#i hope i did well in all my final projects....

[boreal-sea]

Well, I actually spaced out my project for my students across the semester. Their idea is due week 5. You’re supposed to pick a topic you’re interested in so you don’t get bored.

Their 6 sources are due week 9. Their outline is due week 13. Their first draft is due week 15. We do peer edits in class, giving people tips on what to do for edits on their first draft. Their final draft is due week 17.

They get points for all those parts, and only about 2/3rds of the points are on their final draft. And they lose points on the final paper if they didn’t do the first draft, because if they don’t make any edits, that’s points off.

As for how you do a second draft, having time after the first draft helps. Plus you’re NOT rewriting the whole thing, just tweaking what you already have! Peer editing also helps, because they’re going to point out errors you didn’t know were there. No one’s paper is perfect, but it’s usually just little things you need to fix here and there.

I could tell the difference between the students who actually did the project step by step and those who didn’t - the students who did the steps got better grades. Students who did edits got better grades because their papers were always better the second time.

So the goal of spacing it out like this is to teach students how to plan these kinds of projects and do them in a better way.

I was the student who always waited until the last minute and then panicked and got it done. Eventually, that mechanism broke. Literally, I would put it off, panic… and then still not do it. Panic only works for so long. It’s not a healthy coping mechanism for poor executive function. So my hope is to help my students avoid all of that.

I did still have students who didn’t do the prep work. They didn’t ace the assignment. They couldn’t. Doing the prep was part of the grade.

So I taught my students during the first few weeks of class that for their paper, they needed to cite profusely. They needed to cite more than they thought they should cite. They needed to cite multiple times per paragraph. I told them that it was literally impossible for them to over-cite. I showed them an example of my own published papers. It was in the rubric.

At the end of the term, I graded their papers. Most of them did ok. Some of them only cited 2-3 sources even though their References section had 6 sources. And some of them... some of them didn't cite a single time in their entire paper. They had their citations in the References section, but didn't cite them in the paper even once.

Some people just do not follow directions. It's baffling.

And that doesn't even get into all of the APA style errors. Those I can forgive because citation styles are confusing. Citing enough and citing correctly are two separate parts on my rubric to account for this fact, actually.

BUT - it just gives me data for how to teach this even better next semester. I don't have any way to require them to use a citation manager, but the students who used one did MUCH better than those who didn't.

[sanjoongie]

ₛₙₒwₑd ᵤₙdₑᵣ

☃snowed under: be overwhelmed with a very large quantity of something, especially work.

☃Submission for the Anti Holiday Event from @lapydiaries, prompt chosen: too busy to go home

☃Rated: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

☃Genre: fluff, smut

☃Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f)

☃Au: non-idol, office

☃Trope: co-workers to lovers

☃Word Count: 4,493

☃Warnings: Wooyoung is a persistent menace, he also flirts while cooking, kissing, slight body worship, biting, oral (f), hair tugging, hand holding during oral 🥺, kissing with your cum on his lips, penetrative sex with a condom, slight overstim, pain kink, scratching, wooyoung is a panty thief

☃Summary: when your work makes you too busy for the holidays, or gives you any time to visit home, you gain a temporary guest in Wooyoung who is looking to chase away the holiday blues with you. But will a sentimental, intimate setting make this into more than it was meant to be?

☃Soundtrack: Stray Kids' Christmas EveL album {Happy Holidays 🥰}

You cradled your phone between your shoulder and your ear, typing out a work email on your laptop. “I know I know Mom but it’s utterly too busy. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Your mother let out a disappointed sigh and your heart hurt from the sound. “I know work comes first but I was hoping…”

“I was hoping too,” You said eagerly, trying to portray to your mother that you weren’t using work as an excuse. “But this holiday advertisement is just booming and we’ve gotten so many offers for work after Christmas. I can’t just jet off and leave my team to handle everything.”

“I know, dear,” Your mom sounded wearing but proud. “You’ll find time to call though?”

“I will, I promise.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up, rubbing your temples. What was it that you had to do next?

“Heyyyyyyy.” Wooyoung rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to your office and then upon a quick inspection that you weren’t on the phone or otherwise occupied, he collapsed onto the chair in front of you and your desk as well.

Quickly, you moved your open drink out of the way, in case Wooyoung decided to be even more dramatic, and spilled your drink. “Can I help you?” You mused.

“Why did we decide to launch a holiday campaign? I'M EXHAUSTED!” Wooyoung lamented into your desk.

“It’s extremely lucrative,” You brought up.

“Yes, but is the money worth my mental state?” Wooyoung wailed.

Project Manager was a title you held with honor while Wooyoung was your graphics designer. You tried your best to help him out by being the communication between the client and Wooyoung, but Wooyoung still had to bear most of the creative weight. He was pulling long hours at the office and you felt bad for pushing him so hard.

You tentatively patted his head and you froze when Wooyoung moaned loudly. “Uh, Wooyoung, that’s not exactly appropriate noise for being in my office.”

Wooyoung sat up, a pout pulling at his lips. “That’s the first comfort I’ve had in like 72 hours, come on!”

“At least the client has finally settled on what they would like color wise?” You offered optimistically.

Wooyoung blew a raspberry, sinking into the chair until his chin hit his chest. “For now.”

You made a noise of sympathy. “I’ll make it up to you,” You offered.

Wooyoung’s lips were lifted in a sign of dissatisfaction. “Unless you can give me extra time so I at least get to enjoy the holidays then I’m not sure how you can do that.”

You winced. “If it’s any consolation, I'm in the same camp, buddy.”

Wooyoung suddenly brightened up, sitting up in the chair. “Yeah?”

“You needn’t look so enthused,” You grumbled goodnaturedly.

Wooyoung laughed brightly and tipped his head back, covering his mouth. “No. I just mean! I’m all alone for the holidays too.”

It took you a few minutes to absorb that information and to understand why Wooyoung would be excited about you being alone too. “Oh no,” You said, putting your hands up. “Absolutely not.”

Wooyoung frowned and began to whine. “What do you mean no? It could be fun. Come on!”

As much as you were a very hands on person in your job life, it took a lot out of your social battery. So when you clocked out, you enjoyed the solitude and silence of your home. It gave you a headache even imagining Wooyoung in your home for even a 24 hour period. You began to rub your eyebrow in worry.

“I’ll be the best guest, the very very best,” Wooyoung promised. He took your hand into both of his and clasped it warmly. “Plus, I hear you’ve got a nice place. It’s probably nothing like the cramped bachelor I’ve got.”

“Wooyoung…” You tried to tug your hand back, but Wooyoung had a very firm grip on you.

“You said you’d make it up to me!” Wooyoung pouted with his eyes now, making them big and wet and pleading up at you.

You sighed heavily. “Fine. I am a woman of my word.”

Fast forward to the week of Christmas, specifically Christmas Eve. Wooyoung landed on your doorstep bright and early, much to your not-an-early-bird chagrin.

You invited him in and it was a whirlwind as Wooyoung typically emulated. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. He twirled around as he took in the second floor balcony and your eight foot tall Christmas tree. “Your place is gorgeous!” He yelled.

You grasped the back of his jacket, that was currently only being held up in the crook of his elbows, and pulled it off to hang up. “Thank you, Wooyoung. Now--”

Wooyoung was already in your state-of-the-art kitchen, rummaging through your cupboards. “Do we need to go to the grocery store? It doesn’t look like you have flour. You do have sugar, that’s a good sign. We’ll need coloring and sprinkles and--”

“Wooyoung!” You shouted.

Your graphic designer paused, eyes on you, mid-grab of a mixing bowl you didn’t even remember you had. “What?”

“Why are you tearing apart my kitchen?” You screeched.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” Wooyoung drew out the syllable like his tongue needed to catch up with his brain. “Because we’re going to make Christmas yummies?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “It’s the holidays!” you protested. “We should be resting. Ordering take out. Maybe watching some movies?”

Wooyoung frowned like you just told him Santa wasn’t real. “But I had this whole plan. Making homemade hot cocoa and dipping Frosty the Snowman cookies in them!”

You rubbed your face with your hand. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung rounded your island and grabbed your two hands between his again. “I promise it’ll be fun. Come on. Don’t you want some holiday cheer in here?”

Somehow you let Wooyoung talk you into going to the grocery store, even though it was chilly and you hated the cold. But Wooyoung’s enthusiasm drew you like a moth to a flame. So you let him tug you through the rows, as he grabbed ingredients for his grand master plan.

“What about Christmas dinner?” Wooyoung wondered.

“Wooyoung… there’s only the two of us. Surely you don’t want a turkey too?!” You said, flabbergasted.

Wooyoung laughed, high pitched and throwing his head back, just like in your office. People looked over at you and you felt your cheeks heat up. “We can do something smaller. Come on. It’s the least I can do for you, since you took me in. Otherwise, I might just be heating up a microwave dinner in my tiny bachelor.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “Okay.”

Wooyoung bit down on his lower lip, eagerly eyeballing you. “Yeah?”

You breathed in deeply and let it out with a gusty sigh. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Impulsively, Wooyoung brought your hands to his lips and he gave them a loud smacking kiss on the back of them. “You won’t regret it!”

Your mouth dropped as Wooyoung dashed down the aisle, his boots squeaking against the linoleum as he took the corner quickly. Did your coworker just kiss your hands?

“Woo-Wooyoung!” You shouted at him.

“We need peanuts!” Wooyoung shouted.

You pushed the cart full of baking supplies already and attempted to follow the lightning bolt that was named Wooyoung.

Back at your house, you sat on your couch, leaning over the back, watching as Wooyoung took over your kitchen. He prepared everything mise en place, carefully measuring and setting out various plates and bowls of ingredients. Once he was ready, and he turned on the oven, his eyes glittered as he looked at you.

“I’m missing something,” He announced.

“Oh no, did we forget something?” You worried, looking around, hoping it was still in a grocery bag.

Wooyoung grabbed an apron from a bag on a chair and walked steadily towards you. “I need a sous-chef.”

“Oh, Wooyoung, I don’t--”

Wooyoung ignored you. He was behind you, reaching around and tying an apron around your waist. You held in your breath as Wooyoung finished the knot at the small of your back. He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you around. “I’ll guide you through everything.”

A shiver slid down your spine. You mentally smacked yourself. There was no need to have any dirty throughts while Wooyoung simply meant you didn’t have to worry about fucking up his Christmas baking. Right?

Wrong.

Wooyoung had his arms around you the majority of the prepping. If anything needed to be cut up, his hands were around yours, showing the proper way to cut. If you had the rolling pin, he was leaning with you as pie dough was flattened. He made sure your hands were properly floured. He mixed cookie dough with you in your mysterious mixing bowl, feeding a piece of cookie dough and chocolate chunks into your mouth.

That was your last straw. “I need a break,” You said, breaking Wooyoung’s seemingly magic hold on you.

“Why why why, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung’s brown, wet eyes followed you as you put the island between him and you.

“Bathroom break,” You lied through your teeth and made a beeline for your upstairs bathroom, the one connected to your bedroom.

You pushed the door closed behind you and raised your hand to your lips. You swore you could still feel his fingers brushing against your lips as he--you slapped your cheeks with both hands, hoping to wake yourself from whatever dreamland you were in right now. What the actual fuck was going on right now?

You ran the water next and had splashed your face a few times before a loud knock on the door scared the shit out of you, making you jump in the air.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wooyoung’s voice filtered through the wood.

