided, your eyelids so heavy you feel like you might well pass out before he gets back. It only takes him a few minutes to reappear, carrying a glass of water and a pill. 

"I'm only giving you half." He says, putting it carefully into your hand as you sit up enough to be able to take it. It's bitter on your tongue, so you swallow it quickly, washing it down with the water before he can have any second thoughts. He watches you like a hawk as you lie back down. 

"It'll take about an hour to kick in." You hardly hear him, falling back against the pillows and pulling the covers around you out of habit. Drowsily, you think that you should have undressed first, but you're too tired to pay it much mind. You feel Fred pressing delicate kisses to your face, one over each eyelid, one on the tip of your nose, and the barest brush of his lips to your own.

"Sweet dreams, my dear."

~X~

You wake up slowly the next morning, warm and cocooned in seemingly every blanket in your bedroom plus a heavy still snoring psychiatrist. The early morning blueish grey sunlight filters through the big windows Fred loves so much and lands on the bed next to you. Fred’s arms are loose around you, his body draped halfway on top of yours. 

You smile faintly when you notice you’re wearing one of his shirts under all of the blankets and that your hair is done up in one of the ridiculously elaborate braids that he likes to show off with on occasion. Yes Fred, you have very long, very clever fingers, congratulations, you think to yourself with an indulgent smile. You shift your legs, stretching out and tangling them with his, and Fred’s arms tighten around you.

"G'morning, Sleeping Beauty." He mumbles against your collarbone, giving you a little squeeze as he stirs. You take his use of the nickname as a good sign; certainly your body feels pleasantly loose, the hint of an ache between your thighs telling you that at least something happened last night. Pressing your lips against the top of Fred's head, you shiver a little as his fluffy hair tickles your face. 

"Morning yourself." You sigh happily, wrapping yourself around him and trying to encourage him to lie more directly on top of you. You're itching to ask him what happened last night, but you're not entirely sure yet if he's still half-asleep. He lets you pull at him, his warm, broad bulk settling over you and pressing you comfortably into the mattress as you wrap your legs around him. He must be fully awake; he pulls the collar of his shirt away from your neck so he can press a kiss there.

He continues to kiss every spot on your neck and collarbone that he can reach without moving his head and you sigh, relaxing under him. You can feel every inch of him on your body- the soft scratch of his stubble on your chest, the bare skin of his legs brushing against yours, the soft cotton of his boxer briefs rubbing deliciously against your clit. You snicker quietly. Of course he didn’t put your underwear back on. 

“Mmm, feel good this morning,” you mumble quietly, eyes closed. He nips at your collarbone and you feel a smirk stretch across his lips against your skin. 

“You should,” he mutters. “You certainly came enough.” He brags proudly and you’d slap his shoulder but the light ache between your legs feels so good you know he isn’t lying. With a groan, you stretch out beneath him and slide your fingers into the thick hair at the back of his head. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask carefully, letting your nails scratch ever so lightly against his scalp. Fred makes a soft, satisfied little noise in the back of his throat at the feeling; he must have missed you playing with his hair last night. Instead of answering straight away, he drags his tongue up your throat, tracing the line of your jugular vein and making you shiver at the sensation. 

“Does it bother you that you don’t know?” His breath is hot against the side of your jaw, and your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair. “Or does it turn you on?” He practically purrs, nipping at your earlobe. 

You pant lightly, shivering, your fingers clenching in his hair as his hands find their way inside of his shirt, long clever fingers dancing across your skin and brushing quickly over your nipples. You can feel yourself getting wet as his teeth nibble gently on your ear and the soft hairs at the back of your neck prickle at the feeling. 

“Turns me on.” Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and he nods. You don’t have the wherewithal right now to try and tease him; he’s so warm and heavy on top of you, and you feel so loose and satiated. It hardly matters if your words go straight to his ego. It sounds as though he more than earned the right to be smug last night. 

“Oh I can tell. I can feel you all over the front of my shorts,” he informs you, voice deeper and his erection growing between you. “Well, I suppose telling you all about it was part of the deal.” He presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers, “You were such a good girl, you came six times last night.”

“Six?” You ask with a whimper; no wonder you feel so loose and languid and just a little sore. Your last record was four before you had had to drag Fred away from you by the hair and plead with him tearfully that you needed him to stop. Your legs tighten around him reflexively and  he nods, his nose bumping against your cheekbone. 

“Six.” Fred confirms smugly, pinching one of your nipples and making you gasp. “I wanted to try for more, but you were starting to get...twitchy.” He says with a snicker. His fingers slide lower, working open the buttons of the shirt you’re wearing. Every brush of his knuckles against your skin sends a jolt of heat directly to the center of you, and you gasp as his fingers move lower and lower down your body. 

“It’s a shame you couldn’t have seen yourself. All pliable and pretty for me.” The smirk on his face is downright feral, and you can’t help yourself as you grind your hips up against him. “You were doing that in your sleep, you know. Rubbing yourself up against my pants while I was playing with your nipples. I thought you were going to make yourself come from just that when I started sucking them.” He sounds so smug and self-satisfied, but you want more. You’re practically about to beg him to let you record what he’s saying, god his voice does things to you that you’re pretty sure are criminal offenses in some states, but you choose your words with more care than that. 

