#happy wet beast wednesday by the way everyone

[thatweirduncle]

i can't post my unhinged, hyperbolic thoughts in the youtube comments like i can in the tags here, and that's why i like to call this hellsite home god bless 🙏

[samdragons-official-art]

I made this all the way back in November, then immediately forgot to share it. Anyways

Happy wet beast Wednesday everyone

Based off goop bat fic and au by @yewsoup

[balletwatchespokemon]

Indigo League Episode 12

This episode we get the last of the Kanto starters, Squirtle! The gang encounters the troublesome Squirtle Squad, Ash and Pikachu both have their life endangered in different ways, and Team Rocket attempted to kill the whole Squad with literal bombs. Yikes.

Say you regularly encounter pit falls like these three do and one of you puts your foot through the ground like Ash has here, would you (a. be careful of the likely pitfall, or (b. crowd in as close as possible?

If you answered (b. you were right and you're also stuck in a hole now.

The Squirtle Squad! Hmmm, I wonder who's the leader. (This is such a cute shot.)

If I recall correctly we actually will be going to their habitat later in the Indigo League so good job setting it up ahead of time show!

Officer Jenny of course Ash knows your name, you share it with every other officer Jenny. If he knows the name of one he knows them all.

This police station has a matching symbol to the one on Jenny's hat. I went back to the other station we've seen so far (in E2) and that one didn't match that Jenny's hat symbol, I wonder if it's something they decided to start doing partway into the show or if them matching this time is a coincidence. We'll just have to wait and see.

Pikachu looks so sad here! Ash, give him a hug. (Pikachu is very cute while sad though.)

I love it when anime does something like this where it's just the facial features visible. (Though just Pikachu's eyes and mouth by themselves are a little scary looking.)

Look at these sopping wet beasts. Someone get them a towel.

Silly Pikachu, this is Pokemon not Mario Cart, why are you getting taken out by a red shell?

And now we're doing Jaws, love to spot a reference for a movie I've never seen.

Love to see Ash being a violent feral child but I personally would not enjoy the mouth full of fur from biting a cat tail. And this is the most valid reason for Meowth to scratch Ash in the face so far.

Squirtle Squad how could you say no to a cute little face like this.

Squirtle Squad just casually threatening to kill Misty. Very normal thing to do.

The Pokeani world has so many rickety rotten rope bridges. I wonder how many people die to them per year.

A Pokemon shop! The western town vibe is interesting, though I am suspicious of that beef sign. We're still in the period of time where they still had regular animals in the Pokemon world.

Love Gary just showing up in this episode to knock Ash out, not even notice what he did, and leave.

Also, Ash was unconscious overnight, I'm pretty sure it's really bad if you're unconscious for that long. He should go to the hospital and get checked out.

Ah early Pokemon, where anyone and everyone can have a gun at any given moment.

Ash is so concerned about Squirtle! I love how much he loves just all Pokemon.

And his actions proved he's a good guy to Squirtle! I really feel the bond better with Ash and Squirtle than the one for Ash and Charmander in the previous episode. I wonder if that has anything to do with how difficult Ash and Charmander's bond gets after he evolves.

Get yeeted idiots! Also, I love how Misty, Brock, and the other Squirtles are acting like they're gonna catch Ash and Squirtle but that's totally not happening.

Look how happy they are to have Squirtle join the team!

And that's the episode, Ash has a full team now and all of the starters! Next episode on Wednesday we see Ash catch another pokemon, and we encounter the OG oversized pokemon. (Way before gigantamaxing.)

[forabeatofadrum]

Well, that is kind of a lie. Happy Wet Beast Wednesday everyone, thank you @shrekgogurt, @artsyunderstudy and @aroace-genderfluid-sheep for the tags and I do have something to show, namely a plant:

Girl (gender neutral), help! I shared this baby a few weeks ago when it was thriving and quickly after that, it stopped thriving. Now, this isn’t my first rodeo. This isn’t even the first time I posted about this plant possibly dying on this blog. So I once again have been trying to revive it, but to no avail. I don’t know what went wrong. I think it might be too much sun, cause the Netherlands got hit with a lot of hot days.