“Yeah!” You shouted back. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You seemed a little flushed down there. You aren’t coming down with anything, are you? I could pivot and make chicken soup if you need it.”

You sighed loudly. Wooyoung was simply a touchy-feely guy. He cared and he gave. You were looking way too fucking deep into everything. Whatever you were feeling, needed to be reeled back.

You opened the door and pasted a cheerful smile on your face. “No, I’m fine. Like I said, bathroom break. Why did you follow me up here anyways? Don’t you have cookies to check on?”

Wooyoung rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet, like he was holding himself back. “I’ve got a timer for that.”

You waited for Wooyoung to turn to the side so that you could leave your bathroom but he didn’t budge. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flitted across your face and you weren’t sure what he was trying to find there. This whole situation felt weird. You felt like Wooyoung was waiting for you to say or do something, but you didn’t know what that was. You let out a sigh and moved past Wooyoung.

“I’m going to go find a movie to put on. Are you more of a The Santa Clause guy or The Christmas Story?”

Your body brushed by Wooyoung’s and in that moment you learned exactly what Wooyoung had been waiting for. His arms circled behind your back and stopped you from moving past him completely. His eyes remained studying your face and his Adam’s apple bobbed in apprehension.

“Boss, do you know why I’m here today?” He asked, his tongue flickering over the freckle on his lip.

You froze. “Uh, because otherwise we’d both be alone on Christmas?”

“No,” Wooyoung murmured. “So that I could get closer to you.”

You laughed nervously. “Well, this is pretty close.”

“Not close enough,” Wooyoung whispered and then leaned forward to press his lips against yours.

His tongue followed the seam of your lips until you opened up for him. Then it tangled with your tongue, as if he was searching out of the taste of the sweet cookie dough you had just consumed minutes ago. It wasn’t until Wooyoung moaned softly into your mouth that you pushed at his shoulders and broke the kiss.

“What was that?” You whispered.

“That was a kiss, Boss,” Wooyoung teased.

“No, seriously!”

“You didn’t like it?”

You didn’t know how you felt. Your mind was reeling with your reality. Did you graphics designer just kiss you with tongue? And did you like it?

A loud buzzer sounded through your loft and then Wooyoung yelped in response. “The cookies!” He shouted and bounded out of your bedroom. And then ran back to the doorframe. “We’re not done with this conversation!” He shouted at you and then ran downstairs.

You were half tempted to lock your bedroom door until Wooyoung threatened to break down the door but you didn’t want to bother the entire building with your drama. So you slowly but surely moved out of your bedroom and down the stairs into the living room.

Wooyoung was moving his chocolate chunk cookies to a cooling rack. His eyes found yours and then he snatched a cookie. “They’re soft and gooey, you should have one.”

You stared at Wooyoung as he broke a cookie apart and then fed it to you. And when you didn’t open your mouth immediately, he said “ah!” loudly until you did. The cookies were perfect. Just like Wooyoung’s typical work.

Wooyoung smiled happily as you chewed and then zoomed back behind the island to decorate the Frosty cookies from earlier.

“So?” Wooyoung asked, without lifting his eyes from his work.

“The cookies are perfect,” You said cautiously.

Wooyoung sent you the most bald-face look, clearly expressing he knew you were avoiding his actual question.

“I’m still processing,” You said.

“I could kiss you again if you need more data,” Wooyoung grinned wickedly.

“I’m turning on a damn movie,” You grumbled.

Wooyoung blew a raspberry at your response but finished his job nonetheless. He made hot cocoa. He slowly heated up the milk, melted the dark chocolate with a double boiler, and whisked his own whip cream.

By the time the intro for The Santa Clause was done, Wooyoung was bringing over his festively decorated Frosty the Snowman cookies and two mugs of hot cocoa. You dug in and you couldn't help but moan out loud at how good the cookies were with the hot cocoa.

“See,” Wooyoung sent you a knowing look, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” You couldn't help but say quietly.

Wooyoung froze mid dip of his cookie. “Are you a serial killer or something I don’t know about?”

Now it was your turn to send him a dirty look. “No but I don’t have any time to entertain a relationship, Wooyoung. You know better than anyone how much my work life consumes my time.”

“Yeah I do know,” Wooyoung agreed.

Wooyoung put his own cookie and mug down, prying the same items from your hands as well, and putting them on the coffee table. “Do you think that information changes how I feel?”

You couldn't help but gasp. “Wooyoung, shut up.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “No, I won’t. We work together, so that’ll make up for the time we don’t get at home. And don’t you know how healing it is to even sleep in the same bed as the one you--?”

You pressed a finger to Wooyoung’s lips. “Stop that.”

Wooyoung gently set his teeth into the tip of your finger playfully. “Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he said with a husky voice.

“Wooyoung!” You hadn't meant for his name to come out as a whine but it did. You could feel your resolve crumbling.

“I can take care of you,” Wooyoung said, his face completely open. “I can cook, I can fu--”

“No, No! Wooyoung, this is ludicrous. Work romances are notoriously messy. What happens if it doesn’t work out? We work too closely together. Plus, if we sleep together, you’ll always look at me like I’m a present to unwrap for you and I cannot handle that on the daily.”

Wooyoung broke out into giggles. “You’re the boss. Who’s going to yell at you if you’re the one that got caught doing it in your office?”

“We are not doing it in my office, Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung pushed you to your back on the couch. “Can we do it here?” He cocked his head cutely.

Goosebumps littered your skin. You could barely handle Wooyoung begging to go on constant coffee runs at work, how did you think you could deny him this?

“No, we cannot do it here,” You whispered, your throat tight with lust.

“I’ll make you a fresh cup of cocoa when we’re done,” Wooyoung promised, leaned down.

Wooyoung once again stole your breath and a kiss from your lips. His lips pressed against yours and then after a few smooches, his lips travelled along your jaw and then down your neck. You were craning your neck to give him room before you realized he was enjoying himself a little too much by sucking a mark there.

“Jung Wooyoung,” You growled, slapping a hand over the mark. “You did not!”

Wooyoung looked pleased with himself. “I did.”

“You must be stopped,” You said in exasperation.

Wooyoung’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I don’t want you to tell me to stop until you get overstimulated.”

“Excuse you?!” You squawked.

Wooyoung was dissolving into giggles again, all the while pushing your sweater up to reveal your stomach and bra. His lips kissed along the tops of your breasts, following the curve of your breast until he met your sternum. He gently but thoroughly kissed down your stomach before his eyes flicked back up to meet yours again.

“I’ve been a good boy. I let you taste my cookies. Let me taste you now.”

You sucked in a breath, only feeding Wooyoung’s ego even more. Still, he patiently waited until you nodded stiffly and then he hooked his fingers under your sweats and underwear, and pulled them off until you were bare from the waist down.

Your heart beat out of your chest as he settled between your legs and placed sweet kisses along your mound. You could feel yourself warming up for the graphics designer. He bit down into the flesh part of your thigh before soothing it with his tongue and kisses.

When Wooyoung ate you out, you felt like you were an ice cream sandwich. His tongue delicately licked your inner folds like he was truly gathering your wetness on his tongue to taste you. His eyes would shoot back to yours every once in a while, to gauge how you were but you were simply a whimpering mess, biting down on your finger to keep your moans from getting louder.

Wooyoung tugged on your arm until you let go of your finger. “Wanna hear how good I’m doing,” He mumbled and then went back to business.

“Oh fuck,” You cursed as Wooyoung began to kitten-lick your clit.

One hand dove into his hair to hold him in place and your other scratched against the cushion below you. Wooyoung immediately pressed his fingers in between yours, just as he flattened his tongue against your clit, knowing you’d need the support.

“Wooyoung, wait!” You whined. “I’m gonna--jesus!”

Your thighs shook as your orgasm ripped through you embarrassingly early. It had been a while since you had gotten such good head.

“Oh fuck that’s hot,” Wooyoung mumbled before he was climbing up your body to kiss you again.

You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips and you shuddered at how dirty it was.

“See, told you I could take care of you,” Wooyoung whispered, lips pink and swollen from kissing you and eating you out.

You swallowed loudly. “You did.”

“Let me fuck you on the couch,” Wooyoung pleaded, pressing his head to your forehead charmingly.

“You better have a condom,” You scowled.

“Never leave home without them!” Wooyoung proclaimed.

He stood up and reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a condom package. He bit down on the packaging and then began to undo his pants.

“Wooyoung…oh god.” You went from scolding Wooyoung to moaning about the state of his lower half. He had barely pushed his pants down to his thighs when you saw his cock pressed up against his black boxer briefs. He was thick.

Wooyoung pressed his lips together as he smoothed the condom over his length. “I’m going to stuff you, lovely, just you wait.”

You pushed yourself up from the couch, sitting up the proper way, facing Wooyoung. “If you make some corny joke about me being a turkey, I swear to god,” You threatened.

Wooyoung threw back his head and laughed; the same laugh that had been entertaining you from the office to the grocery store and now in your living room. It never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Whether it was its charm or its owner, you weren’t quite sure, but it always made you react.

“Nah, I just wanna fuck you good,” Wooyoung admitted.

“Shut up,” You whispered, feeling your face heat up again.

“Gladly,” Wooyoung whispered huskily.

He slipped between your legs, rubbing up against your wet folds. His lips pressed against yours, sensually kissing you while he slicked up his condom-covered cock. It was a bit of a job working himself deeper inside of you. You were tighter once you’ve come, however, Wooyoung sounded like he was enjoying every moment of it.

“Sucking me in, jesus,” Wooyoung grunted.

“I am not,” You hissed.

Wooyoung grinned in response. He scooped a leg under one arm and bend pulled it up so he could get a better angle inside of you. “Your pussy is greedy for me.”

“Wooyoung!” You scolded him under your breath.

Wooyoung started to rock his hips against yours, groaning at the sensation. You squirmed a bit as your sensitive clit rubbed against his taut stomach.

“I got you,” Wooyoung cooed at you, cupping your face with his free hand.

“It's too much,” You whined.

Wooyoung’s grin couldn't get any wider. “Want me to stop?”

You couldn't help but pout. “No, I just--” You moaned as he grounded against you again.

“You like a little pain with your pleasure?” Wooyoung lifted an eyebrow at you. “That’s cool. Me too.”

“I--”

You dug your fingers into Wooyoung’s shoulders as his hips swiveled against yours again. Wooyoung hissed and then he chuckled. “There you go.”

You wrapped your legs around Wooyoung’s waist, bucking your hips and meeting his thrusts. You could feel your wetness smearing against Wooyoung’s pelvis but you couldn't give a crap because it felt so good.

You dug your teeth into the nape of his shoulder next and Wooyoung gasped. “Fuck yes.”

The both of you soon unraveled together. You sweet whines intermingled with Wooyoung’s loud, lusty moans. Wooyoung panted into the crook of your shoulder for a moment until his softening cock made him slip out of you and then you both groaned at the sensation. The condom remained and you watched in utter horror as his cum spilled out of the condom and onto your couch.

“Ah, shit,” Wooyoung laughed, eyes looking around for a cloth.

He pulled his pants and underwear up and as he jogged into the kitchen to wet a clean tea towel.

You winced as you pulled the condom out of you and tied it up. You left the couch to throw out the condom. You tugged your shirt back down and looked for where Wooyoung had tossed your--

“Here,” Wooyoung intercepted you with your pants.

You opened your mouth to address what exactly just happened but Wooyoung’s phone went off.

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it without pause. “Hey, Mom.”

