#she kept suggesting ways to make it prettier or ‘give it a glow up’

[sexshopshenanigans]

In a vacuum? Yeah, I agree that makeup can be a value-neutral art form! But in practice, please forgive me for not entirely believing all the “makeup is empowering! makeup is just for me! this is war paint!” arguments from people who aren’t comfortable going out in their bare face, aren’t comfortable taking and posting photos of themselves in a bare face, and are unwilling or unable to create art that isn’t conventionally pretty.

it’s been said so many times but it IS genuinely depressing to talk about how cosmetics are predatory and meant to make women more consumable and are pushed. but there always has to be someone saying “well i LIKE wearing makeup and look good in it so actually it’s empowering and if you critique this multi-billion dollar industry and its insidious nature you’re anti-feminist/hate women :/” like. We are not getting out of this alive, i fear

[catradoramma]

how about a fic of Adora noticing being the jealous one after noticing other women give Catra attention.

i have been getting prompts like this since Mine, and honestly, hell yea. i deadass started working on this in 2019 and well. its finally finished. this is who i am folks. thanks so much to @kittens-and-foxes, @magicchalkdust, and lunatica (ao3) for the prompts! prompts are still open! i’m just a slave to writers block. evidently

Oh, How the Turntables

|  Rated: T  |  Words: 2,604  |  Chapter: 1/1  |

Adora was not a jealous person. She was confident with where she was in her life and always had been. Trying her best and being proud of that was something that was basically sewn into her DNA.

Adora was not jealous. Never had been, and never would be.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was just…a little upset.

Or how Adora handles being jealous. A significantly less fun sequel to Mine. 

| ao3 | buy me a kofi |

Adora was not a jealous person. She was confident with where she was in her life and always had been. Trying her best and being proud of that was something that was basically sewn into her DNA.

Adora was not jealous. Never had been, and never would be.

She wasn’t jealous.

She was just…a little upset.

It wasn’t really that big of a deal. Honestly it wasn’t a big deal at all. In fact it wasn’t even a deal at all. Catra was just making friends. Which Adora, for the record, was extremely happy about.

Catra was making friends with some of the people in the Royal Guard at Bright Moon and it was awesome! People were accepting her! And, like, treating her with respect like she obviously deserves as a literal war hero! So naturally, Adora was happy to hear this. Adora was enthused!

Obviously, okay?

It’s just that Catra had recently become closer with a few of her friends in the Royal Guard which meant they were out all day training and running drills, and then out all night getting drinks and singing bar shanties or whatever soldiers did together. Adora was so glad that Catra was fitting in and being accepted. That goes without saying.

But.

Adora also really, really, really missed her girlfriend.

Like.

Adora missed her a lot.

As simple as that.

Although, it didn’t help that one of Catra’s new friends was the totally smart, pretty and badass Captain Kassandra. And it also didn’t help that Captain Kassandra was definitely Catra’s best friend in the guard which meant Catra and Captain Kassandra were spending the majority of their days together.

Alone.

And it’s not like Adora thought anything would happen! Catra would never cheat, okay? She wouldn’t! She just might...you know. Realize that Captain Kassandra was so, so much better, and smarter, and stronger, and prettier, and cooler than Adora.

And Catra might want to break up.

Which Adora definitely didn’t want.

— . —

“Hey, Catra?” Adora called as she was pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

“Yeah?” Catra called from the closet where she was trying to decide between two identical burgundy sports bras.

“I was, uh,” Adora paused as she grabbed her hair tie with her teeth off her wrist. “I was thinking that it might be fun if we went out tonight? Go into town and grab dinner or something? Have a little date?” She asked with a tentative smile as she finished tying off her hair.

Catra turned to face her properly, lowering both sports bras. “Tonight?” She asked, not sounding excited like Adora had thought she’d be.

The lack of enthusiasm made Adora a little nervous. She licked her lips and continued. “Yeah. We’ve both been really busy lately, and I finally have a night off from--you know--She-Ra stuff. So I was, you know, just wondering if we could, I don’t know. Go on a date,” Adora bumbled, her nerves getting to her the longer she went without an answer.

“Shit, tonight?” Catra asked, her shoulders slumping alongside Adora’s heart. “I can’t. I have a game tonight.”

“Wait, you have a what tonight?” Adora asked, immediately confused.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I meant to tell you. Me and the Guard started up a Softball team. Bright Moon Royal Guard against Entrapta’s Robot Army,” Catra explained, a little smile curling up her lips which Adora knew meant that Catra had really been enjoying playing Softball.

Adora was, admittedly, a little hurt by the fact that Catra hadn’t even thought to tell her about this. Adora was always super supportive of everything Catra did and would have loved the opportunity to cheer her on in a very literal and vocal way.

But, Adora supposed, she had been really busy with She-Ra stuff lately so it made sense that Catra forgot to mention things. Especially when they really only saw each other at dinner and when they got in and out of bed everyday.  

Adora pushed down her hurt feelings and pressed on. “Alright, well. When’s the game? I’ll come and maybe we could grab a bite or something after,” she suggested.

Catra winced. “After games, C.K. usually buys everyone a burger,” Catra explained. C.K. So we’re calling Captain Kassandra C.K. now. Adora suddenly craved physical violence.

Catra continued, not noticing Adora’s mounting frustration. “It’s like--I don’t know--a team bonding thing,” Catra explained with a shrug. “You could come to the game though! I’ll hit a homer for you,” she added, sending Adora a deliciously wicked grin that Adora couldn’t even enjoy due to the slowly mounting rage within her.

Adora took a deep breath, suppressing the anger for the time being, and forced a smile. “That sounds awesome, babe. I’ll….be there for the game then.”

Catra grinned at that and darted over to press a kiss to Adora’s cheek. “I’ll look for you in the stands,” she said, practically glowing with happiness, and just like that, all of Adora’s rage and jealousy melted away. This was something Catra enjoyed. Having friends and maintaining them was important to Catra. So it was important to Adora.