Like, yeah, I think the plant died. I picked it up and one branch even broke off and I am upsetti and I don’t know what to do.

In a weird twist of events, new leaves have been growing:

If there’s anyone with some plant knowledge, I would appreciate some tips. This is a myosotis alpestris and I planted it 4 months ago and I moved it to a bigger pot around 1.5 months ago.

No fic news, by the way. I am still stuck on Ljubim te and I even tried writing some other stuff, like my MCD (Matt Christopher David) fic, but I remembered why I got stuck on that one as well 🤡. Might fuck around and write some SJAEU.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @nausikaaa/@wellbelesbian @martsonmars @facewithoutheart @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog​ @whatevertheweather

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagging @clicheantagonist​​ @marivenah​​ @natesofrellis​​ @sstewyhosseini​​ @purplehairsecretlair​​​

Writing for Evelyn has been really fun so far and Datura is just having a time, putting the writing under the cut cause it got a weeee bit long

“Wha- ow!” They grimace when something pricks their neck. “Hey! What’d you just do!?”

Standing back up to her full height, the glow of the florescent lights shine down behind her, making her hat cast an eerie shadow across her face and shrouding her features. “I injected you with DMB*.”

“WHAT! Are you tryin’ to kill me!?”

“Relax, it’s only enough to make you sleep. It should be working in three, two- aaand they’re out.” Tucking any stray appendages into the car, she shuts the back door and gets behind the wheel. Blowing out a long sigh and sinking down into the plush leather of her seat, she peers up at the stars in the sky, looking at the moon out of pure habit. Half full, nothing to be worried about yet.

Closing the door, she connects her phone with the device in her car and selects a contact, putting the car into gear and driving off once it starts to ring.

Ring… Ring… Ri- “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Evelyn! Well, I knew you were efficient, but to get the job done in-“

“Not why I’m calling.” She cuts her boss off before he could attempt to stroke her ego even more than he normally does. If he honestly crawled up her ass any further, she’d have to start charging him rent.