Oh god. If you two hadn't come any earlier, you would have been interrupted by his mom calling. That was--

Wooyoung cupped his mouth over his phone. “No, I told you--uh, what? My location is different?” Wooyoung chuckled nervously. “What are you talking about?”

Wooyoung held his phone away from his ear as his mother screeched through the speaker. “Why didn’t you just bring the girl home instead of telling me you were too busy with work? Don’t you think I’d want to meet her?”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, shot anxiously to you, and then his lips pressed his cheeks back. “Mom. Seriously, we’re swamped with work, there’s no time.”

“Well, you make sure you make time to call your family tomorrow, okay? I don’t care how into this girl you are, your family--”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because Wooyoung dashed into the downstairs half bath and closed the door with his foot.

You sympathized at least about the mother disappointed in her child not coming home for the holidays.

At least it gave you time to put your pants on. You frowned when you didn’t find your underwear, however.

Wooyoung must have finished up his call because he came out with an ‘aw shucks’ look on his face. “I’m sorry about that. My mom is--”

“Your mom,” You mused out loud.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung laughed and then his face dropped. “Listen, there’s no pressure, we can just enjoy this and--”

“Eat dinner? Finish the movie?” you offered.

Wooyoung’s eyes scanned your face except this time you knew what he was looking for: Wooyoung wanted to know that everything was okay. You had just been fed and thoroughly fucked. What wasn’t there to like? “Yeah?”

“Yes, Wooyoung, I’m not going to kick you out of my place,” You deadpanned. “Geez, what kind of person do you take me for?”

“A harsh task mistress who's hard to impress,” Wooyoung supplied.

You laughed under breath, that was part a sigh. “You’re still sleeping on the couch.”

“Wait--hey!” Wooyoung protested. “Surely I wasn’t that bad of a lay!”

“No, for making a cum stain on my couch,” You replied.

“I didn’t even get a chance and I’m already in the dog house?” Wooyoung muttered to himself.

It was your turn to throw your head back and laugh, clutching your stomach and tears streaming down your face.

“Okay, it’s not that funny,” Wooyoung pouted, cleaning up his mess.

“Let’s see after supper,” You relented.

You could practically see Wooyoung’s ears perk up. “I’ll blow your pants off a second time.”

“Wooyoung,” You said his name in warning.

Wooyoung looked pleased at your response. “Maybe the third time I can convince you to let me sleep in the bed with you.”

It looked like you weren’t going to be able to shake off this man and you felt a little bit better for it. You two could fill the void each other was feeling after working so hard. And maybe you’d get to finish the movie too.

“As soon as you tell me where my underwear are,” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Wooyoung grinned. “They’re mine now.”

“Wooyoung!”

[thatpieceoftrash]

I see my reflection in your eyes

Malleus x reader

WC: 833

In which you try to bring Malleus comfort in any way you can.

You’re not exactly sure how all of this started. Was it the way his voice turned more cheerful? Or maybe it was the longing look in his eyes when he spoke of it (one you were well too acquainted with).

In the end you supposed it wouldn't matter what the reason was, you had something to look forward to, and what you hoped would be a nice gift for a friend, who more than deserved it.

So, the next day after classes and dealing with whatever trouble Grim decided to cause that day, you found yourself in Sam’s shop looking for the (less than)perfect tools, given that you had to work with the small allowance Crowley gave you, In his “benevolence “, as he liked to call it.

“If it isn’t the prefect! What can I do for you? Although I already heard from my friends on the other side that you want to prepare something special for a certain someone.” Sam said with that knowing smile of his.

‘Of course he already knows, it’s like he has ghosts who work as spies for him. Actually maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea for your own ghosts…’

“It's not like you make it out to be, this is a gesture for friendship appreciation” you said, rolling your eyes, even though you knew deep down it was something more than that.

“Whatever you say, little imp” but you didn’t miss the teasing tone his words carried.

You were so excited for this project of yours, that upon returning from Sam’s you didn’t even bother changing out of your uniform, getting started with the task at hand.

Man, and what a task it was going to be. The ramshackle garden was last tended to probably when the wheel was invented . No matter, the state of the dorm never stopped you from achieving your goal, perhaps delayed it a tiny bit, nothing more.

Working with the mud in already freezing conditions was another hell itself, you were pretty sure you touched some weird magical worm, as if normal ones weren’t already bad enough. But imagining the smile on your friend’s face was enough to make you go back to work.

You don’t know how much time has passed since you started, although the little group of fireflies surrounding you was a telltale sign that your friend decided to pay you a visit , which only happened at night.

‘Just in time’ you thought to yourself as you turned around and faced the horned visitor.

“Tsunotaro! You’re here at the perfect time.” You chirped, walking up to him with a smile.

“Good evening, child of man”, he greeted, returning your smile, with his own, although his had a hint of mischief in it, “you seem rather excited, did something happen?”

“Something like that, I wanna show you something I think you’ll like.” And then you stepped out of the way to give him a full view of the little colourful corner that now took residence in your garden. You looked up at him to try and gouge his expression, his eyes widened a little, however his smile was completely gone.

‘Uh-oh, did he not like it?! Of course he wouldn't, you idiot!, he’s a prince and these dumb flowers were probably nothing in comparison to his royal garden’

“If you don’t like it, I completely understand, it’s nothing special and-“ but before you could finish your sentence, you heard a joyous laugh coming from Malleus, startled you looked up only to see him staring at the roses in front of him.

“Truly, you are a most interesting human, did you do all this for me?” And he finally turned to look at you.

“Well, every time you talked about your rose garden back at home, you got this faraway look in your eyes, like you’re longing for something”, you said lowering your head in embarrassment, “I know homesickness better than anyone, Tsunotaro. So I was hoping these flowers would make you feel a bit better. “

And then you felt cold fingers on your chin tilting your head upwards, all you could see was beautiful emerald green eyes, which held such a fond look and utter adoration in them, you could hardly believe the recipient was you.

“There is no need to be ashamed ", he said softly. “To think you would be so perceptive to feelings I wasn’t even aware of having, and what’s more, you were kind enough to offer me a piece of comfort in your own home. The roses are lovely, and so are you, my dear child of man. You have my gratitude for this gift” And if you didn’t melt at those words, you sure did at the chaste kiss he placed on your cheek.

“I’m happy you like it, come one, let me give you a closer look!” And with cheeks matching the colour of the red roses, you took his hand in yours and walked towards your own little garden of bliss.

[hishighnesstheprincess]

so what's your overall thoughts on the movie??

General: sa2 still clears and specifically I think the sa2 lore for the ARK trio (Shadow Maria and Gerald) is a lot better, but this was pretty good (sometimes even great) for a movieverse (loose) adaptation of sa2. I did not like Gerald though, I think his crusty ass should have been left in the 70s

Specific thoughts under the cut (spoilers obviously)

My main criticisms rn is that it basically just feels like a watered down version of sa2, from most of the main story beats to the lore to the characters etc. Obviously I was not expecting them to have the same amount of depth that the games managed to give to Shadow's story from both the extra content that comes along with the games (like the manual that confirmed Maria's illness) but I feel like cutting out stuff like Maria's illness and her wish just left the story feeling neutered in some very important ways. The other big thing I didn't like was Gerald in general. Like yeah he was kinda funny the first two acts, but then he keeps the goofy schtick up while Sonic and Shadow are trauma bonding and kicking ass in space and idk. If they wanted to show him as a more evil version of Eggman maybe have him just actually be more evil for the final act. Ideally he should have behaved more menacing after dropping the "You're no Maria" line. Also the pacing was fast as hell, and apparently the film cut relatively important stuff like explanations for how Gerald was alive at 110 years old (he was licking that Shadow quill apparently) and also led to stuff like Shadow's entire arc being kinda rushed.

Aside from those though... I kind of loved it???? Big surprise coming from me I know, and I do wonder if it's just recency bias, but I think this is easily and by far the best project the films have put out. If you've seen both trailers for this film you can predict how 95% of the plot is going to go along with the character arcs, but they're still decently effective (for everyone except Gerald). The goofiness does get to be a bit much sometimes and my god I wish they would just let movie Sonic be quiet for once in a while, but towards the later half it starts getting really good. The parallels between Sonic and Shadow are well-made and impactful. Super Sonic and Super Shadow are hype. The action is fucking fantastic (if you go to these films just for spectacle you ABSOLUTELY want to see this one). And the found family stuff is the best it's ever been. If you like Wachowski sibling content, and specifically Wachowski sibling angst, you will be feasting. Tails and Knuckles fans, GO TO THIS MOVIE. I won't say why but you'll fucking love it

Depending on my mood, it's a 6/10-8/10 from me

Random thoughts

The non-game human characters are the best balanced that they've ever been

The game human characters are not well balanced at all lmao

Even if movie 4 will inevitably be less hype than movie 3, I can honestly see it maybe being the best so far which is 100% my own bias

Amy's design is cute as hell and Metal's design is awesome as hell

I'm kinda glad Jim Carrey is (presumably) gone ngl

I hope they keep the energy Sonic had in the third act and mid-credits for the rest of the franchise, even if it will obviously be less intense than when he was literally trying to kill someone

I am going to make so many fanfics where movie Sonic suffers bc I adore him so much (/negative) (/positive)

I think it would be best if the next movie was just Sonic, Amy, and Metal. I love the sibs but this being in live action, if the cast keeps getting inflated every individual member is just going to have so much less time. Maybe Sonic and Amy get kidnapped to Little Planet or something

I want them to keep her crush on Sonic but also her spunky and somewhat violent and irrational attitude. If they kept Knuckles gullibility they should also keep her flaws

Shadow and Maria's story may be infinitely more compelling in the games but them in the movies is just more entertaining idk what to tell you

They gotta give Maddie something to do. She is literally just Tom's +1 at the moment please god give her something to do

I do not feel bad about the GUN commander guy at ALLLLLLLL lmao i think he shoulda died choking on his own blood. bitchass

you still don't need to watch the knuckles show

[the-pen-pot]

'What was in that potion?' he rasped, swallowing the pasty flavour in his mouth. His lungs felt unpleasantly raw, and a dull ache stirred to swift life in his temples. Gaius scurried about, opening windows and retrieving some water, pressing a cup into Merlin's hands. 'In small doses, it's an excellent tonic for numerous fevers and ailments. However, it has some rather unfortunate interactions with those who use magic.' Merlin closed his eyes in disbelief. 'Unfortunate how?' 'It varies. The more powerful the mage, the more... extreme the reaction.' ------ An accident in the healing rooms leaves Merlin confined to his chambers, ailing and miserable. There's a unicorn in the kitchens and a nymph in the marketplace well. The only silver lining is that Arthur is there to tend him. Will the distance that has grown between Camelot's king and his court sorcerer widen, or will they finally heal the breach for the better?

Beyond The Bliss Of Dreams

 

Gaius' healing rooms were one of the cornerstones of Camelot. War came and went, kings rose and fell, but the chamber remained the same. The days of Merlin's apprenticeship were far behind him, yet there was something comforting to be found in the familiarity of Gaius' domain. Whenever the burden of Court Sorcerer became too much, he had a tendency to retreat to that herb-cluttered sanctum, if only to remember how far he had come.

'To what, exactly, do I owe this pleasure?' Gaius murmured, raising one eyebrow and casting Merlin a fond look where he was slumped at the workbench, his brow supported on his folded arms and his shoulders hunched up to his ears. 'I certainly hope a man of your station is not avoiding his obligations to the council.'