Adora turned and stole a proper kiss from Catra. “Leave your alternate jersey for me and I’ll wear it,” she suggested with a soft smile.

Catra nodded eagerly before she disappeared back into the closet. She came back out wearing one of Adora’s white and blue sports bras, and, honestly, that made everything a little better.

— . —

Adora had no idea how Softball worked, but Gods, was she becoming a fan quickly. Everything from the tight white pants Catra wore, to the slashed up cap she wore to let her ears through was doing things for Adora. Adora was pretty sure she was actually learning less about Softball the longer she spent in the stands. Probably because she was happily staring at Catra’s ass instead of the game.

The whole experience probably would have been a net positive if it wasn’t for what happened at the very end of the game. Catra must’ve hit a particularly impressive ball (Adora wasn't exactly paying attention to the ball or where it was going as much as she was focusing on where the hitter was going and doing) because as she dashed around the diamond, everyone around her was cheering and freaking out. The Bright Mood Guard left the make-shift dugout and ran onto the pitch. They swarmed Catra as she passed home. They all wrapped her in a hug before Captain Kassandra tossed her up into the air and then sat Catra on her shoulder.

Jealousy burned inside of Adora. That was Adora’s move! Adora was absolutely the only one allowed to toss Catra into the air and catch her on her shoulder! Why the hell was someone else doing that?! Was this a common thing? Did Captain Kassandra toss Catra all the time?

Adora was about three seconds away from going full-on beast mode on the Captain. The only thing that stopped her was the way Catra pulled her cap off in celebration, waving it excitedly in Adora’s direction. The elation on Catra’s face—the pure joy that was clear from whatever game-winning hit she’d made—was entirely enough to cool Adora’s temper.

Catra looked radiant out there. And she deserved to be praised like that. She deserved to be celebrated and loved by her friends. Adora wanted that for Catra so badly, and if it wasn’t for the ugly jealous monster that was living rent free inside of her for whatever reason, Adora was sure she’d 100% be just as happy as Catra was in that moment.

So, with her mind made up, Adora grinned and waved back. She cupped her hands around her mouth and cheered loudly. She made a heart with her hands and held it up above her head for Catra to see. Catra must’ve seen it because she blushed a little darker and bit her lip in a way that made Adora’s blood burn in a very different way.

If only Adora wouldn’t have to go home alone after the game.

— . —

Adora decided to wait up for Catra. She wanted to show Catra exactly how proud of her game-winning home-run she was. Adora lit candles around their room while she waited, and even changed into some of the more frilly underwear she owned for nights exactly like this. She kept Catra’s jersey on, though, and made herself comfortable in bed to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Adora waited long after the sun went down behind the back hills, long after the candles burned down to nubs, and long after the lacey bra she wore became too uncomfortable to continue wearing. Adora didn’t want to admit defeat, but eventually the mood was lost, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

It was with a new level of bitterness, and a little heartbreak, that Adora cleaned up the candles, slipped into pyjamas, and put Catra’s jersey away. This time when Adora curled up into bed, she didn’t wait. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

If the smell of candle smoke was still in the air when Catra got back, then so what.

— . —

Adora felt very off for the rest of that week. She hadn’t even heard Catra come in that night, and when she woke up, Catra was curled up into a ball on her own side of the bed. Something about not even waking up in Catra’s arms left a sour taste in her mouth.

Adora knew, logically, that Catra hadn’t made her any promises to come back early that night. She had said that she’d be out with the team, and Adora had agreed to that. It was just that...after a game like that, the first one Adora had gone to, shouldn’t Catra have wanted to come home and celebrate with Adora? Shouldn’t she have at least come back at a decent hour? Catra had only said that she’d be getting dinner with her team. Did getting burgers really take that long?

What else had Catra been doing out there?

That thought alone was enough to leave Adora in a horrible mood for the rest of the week.

She destroyed many straw filled dummies, and snapped at anyone who so much as thought about asking her what was wrong, including Catra.

Especially Catra.

Adora hadn’t been in this bad of a mood since the war--since the time she hadn’t slept for weeks at a time.

And the worst part? Adora knew she was being unreasonable. She knew she was being dramatic and was definitely blowing things out of proportion. It was just that—

The jealous little monster that lived in her mind rent free was slowly taking over.

— . —

Adora was lounging in the bath, trying to make herself feel better though aggressive self-care, when she heard Catra come in. It was already late into the evening. Adora would usually be in bed this time of night, and Adora was beginning to think (unreasonably) that Catra was coming back late on purpose.

“Adora?” Catra called as she noticed the bed was empty. She sounded a little afraid and suddenly Adora was just tired. And sad. And frustrated. She was so, so frustrated with herself and this stupid situation. She didn’t want to be upset at Catra anymore.

“In here!” Adore called back as she moved her hands a little anxiously through the bubbles still floating on the surface.

Catra appeared in the doorway and smiled tentatively. She looked concerned and tired.

“Hey,” Adora said softly.

“Hey,” Catra repeated, her voice just as soft.

“How was your night?” Adora asked. “I missed you at dinner.”

Catra’s shoulders dropped a little and she nodded. She stepped into the bathroom and sat down on the floor right next to the tub, her knees pulled up to her chest as she looked at Adora. Catra looked small like that. Small and afraid.

“Missed you too,” Catra said back, her voice just above a whisper.

Adora bit her lip a little anxiously and had to look away. She couldn’t look at Catra knowing she was the one who made her feel uncertain like this. But...wasn’t it because Adora herself felt uncertain that this whole thing had happened?

Adora pulled in a deep breath and forced herself to look back at Catra. “I’m sorry I’ve been...rough this week,” she said.

Catra leaned her head onto the side of the tub. “Are you gonna tell me what I did?” Catra asked, her voice soft and non-judgemental.