* Dead Man’s Blood (DMB) - A sedative for vampires that’s lethal in higher doses

~~~

“That was fucking rude! Who just shoots someone?”

Everyone collectively chimes in with Jason’s name, followed by variations of Red Hood, and it’s only once Dick walks in that everyone shuts up.

“What’s going on?”

“These two were in a fight, my bets on Hood.” Hank helpfully supplies, muttering, “What?”, when Dawn gives him a look.

“Why are you all wet?” The next question is directed at Jason himself, noting the abundance of water still dripping off him and onto the floor.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Jason points to Datura.

“Well?”

“For one, ‘her’ has a name and for two, I had to pee! Are you happy? I have human needs too, alright, and when I tried to walk out of the bathroom, Little Red Riding Hood here decided to harass me.”

“You were talking to someone.”

“I was talking to myself. That’s something people do?”

“You expect me to believe that shit after you and Slade just had your little spat?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything! And I don’t really care either way, because you. Don’t. Know. Me.” With every word, she steps closer to Jason—not realizing that they’d already been getting close—until their noses were practically touching.

“Are they gonna kiss?” Beast Boy mutters in the background, tossing more popcorn into his mouth.

“No!” The pair yell in unison, glaring at each other after.

[sparetimeimagines]

So I don’t know if anyone has requested this or not but I would love a yandere light x shy virgin Christian reader nsfw oneshot ? if you don’t feel comfortable with writing religion with  Christianity that’s okay can make a her a Kira worshipper instead ? that’s all have a good day :)

More | Light Yagami

tags; yandere, virgin!reader, smut, angst, fear, noncon

Masterlist

“Darling, where did you run off to?” His voice echos along the apartment, red lights confusing your eyes with total darkness.

A lost transaction, no one knew where you were.

But he did.

Pictures of you littered the lot. Hair up, hair down. Church dress, sports shorts with the sewer in bloomers. He had a variety to be smitten over.

Your heart beats wildly against your chest, the new reality setting in.

“Where am I? Who brought me here?” You whisper amongst yourself, the dark furniture placed strategically as a decoy, an object to get in your way.

“There you are.” The hands grab you from behind, tossing you on the ground.

Kicking and screaming, he’s avoiding that with his waist on your legs. You push away at him, scratching his arms as he laughs.

“Scream all you want, my Dear, this place is sound proof.”

Sound proof. Sound. Proof. He’s not even trying to silence you.

“Finally. Lovely voice by the way. Honest. Those years in the choir, fantastic.” He claps his hands together. “But now, let’s get acquainted shall we? I’m Kira, and you’re my Darling.”

Your lips begin moving silently with your eyes shut, a prayer.

“Pray to your God. Your God, ha! I am your God! You worship me now.” His face runs along your hair, pulling each lock into his face with a deep inhale. He shudders taking you in. “Talk to me, Precious, don’t be shy.” He smirks watching you from under his body. Wrists pinned with his palms, he soaks in the fear from your eyes.

Your eyes shoot open realizing he hasn’t stopped watching you.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” He pats your hair down, his hands slowly moving along your body, the lumps and curves on you, he takes his time.

“So firm. Yet so soft.” He grasps each mound, his fingers massaging them out of curiosity.

A quiet mule, is it fear or arousal, slips from your mouth.

The ends of his curl up, reaching for your nipple but stops. Instead, he looks into your eyes, the red hue casted by the light heightening his senses but dimming yours.

“So sweet. Watching me... you want me to touch you, don’t you?”

His perfectly straight teeth glow with the light. His fingers travel south to your navel, he lifting the soft cotton fabric of your dress over your hips, falling just below your ribs.

“Your skin... it’s so soft... and this fear in your eyes, you’re ravishing.”

He inhales deeply, the fear making him hard through his slacks. He pets your arms, smooth skin connecting at your core as you’re paralyzed in fear.

He kisses your stomach, fluttering around your pure coat without a scar in place.

“Hmmmph. Oh my. My my my. What do we have here?” He purrs in delight, letting his finger hover over you. His fingers traced your structure, when finally he comes in contact with a soft pink bow attached to your panty line.

“You’re drenched, Dear. Practically soaking yourself and I haven’t even touched you yet.” His head dips to your clothed core, taking in your smell, your scent. “I’m salivating.”

His eyes watch yours, he watching how they grow in fear as he admires your body.

“Sweet church girls, you’re always so fun. With your pretty dresses and pure pink panties... the littlest things excite you.”

The wet spot on your slit slowly grows and he smirks. He actually smirks.

A hard swallow and he’s sitting up between your legs.