'No more than you are.' Merlin lifted his head, offering him a grin. In truth, they were both supposed to be attending the round table. Gaius, at least, had a good excuse. He was mixing curatives for the long winter ahead. Already, frost had started to paint the windowpanes, and before long the cold would arrive in earnest. With it would come all sorts of maladies requiring his attention. It was better to be well-prepared.

'Well, since you're here, you might as well make yourself useful.' He placed a bowl in front of Merlin and handed him an iron rod. 'Stir that in a widdershins direction, and do be careful. It's a volatile elixir and I would not wish to start over. While you're at it, you can explain to me why, precisely, you are hiding in my chambers.'

'I'm not hiding.' Merlin pulled a face. 'It's a strategic retreat.' He sighed, knowing Gaius wouldn't buy it for a moment. 'Arthur's been strange ever since the visit from the Nemeth delegation. He's avoiding me, so I thought I would make it easier on him.'

Gaius hummed. 'Ah, yes. Nemeth.' There was a telling pause. 'You and the Princess Mithian certainly seemed to strike up a rapport, this time.'

That, to Merlin's ear, sounded unnecessarily judgemental. 'I was being friendly. Besides, she's actually pleasant, unlike some royals I know.'

'Hmmm.' Gaius bustled around, leaving Merlin to fill the silence.

'Maybe it helped that no one was trying to marry her off to Arthur this time around. Rodor was here to renew treaties, nothing more. It made a nice change, not having a princess throwing herself at Arthur's feet. Not that Mithian ever did. She had more sense.' 

Ever since Arthur and Gwen had come to a mutual agreement that her true heart lay in Lancelot's hands, there had been renewed attempts by every lord in Albion to wed their daughters to the land's most eligible bachelor. It was infuriating. Merlin weathered it with all the grace he could muster, which wasn't very much.

Maybe it would be better if any of them looked at Arthur and saw more than his crown. Not that he could blame them. They were merely meeting their father's expectations, simpering and swooning in the hopes of elevating the status of their families. Mithian's friendship made a refreshing change, and her spirit, combined with Rodor's doting temperament, meant she was not afraid to be herself.

'Well, she certainly made no secret of her regard for you. I think the entire court noticed that you two were as thick as thieves. Arthur included.'

Something anxious curled in the pit of Merlin's stomach: a shimmering little twist of uncertainty that made him pause what he was doing, frowning in his uncle's direction. 'What do you mean?'

'Merlin! Don't stop stirring!'

The warning came too late. In retrospect, Merlin would be grateful that the elixir wasn't hot. As it was, the few glistening bubbles in its inky surface exploded into life, throwing a noxious smoke up into the air and splashing his face with liquid. It bit at his eyes and got in his mouth, tasting truly foul. His curses didn't help matters, and gnarled hands shoved him gracelessly down onto the bench as a wet cloth swiped at his skin.

'You foolish boy!' Gaius cried, as if Merlin were not a man grown rather than a bumbling apprentice. Yet he did not miss the note of genuine distress in that voice, and he blinked owlishly up at Gaius' pale face.

'What was in that?' he rasped, swallowing the pasty flavour in his mouth. His lungs felt unpleasantly raw, and a dull ache stirred to swift life in his temples.

Gaius scurried about, opening windows and retrieving some water, pressing a cup into Merlin's hands. 'In small doses, it's an excellent tonic for numerous fevers and ailments. However, it has some rather unfortunate interactions with those who use magic.'

Merlin closed his eyes in disbelief. 'Unfortunate how?'

'It varies. The more powerful the mage, the more... extreme the reaction.' Gaius gave him a grim look, the kind he offered when he knew he had made an error in judgement. 'I should not have asked you to handle it, my boy. I failed to recall your tendency towards distraction.'

Merlin groaned, propping his head in his hands. So far, he just felt a bit raw, as if he'd been licked at by a flame's curling edge, but he doubted that would last long. Whatever else he may be, Gaius was an excellent healer. He knew how to dilute tonics for their best efficacy, but what Merlin had been stirring was the raw base: more potent by far.

'Why didn't you warn me?' he whined.

'I'm warning you now. How much did you swallow?'

'Barely any. It got in my eyes. I breathed in the smoke...'

Gaius cursed, which was rare enough to make Merlin falter. 'Then a purgative will offer no real help. I think it best you retire to your chambers and stay there. I do not think it will do you any permanent harm, and it should pass by dawn.' Gaius dithered where he stood, and when he spoke again, his voice resonated with genuine remorse. 'I am sorry, my boy. I should have been more mindful of the risks. I will inform the king.'

Merlin grimaced. With the way Arthur had been acting this past week or so, he doubted that he would even notice his absence. 'All right. Is there anything I should do? Or know?'

'It would be best for everyone involved if you try to sleep it off,' Gaius said after a moment's thought. Merlin wondered if he thought he wouldn't notice the hesitation in his voice. He got the distinct notion there was something he wasn't saying. 'Can you stand? I would not dawdle, if I were you. I doubt it will be long before the effects strengthen.'

His gnarled hand was a constant support at Merlin's elbow as he picked his way down the stairs. Judging distance felt more difficult than normal, and his vision carried a faint wobble, as if the world did not quite keep up when he turned his head. It felt like a concussion, or perhaps the end of a long night at the tavern, but there was more to it than that. His magic, normally so calm and still within him, surged and rippled like a storm-lashed sea: fretful in the caverns of his heart.

'Sir Elyan. Some assistance?'

Merlin blinked in surprise. He had barely noticed that they'd got into the castle proper. Time and distance were moving strangely, spinning out into eternity before passing in a jolt. It felt increasingly difficult to focus on the here and now. An uncomfortable, chilly sweat prickled across his skin, and his stomach wrung itself threateningly.

'Gods, what happened? You look awful.' Elyan never had been one to mince his words, but his grip on Merlin's arm was as strong as any anchor: a blessing all its own.

'There was an unfortunate accident in the healing rooms. Merlin needs to be confined to his chambers for his own safety. Can you get him there?'

'Yeah, of course. Will he be all right?'

Again, there was a fractional hesitation from Gaius, subtle, but unmissable. 'He just needs some time. I'll shall leave you in Elyan's care, my boy. I must speak with the king.'

A warm hand on his forehead made Merlin blink, and he squinted, trying to focus on Elyan's sympathetic face. 'Do I look that bad?' he croaked.

'Worse,' Elyan promised, looping an arm around Merlin's waist and tucking them together, hip-to-hip, as he guided him through the castle. 'What happened?'

'Potion blew up in my face.' He swallowed, wishing his throat felt less like someone had poured glue down it. 'Between the smoke and whatever I swallowed...' The word strangled off in his throat, and he paused, leaning heavily on Elyan as he waited for the world to stop smearing sideways. 'Gods, this is awful.'

'Yeah, I can see that. If you could maybe not throw up on my boots? They're new.'

Briefly, and full of spite, Merlin considered doing just that, but the sickness was a dry, unproductive nausea. It sat in his belly like a sharp stone, cutting at him.

'I'm fine.'

He dutifully ignored Elyan's scoff of disbelief, splaying one hand against the wall to help steady himself as they inched along towards his chambers, which were too far away for someone in his condition. Sweat stuck his hair to his brow, and he briefly contemplated the fine art of simply dying where he stood. It certainly seemed like less trouble.

By the time Elyan had shouldered aside the door, he suspected both of them were sweating as Merlin relied on him more and more to support his weight. At some point, pain had started up in his thighs, biting into the muscles and making him limp. The large sprawl of his bed was a blessed relief, and he collapsed onto the quilt with a faint whine of relief, clinging to the mattress with clawed fingers.

'All right,' Elyan managed. 'Let's get you sorted. At least you're not wearing court finery, but you should probably take your boots off.'

'Don't make me move,' Merlin begged. 'I'm going to kill Gaius. What the fuck was in that potion?'

'Talk to me?' Something gripped his ankle, and Merlin's spine tightened in panic before he remembered Elyan was a friend and here to help him. 'What exactly does it feel like?'

'Dizzy. Achy. My head hurts. My legs. My back. Thinking is... difficult.' He opened one eye, only to moan as the light stabbed at it. 'Everything looks a bit runny, and it feels like it's probably a dream.' He hesitated, wetting his lips. He was pretty sure he'd slurred horribly through the last bit of that sentence, and it took all his concentration to line up five words and deliver them in an almost coherent way. 'Not a very nice one.'

There was a clank as Elyan put the clean chamber-pot within easy reach of the bed, and then a cool, damp cloth draped over the nape of Merlin's neck, providing a fragment of relief. A warm hand rested in the nest of his hair, and Elyan's soothing voice chased him down into the darkness.

'Sleep. Merlin. Maybe you'll feel better when you wake up.'

******

Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, was not sulking, no matter what certain, treasonous members of his own court (Morgana and Gwaine) might suggest. He was the picture of nobility and duty, and his irritation that his Court Sorcerer was missing from council was limited to a dignified scowl of annoyance. 

It had all started with Nemeth. Or, more to the point, with Princess Mithian. She was a lovely woman, made more so by the fact that neither she nor her father had marriage on their mind. Her second visit to Camelot was a vast improvement over the first.

Or it had been, right up until Arthur had noticed how she and Merlin behaved around one another. How they laughed and smiled and murmured, their eyes sparkling with their shared secrets. How they stood close to one another and sought each other out. How Merlin grinned, flashing his dimples, and how Mithian listened, rapt and fascinated.

He drummed his fingers, just once, on the surface of the round table, giving all the appearance of absorbing a report from Lord Vespin while his thoughts raced in the same, tortured circles that they had occupied for weeks, now.

The friendship that bloomed was aggravating, though Arthur endeavoured to set aside his jealousy. It was childish and unbecoming. Yet one night at banquet, he had heard a glimmer of whispered gossip: a suggested match between them, and despair had yawned, cold and deep, in the pit of his stomach.

It was not difficult to see what had sparked that particular rumour. They suited each other, Merlin and Mithian, dark-haired and clever, kind with a surprising cunning streak. Their compatibility was obvious, and their regard for each other made itself clear to anyone who glanced in their direction.

He could have done something about it: kept Merlin busy with sorcerous chores, perhaps, or done his best to separate them. The temptation had been almost overwhelming, growing day-by-day alongside his fears. Perhaps if he were still that boy who had chased Merlin around the marketplace with a mace, that was precisely what he would have done. He'd have put his own feelings before Merlin's potential happiness and nipped whatever might be growing between them in the bud.

Except that Merlin's joy couldn't be more obvious. He had flourished since Arthur took the throne, coming to life as magic returned to Camelot, but never did that seem more apparent than when he was at Mithian's side. Arthur had half-expected... he didn't know. Merlin to take him aside one day and ask his permission to leave the court, or something. He had turned the notion in his own mind, trying to think like a king and a friend as his heart ached and fluttered and squeezed.

He had attempted to brace himself for what he feared was an inevitable loss, putting subtle distance between them. He stopped barging into Merlin's chambers with breakfast and made excuses to avoid sharing wine in front of the fire. He retreated behind the veil of his duties and tried to disregard the ache in his chest that grew every day.

Yet it had never happened. The Nemeth delegation left and Merlin remained behind in Camelot where he belonged. Arthur's relief had been absolute. He felt as if he had received a stay of execution, except now it was Merlin who kept his distance – always busy, always elsewhere, and with a shadow in his gaze these days that Arthur did not want to look at too closely.