“Catra you didn’t...do anything,” Adora said. “And...well. That’s the problem. I feel like we never see each other anymore. I feel like we don’t talk.”

Catra straightened up, her shoulders coming up in a defensive stance. It was clear she was afraid of what else was coming from this conversation. Adora reached out and placed her hand on top of one of Catra’s knee.

“I just really miss you Catra. All the time, even when I wake up next to you,” Adora admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Catra said immediately, her ears pressing back flat onto her head. “I…”

“Hey, no, I should have said something—” Adora said but Catra cut her off, her eyes wide in realization.

“Oh my gods,” Catra breathed. “You did say something. You wanted—and I totally just brushed you off to hang out with the Guard. Adora—” Catra spoke frantically, and it was Adora who cut her off this time.

“Catra, hey, no,” Adora said as she moved closer. “No, you didn’t brush me off. You just. You’ve never had a really solid group of friends before. Of course you got caught up. I like that you have these people who like you and want to hang out with you. I’ve been so busy lately and I’ve been so thankful that you’ve found these people to keep you company when I can’t,” Adora said honestly.

“It’s just that...I’m not used to having to share your attention. And it’s...it’s making me feel a little insecure—which I hate. I don’t want to be jealous of your friends. I don’t want to keep you away from them,” she admitted, looking at her hands now, ashamed of how she was feeling.

Catra reached out and threaded their fingers. “Adora…” she breathed softly as she squeezed Adora’s hand. “You should have said something, dummy,” she said affectionately, reaching out with her free hand to smooth Adora’s hair back and turn her face up.

“I’ve only been spending so much time with those idiots because I’ve been wanting to give you space to relax,” Catra admitted. “I thought that having me around, wanting your attention after you’d had to listen to people bitch and complain all day would just cause you more stress.” She leaned forward some more to press a kiss to Adora’s lips softly. “I’ve been missing you too, Adora.”

Adora let out a sigh of relief, and then a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. She shot forward and wrapped her arms around Catra in a hug, holding her tight. “You’re sure you’re not unhappy with me? You wouldn’t rather be with C.K.?” Adora asked, finally voicing her deepest concerns.

“What?” Catra asked softly as she held Adora tighter, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that she was getting soaked by the bath. “Adora, Captain Kass is married. To a man. And besides that, I don’t want anyone but you. You make me happier than anything.”

Adora let out another sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m so glad,” she breathed as she pressed her face into Catra’s neck.

— . —

That little jealous monster was finally evicted.

[sindrafalcone]

Secret Valentine...

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Kwon Jiyong (G Dragon) x reader

Synopsis: Jiyong finally figures out his secret Valentine

Warnings: fluffiness, candy induced fluffiness

Author’s Note: Finally finished this belated Valentine’s fluff piece! Maybe Jiyong will leave me be for now so I can go back to writing Seunghyun. lol My apologies for the lateness. But I hope you guys still enjoy!

Suggested Listening: ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work. I do not own any images used.

Masterlist

From his place on the floor of the YG mens locker room, partially hidden behind some empty boxes, Jiyong yawned as quietly as he could & checked the time on his phone. 5am. That meant that most of  the early employees should start arriving soon. He felt himself smile and excitement bubbled up in his chest. This time he was finally going to figure it out...

The chocolates had begun mysteriously appearing in his locker on Valentine's day of 2007. Bigbang had made their debut, but hadn't quite managed to find that hit song that he was so sure he'd be able to write sooner or later.

After an incredibly long and tiring day of dance practice he'd opened up his locker, only to find a tiny white box sitting on the shelf inside. The box was plain, not even a bow or a note in sight. Curiosity got the better of him as he carefully extracted the little package from it's hiding place, turning it over in his hand to see if he could figure out what it was. “Hey!” he called out to the other four men. “Did any of you guys slip this into my locker?”

He held the box up so they could all see it, but every man shook his head. “What is it?” Seunghyun asked, his voice a bit muffled as he changed shirts. “If I knew that, do you think I'd be asking who put it here?”

“Well, open it!” Youngbae encouraged.

Jiyong eyed his best friend warily, but decided he was right... the only way to find out was to open the damn thing. He slid his thumb along the flap and pulled it back. He had to fight the urge to laugh as the whole group crowded around him in order to see what his unexpected gift was.

“It's...” Jiyong was at a loss for words.

“Chocolate?” Daesung offered tentatively. “I think...”

A single chocolate truffle was all the box contained. It was sad looking and irregularly shaped, clearly a homemade attempt. Jiyong reached into the box with trembling fingers, picking up the chocolate in between his forefinger and his thumb so he could examine it closer. It was obviously dark chocolate, covered in a layer of cocoa powder. But it still had a faint scent of something else... 'Oranges, maybe?' he thought to himself.

“Awww.... Jiyongie got himself a Valentine!” Youngbae teased. “Who's it from?” the maknae asked.

“I have no idea.” Jiyong whispered, just before he held it up to his lips and took a bite.

Despite the yelling protests of his friends, telling him he was insane for eating something from an unknown sender, Jiyong was in heaven.

He had been right. The slightly bitter flavor of the cocoa powder hit his tongue first, followed quickly by the sweetness of the rich chocolate as he chewed the soft confection slowly. Only after he swallowed did he taste the orange and something slightly more astringent... probably alcohol of some sort. A satisfied groan came from somewhere deep within Jiyong's chest.

“Damn...” Seunghyun swore under his breath. “Must have tasted better than it looked. Can I have the other half?” he looked at the leader hopefully.

“No.” said Jiyong simply & then popped the rest of the treat into his mouth. This was his very first Valentine's chocolate and he was not in the mood to share it.

The guys just shook their heads and went back to getting ready, all interest in teasing Jiyong was lost now that the chocolate was gone.

And that was how it had started.