“Nobody’s touched you before have they?” He inhales your scent, tracing your legs down to your feet, with his lips trailing your ankle.

“So pure, sweet perfection, you’re exactly what I wanted.”

Your ankle in his lips, he gets the perfect few of your drenched, untouched kitty.

A deep inhale through his teeth, he recovers your face, his lips trailing your cheek, when he finally reaches your lips. He bites your lips, piercing you for your blood.

You finally let out a cry, peaking his arousal. His attention is stolen.

“Talk to me.” He moans, the touch of blood on his finger tip, smearing down your chin.

“Stop touching me.” You hiss with a stutter, an unusual combination merely heightening his senses.

“You’re just so cute.” He hums kissing you. “I don’t think I will ever stop.”

He pulls a knife from his pocket. “I want more.” He dissects your dress, the straps peeling off your shoulders. “More.” The less clothing supporting your innocence, the larger his smile, smirk, snarl grows across his lips.

“Intoxicating.” He smells your clothing, returning to your breast, those nipples he avoided earlier - he wants them between his teeth. He bares down with the sensitive bud pinching, a cry signaling him like the beast’s call. “Yes. More.” He takes your breast into his mouth whole, his needy fingers scavenging other noises, excited to discover new traits of you.

Your hand collides with his face stunning him to a halt.

“Did... did you just hit me? Did YOU just hit ME?” He cocks his head in your direction, his free hand tracing your neck. “How dare you?! I am your God! You worship me! Your body represents me! Your blood is mine!” He squeezes your neck, forcing the last bit of air from your lungs before his fingers trace your folds from the outside of your panties.

Feet flailing the best you can, it’s no use against him.

“Pretty. Little. Virgin.” He pets you, allowing you to breathe as a gift. You gasp against the ground, breasts swaying with each cycle. “You were made for me.” He whispers spreading your legs to help himself.

“Oh for you to see such a sight, Darling. You’re soiling yourself here. You keep yourself from me whilst silencing your tongue, and yet here you are body betraying you, soaked your panties to your skin. You’re begging me touch you.”

His eyes watch you closely in the red light, you following him like a map. Your throat being choked by your heart interrupting your thoughts.

This mental conflict.

This struggle you hold in your chest. You shouldn’t want this. You must behave -remain pure- and yet here you are spread for his desires.

His devilishly handsome looks should have been the first warning sign. There is no way anyone would be as handsome as he and still have wholesome motives.

“No one will ever love you as much as me, Darling.” He toys with your panty line. “Just let me adore you.”

Your body disobeys you, instead of closing, shutting him out, they move with him, hungry for his touch.

“Good girl, Darling.” He hums, smelling your scent once more. “Show me what’s mine.” He stares you down, waiting for a reaction. “Unwrap my present.”

He followed you home. It was a quiet Wednesday, the weather a perfect sixty-eight degrees. A perfect afternoon to walk home for the both of you. Except, you never went home, well from your perspective... however for Light, you were home. You were exactly where you needed to be, and he was never going to let you leave. All you needed was right here; and all you needed was Light.

Your fingers tremble from your sides.

You knew better than to run.

He would just catch you, like he had earlier.

“Go on.” He pats your leg, gesturing for his prize to be revealed.

Your fingers dipped into your thin fabric, letting it expose you inch by inch, past your knees until finally they’re off in your fingers.

“Now give them to me.”

Your hand shakes as you slowly hand them to Light, unsure of what he’ll do with them.

“Your smell... this fear and what’s this... desire? Do I smell you wanting me? Does my Darling desire me? Do you want me to touch you? Because these folds, your precious pretty pussy is begging for my attention. You’re adoring this, aren’t you?”

You’re confused by your body’s betrayal. How can you be aroused by such a character? A psychopath? A handsome sociopath.

“Darling. You belong to me. I’ll take care of you and you’ll be so perfect.”

“I-I want to go home.”

“Why would you want to go home? No one is there. No one is looking for you. No one will love you there as much as I love you here.” The back of his hand caresses you tenderly. “You’ll stay here.”

His eyes shoot up as you whilst the warmth of his fingers radiates around your virgin cunt.

Untouched property. Unclaimed land. You are his undiscovered treasure, and yes, he will hide you from everyone.

“Just let me show you how good it feels to be loved.” He pets your outer folds. “See, your soft skin against my skin. This is nice.” He strokes you multiple times, your heats dripping with arousal.

“Darling darling, you’re making a mess.” He leans down into your sobbing cunt, letting his tongue feel your sensitive folds.