“Start at the beginning. Please Fred, tell me everything.” Your soft little plea is accompanied by another tug on his hair, another little buck of your hips. He hums against your cheek, his palms cupping your breasts and squeezing gently. His hands are warm, and broad, and you arch your back into his touch, desperate to press as much of yourself against him as possible. 

“Should I walk you through it? Step by step?” You moan and nod sharply, his nose dragging against your face. He kisses your cheek and ruts his hips softly against yours, the drag of his semi-hard cock against your clit making the muscles in your legs spasm and jerk. “Well,” he begins. “I held you while you fell asleep, that was nice. You know how cuddly you get when you’re sleepy.” He nips at your nose and kisses you quickly on the mouth. 

“That didn’t take too long, and god you were so soft in my arms.” His thumbs brush across your nipples and you gasp, hips arching into him and his hard cock again. “Then I kissed you, all over your face, all over your neck, as I unbuttoned your shirt and tossed it across the room.” 

He presses his forehead to yours and one of his hands leaves your breast and comes up to your chin. He turns your face to the side and whispers, “Look. Open your eyes and look, it’s over there, hanging off that armchair.” You look and sure enough there’s your blouse, hanging half off the chair he loves to sit in when he watches you get yourself off. He’s using the same tone of voice as he does when he sits back and orders you to take your clothes off and touch yourself, and it goes straight to your core. 

Fred chuckles right into your ear, nipping at the lobe. “Your pants were next. They seemed easier to slip off, and I didn’t know if the pill had fully kicked in enough. Once they were gone, I knelt between your legs, and just looked at you for a while. Deciding what to do with you.” You can picture it so clearly; Fred, still practically fully dressed, while you were splayed out half-naked and unconscious for him. It’s a mental image that is far too attractive for what it is. The enlightened feminist in you knows you shouldn’t be as turned on as you are by it, but when has that ever stopped you exploring some of Fred’s less conventional kinks. 

“I think I ended up kissing every inch of you last night. I started at one ankle, and covered you in kisses, all the way up to your forehead and then back down your other leg.” With the hand that’s still cupping your face, he brushes his fingertips delicately over your lips. “You were smiling in your sleep.” Fred says smugly, his smirk only broadening when you open your mouth and start to suck lightly on the tips of his fingers. If it weren’t liable to make him too breathless to continue, you’d offer to suck his dick while he talks, but you’ll happily settle instead for those gorgeously long fingers of his. 

“I could see how wet you were through your underwear by then. I’d barely touched you, but you were already soaked.” He groans, long and pleased, as you continue to suck on his fingers. You can still smell yourself on them, but all you can taste is him so he must have beaten you to licking them off. 

“Fuck, you were so wet, I didn’t even bother trying to put them back on. Even after I spent hours on you they were still damp.” You moan around his fingers and he squeezes your breast. “I slipped them off of you and spread your legs and, god, love, you were laying there so sweet and nice and ready for me.” He lets go of your breast and runs his hand down your side, stopping to hang onto your hip.

“I didn’t start there though. I still had to get your bra off- you didn’t even stir when I broke the clasp.” He squeezes at your hip, but makes no move to stop your little thrusts as you try and grind against his cock, frustrated at the lack of friction. 

“I spent so long on just your breasts; kissing them all over, sucking and biting at your nipples.You absolutely soaked the front of my pants, trying to rut up against me.” He says with a low chuckle. You can’t even fault him for sounding so smug; clearly you didn’t even need to be conscious to be desperate for him. 

“And when I just couldn’t wait anymore, I gave in and started licking that sweet little cunt of yours.” Fred pinches your thigh, and you moan as best as you can around his fingers. For having seemed so hesitant about the idea at first, he had clearly taken to it eagerly. 

You could feel just how eager he was to just tell you about it by the way he was pressed hard and hot against your cunt, letting you grind your hips against him in a desperate bid to get off. Except for the occasional tiny thrust that he seemed incapable of resisting, Fred held absolutely still and let you try to work off of him yourself. 

“And oh, you tasted so sweet. Feeling your thighs twitch next to my head every time my nose brushed or bumped against your clit- because I had to clean off such a messy, wet workspace first, I couldn’t just go for the treat I really wanted- was delightful. Every time I licked over your cunt, or dipped the tip of my tongue inside a little you’d twitch, but besides those little spasms you didn’t move away from my mouth at all. Why, I hardly had to do any work at all darling.” You drag your teeth across his knuckles and his fingers dig into your thigh as he lets out a loud gasp, rocking his erection, still trapped in those stupidly tight boxer briefs, hard against you. 

“Fuck, yes, those were orgasms numbers one and two; just me, cleaning up your mess before we could really get to the main event. And I took my time.” You were sure he did.

“Normally number three is when you start pulling at my hair like you want to scalp me.” He teases, dragging his nose along your neck and inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you. Even after spending half the night indulging in you, it’s as though he still can’t get enough of you. 

“But last night, you were such a good girl, letting me suck on your clit and fuck you with my tongue as much as I wanted. I even spat on your cunt, just to see whether that would get more than a twitch out of you. I think it just made you jump.” Another low chuckle rumbles through his chest and vibrates against your neck, and you whine around the fingers filling your mouth. The idea of Fred doing that is too much; you slip one hand from his hair and scratch at his back as you try to pull him, impossibly, closer to you. 