Jiyong had received “mystery chocolates” in his locker every Valentine's Day from there on out, with the exception of the couple of years he'd actually had a girlfriend. And on those years, he'd found himself seriously missing the candies. So much so, that he'd started to make absolutely sure he was single on Valentine's Day, just so he'd be guaranteed to get his chocolates.

Over the years the number of candies had multiplied and improved in quality. The second year, there had been four of the same that he'd gotten the first time. Each one a little rounder & more expertly shaped than the one before. And it had just snowballed from there... fillings and toppings had changed, there was now a mix of dark, milk and white chocolate. And, he had to admit, the candy itself had gotten prettier, more well made. Practice made perfect, Jiyong supposed. But the boxes, even though they'd been getting steadily bigger, were always plain & white with no indication whatsoever as to who kept leaving them in his locker.

Jiyong heard the door to the room open, jolting him from his memories. He watched as a shadowy figure crept into the room and headed straight for his locker. Patiently he waited... the “chocolatier” as he'd come to think of her, opened his locker quietly, pulled a container from her bag, and slid it into place on the shelf. Then she stealthily shut the door to the locker and turned around.

That was when Jiyong sprung his trap.

“A-ha!” he yelled in triumph, flipping up the light switch and flooding the room with the harsh glow of florescents. “I've gotcha now!”

You screamed and flattened yourself against the row of lockers at the sudden invasion of light.

Jiyong stood there just blinking, trying to give his eyes time to adjust.

“Ji... Jiyong?” your voice wavered in shock and a slight tinge of fear. “You scared me to death!” you held a hand to your chest, attempting to slow the frantic beating of your heart.

“______________-ah?” Jiyong asked, his voice sounding confused, but intrigued at the same time. He couldn't imagine that you, of all people, turned out to be his mysterious Valentine chocolate maker.

You'd begun working at YG in 2005, starting as an unpaid intern, basically running errands and cleaning. Through the years, you had managed to work your way up through the company based solely on hard work and perseverance. You moved over to working with the Coordi Noona's on wardrobe & then transferred to the set and stage team. Now you were incredibly proud to be able to say that you were the main set designer for all of Bigbang's concerts. It was a job that you loved and hated at the same time. Because it helped keep you close to Jiyong, the man you had come to love and accept that you could never have. So, you made a compromise with yourself to make him chocolate every Valentine's Day, never letting him know who they were actually from, because you knew that his rejection would absolutely wreck you.

Jiyong moved around the boxes he'd been using as cover and strode over to stand in front of you, dangerously close.

“So... you're my 'chocolateir'?” he asked with a smirk.

“I...” it was on the tip of  your tongue to say that you didn't know what he was talking about, but you knew it was no use. You'd been caught & now would come the rejection and humiliation that you had been so scared of for years. That's why you had placed them in his locker in secret in the first place, you didn't have the courage to face Jiyong and admit your feelings.

He simply reached around you and deftly popped his locker open, reaching in and coming out with the simple white box in hand.

“Jiyong, I...” you started to explain, but he just held a finger up to your lips.

“Shhhhh.....” he said with a smile as he pried the lid open.

You watched as his face lit up like a little kid, looking at the variety of chocolates in the box this year. He pointed to a white chocolate one that you'd made for the first time. “What's this one?”

“Raspberry mousse.” you told him flatly.

“And this?” he pointed out another.

“Pistachio.” you sighed.

Jiyong took his time looking the box over, but the longer he took, the more his delighted face turned into a frown.

“Where's the orange ones?” he pouted.

“What?”

“The orange ones!” he whined. “You know... like the first one you made me.” Jiyong looked at you then, his brown eyes pleading.

“Oh....” you chuckled. “those are on the second layer.” you reached over and lifted the first section of the box to reveal the tier below.

Jiyong's eyes grew wide as he saw that the entire second box was filled with nothing but the orange truffles that he loved so much. Without hesitation, he reached in and lifted one out, popping it into his mouth in a single bite and moaning aloud, just as he had the first time.

You felt yourself shiver as Jiyong ate the truffle. Watching as his eyes slid closed in complete bliss and the sound of satisfaction escaped his chest. You couldn't help but feel proud that your chocolate making skills had managed to elicit such a response.

“They aren't orange.” you whispered, not sure why you felt the need to correct him on such a small detail.

“What?” his eyes popped open in shock, the moment ruined.

“The truffles...” you stammered. “They aren't orange. They're Grand Marneir.”

Jiyoing grinned. “I thought I tasted alcohol...”

“I, uh... I learned how to make them from my aunt.” you admitted shyly.

“And the rest?”

“Well, at first I just watched videos online and eventually I took some local classes on chocolate making.” you said quietly, not really sure why you were admitting all this to him.

“All that... just for me?” he asked, carefully taking the first layer from you & setting both down on the nearby wooden bench.

You just nodded, suddenly unsure of what to say.

Jiyong turned back to face you, his face suddenly serious. “All this time... why not just tell me, _______-ah?”

“I...” you briefly thought about lying, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. “I... wanted to wait until they were perfect. And I was... I was afraid you wouldn’t return my feelings.” you looked dejectedly at the floor, certain that he was going to try and turn you down as gently as he could. You couldn't bear to watch his face as he did it.

To your great surprise you felt Jiyong step into your space. One hand snaked around your waist, coming to rest at the small of your back. His other hand gently came up under your chin, tilting your face so that you were forced to look at him.

“They're already perfect.” he murmured. “They were from the very beginning.”

You opened your mouth to protest, because even you had to admit that the first truffle you'd left him had been positively ugly. Instead Jiyong slid his mouth over yours, objectively swallowing anything you were about to say.

The kiss shocked you at first, but once you realized there was actually feeling behind it on his part, you began to kiss him back eagerly. You wound your arms around him, pulling Jiyong even closer to you.

There was a hint of dark chocolate & Grand Marnier and you found that couldn't get enough now that you'd finally gotten a taste of him.

After a while, he broke the kiss and pulled back slightly, his lips still barely touching yours. “You were my first Valentine.” he admitted breathlessly.