It only made him wonder if the axe would still one day fall, sundering Merlin from Arthur's side as he went on to better, brighter things.

Gods, what a mess.

He sighed quietly as the meeting came to an end, the councillors rising from their seats and the chairs scraping over the flagstones. The noise almost muffled the sound of the door opening, but it did not conceal the tattoo of Gaius purposeful stride, rapidly approaching.

Arthur froze like a rabbit caught in the hunter's sights, unwelcome panic braiding his spine. Gaius was getting on in years, and it was rare he stirred himself to haste unless there was an emergency. Now that old face was etched in a deeply serious expression, his lips pursed and his brow twisted in a worried frown.

Arthur got to his feet, raising his eyebrows as Gaius stopped by his elbow. Yet the old man did not speak. Instead, he watched the other councillors like a hawk, waiting for them to depart until only Arthur's inner circle remained, each of them watching with growing alarm.

'Gaius, what is it?'

'It is Merlin, Sire. He was assisting me in mixing curatives, but there was a mishap. It is my own fault, but he has been dosed with a substance that has a rather... negative impact on those of a magical persuasion.'

'Is he all right?' Gwaine asked, glancing towards the door. He looked like he was tempted to charge off and see Merlin for himself. Only common sense held him back. Every knight knew to gather all possible information before choosing a course of action.

'Sir Elyan has seen him back to his chambers. With time, the medicine will leave his system and he will be back to normal, but...'

'But?' Arthur prompted, noting the sag of Gaius' shoulders and the new lines creasing his face.

'Merlin's power is considerable. Effects that would be unfortunate in a sorcerer of less strength could be troubling to Camelot as a whole. Hallucinations and visions are common, but Merlin's abilities are such that they may be unusual. Then, there is the matter of his temperament.'

'Is he likely to become violent?' Leon leaned his hip against the table and folded his arms across his chest, that pale gaze astute. A violent man could be restrained until the moment passed, but a mage was another matter. Stopping Merlin from hurting himself or others could be a challenge they were unable to meet.

'No, you misunderstand me. In large doses, one of the ingredients in the elixir makes the recipient biddable. Obedient, to an alarming extent.'

'Well, that would be novel,' Arthur murmured. 'Merlin's not managed obedience in all the time I've known him.' 

Morgana straightened where she stood, pursing her lips. 'Merlin's the most powerful sorcerer in all Albion. If he'll do what anyone tells him? Even within Camelot's walls there are those who would use that to their own advantage if they knew.'

'Hence why I exercised discretion.' Gaius bowed his head. 'I take full responsibility, Sire. We must focus not only Merlin's well-being, but on that of the kingdom as a whole. I am not certain how bad things might get.'

Any faint glimmer of mirth fell away, replaced by sinking horror. Restoring magic to Camelot had been the work of long months, and it would be a journey the kingdom continued to make for some years yet. There were those in Uther's old court who would not hesitate to leap on any opportunity to decry sorcery once more. If news of what happened got out...

'I will go and relieve Elyan,' Arthur began, his mind racing. 'As king, I'm above reproach. Even if this matter comes to light at a later date, it could be used against us. People could accuse those who looked after Merlin of taking advantage of the situation to suit their own ends.'

'And no one would dare question you.' Lancelot nodded in understanding, glancing towards the door as it opened once more, disgorging the scurrying figure of George. He looked a touch dishevelled, but his bow was as neat and precise as ever, and there was no trace of uncertainty on his features as Arthur urged him to speak.

'Apologies, Your Majesty, but there is a unicorn in the kitchen.'

Arthur blinked before slanting a sideways look at Gaius, who had closed his eyes and bowed his head. 'I see. Is it hurting anyone?'

'No, Sire. It's eating the parsnips.' George managed to imply that such behaviour was very bad manners, but if he was otherwise alarmed by the sudden appearance of a magical creature, he did not let it show. 'We tried to urge it out, Sire, but the kitchen is in the cellars and it did not favour the stairs. Also it is... not inconsiderable in size.'

'Right.' Arthur blew out a breath, trying to work out the best course of action. 'Lancelot, Leon. Go to the stables. Get the grooms. If they can get the unicorn safely out of the kitchens, then do so. Make it comfortable in the stables. Don't hurt it, and definitely don't kill it. If it cannot be moved, then at least make sure it is provided for.'

'They are docile creatures,' Gaius added, 'though they can be stubborn. Tell me, George, if you will, how solid is the beast? Does it seem vaporous? Transparent?'

If George thought the question strange, he said nothing of it. 'No. It is as real as you or I, Gaius.'

'Ah. Very well. Thank you.'

Lancelot and Leon followed George out, their promises to keep Arthur apprised drifting over their shoulders as they went. Morgana arched one dark eyebrow, offering Gaius a pointed look. 'So, less hallucination, more magical manifestation?' she asked, her voice carrying that scathing, sweet tone that suggested she was hanging on to her patience by a thread. 'I suppose we should be grateful it was a unicorn, rather than a Questing Beast that appeared in the castle.'

'It is unlikely to be the only instance.' Gaius sighed, that wise mind clearly hard at work behind his tired gaze. 'Sire, I suggest that, rather than trying to hide what is happening, you let people know that there may be some unusual occurrences about the town.'

'Something that's almost the truth might be best,' Percival added. So far, he had remained silent, taking everything in. Now, his chainmail clinked softly as he shifted his weight. 'Perhaps say that Merlin is experiencing a short illness and will soon be recovered. That way we can have everyone watching out for strange events, but we can also hide his vulnerability from anyone who might take advantage?'

'Morgana, can I leave that with you?' Arthur asked.

'Naturally.' She smoothed a palm down her skirt and straightened her shoulders. 'You can help me, Gaius, since it appears this is mostly your fault. Unless there is anything further you can do to aid Merlin in his recovery?'

'Alas, no. A purgative would have little effect. He should drink plenty of water and rest when he can. This will pass, and he will emerge the other side of it without any ill effects. It is merely that the journey may be a touch... unusual.'

Arthur nodded, pressing the knuckle of his thumb briefly to his eye, trying to anticipate how bad things were likely to get. A unicorn may be surprising, but it was relatively benign. If it was the worst they had to deal with while Merlin was indisposed, he would count it as a blessing.

'Gwaine, Percival, I need you to keep an eye on the rest of the citadel. I'll send Elyan to join you. We should also inform the town watch, since I assume we don't know how far these manifestations might spread?' Gaius shook his head in reply, and Arthur grimaced. Hopefully, any strange happenings would limit themselves to the citadel. He had no wish to startle the outlying villages, or worse, the neighbouring kingdoms. 'I'll see to Merlin.'

He tried not to move with unseemly haste through the castle, but Arthur suspected he was not fooling anyone. Gaius had seemed certain than Merlin was in no real physical danger, but his words still clattered around Arthur's head. None of their friends would take advantage of the situation, but if it became public knowledge then there were plenty of enemies of magic that could twist things to their benefit. He would not feel happy until he'd seen Merlin for himself, and if he had to stand sentry while he recovered, then so be it.

Elyan answered his tap on the door, greeting him with unmasked relief. A crimson butterfly the size of a sparrow fluttered over his shoulder, making its bid for freedom. Despite himself, Arthur's lips twisted into a smile. Unicorns and butterflies... He should have known.

'How is he?'

'Sleeping, which is just as well. He looks pretty bad. Gaius said he'd get better, but...' Elyan gestured towards the bed, where Merlin lay curled up beneath the quilt, his dark curls scribbled across the pillow and his face a startling, pasty shade. It was enough to make Arthur take a step forward, unbuckling the sword on his belt and propping it against the wall before he cautiously pressed his fingertips to his clammy brow.

'He is with Morgana, spinning a story about an illness. Have him come up here and see Merlin for himself as soon as he gets a moment. I have no doubt he will do it anyway, but I'd like to be sure Gaius is not underestimating the severity of what happened.'

'Yes, Sire. I'll have the servant bring food and water for you both. What about your paperwork? I assume you're staying?' Elyan made no effort to hide his knowing approval when Arthur nodded.

'I'll be here for the duration. Gaius said that the potion will make Merlin biddable. I do not want anyone to take advantage of that. Thank you for getting him up here safely.'

'I doubt he could have done it on his own.' Elyan patted Arthur on the shoulder. 'Shout if you need anything, Sire.'

The door closed in his wake, sealing Arthur in. He was left to make himself comfortable in the chambers he'd given Merlin on his elevation to the court. The multitudinous books came as no surprise: Merlin had thrown himself into the study of magic now that it was once more permitted in Camelot. Nor, Arthur supposed, were the herbs, but there were other things here and there: strange rocks and oddities of gleaming brass. They did not appear magical, precisely, but there was something otherworldly about them all the same.

Once, walking into a room such as this would have filled him with uncertainty, but now there was comfort to be found in the familiar. Merlin's presence was all over the place, and while the man himself may be asleep, Arthur could feel the soothing whisper of his magic. It was hard to think that it might one day be gone – that Merlin would follow the path of his future far from Arthur's side. Perhaps the thing with Mithian had been nothing more than rumour, but one day someone would claim Merlin's love and Arthur would be left behind with nothing but the pieces of his own aching heart.

He had never meant to fall in love with his manservant. Even now, he could not pinpoint the day where the fondness of friendship had bloomed into more. It had taken this visit from Nemeth to slide it all into startling focus, and that alone was enough to make him feel like a fool. He had always believed love to be a whirlwind – clash and clamour to sweep a man off his feet. He had never thought it might be something soft and tender, cleaving deep roots through his bones even as it bloomed, bright and sure.

Arthur was many things, but a coward was not one of them. He'd meant to speak with Merlin, once Mithian left, but in the week since then he had been impossible to pin down. Now, he finally had him alone, but he could not utter a word. Not while Merlin was trapped under the thrall of whatever he had accidentally dosed himself with. 

No, for now, he would have to hold his silence, and hope that brighter days lay ahead for them both.

******

Sleep was like swimming through tar: black and sticky. It clung to him, pressing between his lips and threatening to drown him in its depths. More than once, Merlin struggled towards the light only to succumb once more. By the time he actually found wakefulness he felt as if he had been lost and wandering for days, utterly unmoored from the life he'd once had. The light had the golden, hazy quality of its final hour, but was the day the same, or had the night passed unnoticed?

He lay like a dead thing upon his pillows, one eye pressed to the linen and the other narrowed against the sun's intrusion. His head banged as if Cook had taken up residence in his skull and was throwing pots and pans around. It made it hard to concentrate, and as such he was happy to excuse the fact he'd overlooked Arthur sitting at his desk, tipping a quill back and forth idly in his grasp. There was paperwork scattered around him, etched with broken wax seals, but that was not what held his attention. Instead, he stared at something perched on the corner of the desk: a dark shape roughly the size of one of the barn cats.

Merlin had to blink several times before he could figure out what he was looking at: a little dragon settled on its haunches, its wings folded neatly over its back. He could have almost fooled himself into believing it was a statue except for the way the tip of its tail twitched.

A baffled noise pulsed in his throat, but making any sound turned out to be the worst sort of mistake. If he'd thought the pain in his head was bad before, it screeched up to impossible levels. His hands flew desperately to his temples, clutching at his skull as it battered down on him. Every muscle went tight, trying to weather the agony, but there was no escape from it. Vaguely, he heard Arthur's worried voice. The bed dipped, and he bobbed like a boat on a rough sea, one disastrous moment from sinking into the depths.