“That was number three and number four.” He says, hissing slightly at the catch of your nails against his skin. “By then, I thought I’d conduct a little experiment. I wanted to see if you were wet enough for me to get four of my fingers inside of you.” Oh and the thought of that, combined with the rock of your clit against his cock and the drag of his underwear against that bundle of nerves, still sensitive from last night, is just too much. 

You’re on the brink of another orgasm, it feels so good it almost hurts, and you whine around his fingers as you imagine the feel of nearly all of his fingers inside you. If you didn’t think it would leave you sore, you’d ask him to do it again now that you’re awake, just to see for yourself. 

“Yes, my darling, four. We’ve only ever done three before, I know, but,” he licks lightly at your neck. “I figured now was the time to push our luck, with you so wonderfully soft and pliant beneath me.” You rock harder against him, faster and faster as he describes putting first one, and then two fingers inside you. 

“Two was easy, and after four orgasms and that sedative you were so relaxed that three wasn’t as difficult as it normally is.” He spreads your legs to give you more room to really move against him and encourages you with a few thrusts of his own. You’re so close- 

“My goodness you’re really enjoying this aren't you? Hearing all about what a good, cooperative girl you were for me, letting me do just what I wanted to you. Are you ready to hear about how slowly I worked on finger number four?” He asks quietly, and you whimper and nod around his fingers in your mouth.

“You were taking three so well, but I know how much you like to be stuffed full. You only had my pinkie to go, just my little finger, but you already felt so tight around the others. I spent so long easing you open, love, stretching your perfect little cunt out so carefully until I could just get the tips of all four fingers in.” You’re rolling your hips faster now, chasing your seventh orgasm in less than twelve hours and scrabbling at Fred’s back in an attempt to get him to meet your thrusts. You feel greedy, and increasingly sore, but you’re utterly helpless to stop yourself. 

“God, it was such a pretty sight. I couldn’t resist watching all four of my fingers disappear inside of you, so slowly that you would have felt every millimetre if you’d have been awake.” As if to emphasize his point, he pushes his fingers a little deeper into your mouth. “Such a good girl, are you going to come again? Give me another, my darling, that’s it.” He coos as you fall apart, sobbing around his fingers as you come. The heat licking its way through your veins is verging on painful, your pleasure laced with a deep ache as your hips stutter and jerk against Fred. 

“That’s it, just like that, yes, oh, that’s wonderful darling,” Fred praises you softly, petting your thigh as you ride through this, aching and jerking against him as he holds still above you. You try to whine his name around his fingers and he chuckles. “What was that?” He asks, finally pulling his fingers from your mouth slowly, grabbing onto your chin and leaving wet marks on your skin. 

“Fred, fuck, that was-” You pause to take a deep breath. “That’s only number five.” Fred grins at you, pouty pretty lips stretched over perfect white teeth. He nods. 

“Number five was with just the tips of my fingers inside you.” He agrees, wet fingers still squeezing your chin. His nose bumps against yours affectionately. “Number six was my favorite.” You can’t look away from his bright, sharp green eyes. “Number six. Wow.” He sighs happily and lets go of your chin and your thigh. Letting himself rest all the way on top of you, his bare skin warm against yours, his weight heavy and perfect, he frames your face with his forearms and cards his fingers through your hair. 

“Oh, I loved number six. Darling, I had four fingers inside of you and you were just so tight.” He ruts gently against your sore and aching cunt. “You were so tight so I just pushed them all the way in so, so slowly, and then, with all of them deep inside of you, I got to use my tongue on your clit one last time.”

You’re aching so much already, and every drag of his hips makes your clit hurt, but you need to be closer to him. Impatiently, you pull at the waistband of his boxer briefs, dragging them down just enough to free his cock. 

“Need you, please Fred. I need you inside me.” You whimper, utterly beyond caring about how smug he looks; he’s more than earned it. 

“You were making the sweetest little noises by number six, love. The softest gasps and hitches in your breathing; I thought I was going to come in my pants like a teenager.” He cuts himself off with a low grunt as he slides against your soaked entrance, one of his hands slipping between your bodies so he can guide himself into you. You cry out sharply as he fills you, the pleasure shadowed by the slightest whisper of pain. 

“After six, I took the rest of my clothes off, and finally fucked you. I thought about moving you onto your tummy for that, but I wanted to watch my cock split you open.” He stays still inside of you, despite your nails scraping lightly along his back and sides, desperately seeking for purchase. Instead, he brushes your hair delicately away from your face, utterly unbothered by your squirming. 

“Fred, Fred please, Jesus, move please...” You whine, shifting underneath him, hitching your legs up around his hips and moaning as he slides deeper into you. 

“Oh, darling, you always take me so well, even after six orgasms.” He rocks his hips slowly and you dig your nails into his sides, gasping as his cock hits a spot inside you that has your whole body aching so good. “There it is,” Fred sighs smugly. Every muscle in your body contracts as he pulls out inch by inch, making sure you feel every bit of him. His fingers are soft on your face as he holds still just inside you as you pant, eyes tightly shut. 

“Fred...” 