“Really?” you gave him a dubious look.

“Honest.” he smiled. “You can ask the guys if you don't believe me.”

You returned his smile, leaned forward and gave him another small kiss.

“Can I also be your last Valentine?”

Jiyong pulled you into a tight hug, whispering into your ear, “I'd love that, actually... just as long as you always make me those orange truffles.”

“Deal.”

Jiyong exhaled a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and chuckled. He pulled back so that he could look at you.

“Fair warning,  _________-ah. I feel like I should tell you to brace yourself.” he said, his face suddenly serious.

“Brace myself?” you asked, confused. “For what?”

“I have a lot of White Day's to make up for...” he said, winking at you before leaning in for another kiss.

[thesurielships]

New Girl meets the Court of Dreams Part III

a/n: It’s been a year since I updated this. I’m really sorry about that. I had no inspiration for it and everything I wrote felt wrong. It’s also been a while since I last wrote anything, and I don’t know how I feel about this chapter but if I edit it one more time I might just lose what’s left of my sanity.

Without further ado, enjoy :)

Part I, Part II, Part III | Word count: 1.7k

“Okay, guys,” Rhys whispered as he soundlessly closed the door. He tiptoed across the room to where his brothers were huddled. “What’s the plan?”

“Pull the plug off the TV?” Azriel suggested, face impassive.

“Throw the blanket out the window?” Cassian asked.

Rhys glared at both of them. “Be serious.”

“I am serious!” Cassian began loudly then continued in a hushed voice as a lion roared outside. “If I hear a baby penguin do whatever sound baby penguins make for one more time, I will literally go insane. I haven’t had sex in all the time she’s been here. Every time I bring a girl over, Feyre starts telling her THE story and they cry together and console each other!”

“How does it feel to have girls choose a weeping mess over you, Cass?”

Cassian punched Azriel’s arm.

Azriel’s smug grin faded quickly as a horde of giraffes bleated in the living room. “But seriously, this cannot go on. It’s been three weeks of crying and eating ice-cream and general misery. In the movies it only takes a three-minute montage for the girl to get over her heartbreak.”

“How does it feel to only know about girls from movies, Az?”

Azriel punched Cassian’s arm.

“Guys!” Rhys interrupted before they could get into it. “So, any ideas?”

“You talk to her,” Azriel grumbled. “You’re the one who brought her here.”

“Or better yet,” Cassian smiled suggestively, “have sex with her. You don’t move on till you move oooon.”

Rhys punched his arm.

“Ouch, man. That hurt.”

Azriel nodded at Rhys appreciatively.

“Rock, paper, scissors for who has to talk to her first?”

*****

Rhys opened the door, and immediately the grunt of a dozen camels filled the room. He shared a wince with his brothers before stepping into the battlefield.

“Darling roommate, when Az told you to be home decorator, he didn’t mean for you to make the living room wildlife appropriate.”

Feyre glanced up at him, and the sight of her bundled up in a dolphin blanket, tears streaking her face, tugged at his heart.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a small voice. Rhysand’s heart dropped. “It’s just… watching these cute little things growing up and overcoming hardships, being there for each other, really warms my heart.”

She wiped a stray tear off her cheek.

“And watching natural selection at work motivates me to be resilient. That way I can outlive that miserable, awful, piece of shit asshole.” She stabbed her spoon into her ice cream, laughing maniacally.

Rhysand bolted back to the safety of his room.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Mother’s tits, Rhys,” Cassian cursed. “I didn’t know you were such a coward. Watch this.”

He strutted out of the room, all confidence. He prided himself in his player ways, after all. A crying girl was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Feyre.”

Her gaze remained focused on the screen where two pigs were rolling in mud.

“Feyre.”

She stared at him then, her eyes unnaturally big in her pallid face. She tilted her head. “If it isn’t my favorite roommate,” she said with a hair-rising smile. “Is your offer from the other day still standing?”

He swallowed nervously, retreating back a step. “What offer?”

Her grin turned feral. “The one about satisfying my urges. All these animal documentaries are giving me new ideas.”

Her cackling laughter chased Cassian as he turned on his heel and dashed back to headquarters. She was still chuckling when Azriel cleared his throat.

“What, it’s your turn to talk to the deranged roommate now?”

Azriel shifted uncomfortably. “Look, I just wanted to say that I understand. I understand what it’s like to feel your world collapse around you, to realize that you lost the person whom you thought was the sole pillar of the universe. Heartbreak is hard. But there is something you could do.”

She kept eating her ice-cream, eyes glazed over as she watched her documentary. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Get closure.”

She finally looked his way, face uncharacteristically somber after the three week long hysteria. “Closure?”

“Talk to him. Burn his house down. Whatever works for you.”

She gave him a sad smile before turning back to her screen. Azriel was dismissed.

He made his way back to Rhys’s room, a cacophony of sounds dogging his steps, none of them her laughter.

***

It had barely been an hour since mother hen and her two chicks had left the house. Feyre let out a deep sigh, reveling in the newfound silence. She had shut off the TV, opting instead to watch the fading light on the ceiling. She was grateful for her roommates’ efforts, she really was. However, she simply was not ready to face what she had lost. Every time she so much as peeked into her soul, she found a yawning chasm that she had no interest in exploring. She was happy to hide in her cocoon of misery and hysteria for a bit longer.

A knock sounded at the door, and Feyre groaned. She left the couch reluctantly, stretching her under exercised muscles and popping her joints. The knocking grew persistent, and Feyre glared at the door.

“Coming!” she shouted as she trudged through the minefield that the carpet had become. It was strewn with ice cream tubs, dirty sweaters - Rhysand’s sweaters, she noted, cringing - tear stained tissues and ripped canvases from her failed attempts to paint.

She finally reached the door, and pulled it open roughly as the visitor began ringing the bell.  It was a gorgeous blonde woman, with blood red lips and a body to die for. Her roommate had upped his game, it seemed.