You twitch below his touch, your body rising with his touch and a sharp breath is forced from your lungs.

“Mmm you love this. Look at how you purr. You’re body adores this.” He hums against your clit.

Your palms sweat at your sides. How are you supposed to react? This isn’t natural right? You’re not supposed to be this aroused?

His tongue traced up and down your slit, slurping your excessive slick dressing his face.

“My goodness.” He moans. “I haven’t done anything yet.” His tongue circles to your clit, forcing your hips to involuntarily gravity into his face once more, you hands grasping his hair for the first time. “Oh my Darling. Yes, touch me.”

He laps you, which feels like an eternity, feeling your body in new ways. Sensations you’ve never felt. You feel guilty, but the pleasure is overpowering your senses. The fire in your chest, your core, deep in the pit of your stomach, it’s burning and you want more.

“Do you want more Darling? I know you want to make me happy.” He look up from you, slick over his lips as he licks them.

You head keeps telling you no. You shouldn’t. You should wait. This isn’t pure.

But it feels so good. You want more. You want more!

You arch your hips against him and he chuckles.

“Tell me Darling. I need to hear how your body belongs to me.” He traces your slick around the entices but eyes you. “Tell me. Use your words, so I can worship your body.”

Is this right?

“I- I...” you fight yourself feeling him below. “Want more.” You moan with panted breaths and he allows himself between your tight folds.

“Oh my Goodness.” He inserts a single finger. “You’re so tight, Darling.”

Your breath is caught in your chest and you stare at the ceiling. His pressure... a good kind of pressure, you think. Your body acts so involuntary with his.

Legs spread, feeling him shift his fingers into your tight hole, a burning sensation building from within.

“You’re so pure. Letting me destroy you’re pure essence... tainting you for my existence... my my my.” He kisses your clit, the sensations mixing a concoction for your eyes to roll backwards into your head.

“Darling... you’ll only stay pure if you stay with me. You’ll only be good if you stay with me. You will only be here for me. You’ll only exist for me.” He pumps his finger inside your tight walls, the flesh kissing his skin with your slick. “Do you understand?”

He stops to watch you, a whimper leaving your mouth and he chuckles. “You will never leave this house. You will only exist for me.”

He eyes you, the red light intensifying the moment as he fucks you with his finger, on the floor, setting the rules you will obey. He’s not asking for your agreement.

No.

He’s telling you how it’s going to be.

You nod and he shoves another finger into your tight hole, too much for you to handle.

“Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Kira.”

You moan from the burn. Too much going on for you. The overstimulation of your cunt. The stretch of your walls inviting a new sensation.

“Perfect, because we’ll need plenty of time to get you ready for me.”

[rest-upon-the-morning-light]

JonMartin fic

So I’m trying to get back into fic writing, especially for TMA, and have a multi chapter fic planned but wanted to start with a smaller one shot style fic to warm up. It’s been an age since I’ve written anything, much less something that wasn’t just reader based or smut lmao. I’ve added trigger warnings but if I missed any do let me know! 

Any feedback would be great and if you like this, please send me prompts! Happy to write anything from fluff to smut, just as long as its TMA based :D 

So! Here is my cute fluff JonMartin fic! Enjoy~ 

Everybody Wants To Be A Cat 

Word Count: 2240 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Animal Abuse, but nothing to graphic. Anxiety. Self Worth Issues. Season 1 Jon being Season 1 Jon. Season 1 Martin being Season 1 Martin.

Fandom: The Magnus Archive

Pairings: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood 

Summary: Martin was certain of two things. One, he had an enormous crush on his boss. Two, his boss hated him. Who knew a one eyed beast of an alley cat would bring them closer?

Martin Blackwood has two problems.

Problem number one. He was absolutely certain he was more than a little bit in love with his boss.

Problem number two. His was absolutely certain said boss hated him.

 Well, hated was probably a strong word. Hated implied that Jon thought of him at all, and it was far more likely that Jon thought of him very little throughout his day. Except, of course, when Martin did something wrong. Then those piercing eyes of his would be solely fixed on him whilst he shouted about how inept Martin was or how stupid his mistake had been.

It hurt, those moments. It hurt that the only time Jon ever truly seemed to see Martin was when he was angry at him. Not when Martin did an amazing follow up on a statement. Not when he’d created a great rapport with a statement giver or their family. Not when he brought Jon tea. Just when he did something wrong.

It was a running theme in this annoyance Martin called his life.