He kisses first one cheek and then the next, and then both eyelids before instructing, “Open your eyes.” You bite your lip and draw a shaky breath before doing so. His green eyes are sharp and as soon as he has your attention he pushes slowly back into you. 

“Ah ah ah,” he chastises as your eyes slip closed. “Open.” He sets the slowest pace you can ever remember Fred fucking you, staring into your eyes as he takes you apart piece by piece on his cock. He fucks you deeply, and sore or not, you feel a familiar burning feeling in the pit of your stomach beginning to boil, your nerves twitching, your legs locking around his waist. It’s a fight to keep your eyes open and on his. 

Somehow it feels so much bigger, so much more, with his eyes locked on you seeing everything, seeing right through you. You need him to come; you don’t think you have another orgasm left in you. 

“This is how I fucked you last night.” Fred says, practically purring when you slide your fingers back into his hair. 

“So slowly, and so deeply that I thought I might hit the end of you. God, I’d spend all my time buried in your perfect cunt if I could, you’re always so tight, and warm, and wet for me. And you were so good last night, so pliant and pretty. My very own Sleeping Beauty.” He huffs a laugh, his breath warm against your skin and only adding to the complete sensory overload you’re experiencing. You buck your hips and try to tighten around him, trying to push him into coming faster. 

“Fred, please, I can’t.” You sob weakly, looking deeply into those piercing eyes of his and searching for a reprieve. Every lick of burning pleasure that’s coiling in your core hurts just a little more than the one that came before, and you truly don’t know how much more you have in you. 

“Oh you can, darling. I know you can, you really can.” He encourages, smile easy, eyes so sure, so confident. You squeeze your legs around his waist and tug hard on his hair. 

“Fred, god-” You break off with another sob, and Fred groans as you clench around his cock inside of you. 

“Just a little more darling, just- fuck, just a bit more.” Fred thrusts harder a few times, hips stuttering, eyes tightening and his hands leaving your hair to grip the pillow next to your head hard, twisting the fabric between his fingers. You cry out as his hips shove hard once, twice and he comes, finally breaking eye contact to bury his face in your neck, grazing his teeth against your skin. 

You clutch him to you tightly as he grumbles happily into your neck, soft satisfied sounds as he presses you into the mattress, cock still jerking inside of you. You breathe heavily underneath him, aching, sore, and content, your nerves still twitching, and your legs still clutched around him. 

You’re not sure how long the two of you lie like that for, both thoroughly worn out and satiated. It’s not long before the soreness between your legs makes itself known, and Fred doesn’t miss your wince as you try to shift your legs. In an instant he’s sitting up, pulling out of you carefully so as not to hurt you further, those gorgeous green eyes full of concern as he looks you over. As sore as you are, you try to tug him back down on top of you, but he’s having none of it.

“I think you need a hot bath. Doctor’s orders.” He says firmly. You’re in no mood to bicker with him; quite honestly, the idea of relaxing in your claw foot tub with him sounds incredible. Before he can climb out of bed to start running the water, you catch his hand. 

“We’re definitely trying this again, aren’t we?” You say, with an exhausted little laugh. 

[monomonomagines]

For the Anon that Requested the V3 Boys Finding S/o Dead and Being Mocked in the Class Trial

Thank you thank you thank you anon for being so understanding about my issues with gore and blood. I'm normally ok as long as I don't go into more than general details so I hope it's still to your liking.

As I said before, I love you and am elated that you were so understanding. I hope you enjoy this anon!

Rantaro

Rantaro hadn't expected the Body Discovery Announcement to play so early in the morning but when did anyone expect it to go off really.

It was always a premonition for another terrifying class trial and that's all they ever would be for him.

He expected to be able to talk to you asking you to help him investigate per usual but when he approached the gym and saw everyone surrounding what presumably was a body but his heart sank.

Why weren't you there? If you were the only one he couldn't pick out then were you really what everyone was surrounding?

Before he comprehended it his hands were already parting the sea of his fellow classmates when there in the center you lay in a puddle of your own blood and a knife nearby.

Rantaro thought this was a nightmare and he wanted to wake up but when Shuichi and everyone else continued with the investigation he knew this was real.

He thought this couldn't get worse but then during the trial when the murderer began mocking you he couldn't help but feel like he was being kicked while he was down.

How dare he tell him about your screams of help, of how he wasn't there to protect you. How dare he!

Although he was normally fairly calm all hell broke loose in that trial.

Meaning, if not for the rules he would've definitely beaten the murderer.

Ryoma

Ryoma was in his lab when he heard that accursed announcement ring out in the same manner as always.

Great, another trial. He groaned audibly just wanting to see you.

He knew he'd have to help with the investigation but being with you always helped him stay grounded.

That's why he didn't even know how to react when the very ground he used to stand upon was somehow pulled from under his feet.

He didn't even know how to react when he walked in and saw everyone part for him.

There you lay so silent, so still. Not a drop of blood or anything tarnishing your image.

He could quickly put together that you were still dead, you were poisoned maybe he thought and when that blasted murdered mocked you.

When they dared to mock how the light left your eyes and told him of your demise well, it wasn't much of a shock that he watched that execution the whole time.

He'd make sure they'd pay for what they did to you.

Korekiyo

Kiyo already lost his sister so you were all he had.