“Cassian’s not here,” she informed her.

“I’m not here for Cassian. At least not in the way you seem to be thinking,” she chuckled. “I didn’t know one of those losers had gotten a girlfriend,” she added, one delicate eyebrow arched as she gave her a once over. “Rhys?”

Feyre blushed, tugging Rhys’s sweater down on her thighs. “Oh, no. I actually live here. I’m their new roommate.”

The stranger’s second eyebrow rose with shock. “Roommate? Mother, I am always the last to know.” She shook her head, unoffended. “I’m Morrigan, by the way. Rhys’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Feyre.”

“Feyre?” she repeated, chocolate eyes twinkling with mischief. “Rhys has told me so much about you.”

Feyre’s smile was wry. “What, did he tell you about me emptying his closet or pathetically crying my ass off in his living room?”

Morrigan laughed. “Neither, don’t worry. Do you mind if I come in?”

Feyre opened the door wider, welcoming her in. “Not at all.”

Morrigan strode in, her flowery perfume a refreshing change from the suffocating smell of the living room. “My, my,” she huffed with a small smile, taking in the mess. “You weren’t lying about the pathetic part.”

Feyre hid her wince with a smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.

“How long has it been since the break up?”

Feyre opened her mouth to ask how she knew, but she just said: “Three weeks.”

Morrigan froze in her inspection of the carpet. “This simply cannot do. Good thing I decided to pass by here. I just happen to need a drinking companion.”

Feyre began to shake her head.

“Tut tut tut,” she shushed her. “I am not taking no for an answer.”

***

Rhys and his brothers had been surprised to find the apartment empty when they came back from their run to the supermarket. One look at the living room and they all wordlessly started cleaning before their whirlwind of a roommate came back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

Two hours and a clean house later, Rhys was growing worried. Feyre had spent the last three weeks between classes and their couch, sometimes not even going to the former. For her to just go out with no notice was weird. He was just about to go look for her when the door opened and Feyre stumbled in with his cousin, arms looped around each other and giggling uncontrollably.

“What the ever loving hell?”

“Hello there, cousin.” Mor’s smile was full of mischief. “You didn’t tell me your new roommate was such a cracker.”

Rhys had a bad feeling about this.

“Rhyyys, you didn’t tell me you had a cousin. And that she’s so wise.”

They started giggling again.

Rhys’ eyebrow rose. “Wise?”

“She told me that all the answers I seeked were in the bottom of a vodka bottle,” Feyre said, her eyes bright with wonder.

Rhys suppressed a smile, even as he was overcome with the need to strangle his cousin. “Did she, now?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Rhys. I was only tending to her wounds, and wounds need alcohol.”

“Is that all you learned in med school?”

“But Rhys,” Feyre interrupted. She was bouncing on her toes. “She was right!”

“I was?”

“I realized that Tamtam is just so overrated.”

Rhys and Mor snorted. “We could’ve told you that.”

“You know what I used to like the most about him? His hair! Such luscious locks, such glittering golden. I even had a tub of paint that Elain got for me that was the exact shade of his hair. I used it to do portraits and stuff. It was all so pretty.” She shook her head. “But look at this!” She grabbed his cousin’s hair with both hands. “Mor’s hair is so much prettier.”

Mor cackled loudly. “You’re welcome to check out the golden below too, if you want.”

She winked at Feyre and Rhys let out an all suffering groan. How were all of his friends flirting with Feyre?

Feyre untangled herself from Mor and tottered towards Rhys. He stopped breathing as her hand moved towards his neck, his face, his hair… his hair?

“Don’t worry, Rhys. Your hair may not be as great as Mor’s, but it’s definitely in my top 10.”

Rhys could only stare at her glowing eyes and her infectious smile as she kept playing with his hair.

“Your eyes are number 1, though.”

“Stars eternal?” he asked wryly.

Feyre gasped. “Are you reading my mind now?”

Rhys’s laugh was low. He could feel himself leaning forward, entranced by the beautiful woman shining for the first time in weeks in front of him.

“Alright,” Mor groaned loudly, and Rhys caught himself staring at Feyre’s lips. “Enough flirting, you two. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“We do?”

Feyre nodded, and Rhys could’ve sworn her voice was slightly breathless as she said: “We’re breaking into Tamtam’s house.”

Tag list:  @joyceortiz13 @bailey-4244 @quakeriders @standbislytherin @mariamuses @ignite14 @1800-fight-me @velarian-trash @rhysands-highlady @queenblueoffire @rowaelinforeverworld @feeoly @buckybvrnes @dayanna-hatter @shadowstar2313 @goldfishh20 @sleeping-and-books @crackedship @your-high-lady @thesirenwashere @whiskeybusiness1776 @amren-courtofdreams @tswaney17 @julemmaes @booksbooksbooksworld @queenofbumblebees​ @meowsekai​

[angstymarshmallow]

take a break (Griffin x MC)

[A little note: I have a soft spot for people meeting in libraries and flirting while trying to study. Here’s a little idea that kind of wrote itself and was exactly what I needed on a kinda crappy Sunday. I have been desperate to write some griffin content for awhile now, let me indulge myself. Hope y’all enjoy!]

[Words Counted: 1833]

It was almost mid-afternoon when Rhia realized there was no use trying to finish her assignment. She slumped over her desk situated in a corner of Pentaghast’s library, wanting nothing more than the floor beneath her to suddenly open up and swallow her whole.

Ugh. Why couldn’t she memorize this blasted thing? What was stopping her from getting every detail of this spell right? This wasn’t like her, Rhia Saxon wasn’t known for failure, for getting lost in her notes or her professors’ words. She was used to being at the top of her class, a pioneer in her own right when it came to academics and understanding virtually everything the second they were laid out in front of her. She had never needed more than a few minutes to process, well – everything.