He still couldn’t help these feelings though. Jon was an arse half the time that much was true. It infuriated Tim to know end when Jon would lash out at Martin. “He has no right Martin. Mistake or not he’s your boss, he’s supposed to help you, not act like a massive dick all the time”

It was harder for Tim and Sasha in a way. They’d been Jon’s equal for a long time, working together. Moving to the Archive was always going to be a bit of a challenge. To have friend become boss. Especially for Sasha, who everyone thought was going to be become Head Archivist. But neither had held any real resentment over Jon for the change. After all, it wasn’t his choice, it was Elias’s.

But Jon’s sudden shift from rude but mostly recluse and occasionally friendly colleague to rude very recluse and stick constantly up arse boss was harder than any of them expected.

Martin could understand. It was big position and Jon seemed like the type to take everything he did very seriously. This meant holding everything in the archive to a high standard. His assistance included.

So yes, Jon was awful to him a lot of the time. But he was passionate. He cared. For all his blustering that none of this was real, Martin could see how much he empathised with the people who had given those statements. How he looked like he’d personally failed them when a follow up revealed they had died not longer after they’d come to visit the institute.

His crush probably wasn’t the most healthy but sue him! He liked being a bit in love. He liked having inspiration for his poetry. He enjoyed the fluttery feeling in his stomach when he came into work.

He just wished Jon didn’t quite hate. No. Didn’t quite dislike him so much.

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

There is a cat that has been hiding the alleyway behind the Institute for several days now.

Martin noticed the poor thing when he’d been taking out some rubbish that accumulated in the Archive. Usually that sort of thing wasn’t his job, but he’d been done for the day anyway and he liked to be useful, even if no one really noticed.

It was a mangy young thing. Light brown fur matted, one eye seemed to be damaged and it hissed every time Martin so much as approached it.

He couldn’t just leave it though. Poor thing needed help. It was out here, lonely, forgotten, damaged by the people that probably at one point said they’d love and protect it.

Was he projecting onto a stray cat now? God this was a new level of sad.

So he did what someone in his position did best. He researched.

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

There is a surprising number of places to buy cat supplies near the Institute and the workers in the shop were incredibly helpful with his questions.

Approach slowly. Don’t try to touch or hold the cat. Leave out food and water. He’d also bought a small plastic hut and shoved a warm blanket inside for the large cat. He didn’t know what breed it was. Just that it was grumpy and hurt.

It didn’t take a great deal away from his own funds either. His job paid well enough and he didn’t exactly go out with people very often, buying expensive drinks or tickets to shows.

His special treat was usually some sugar drenched coffee.

He couldn’t see any physical injuries on the cat, apart from its eye, so he put some treats in the hut, left out the food and water, then left.

He came back everyday with more supplies to keep the large growling cat comfortable. Every day that passed the cat came a little bit closer to him. He grinned at that. Hoping one day it would come close enough to pet.

He’d read somewhere that when cats blink, once and slow, it was a sign that they trusted you. Martin waited for that day with bated breath.

Tim and Sasha were a little bit suspicious as to where he was going on his lunch breaks. He told them he just taking a long walk, getting some fresh air away from the dusty old archives but he knew it wasn’t the best lie.

Lying for the sake of his job was one thing. Lying to his friends for no good reason was another.

It wasn’t like he doing anything bad. It was more that he wanted this for himself. He wasn’t even too sure why. Part of him wondered if he was worried the cat would somehow take some natural liking to either one of them or both. He didn’t want to lose all his hard work.

Or, if he was being more honest with himself, he didn’t want the cat to abandon him for someone better.

Yeah. New level of pathetic had been reached.

But one lunch, a few weeks after he’d first spotted the broken but massive feline, that the lying and the ill feeling became absolutely worth it.

Because the cat approached him.

Martin didn’t move a single muscle. He was sat on a small wooden box in the alley. Far enough away as to not frighten the poor thing, but close enough that the cat could make contact if it wanted to.

And today it did.

He held his breath the closer it got, keeping eye contact with its good eye the whole time. It paused for a moment, right in the front of his bent legs, before it let out a small mirp noise and butted its head against his knee.