He wasn't normally shaken up by this murder game as much as he should've been but he still didn't expect to hear the Body Discovery Announcement going off so late into the night.

He was confident that you'd all be able to find the murderer though so he wasn't too worried.

He'd simply stick by you the entire time that the investigation was occurring and would assist where he was needed only.

His confidence, however, was short-lived when he saw everyone looking at him, surrounding a body and some rope on the ground.

He pushed through immediately needing to know if it was what he thought and when it was, all he could do was laugh.

He laughed and laughed until he began to sob for you were all he had left and now you were gone.

Without you, he had nothing so he would do anything to make whoever did this suffer.

He is by far the most vengeful and is equally methodical.

He'd purposefully corner the murderer to the point that all they can do is mock him. Mock him about how you struggled against your bounds how you slowly stopped breathing how you were in agony and most of all how he wasn't there.

Like Ryoma, he'd watch their execution to the very end but under his mask is his own sinister smile.

They would pay for taking you from him.

Gonta

Gonta was always by your side so as soon as he heard the announcement go off he was already bounding to be at your side.

However, when he got to the Dining Hall, he knew that'd be impossible.

You were on the table and he couldn't even bear to look at what they had done to you.

There were forks and knives and all sorts of sharp pointy things in the dining hall and kitchen but Gonta never thought he'd see a single one used against you.

That's why he couldn't help but to cry out immediately.

He wasn't there for you and he regretted it.

However, he was also enraged. That's why when the murderer began to mock him he wasn't able to be stopped by anyone but Shuichi calmly trying to get him to focus more so on getting that person voted the blackened rather than Gonta beating him to a pulp.

Gonta won't watch the execution but he'll still cry at another classmate of his being taken away.

They might've killed you but they were still his friend. If only you guys weren't stuck here. Then Gonta wouldn't have had to lose both of you.

Kokichi

Kokichi always rushed to the scene of crime whenever he heard that announcement rear its ugly head.

He always had to know what was going on so when it was another locked room mystery he picked the lock without much thought other than that it was as easy as the last.

He proudly walked in with Shuichi and the others so proud of his own skills that at first, it didn't sink in that you were dead.

At first, it wasn't you that lay face down and bloody on the ground with the murder weapon lying nearby.

No, it was someone else. It wasn't the one person he got close to. Not at all.

Even during the trial, he'd act chipper as ever trying to lie to himself until the murderer begins to mock him.

How dare he!? Not only did he take the one person that Kokichi had truly opened up to but now they were mocking the way that you trusted him so much, how you called for him even as you were slowly fading from this world.

It wasn't fair at all! He'd expect something like this but being mocked just made the damn break.

Suddenly Kokichi was doing more work than Shuichi to finish up the class trial, not even one bs statement coming from his lips.

He was serious about avenging you and he certainly did just that when the killer was voted the blackened.

Like Gonta he wouldn't even bother to watch the execution. He'd just excuse himself as soon as it was possible to go back to his room. He needed time to isolate himself for a while.

Kaito

Kaito was terrified each time he heard the Body Discovery Announcement but he knew that he'd be needed to help so he'd have to come to the scene of the crime.

Normally he'd catch you on the way and you'd head in together but it seemed like you beat him.

Alright, he guesses he doesn't really mind in the end since it's not like he can't catch you then but when he notices a strange vial next to your body sitting in a chair as though you were just asleep he still lets out a shrill scream.

You were gone. He couldn't save you. How did this even happen? Why did it have to be you?

Kaito would immediately get angry trying to get an answer out of everyone through yelling and hitting things but no one would answer him.

It wouldn't be until the class trial when that same question comes to bite him in the ass.

As soon as Shuichi pinpoints a murderer Kaito finds himself in shock and soon even more anger as they immediately begin to mock him, telling him how much you screamed for him to save you. How even as you died you continued to utter over and over that he'd be there to protect you even when he wasn't.

Kaito knows he can't beat them up but he definitely would scream his head off even as the voting is taking place.

He wouldn't watch the execution but he wouldn't be himself for a long time after that trial. He'd always blame himself for not being there, for not being your knight in shining armor.

Kiibo

Kiibo was always extremely worried when that terrible announcement would sound.

It was terrifying whether you were a robot or human and all he really wanted to do was to see you.

It'd help him calm down he thought but he couldn't have been more wrong.

He made his way to the pool but he'd never expect to see you floating lifelessly in it.

He didn't care how you died or who did it at the moment. What he wanted to know was why someone would dump you into the pool like that why they'd have to add insult to injury.

He'd be trying so hard to seem helpful the entire investigation but at times he'd need a moment.

He just couldn't fathom how this could happen. Why did he let it happen? Why wasn't he there for you?

He thought that'd be the worst of it. That'd they be able to vote your murderer the blackened and be done with it but when the murderer started mocking you and him he didn't know how to respond.

He knew he should've been there and that you'd probably tried to attract his attention somehow but he just couldn't react much.

Kiibo would stop functioning and even as the blackened would be executed would not move from his spot. All he was capable of doing was thinking about you when you were alive and how much he missed you.

Shuichi

Shuichi never had much confidence but with you by his side, he always felt so much stronger.