But Penderghast was different. All of her experiences up until now only seemed to emphasize just how different this place was. And nothing in her life before could have prepared her for this. For how complex each class was. Regardless of how many classes she went to; each time she learned something useful – there were already a dozen other things waiting for her too.

How was she going to survive this semester – let alone four years here?

The possibilities truly seemed endless and Rhia felt overwhelmed.

Groaning for what had felt like the fourth time today, she covered her face with her hands and barely stifled the sudden urge to scream. Maybe Shreya was right. Maybe she needed a break. Frowning faintly at the thought, she flipped through another page of her notes before she heard a familiar voice somewhere in front of her.

“Don’t you ever want to take a break, Rhia?”

Startled by the sound of his voice, Rhia blinked up in surprise as familiar dark eyes met hers’. It always happened when she saw him – the first second their eyes connected which made her body react instantaneously. Gooseflesh prickled her skin and Rhia had to tug her the sleeves of her sweater to hide them.

He had a book tucked under his arm and was equipped with a smile warm enough for her to feel all the way down to her toes.

“Griffin, hey.” She hated how breathless her voice sounded the moment she said his name and averted her eyes quickly. “And to answer your question, yes. I do. Sometimes.” She paused for a moment, “okay well maybe not a lot – but between someone trying to kill me and all the weird things happening lately, let’s just say working on my assignments are a welcome distraction from the rest of reality.” She shrugged.

“Fair enough.” Griffin agreed. He pulled a seat from another table and sat in front of her.

The second his eyes lifted back to her, Rhia felt something inside her stomach flutter. Trying to ignore it, she fidgeted in her seat as he leaned forward.

“I believe in staying on top of my classes as much as the next person – you know how much my studies mean to me.” Resting his hands on the table between them, he continued. “But taking breaks are just as important too. They give your brain a chance to relax. To breathe.” His expression softened, “I know it’s been rough these past couple weeks and I’m sorry I haven’t always been there to help.”

Her throat tightened. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t like he could have done much anyway; the shadow monsters suspiciously always knew when she was alone.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is – I’m worried about you Rhia...” He trailed off for a moment as one of his hands reached between them, inching towards hers’. “And I know you’ve been stressed lately,” he continued slowly, “and maybe taking some time for yourself with me could help.”

She closed the rest of the inches between their fingers and the slight tingle she felt along her spine made her slightly shiver. Were her ears deceiving her or was he suggesting a date? She shook her head. “I know you mean well,” she started, biting her lower lip. “But this is how I cope. How I’ve always dealt with things. I like trying to understand every angle, every option. I need to.”

“Ever the metal attuned, eh?” His face twisted a little with disappointment before just as quickly disappearing. “Alright, then I’ll help.”

“I – what?”

“You heard me,” his grin came back – and the full weight of it made Rhia’s heart skip a beat. “If you’re going to be locked here all afternoon then let’s at least be stuck together.” His eyes dropped to her notes, “may I?”

“Uh, sure.” Wide-eyed, Rhia watched as he picked up her notebook and began sorting through her notes. He had such a look of intense concentration that Rhia suddenly felt tight-lipped. She couldn’t explain it. They’ve had other moments by themselves – but this was different. There was a table between them, and they weren’t holding each other and over-looking the stars.

“I see the problem here.”

“You do?” She tried to drag her mind back to the present before her wayward thoughts got the better of her. Stray thoughts had lingered though; the way he held her the last time they were alone, the way his lips had felt – a fissure that had built between them, the way he smiled at her as they cuddled up to each other. Focus, focus. She instructed herself thinly.

Clearing her throat, she dropped her eyes back to her book as he turned another page and pointed at her notes. “Something wrong with it?”

“Yeah,” He was suddenly leaning in again, further this time and Rhia’s stomach tightened at the lingering smell of his body wash. Had he just showered before coming to library?

The thought had sent another set of images inside her head. Images of what he looked like without any clothes on –

“It’s right…here.” His dark fingers circled a diagram she copied in class. “I think you’ve got some of the ingredients wrong.”

“Oh? Where?” Frowning a little, she bent forward until her forehead smacked right into his.  He winced a little and Rhia fumbled to apologize. “God, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” She tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks as she reached between them to touch his forehead.

It was supposed to be a touch, a simple touch to convince herself that she didn’t leave a mark but the moment she did, she realized her mistake. His skin was unmistakeably smooth, and the spark that followed at the simple touch made her fingers shake. Her mouth opened slightly as his eyes slide to hers’. Magnetic. There was something magnetic about his eyes, how they were able to pull her in. It was how she had felt the moment they met from orientation so many months ago.

Rhia froze. Her eyes helplessly stuck at staring at him, watching in quiet fascination as he raised his hand and shifted hers’ to cup his cheek.

The gesture alone made her stomach flip.

“Has anyone ever told you- you’ve got pretty eyes?” Rhia blurted out.

A hesitant beat passed between them.

“Oh god, did I just say that out loud?” She wanted to suddenly disappear. No – more than that she wanted to pretend everything that just happened was a figment of her imagination and this whole time she was simply daydreaming about Griffin instead of him here – in the flesh.

The sound of his laugh halted her thoughts. Much to her relief, her words hadn’t sent him running from the hills. Instead, his laugh died into a smile. She kept forgetting that Griffin was unlike most people she had ever met.

His eyes were practically sparkling with amusement as they held her gaze. “I think you’re the first one.”

“Oh, well.” She said lamely. Yay me, I guess?

Did that also mean she was the only person that was interested in being more than friends – or whatever this was between them? She couldn’t be. They had only kissed twice, but Rhia liked to think that Griffin didn’t simply go around kissing just anyone.

“But I think what’s even prettier was coming in here and finding you here. “ He lowered his voice to a husky undertone. “Seeing you here.”

Oh god.  His grin was going to make her melt into a puddle, she simply knew it. Just sitting here and not turning red was going to be harder the longer they talked like this. He must know the effect he had on her.