“Oh hello” Martin laughed, chest feeling lighter than it had in an exceptionally long time.

He reached out his hand slowly to pet its head and let out another sign of relief when the one eyed cat let him.

“Well” he began

“I can’t very well keep calling you cat or beast in my head, you’ll need a name”.

It didn’t acknowledge his words in any way, just continued to let him scratch behind its ears and watched him with its one working eye. He could almost imagine its thoughts.

“Silly Martin, just come up with one already. Stop wasting time”.

He let out a soft chuckle at the thought, a name ready on his lips.

“Jon” he smiled gently.

“I think I’ll call you Jon”.

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

 It went well after that. Martin made plans to keep the cat. It would help the dreariness of his lonely flat, and he was lucky his landlord allowed pets in his building.

He couldn’t afford proper insurance but the workers at the pet shop knew an emergency vet that wasn’t too expensive, so he could get Cat Jon’s eye checked out soon.

Giddy as he was with his newfound friend, he didn’t realise that he’d been less subtle than usual about where he was going on his break.

It was one grey, wet Wednesday that it all came to ahead.

He’d been sitting crossed legged on the ground, his coat below him as a sort of makeshift blanket to keep his trousers dry, when Human Jon found them.

He hadn’t even noticed Jon had followed him until the backdoor that led the alley burst open with a bang that echoed down the narrow way.

“Martin” shouted Jon, looking at some papers in his hand.

“I need you to take your lunch late and follow up on this report. You made several errors in your research that, frankly, a child could spot. I don’t know what you’re doing out here but if you have time to sit around then –“

Jon’s rant was cut short as he finally looked up to the picture that greeted him.

Cat Jon had leaped into his arms from the loud noise, clinging to Martin’s bright yellow sweater.

Martin froze, cat in arms as Jon stared at him with a look of equal shock.

“Oh” began Jon softly

“Sorry” Martin practically shouted.

“I – eh – this is, well um, a cat, I found? A few weeks ago, actually. I’ve been sort of taking care of it? Getting it food and water and um” he gestured to the plastic hut and blanket he’d laid out.

“He was hurt you see. Only one eye and really badly taken care of. Abandoned, I recon. So I’ve been out here on lunches making sure he’s, um, that he’s okay? Is that..is that alright?” he trailed off nervously.

He couldn’t look at Jon. It wasn’t exactly something to be ashamed of, taking care of a stray cat. But he could imagine Jon being the sort of serious no nonsense person who would see it as a waste of time, his lunch break or not. God would this make his relationship worse? Would Jon scold him for it? Did it make him seem more pathetic than before? Christ, was that even possible?

He didn’t notice the movement until Jon was sat beside him on the floor.

Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, sat on a dirty alley floor with Martin K Blackwood.

He watched with bated breath as Human Jon reached his hand out to Cat Jon and let out a small sound of relief when Cat Jon didn’t bite, scratch or run away.

“You poor thing” murmured Jon, eyes only on his (unknowing) cat counterpart.

“What have they done to you? Well, you look better now than you probably did before. Thank to our Martin here”.

Martin couldn’t help but blush deeply at that. Hot all over his face. He couldn’t handle this. Jon being all, all soft and gentle and calling him “our” Martin.

“You’ve been taking care of him then?” Jon looked up at Martin now. Eyes soft and kind for once. It nearly took all of Martins brain power to respond after receiving such a look.

“Yes” he began.

“Like I said, I found him a few weeks ago. Planning on taking him back to mine soon, get him out of the cold properly”.

Jon nodded, eyes never leaving Martins, hand firmly petting the cat in Martins arms.

“I’m sorry, about the work” Martin nervously bit his lip.

“I’ve been really worried about him so I rushed it to get out here on time. It’s no excuse and I know you don’t exactly think highly of my work in the first place. I’ll make sure I stay late tonight so I can catch up”

“Martin” interrupted Jon, eye straying on the bitten lip, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t been fair to you these past few months. It’s been unprofessional at best and, well, and downright cruel at worst”

“Your job is stressful” Martin tried to defend

“And we both know I’m not exactly at the same standard at the others”

“Still” Jon continued.

“It’s my job to help you, not, berate you at every mistake. You came from the library, not research, so you have different skill set and – well, its been hard for us all. Not fair of me to put all that blame on you. God knows Tim could stand to be a bit more professional at times” Jon grumbled out the last part, a small pout to his lips.

Martin laughed at that, smiling wider than he could last remember.

“Tim just likes to keep you human, I think” he winked and watched with fascination as the flush came back to Jon’s dark cheeks.