He wasn't looking forward to dealing with another murder when that sickening Announcement played but he was still ready to use his talents to help none the less.

He felt determined to take on this case but when he opened the door to your research lab and saw the same things you used for your talent being the cause of your death he just froze.

This couldn't be real he thought.

This was just a bad dream and he'd wake up and see you in the dining hall with everyone else.

He wanted to believe that and at the same time knew he was lying to himself.

He'd force himself to work twice as diligently as normal in order to expose your killer.

He needed to for your sake and his own peace of mind but when he cornered the killer with all his evidence he wasn't ready for what his ears heard next.

He didn't want to know that you called out for him, that you cried and begged, he didn't want to hear any of it.

He'd continue to work against them but as he did plenty of tears would make their way down his cheeks.

He would make sure to get them voted the blackened but he wouldn't watch them in their execution.

He made peace by focusing only on honoring your memory. He wasn't out for blood, he was out for your approval even if he could no longer hear it.

[atlantisresource]

Atlantis Injuries List

Here is a repost of both the S1 and S2 lists.  Tumblr removed the originals because “there might be adult content.”  It’s a family show, quit deleting all the fandom resources!!  Anyway, I apologize if anything got accidentally missed while putting this back together.  Feel free to poke me.

LONG POST!!! (we’re looking at you, Jason, sheesh)

Injuries - Season One 

Ariadne:

1x01: hit in the face

1x05: drugged unconscious

Medusa:

1x02: sliced hand (to save Hercules)

1x06: possibly enchanted by the song of the sirens when Hercules attempted to put her under a love spell (since it was actually a trap, we don't know that it worked - Medusa's feelings may have been her own - but Hercules is still an arsehole)

1x06: cursed by Circe (Hercules' fault)

1x09: cursed by opening Pandora's box (also Hercules' fault)

Pythagoras:

1x01: fell and hit his head

1x06: clawed on arm

1x09: fell from balcony, then knocked out (long enough for a fire to spread through the house, be put out, and then for Jason and Hercules to be declared dead and hauled away)

1x09: sliced hand (he needed blood to wake Jason and Hercules)

1x12: drugged unconscious

1x12: drugged to sleep (again)

Hercules:

1x02: hand bitten

1x06: shoulder injured while wrestling (it looks like there's a cut when Pythagoras is tending to him, but there's clearly no cut directly after the fight - Pythagoras is also doctoring the opposite shoulder)

1x06: turned into a pig by Circe

1x08: injured back due to being thrown against a rock wall

1x09: knocked unconscious

1x09: knocked unconscious again

1x09: drank poison that "will slow your heart until only the faintest traces of life remain“ in order to enter Hades (you threaten a man’s life to get information, he gives you a vial of poison while going “yes, here’s how you get to Hades” and refers to you and Jason as “the bodies” - and you actually drink it?!  WTF is wrong with you?!)  

1x09: whacked and tossed against a rock wall (but I don’t know if this counts, because he wasn’t physically there)

1x09: smoke inhalation

1x09: buried (I’m calling this an injury because who knows how long he was without oxygen)

1x12: drugged to sleep

Jason:

"stabbed through the arm there in the third week" - this is actually Jack’s scar, gotten during filming

1x01: woke up on the beach (meaning passed out while in the water)

1x01: shot with arrow (caused the scar on Jason’s upper, left arm in every episode)

1x02: struck on back of head/neck, momentarily dazed

1x03: voodoo-dolled by Pasiphae

1x06: magically burned by Circe

1x07: kneed in the stomach by Hercules (might have gotten the crotch a bit also)

1x07: tossed around by Hercules and Pythagoras to train him for the Pankration

1x07: kneed in stomach again and separated shoulder

1x07: separated shoulder fixed by Hercules

1x07: “feverish”

1x07: smacked around in the arena, injured shoulder was targeted

1x07: smacked around in the arena again - Heptarian went for his injured shoulder also and added yet another blow to the stomach, then went for the other shoulder and punched him in the face

1x08: punched in the face

1x09: drank poison that "will slow your heart until only the faintest traces of life remain“ in order to enter Hades (you threaten a man’s life to get information, he gives you a vial of poison while going “yes, here’s how you get to Hades” and refers to you and Hercules as “the bodies” - and you actually drink it?!  WTF is wrong with you?!) 

1x09: smoke inhalation

1x09: buried (I’m calling this an injury because who knows how long he was without oxygen)

1x10: axe, sword, or knife wound (knife assumed, although there was no blood on it, but Jason definitely stabbed somebody with it, so the lack of blood means nothing) - healed by Atalanta

1x11: cursed into being a Kynikoi (oh, who are we kidding, I’m just gonna say it: werewolf)

1x11: knocked out

1x11: bitten and tossed against a wall

1x11: drank silver to cure the curse

1x12: arrow again (the amount of blood on the arrow goes from rather serious to “OMG, how is he not dead?!” between shots)

1x12: grazed by spear (even though it looks like it misses him by a good couple inches - serious enough to require bandaging)

1x13: scratched arm (bonus points for continuity since this must be the wound from the previous episode, however I’m taking those points away again because this is clearly not the same mark)

1x13: knocked unconscious by blow to the head

Injuries - Season Two

Pythagoras:

Seems to have managed a full season streak (see post: somebody explain this).  However, if we counted emotional pain, all the acting awards to Robert Emms, because damn.