'Merlin?' A warm hand rested on his shoulder, but the sensation was as distant as starlight. The pain filled his mind to the brim, so severe it made him think, with brief and frightening longing, of the executioner's axe.

It took long moments of ragged breathing to ease himself back from the precipice. Unshed tears wet his lashes, and every breath felt too shallow. Yet, inch-by-inch, the roar of his discomfort eased back towards a steady growl, and he was able to focus on Arthur's frightened face.

'Head,' he whispered by way of explanation, hoping that Arthur would understand. His voice was gravel in his throat. 'Hurts.'

'Gaius said it might.' Arthur's words were soft, as if he understood how every noise scraped across Merlin's ears. 'He would offer you potions, but he's worried how they might react with whatever you dosed yourself with earlier. He advised we give it time.'

Merlin pursed his lips tight. He could understand Gaius' logic even if he did not like it, but that didn't do anything to help him with his current predicament. He was almost afraid to breathe in case the pain roused itself once more, and there was space for very little else in his mind but its presence.

'Do you think you can sit up? Gaius said it is important to drink as much water as you can.'

Merlin's next breath threatened to hitch on a sob, and he swallowed hard. 'I really don't want to,' he confessed, squinting up into Arthur's face. It was gratifying to see the sympathy that riddled those blue eyes. Normally, when Merlin complained, Arthur treated him with that same brash indifference that all knights seem to foster towards physical discomfort. Now, however, he looked truly sorry, which made Merlin wonder if he looked as bad as he felt.

'Stay where you are. I'll be right back.'

He blinked as Arthur collected together bits and pieces: a jug of water and a cup, a basin and a cloth, some morsels of food from the plates lain out on the table, as well as some pieces of paperwork. He set them all on the bedside table within easy reach before shrugging out of his jacket and rolling up his tunic sleeves. A moment later he sat on the edge of the bed, hauling off his boots. He set them quietly on the flagstones rather than letting them drop to the floor. If he felt a bit better, Merlin might have made a joke about him being considerate, for once. Instead, he could only manage a pathetic level of gratitude.

'What are you doing?' he rasped, blinking in confusion as Arthur brushed against the curtain and a butterfly the size of a small bird took flight. Its crimson wings flickered before it danced out of sight. Arthur did not so much as flinch at it, though the way he moved suggested he was aware of the delicate insect's presence. 'What's going on? The dragon...?'

'Turned up about a candle-mark ago. It likes to watch me work.' Arthur gave Merlin a thoughtful sort of look, as if he were some strategic problem that needed solving. 'As for what I'm doing, if I sit behind you, I can prop you up so you can drink. You can lean against my chest. It should make it easier for you, and with any luck, you'll only have to move once. Are you ready?'

Merlin blinked, wetting his lips as he realised he had no choice. His mouth was pasty, his thirst immense. His body cried out for water, but his head made it impossible to even raise a cup. There were protests, arguments, but they seemed far beyond his reach, and he allowed them to slip through his grasp like sand. Maybe some part of his pride should prickle at being rendered so completely helpless, but he didn't have the strength for that. Instead, he kept his palm pressed to his temple as he eased himself up onto one elbow in the tiniest of increments, giving Arthur a bit of space to rearrange the pillows and squeeze in behind him.

Immediately, the pain surged to life once more, and he managed a breathless curse, barely aware of Arthur's warmth or a strong hand over his shoulder, urging him to lean back until his head rested against Arthur's chest. The press of a cool cloth to his brow struck a counterpoint of sensation, and he tried to focus on the chill rather than the clamour that rattled around his skull.

'Relax,' Arthur urged, his voice like warm honey. Something in Merlin wanted to snap that it was impossible, but the words evaded him. Instead, he sagged back against Arthur's frame, his surrender absolute. Only a faint noise of confused protest caught in his throat, inspired by the subtle alarm that followed his own obedience. It was... strange. As if Arthur's words had slipped beneath his awareness and spoke to something deep within him, which had responded instantly. It made Merlin feel like a tormented passenger in his own body, and his next question was a reedy whisper.

'What's happening to me? Why am I...? Arthur, what's going on? It feels like I'm under some kind of spell.'

The thighs either side of his hips tensed, and the hand over his heart curled briefly in his tunic, creasing the fabric before falling lax. 'My apologies. Gaius said the potion might make you more prone to suggestion. I hadn't realised... Does it help if I phrase things as questions?'

There was still a faint hook to Arthur's words, something that hitched under Merlin's sternum and tugged, but it was less insistent. 'Yeah. It's not so bad.'

A faint huff of air stuttered Arthur's ribs, and his hand tightened in brief apology over Merlin's bicep: a reassuring squeeze. He did not immediately try and get him to drink something, but let Merlin regain his equilibrium, talking all the while.

'You've been asleep for a few candle-marks, no more. The day has faded.'

'But ...the dragon? The butterfly?' He screwed up one eye, trying to focus on the little creature that now perched on the back of the chair Arthur had vacated, watching them with gimlet eyes. It yawned, revealing a number of sharp teeth. 'You didn't say where they came from.'

'You made them while you were resting. Manifestations, Morgana called them. They're not the only ones, but so far, none are causing any harm. We got the unicorn out of the kitchens, and the nymph in the marketplace well seems perfectly happy where she is. I'm more worried about what the potion has done to you than what your magic is doing to Camelot.'

Arthur's thumb brushed against the side of his neck: an absent-minded caress that was surprisingly soothing. Part of Merlin wished he was in a better position to enjoy the contact, because for once there was no guise of horseplay. No shoving or teasing. Arthur treated him like something fragile, and Merlin relished it.

'I'll be all right,' he promised, blinking gritty eyes and letting out a shivering sigh. 'Serves me right for skiving off of council.'

Arthur's silence stretched a bit longer than was comfortable, as if he were chewing over his words only to dismiss them. When he did speak, it was a platitude, and Merlin got the impression it wasn't what he really wanted to say. 'You didn't miss anything of real importance. Can you drink some water now?'

'I can try.'

Arthur moved slowly, doing his best not to jostle either of them as he removed the cool cloth from Merlin's brow. He set it aside and grabbed the cup, holding it steady so that Merlin could drink. The tremor of Merlin's hands meant he'd only spill it all over himself if he tried. Instead, he let his fingers rest on Arthur's wrist as he sipped the cool water within, easing the dry ache in his throat.

'Thanks.'

'Gaius was insistent that water would help matters. I think he blames himself. Perhaps rightfully so.'

'I was the one who stopped stirring the potion.'

'A task he should not have given to you in the first place ,' Arthur grumbled. 'Not considering the risks. Did you even know what you were mixing?'

Merlin wrinkled his nose. 'Yeah. I mean I would have, if I thought about it. I was... distracted.' He turned his head, the better to hear the steady thud of Arthur's heart. He'd missed him, these past few weeks. He'd been so busy with Nemeth, and then whatever had happened to make Arthur pull away... For the first time in ages, he had him as a captive audience, but his head hurt too much to make use of it.

Instead, he stared at the dragon, who was now eyeing the butterfly as if it had every intention of snapping it up in its jaws. It was perfectly detailed. There were no fuzzy patches on its scales. It was as if the magic had put it together piece by piece and breathed life into it. Even the intelligence in its eyes seemed real, and Merlin wondered if it would actually fade when this was over.

'A unicorn in the kitchens?' he asked after a while. 'Really?'

'It was eating the vegetables.' Amusement curled through Arthur's voice. 'George seemed quite put out about it. Like I said, there's been nothing dangerous so far. A few magical creatures., that's all.'

It could definitely have been worse. Merlin had no notion what had guided his magic. Had he been dreaming, maybe? If so, clearly it had been nothing too unpleasant. There was plenty of scope for it to have been much worse. He should count himself lucky he'd not accidentally unleashed something horrible.

A shiver uncurled down his spine, rattling his teeth and making his head hurt. He shifted weakly beneath the quilt, trying to gather some heat next to him as another soon followed it. Arthur's hand rested on his brow, a gentle pressure, and when he spoke again, it sounded as if it were coming from very far away.

'Sleep more, if you can. You'll feel better in the morning.'

Except he did not make it to the dawn. This time, slumber was a shallow veil upon the world; the line between reality and fantasy blurred horribly. There were no butterflies, now, merely seething shadows full of cruel potential. Uther's voice, accusing him of sorcery. The heat of the flames. The glint of light off an axe raised to deliver the death blow. A citadel bathed in blood.

There were voices, now and then, just beyond the edge of his knowing. Gwen's quick words like the babble of water in a brook. Percival's reassurances: a solid foundation. Gwaine: tavern chatter and the rattle of dice, always willing to take a chance on a friend.

Arthur: sunlight's touch after far too long in the cold.

Sometimes he thought they spoke to him, but he couldn't focus on their words. They were like snowflakes, caught in his grasp only to melt away, leaving him alone once more, hiding from the hunt. He cowered in the gloom, his heart loud in his ears and every breath a rasp upon his lips. He did not know what sought him, only that it would be worse than death when it found him. Dread filled him to the brim. Fear was a noose around his neck, choking the life from him as the shadows thickened.

'Merlin, wake up!'

The hook of Arthur's command was gone, its barbs blunted. Instead, it was the urgency in his voice that pulled Merlin from sleep. He lay upon the pillows, gasping and drenched in sweat, shaking like a leaf as he struggled to comprehend the world around him. Arthur stood at the bedside, bent over him, his hands on his shoulders where he had shaken him awake.

'Are you with me?' Arthur whispered, sounding impossibly young – more frightened than Merlin had ever heard him. His grip bit into Merlin's arms, vice-tight. 'Say something.'

'What happened?'

'There was smoke. Blood. You were crying out. I thought –' Arthur sagged to the floor beside the bed, his knees thumping on the flagstones as he shook his head, unable to continue. 'You sounded as if you were dying.'

The dreams licked once more at the corner of his mind, and Merlin shuddered, forcing himself up on one elbow so he could stare around the room. He wasn't sure what he expected: flames consuming the tapestries, perhaps – his nightmares made real. Instead, his chambers looked benign. There was no dragon upon the chair. No butterfly drifted by on gossamer wings. All was quiet.

'Are you all right?' he managed, grimacing at the thud of his head. The pain was manageable, but it felt like his skull had been hollowed out. 'You're not hurt?' His fingers curled in Arthur's sleeve, clutching the fabric tight as he looked him over.

'I'm fine. The only one suffering is you.' Arthur tweaked his tunic free before catching Merlin's hand in his, brushing his thumb over the back of his knuckles. 'The other manifestations have faded: the unicorn, the nymph... There's been no reports of anything else.' He paused, his face pale before he turned towards the bedside, reaching out for the wet cloth with his empty hand. Merlin may be exhausted and pained, but he didn't miss how Arthur's hand shook as he wrung it out before swiping the damp fabric up the side of Merlin's throat.

When he pulled it back, the white was besmirched by blood's crimson stain, and Merlin blinked at it stupidly.

'There's no wound,' Arthur murmured. 'I suppose it's just a different sort of manifestation.'

Merlin slumped where he lay, too pained and weary to muster much in the way of reassurance. 'I was dreaming,' he whispered at last. 'A nightmare, really. Uther... I got caught.'

Arthur looked as if he had been punched in the gut, pasty and wheezing, yet his grip on Merlin's hand never faltered. They clung to each other, even as Arthur sagged against the side of the bed, watching Merlin with fathomless eyes.