Cat Jon leap out of his arms after that, toddling off to who knows where.

“Well” Martin began, getting up from his cross legged position on the floor.

“We still have time for lunch, we could, um, maybe eat together? If that’s okay I mean! You could help me figure out a name for him?” “You don’t have one already?” replied Jon, surprise in his voice “Uhhh not any suitable ones, no” Martin laughed awkwardly.

He couldn’t exactly say he’d name the poor blighter after Jon. He doubted Jon would take it as a compliment and he didn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’d stumbled onto.

He held out his hand to help Jon off the floor. Jon eyed it, before bringing his own hand up and placing it into Martins larger ones. Martin pulled him up and held back a small gasp as Jon shot forward quicker than intended, his smaller hand landing on Martin chest.

Jon looked up at him, a small shy smile gracing his lips.

“Beautiful” Martin couldn’t help but think, face and ears bright red.

Jon pulled back, coughing every so slightly into his fist.

“Yes, well, I’ve named a cat or two in my time, it won’t be too hard” “Oh?” teased Martin

“What about Magnus? We did find him here” Jon shook his head at that, crinkling his nose slightly.

“Absolutely not, something more dignified. The Captain maybe?” “Captain?” countered Martin

“The Captain” continued Jon as they began to head back inside

“I suppose the one eye does give him a bit of a pirate look” Martin couldn’t help by laugh slightly as he said it.

“Yes” Jon laughed back

“Dignified but still fitting his nature” And off they went, back into the Institute. Unaware of any monstrous eyes watching them as they simply watched each other. A new, wonderful feeling developing between them.

Neither noticed that they still held each others hands as they made their way to the break room.

And if they spoke of cat names, and toys and flushed deeply when they did notice the hands still entwined, well.

Those moments were only for them.

[forabeatofadrum]

Happy El WooWoo Wednesday, Wet Beast Wednesday, and Tumblr also wants me to know that it is Wellness Wednesday. Thank you @whogaveyoupermission​, @artsyunderstudy​, @cutestkilla​ and @martsonmars​ for the tags.

I am still writing 3 fics at the moment when I have the time. Two days ago I realised that I am also girlbossing too close to the sun offline, not only online. Is this why Tumblr put a big Wellness Wednesday banner on my mobile dash? I might take a break from writing and what not for January, but don’t quote me on it. I know myself and a) I won’t have Ljubim te finished on time and b) I actually really, really want to finish my Carry On Prompt Fest textfic. I got pretty far in that.

Like I said, I won’t finish Ljubim te on time. Partially because I don’t really know where to next with the story, and partially because I am using all my Klaine braincells for [REDACTED] and when I am not writing Klaine, I am writing There’s nothing ironic about show choir, so have a snippet of that. Today’s chapter had Penny demolishing Simon. Tomorrow, it’s Agga’s turn:

Agatha turns around and she crosses her arms. She ticks her nails against her upper arms. She’s giving me an annoyed look. “I keep telling you I do not care much about the rivalry. Why do you? Simon said something about your mother…”

“Yeah,” I half-lie. Simon was very right about what he said, but it’s not the full truth. I want to appease my mother’s legacy, but I also want his attention.

“Well, would your mother be proud of you for picking fights over choir?” Agatha says sharply. I know she’s a friend, so unlike Simon, she doesn’t say it to hurt me, but it still stings.

“No,” I admit.

“Exactly, and you know it,” she says.

And okay, fuck, have some Ljubim te after all, under the cut with the tags and a meme. Hopefully it motivates me to continue this.

“There’s a rugby field called the Stanežiče Oval, but we can see further in March or April. Kurt, do you want to come along too?”

“To rugby?” Kurt sounds affronted, which makes everyone laugh.

“Hey, thought I’d ask!” Sunil says. Then he playfully elbows Kurt. “If you don’t come along for the sport, you can always come along to ogle guys in tight clothing and short pants.”

“Compelling argument, Mr. Kasun,” Kurt says with a smile, “I shall reconsider it.”

Blaine looks at the two of them.

Oh.

So.

Right.

“Wait, you’re gay?” Blaine blurts out. Both Sunil and Kurt look at him.

Thank you @1908jmd​ for sending me a link to the Stanežiče Oval. Yes, this part is for the Oval prompt.

I also just realised that both Simon and Blaine in these fics are alike. They keep thinking about Baz and Kurt. BUT NOT IN A GAY WAY!

You sure about that, boys?

Tagging @quizasvivamos @crissmastrees-and-candyklaines @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @wellbelesbian @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist  @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @facewithoutheart​ @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ @ionlydrinkhotwater​ @1908jmd​ @special-bc-ur-part-of-it​ @larkral​