Medusa:

2x09: cursed again

2x09: fuck it, I refuse - nothing else happened to Medusa; she went to live on a farm in the country with lots of space to run around and other Gorgons to play with

Medea:

2x04: fell down a cliff with a rock-slide (knocked out for a bit, but basically just walked it off)

2x06: knocked out, wrist cut

2x12: grabbed by throat, possibly choked a bit

Ariadne:

2x05: fell and got a cut on her arm

2x05: stabbed by Medea (we learn in 2x06 that the blade was enchanted)

2x06: knife wound from previous episode still bleeding

2x07: hand sliced

2x09: held prisoner by Pasiphae and tortured by Medea (using magic and a voodoo doll)

Hercules:

2x02: punched by Cyclops and smacks into stone wall

2x02: injured arm during the battle

2x06: clawed by a frickin' pterodactyl (after being bit by a mosquito)

2x08: hit in back of head by jug then sword hilt (unknown if he was knocked out by the second blow - the first was part of a staged fight, although unplanned)

2x09: drugged to sleep

2x10: punched by Jason

2x10: sliced with sword by Jason (wound was tended to by Pythagoras)

2x12: cut when Pasiphae’s men attacked the temple (this is the only time I’ve ever seen an “it’s nothing” that was never mentioned again - I thought “it’s nothing” in tv land was code for “I’m going to collapse in the next scene”)

Pasiphae:

2x04: shot with an arrow by Ariadne (being able to just yank those suckers out must run in the family)

2x06: strangled with a chain

2x12: poisoned with the nectar of the passion flower to neutralize her powers

2x12: sliced hand

2x12: knocked out from blow to the head - and stays out a long enough to carry her to the camp

2x12: forced to drink more poison

2x12: stabbed to death

2x12: dropped (this happened while she was dead, but a fall like that had to do some damage)

2x12: most likely got burned while being brought back to life (injured while being healed, what irony)

Jason:

2x01: seizure (from drinking the Oracle’s vision-inducing kool-aid)

2x01: yet another arrow (I hate to break it to you, Jason, but with the amount of blood on that arrow, you are dead)

2x02: "You fainted; the fall reopened your wound." (and he was out long enough for them to drag him from the river into the forest and make a fire)

2x03: sliced with spear

2x04: not certain if a sword got him or he was just smacked around with shields (but Ariadne felt the need to tend to his wound - and I might have to give huge continuity points to the writers here if this mystery injury is actually a shield hit to his spear wound from last episode)

2x04: fell down a cliff with a rock-slide (knocked out for a bit, but basically just walked it off)

2x05: broken leg (wait, you were unscathed in the epic cliff fall, but being knocked down broke your leg?!) - healed by Medea

2x06: knocked out

2x07: hand sliced (they say “blood sacrifice” and you’re all “okay sure” ... is there anything you don’t just go along with anymore, Jason?) 

2x07: knocked out (by men sent by Pasiphae in an elaborate scheme to kidnap the Oracle, get Medusa to kill her, frame Jason, and cause Jason to be sentenced to death with the help of Melas who’s only a traitor because they’ve also kidnapped Cassandra -- good thing they decided to stick with that plan instead of just killing him while he was unconscious on the floor - seriously, do none of the bad guys ever hit people with the other end of their swords?  YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO USE THE POINTY END, GUYS!)

2x07: hit in the face

2x08: this is the only ep in season 2 that he makes it through uninjured - however, I thought it worthy of note that he’s imprisoned and sentenced to be slowly burned to death as a traitor, so it's not like his luck has changed

2x09: heart blackened by learning the truth about Pasiphae being his mother - I’m not sure how this works, but it does seem to have been mind-altering, so it goes on the list (although frankly I’m calling it good old regular trauma from slicing off the head of a dear friend... in order to kill his own mother - I mean damn, that would fuck anybody up)

2x10: stabbed with sword (magically healed, at least partially, by Medea)

2x11: wound from previous episode is still bleeding (so it wasn’t fully healed by Medea’s magic)

2x11: presumably beaten up by Pasiphae’s men when captured, has multiple cuts

2x11: sliced in the arena 

2x11: sand tossed in his eyes in the arena

2x11: kicked around in the arena

(my personal opinion is this is self-harm with a bit of a death-wish after killing Medusa - it seems he let himself be captured and he doesn’t really fight back until it’s Diocles’ life at risk)

2x11: drank poison in order to appear dead (dammit, Jason, what is this, the forth time you’ve trustingly gulped down poison?)

2x11: shoved and smacks into a rock

2x12: whacked with a sword hilt (they never did learn to use the pointy end)

[ungoliantschilde]

The willingness to fight thing is definitely an “edge” for Blade.

But... Hellboy is still fundamentally out of Blade’s league. It’s John Wick versus Thor.

Blade has repeatedly lost to Dracula because for all of Blade’s fighting prowess, he’s basically just very fast and very strong. He has none of the abilities that go with being a fully mature vampire like Dracula. Mind control, spell casting, communication with animals, etc.