'I'm sorry.' The apology rasped between Arthur's lips, pulsing with sentiment. 'I'm sorry that you lived in fear for so long. That it lingers, even now that magic is permitted once more. 'I wish...' He trailed off, shaking his head as his words failed him, leaving him bereft.

'It was never your fault.' Merlin shifted where he lay. Belatedly, he noticed the nest of blankets on the cold flagstone floor, and something wobbled in his chest. He had not noticed Arthur leave the bed. He must have been truly lost to sleep not to sense his departure. Yet despite that, Arthur had been sleeping close: watching over him despite the discomfort.

'Get up here,' he urged, easing back to make room. 'You'll catch your death on the floor.'

Maybe on a better day, Arthur might have argued. Yet, even pained, Merlin could see how the night's ordeal had hollowed him out. The depths of darkness had stripped away the trappings of rule to leave the man beneath exposed, vulnerable in his exhaustion and concern. It meant it was easier to drag Arthur into the middle of the bed when he tried to linger at its edges, and to poke and prod him under the covers when he attempted to remain beyond their warmth.

'Bossy,' Arthur chided when they finally lay side-by-side, facing one another with their knees knocking. It was a quiet little reprimand, but there was no fire behind it. Only that fond teasing which Merlin knew so well. Yet it soon faded away, replaced by lines of concern. 'I would never hurt you.' He frowned as Merlin shot him a baffled look. 'The pyre. The headsman. I would never do that to you.'

'Gods, Arthur. I know. It's never you in the dreams, it's Uther, and it's stupid to have nightmares about a dead man who can do me no harm, but...'

'But you spent years hiding from him; your whole life concealing what you are from everyone, because my father's ideas about sorcery did not limit themselves to Camelot's borders.' Arthur sighed, a weak and weary sound. 'You stayed because a dragon told you it was your duty to protect me.'

'I stayed because I wanted to.'

'Did you?'

Merlin pursed his lips, ignoring the faint tug of the question. It was weaker now, fading as the night sky beyond the windows began to take on dawn's pallor. He had told Arthur of the prophecy. They rarely spoke of it, having decided they would walk their own path, but it haunted them still.

This, though, he could answer honestly, not because of some fading compulsion, but because the truth was right there in his heart.

'Yeah, Arthur, I did. I still do.' He frowned, not missing the shadow of doubt that darted across Arthur's features, nor the way that he wasn't quite meeting his eyes. He looked hunched where he lay, as if he were trying to spare himself from some almighty blow. 'There's nowhere else I would rather be.'

For a while, he thought Arthur wouldn't say anything else, but at last a quiet question slipped through the air.

'Not even Nemeth?'

'What?' Merlin blinked, scrunching his face up in confusion, but before he could say anything more, Arthur shook his head, speaking hurriedly.

'Nothing. It's nothing. We can't talk about this now, not while you're still under the effects of what happened in the healing rooms. It wouldn't be fair to you and I – I'd never know if I could really believe your answers. It can wait.'

Merlin hoped his expression managed to convey that Arthur was full of shit. He didn't know what was going on, but he could see the urgent, miserable tension in the body next to his. After all these years, he knew Arthur better than he knew himself. "Later" would become "never", and whatever was going on would continue to fester until it tore them apart.

'Tell me to do something.'

Arthur's eyes darted up to his face. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. 'Ask me to leave.'

'No.' A quick flicker of triumph raced through him at his own ability to deny the command, and he reached out to clasp Arthur's wrist before he could withdraw. His head still hurt and his body ached, but he could bully his way through it if it meant getting some straight answers. 'The potion's worn off, or near enough. Now start talking. Gaius said something about Nemeth earlier. It's what started this whole mess. What's going on?'

Arthur pressed his lips tight, like a child who did not want to answer, but Merlin saw the moment of defeat. It etched its lines across that handsome face, and when he spoke, it was in little more than a murmur. 'You and Mithian seemed very close, while she was here. There were rumours in the court that you and she might be involved with each other. Believable ones. I thought perhaps you might decide to put Camelot behind you.'

Merlin drew in a sip of air, not even sure where to start. It was tempting to tease or make a joke out of it, except that Arthur looked grief-stricken. He was trying to hide it behind a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow, but it made itself plain all the same.

'You should know better than to listen to gossip by now.'

'I have eyes, Merlin. I could see it for myself. You spent every spare moment with her!'

'Because she's my friend, and a guest, and actually decent at conversation, unlike some people. You were busy with Rodor, and then you started avoiding me like I had something contagious!'

'As if you're any better! As soon as they were gone you went out of your way to never be in the same room as me!'

'I was taking the hint that you didn't want to be around me and giving you space!' His head panged in sullen warning, and he lowered his voice. Maybe Arthur was right – perhaps this was not the best time to have it out about whatever had soured between them, but life rarely offered up a perfect moment. He would have to be satisfied with this instead. 'Please, Arthur. For once in your life, use your words and say what you mean?'

Arthur glanced down the bed towards the door, as if he were giving seriously thought to simply fleeing the scene. Dawn's light had strengthened steadily, hints of silver turning gold at their edges. The first sounds of the servants stirring from their beds gilded the air, but they went unheeded. The struggle was visible on Arthur's face, the desire for honesty at war with his father's constant teachings to never show anything akin to vulnerability. Yet Arthur had never shied battle, and it was clear he was not about to start now.

'I don't want you to go.' The confession sounded like it had been wrenched out of him by force, but he lifted his chin as if daring Merlin to comment.

'I haven't gone anywhere.'

'But you might, one day.' Arthur shook his head, his hair whispering against the pillow. 'I avoided you while Mithian was here because I didn't want to spoil your happiness with my... feelings. I was painfully tempted to keep you away from her. To keep you, regardless of how you might feel. I did not want to be selfish. Then, when she left and you stayed, suddenly you were nowhere to be found. I kept trying to find a moment to speak with you, but...' He shook his head. 'You always seemed so keen to make your escape.'

'Because I thought you didn't want me around.' Merlin's heart gave an awkward lurch before fluttering helplessly, exhilaration and uncertainty swirling through him. Arthur was a jealous prat; he'd seen it before, but this was different. This seemed like more than just a sulk over having to share Merlin's attentions. Arthur didn't sound as if he mourned the potential loss of a friend. It went deeper than that; he could feel the shape of it, but he barely dared to believe what he was hearing.

Cautiously, he eased himself closer, his hand bridging the space between them. He didn't clutch at him, but merely rested there, skin-to-skin as he began to speak. 'Do you want to know what Mithian and I were talking about?' He raised his eyebrows as Arthur shrugged. 'You. Or, more accurately, me and you. She noticed, the first time she was here that I wasn't exactly... civil.' He rolled his eyes. 'I was jealous of her and did a piss-poor job of hiding it.'

That got Arthur's attention. He looked up, a faint frown upon his brow as he listened.

'She wanted to know if things had changed now that I'm Court Sorcerer, rather than your servant. Between us, I mean. When I said no, she – I don't know. Decided I needed someone to talk to, I guess.'

The pop of an ember in the grate punctuated the silence, and Merlin pursed his lips, waiting.

'You were jealous of Mithian?' Arthur managed at last, looking as if he barely dared to believe it. 'Why didn't you say something?'

'Because you were the prince and I was a servant? Because you didn't know about my magic, and I was too afraid to tell you?' Merlin shrugged. 'Then, once that secret came out, there never seemed to be the right moment to say anything. It just... it seemed easier to stay quiet. Safer.' Maybe that made him a coward, but safety was something he had craved for as long as he could remember. Things had been good, brilliant even. He had not wanted to upset their hard-won balance with his quiet longing.

'And now?' Arthur sounded breathless, as if he were waiting for the sting in the tail in Merlin's confession – to be told again, as his father told him all his life, that he was somehow unworthy.

Merlin swallowed. 'I think that depends on you.'

The sheets offered a quiet whisper of Arthur's hand as it drifted across the mattress. His fingers slid over Merlin's knuckles, wrapping his fingers in his grasp as he eased closer, slow and steady, as if unsure of his welcome. It made Merlin smile, because it was rare to see Arthur hesitant about anything. Now, though, he was happy to meet him halfway. They were, both of them, still dressed in their clothes, now sleep-wrecked and creased, but he could feel the heat of Arthur's thighs against his own and the subtle camber of his chest pressing into Merlin's with every breath they took.

'Us.' Arthur smiled, a delicious little curl that spread into a grin. 'I think it depends on us.' He lifted his other hand to rest it against Merlin's jaw, warm and callused, familiar and perfect. There was no trace of demand in Arthur's touch, only comfort, and beneath that a gleaming thread of desire, shifting to catch the light. 'Can I kiss you?'

Joy was like the dawn in Merlin's chest, a sudden bright surge, and he could not stifle his grin as he ducked his head, looking up at Arthur through his lashes. 'I thought you would never ask.'

It was like taking the first breath after too long underwater: the world shifting sideways, twisting a fraction until it came into startling, perfect focus. He had spent more years than he cared to count wishing he could call Arthur's heart his own. Now, Arthur's lips were warm against his, tender and soft, careful and loving. Perhaps he was not the kind of man to often put his feelings into words, but Arthur's devotion wrote itself in his kiss, and Merlin's heart soared.

He did not know where this journey might take them. He only knew that they would walk it together, hand-in-hand and side-by-side.

Together, as they were always meant to be.

[scriveyner]

A Tale of Two Christmas Fics

Nothing new this year, but enjoy some past BSD Christmas fics:

Akutagawa had his elbow braced against where the door met the window and his head tilted against his hand, observing Atsushi’s wonderment. “I did not laugh,” he said dryly, and Atsushi stuck his tongue out at Akutagawa before turning his attention back to the view. “I merely wonder if you have ever actually been out of Yokohama before.” “I have.” “Mm.” Akutagawa didn’t sound like he believed Atsushi, but whatever, screw him. He’d been like this on the plane too, radiating this air of smug superiority at his worldliness because the number of times Atsushi had been on an airplane and had not had to unexpectedly exit mid-flight, he could still count on one hand. Atsushi was allowed to enjoy this experience, even if it was, technically, work.

illuminate | 16k | nsfw/E | sskk

“Well, you found me,” he said, brushing snow off the shoulders of his suitcoat. “What was so important that you had to spam my phone with notifications and then show up when I didn’t respond?” “It is Christmas Eve.” “Yeah, for like another hour.” Atsushi finally looked back over to Akutagawa, and he was wearing a curious expression, staring at Atsushi silently, mouth pressed into a flat line. It all hit him suddenly like he’d wandered into the path of a train. “Did you…you wanted to spend Christmas Eve together?" A long, long pause. “With me?”

oh christmas lights, keep shining on | 3.5k | M | sskk

I hope everyone has a safe and joyous holiday season, and a wonderful new year!

[transgaysex]

guys tomorrow is my last day of my first year of 3d animation . im sooooo tired but really excited and nervous

[bleue-flora]

Why I think c!Dream is Autistic - Part 3

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

Alright, you’re gonna want to probably go read part 1 and 2 first, promise they aren’t too long.

Done? Long time no see buddy. :) Good deal. Now finally, the last reason(s) I think Dream is autistic is because of how it fits narratively.

Who better to frame as the villain than someone who is already on the outside, who is already different, weird, a little off, not like everyone else, obsessive, abrasive, and already setting off subconscious red flags of not fitting the norm. There’s a quote that most have probably heard by Andrew Smith that says, “People fear what they don't understand and hate what they can't conquer.” And does that not say it all? Talk about history repeating itself, real history. This truth is the basis of many real wars. And if communicating and thinking differently weren’t enough to garner dislike, sucess and intelligence are another foundation of hate and as I said in part 1, while not true across the board, high IQ is one way they identify people with ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). So who better to frame as the villain than an autistic admin infamous for being one of the best Minecraft players.

Of course, I hear you ask - couldn’t you make the same argument for sociopaths/people with ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder) are they not also different than most people to garner inherent fear? The answer is: No, not really. Contrary to popular belief, people with ASPD are not the odd balls out but are more likely to be popular and well liked as they lie and manipulate others to get what they want. In other words, there is a more calculated persona/masking in both ASD and ASPD, but while ASD is just trying to fit in, people with ASPD often have an inherent entitlement to the things they want and are trying to gain power and stand above the crowd not in it. In addition, autistic people tend to be honest, to the point of inappropriate or rude because they are straight forward. In the dsmp, Dream’s default isn’t to lie in fact he tells a lot of truth before often being forced to change his answer [clip]. Unlike people with ASPD who lie because they enjoy the power it gives them and to get what they want.

There is of course empathy to be considered when comparing ASD and ASPD as perhaps the main difference between the two and I think there is a lot of evidence that Dream does have empathy. In fact, I think his moral compass is originally one of the strongest before the dsmp slowly wore away the edges. He returns items after wars, fixes creeper holes and destroyed property, helps people mine or gather materials, fights for the side of who was wronged first, constantly gives out food to feed people… etc. He does a lot of caring things he doesn’t have too. That give him no real advantage, but often even end up putting him in a sticky situation. I mean what better example do we need to prove he has empathy than him rebuilding Tubbo’s house [post]. There was no reason or manipulation or obligation to do that, he did it because he saw that Tubbo was upset. I mean I’ve said it before that we can’t truly prove whether someone does or doesn’t has empathy, but we can look at behavior and I’d argue that his less empathetic acts come much later on his arc and are not consistent across the board like they would be if he truly were a sociopath. Leaving us with the most obvious conclusion then that his logical mind that makes him look like he’s unempathetic and his masking must be because he’s autistic instead, which again aligns well with his high intelligence and obsessive development of skill.

Finally, and perhaps most notably, while a lot of times masking is associated with ADHD it is much more notable and important for an autistic person. Because we are not masking just to cover up our stimming or hyperactivity we are putting on a different face to blend in and be accepted and loved. We are shifting the very parts of ourselves to fit in a circle shaped hole when we’re squares. Which is a skill and habit I don’t find it hard to believe that Dream would use for his villain persona, especially since our (my) masks tend to change too based on environment, whether needing to fit into the family dynamic, student culture or professional world where the social rules change. Which is exactly what we see from Dream as his mask changes depending on who he’s with whether that be Tommy, a large audience, Wilbur, his friends, The Warden, Quackity, Badboyhalo, Techno… etc.

In other words, how fitting would it be if a character with the disorder infamous for masking had a literal mask. One that he literally had to take off to discovery who he was all along. What better example of the dsmp main theme of seeing things from other peoples point of view to gain understanding, than the extreme case of that. What better picture of communication issues than a disorder infamous for social struggle. Like not only does it fit so very well with Dream’s character, not only does it make sense with the symbolism of his mask, and the narrative, but it fits the overall arching dsmp story too, because by being autistic Dream is kind of like the ultimate version of the theme and for him to be a main front runner of the story just truly drives the point home in a beautiful and important manner.

[inga-don-studio]

Since I pretty much tore the headcrab zombie mask down to just the base yesterday, I'm trying to figure out the best angle & pose for the new rigid forelimbs. I want them to look like they're jabbing into the host's chest while at rest and in an aggressive threat display when raised. I think I finally got it looking about how I want it, at least from the side profile-

[fr0stbearer]

got a 79 on my economics finals i need to jump off a cliff 😂

[apollos-boyfriend]

SPARKLEZ!

You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. Or maybe you would. What do I know?

Worlds upon worlds of wonder have embraced my many selves. I'm living a thousand lives at once. And those are just the lives I'm aware of. For instance, in a place called Middle Earth I am reborn a beautiful elf queen. And under the ice shield of a moon called Europa I am a strand of plankton. And in a world we both know well, I'm a bunch of little girls who look just like me, and maybe other things too... Anyway, my umbrella consciousness has reformed for just a moment; my caretaker, in his mercy, has allowed me to show you these things.

But you definitely won't believe the most amazing thing I've seen. Lately I've been looking through a window... A window into bygone years. A man sits in front of a screen, speaking his soul to the world while playing a game. I think I know who he is!

I see this man forming friendships with those who also speak to the world. I know who they are too. They project themselves as tiny box figures into a world made of boxes. It's so much less detailed than the world where the man and his friends sit. I would not have known Ruxomar and it's sister dimensions to be so childlike in appearance except by this contrast!

The days go on as the friends play. The boxlike world is ruled by two gods. Of course I know who they are. The man is faced with a choice between the two. His life is riddled with choices! And like the stubborn idealist he is, he carves out a middle path. He'll take neither god. He'll have a goddess all to his own.

He created me.

A man named Jordan Maron created the goddess Ianite in a world beyond worlds. And Jordan Maron looks just like you. He is one of your countless alternate selves. He looks so much less boxy! I think that if I did not already know you and Spark so well, I would call him my favorite version.

Now I grasp the truth I have been seeking all my life. I have see what is above gods. It is ____________.

My umbrella consciousness won't hold much longer. Let me say a few choice words before the final goodbye between this version of you and this version of me. Thank you for choosing to create me. I believe that had the other you not made that choice in that far off world, none of my present selves would exist. In a strange sense, you are my god. Thank you for believing in your creation enough to make it real. Thank you for continuing to love me and make choices for my wellbeing. I hope another you loves another me in another world soon.

If Jordan looks out the window one of these days, he might be able to see me.

Not even creeping. Just fyi.

Forever Your Lady

[comfortlesshurt]

well, I wasn't expecting to already be so far along when I set the goal but uh

goal for the end of 2025 is to have a higher published word count for Voltron than for Spider-Man, and VLD is already at 40% of my final S-M word count (assuming I don't finish and post any last S-M WIPs)

[duskerot]

just sprayed all my parts with sealant so ill be able to start painting tomorrow !!! never done it before so im hoping it works alright 😵‍💫

[kathaynesart]

It is done! *falls down*

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT (SOON) MASTER POST

I have... so much to say on so many different things but it is 2:30 in the morning so I will keep this as brief as possible. First off, thank you to all my mom friends and mutuals who helped me with accurately portraying and normalizing the experience of giving birth. It is wonderful, and painful, and gross, and beautiful. I apologize if it made any readers squeamish (and I know there were a few gross jokes in there) but considering how gross the tv show got, I think it remained true to the overall vibe!

Second, I wanted to talk about the concept of "hope" in this story. When I first watched the movie, I felt like the idea of hope being their greatest weapon seemed sort of heavy handed and cheesy. However, after watching the ending of the show again I realized that hope is actually a huge reoccurring element in the story and a big part of what it means to be of the Hamato clan. Doubly so, I wanted Casey Junior in a way to symbolize that hope for Leo specifically, so when Leo talks about hope in the beginning of the movie, he's not just talking about some vague concept, but Casey Junior himself. He is their greatest weapon and he doesn't even realize it.

Thirdly, so uh... Casey Junior. I apologize if it had seemed out of left field, but do know that the decision of his origins was not made lightly. The shear similarity in his facial structure to Lou Jitsu as well as several other factors that I will refrain from stating due to future spoilers was too numerous to ignore! It is an integral part of his story for reasons that will go unsaid for now, and no, he does not know he's distantly related to them. Also, Big Mama! Been holding onto her concept for some time now! I loved the idea of her mystic broach becoming damaged so she can only be cloaked to a certain degree, making for an interesting blend of both her forms. She was really fun to figure out!

Finally thank you everyone for your patience. This special turned into quite the endeavor with most of the updates exceeding 20 pages each, but I'm so happy I was able to finish it... even if it did take so much longer than my projected hope. I can't wait to get back to the main storyline, though I shall miss these silly, overpowered boys. We got a lot of ground to cover and I'll likely be posting a summarized reminder before continuing. ...and after I finish work on some Zines and the holiday special winning commission!

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[dollyichi]

THREE PEAS IN A POD . . . husband ! katsuki bakugou featuring your two babies / f ! reader / fluff / the both of you are already parents!

katsuki definitely prides himself in having two beautiful babies and the family you built together.

one girl, one boy (he’s older just a bit), and it’s funny how despite you being the one carrying them for 9 months his genes won in a landslide. however, your baby boy has eyes just like yours!

what you didn’t know, was how much they actually took after their dad. it was beyond their physical attributes.

katsuki finally had a day off and as much as you wanted to skip work that day and spend time with them, the projects just kept piling up that you couldn’t even fake a cold.

he reassures you that he can handle them.

katsuki’s woken up by his two little runts, shaking him in excitement. he’d pretend to sleep for a bit, peeking with one eye open to see them frowning at each other because he’s taking too long to ‘wake up.’ only to sit up and grab them. they squeal in surprise as he pulls them down to his chest, twisting and turning—putting them other the covers, already having so much fun at the start of the day.

after he made them breakfast he wanted to take them out to the mall, spoil them a little bit. they were really well behaved (something you taught them well!) and didn’t fuss even when they missed you. thinking that if they’re sad you’re not here, daddy will get sad too and they wouldn’t want that—today’s supposed to be a happy day!

at the mall he’d get a few compliments and whispers from moms and fans. how they look so much like him, how they even walk like him! it’s really adorable how he made them wear matching outfits, even sunglasses! two mini bakugou’s!

but genetics weren’t the only thing they got from him you see. they visited all types of shops, getting a few things of what they want here and there because katsuki always said to “just get anything you want.” their eyes are so bright and full of excitement. he has to slouch a bit while they’re walking hand in hand, bringing him to every aisle they take an interest in while he follows happily.

still, a phrase would always pop up from one of them. “maybe mommy would like this!” or “should we buy these for mommy too?” and they’d be showing it to him so proudly he’s almost melting. feeling so proud that a part of his love for you transferred onto them as well. they’re absolutely his kids, no doubt about it. ends up getting everything they wanted to get for you.

doesn’t even care if it’s obvious that you’re their favorite. chuckling to himself that the bags he’s carrying is mostly stuff the kids picked out for you. besides, you never asked for anything, but they listen real well, just like their father. “i hope mommy’s happy with all the things we got her!” your daughter says while he helps her with her seatbelt. “she definitely will be.”

and when you get home you see he’s watching them from the couch as they set on their little chairs drawings happily. when they realize you were there all three of then stands up to greet you. and you give each of them a kiss.

when you helped sort out some of their ‘shopping’ you see a this really expensive coat that you were eyeing just a week ago while your little girl slept on your lap (you didn’t know she was peeking from time to time).

you’re so happy you ended up hugging him so tightly, “oh my katsuki, how’d you know?” and he would shake his head with a smile, “i didn’t pick that one babe, she did.”

yeah, they definitely take after him at least eighty percent!

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : papa katsuki cradling his little ones in each of his arms while carrying the bags without the need of a shopping cart… i’d be asking for baby number 3 idk what to name these two ><

spin off — late send with todoroki shouto <3