Blade is a guy using swords and pointy sticks to fight one of the most powerful villains in Marvel comics. I give him credit for trying, but the most Blade has ever been able to accomplish has been to briefly stall Dracula’s conquest plans. Every time they fight head to head, Dracula finds it amusing. Blade thinks their every confrontation will be their last, and every fight ends with Dracula laughing at Blade. Dracula is out of Blade’s league to defeat on his own.

Hellboy, however, has beaten things older and far more powerful than Dracula, and he did it without really using his powers. Hellboy just punches stuff with his hand and Fist fights his way through defeating every villainous magic being that has ever existed. Including vampires.

You make a convincing argument, but I would have to refer you to my initial response, where I talked about Hellboy fighting Kronen. Kronen was faster, more agile, and a much better fighter. Hellboy dropped a clock gear on that creep all the same. And then, Hellboy went and blew up one of the elder gods. All while rejecting Rasputin’s commands to use his full power and become the lord of Hell on Earth.

And lastly, Hellboy fights bad guys because as a kid on a secret airforce base - his Dad, Professor Broom made Hellboy a stack of pancakes for breakfast. As soon as Hellboy ate the pancakes, he was sold on saving the Earth from bad guys. No, seriously. Pancakes are part of Hellboy’s origin.

Hellboy vs Blade?

Blade

Hellboy is a terrible fighter. Even he’d admit this. He’s also awful with a gun that’s why he has a hand cannon that doesn’t take much aiming.

Blade is faster and a far superior fighter. He’d fuck Hellboy up.

[slothcritic]

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - Episode 2 Review

Now with an intro! This episode answers questions left over from Episode 1 and leaves you curious for what happens next.

The Main Character feels the sword calling to her and leaves Catra behind at the danger zone while she goes to check it out. She happens upon it at the same time the goof troop of Wonder Boy and Miss Poofs-A-Lot magics their way into the forest, and both parties decide, yoink, my sword now.

A note from the first episode I wanted to include was that the spooky woods reminded me of Harry Potter. Though I found the claim of “no squad has ever made it out there!!” falls a little flat when three under-prepared children can just wander through it like it’s no big deal. I mean, okay, maybe a little deal. Maybe having your rank-and-file blonde soldier girl undergo a magical girl transformation to become an ancient Aryan goddess helps your chances of survival. Because seriously, am I the only one who noticed the blue eyes and blonde hair right away? Ubermensch, more like uberwomensch. 

The dialogue choices in the initial scuffle and rivalry between Big Pink and Tall, Blonde and Built make me angry. Perhaps that’s intentional. These people do not like each other in the slightest and are not in a hurry to change that. But because they’re in the spooky death forest, the setting necessitates some reluctant teamwork, which I actually think is a pretty cool and organic plot device. However, the match-up of Bob and Larry over here would be insufferable without the male archer being the only non-hysterical voice of reason.

Throughout the episode we see a slow evolution of character from almost everyone, which is terrific to see from a storytelling perspective. Everyone here feels like an actual person. And to be honest, I didn’t see “maybe we’re the bad guys” coming from a mile away, so I got to enjoy that dawning realization in the same shoes as Captain Miss America. She’d grown up being fed lies and propaganda and had genuinely believed she was doing the right thing working with the folks at the danger zone. It’s also mentioned that she was an orphan and they took her in and raised her from childhood. Shot in the dark, they destroyed her hometown and killed her family and claimed she had always been an orphan. Wouldn’t surprise me.

Meanwhile, Pretty Pink Princess has seen first hand what the literal “evil horde” has done to her people, and the complete disparity of perspective becomes increasingly narrower until Our Hero is struck by the revelation - Oh shit, we’re the bad guys.

Catra however seems to have a different perspective. Miss Pointy Shoulders was her best friend and now she’s gone rogue. Given how much they seem to like each other and how badly Catra misses her and wants her back, it seems entirely arbitrary for her to just stick with the bad guys instead of teaming up with her. I guess the plot just demanded a rival with a good backstory and motivation.

The in-universe justification for this, or however much of an asspull I can deduce, is that Catra eventually wants to take control of the entire faction with the help of Princess Charming. Then they can do whatever they like together. But Our Hero had a sudden awakening and a change of heart, and Catra does not seem to match her level of benevolence. Though if you don’t take my word for it, pretty much her first reaction to being told “hey we’re killing innocent people maybe we should stop” is to taser the crazy out of her best friend.

Nightstalker isn’t happy with Goldilocks defecting but feeling angry probably isn’t a huge change of pace for them.

Conclusion

Better! This episode offers more depth to the story and the characters. The reluctance and about-face from Dora The Teleporter regarding Evil Agent Who’s Actually The Good Girl feels earned and justified by their journey. 

This definitely feels like an Episode 1 Part 2 episode... which is a weird thing to say about “Episode 2″ I know, but it feels more like this episode finishes and wraps up on what Episode 1 left unresolved and just hanging by the cliff.

EDIT: Okay, after looking for a picture to use for this review, it turns out that Episode 2 IS IN FACT A PART 2 of Episode 1. Good to know.

Score: 70

Passing Thoughts

“You’re literally called the evil horde” “Who calls us that?!”

I like the fantasy element of the various non-human or hybrid races. It’s not really addressed in any way and I don’t think it needs to be. Just seems kind of cool and unique, and you’re not being beaten over the head with it.