Clearing her throat, Rhia finally mustered enough will power to drop her hand but not before he shifted to place a swift kiss across her knuckles. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” She meant it as a joke but his gaze suddenly turned so serious that her throat went completely dry.

“No, just you.” He addressed with strong conviction.

“I – ” she hesitated, “you’re awfully distracting for someone that’s supposed to be helping me with my studies.” To add to her point, she exaggeratedly dropped her gaze to her notebook still sprawled between them.

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

She lifted her eyes back to his as he tried to hide his smile. But it was to no avail as Rhia could still see the corner of his lips fighting to stay even. “Besides, you distract me too.” He nudged her with a foot underneath the table.

Before she could stop herself, she quirked an eyebrow at him and blurted out. “Oh yeah, how?”

“Have you seen yourself, Rhia? You light up pretty much every room you’re in.” He smiled, exerting a quiet confidence she had always admired about him. “Heck even in Thief practice yesterday, when you thought about using the Earth like that against me last minute – ” he stopped to whistle and then shook his head.

“So that’s why it was so easy to capture your flag.” Rhia teased uncharacteristically, but on the inside she was practically glowing from his compliment.

“Or maybe I just wanted you to find me.” His gaze grew intense enough for Rhia’s cheeks to grow hot. 

He certainly hadn’t made it a challenge. “You’re too distracting for your own good Langley,” she declared shaking her head. Her eyes darting between him and her notes. “Almost enough for me to want to put this off until tomorrow.” 

He was grinning again and his grin was giving her all sorts of ideas that had nothing to do with studying. “Only almost?” He tried to flutter his eyelashes innocently at her until she laughed.

“Okay, okay.” She concedes, smiling. Her cheeks ached from the effort of smiling so much but she couldn’t help it, his smile was too infectious. Actually, a lot about him was too infectious. “Let’s take a break and grab something to eat.”

“It’s a date then.” He stood first and handed her the pair of notebooks on the desk despite the seconds it took for her to recover.

Stomach fluttering, Rhia didn’t hesitate in gripping his outstretched hand and linked their fingers together. “Only if you’re buying.”

-

[dexi-green]

Avengers:Endgame Thoughts !!SPOILERS!!

Just some random thoughts and questions and such about the movie. There are spoilers so…don’t read if you haven’t seen it and care about spoilers. I tried to organize it a bit but we all know that’s impossible.

Okay so..I’m not the biggest fan of the Russo Brothers and what they have done with their Marvel films. There have been some improvements, and some things that just can’t be helped and I just want to make that known first. I don’t really hate any of the films they made, they are definitely enjoyable, and fun, have great moments.

I’ve been a bit critical about how they used some of the big storylines from the comics in the films, because they never felt the same (they never can honestly, comic books and films are different formats, different ways of storytelling) but this honestly is the closest to the annuals. This is the closest to waiting an entire year after reading comics each month, to the big huge event. It feels as big as those. Civil War didn’t to me, Age of Ultron didn’t, Infinity War kinda, but this. This felt huge. Especially when actually watching it.

This is a huge fanservice film. You could probably enjoy it without any prior knowledge, or without seeing all the other films, but god, it’s better if you do. Soooo many little throwbacks and easter eggs and payoffs from the earliest films and the comics. So I highly suggest the other films, I think every single one film has some sort of tribute in this one. (I’m making a list of references and such so I’ll see)

So one of my biggest gripes out of the way…the Joe Russo cameo. It completely pulled me out of the film. The scene itself could’ve been a nice little thing to see what Steve has been up to during those five years but…just watching and listening to what was mostly Joe Russo talking and inserting himself into the universe…eh :/ It’s not like a Stan Lee cameo, he didn’t have a hand in creating these characters and we don’t owe the Russo Brothers as much as we owe Lee and Kirby and Simon and Ditko and Bendis, etc. I think his cameo in Civil War and Winter Soldier was better, he barely talked in WS and not at all in CW, was barely on screen, it was fine. I just felt it was a little too much… His cameo was longer than Stan’s.

Also that was their way of making the “first openly gay character in a Marvel movie.” they even said that, “We felt it was important that one of us play him, to ensure the integrity and show it is so important to the filmmakers that one of us is representing that.” which...is really a cop out I feel. That LGBTQ representation, the smallest line of being on a date, could’ve easily gone to Valkyrie/Brunnhilde’s character, seeing as Tessa Thompson says her character is queer and played her that way (take one look at Tessa’s or Brie Larson’s twitter or some interviews, it isn’t hard to see they support it), and Tessa is actually Bisexual in real life. But whatever I guess...

Though it was definitely funnier than the other movies the Russo’s have done, and DEFINITELY prettier. I’ve had a big issue with the color grading and scene composition in the Russo’s movies. Say what you will, Joss Whedon knew how to make a comic splash page translate to screen, but the Russo’s did...the airport fight scene. The scene’s in their films that did have great composition were pulled straight from the comics (like Steve Vs. Tony, Shield vs. Repulsors) Okay. But, in Endgame it definitely looks better. There are memorable scenes. There are shots that I thought...okay thats art. The end battle had some shots, like Thanos in the foreground pointing his sword, and his army behind him. When Tony was looking out of the Benatar and saw the glowing light that is Captain Marvel. When Okoye, T’Challa, and Shuri walk out of the portal to the final battle, it’s a bit hazy, almost dream like, gives the feeling of Steve seeing them and not knowing whether this was real or not. The colors still look a bit dull in some scenes, but at this point it seems like the Russo’s are resigned to gray and mud and mess to get that gritty “realistic” vibe that for some reason is what people want and not the escapism, fantasy, cosmic stories that comics can be.

I did really like the small nods towards how relationships formed or degraded throughout time, or how people changed, especially during the five years we didn’t see. We got a little nod towards Carol and Rhodey’s relationship from the comics with…a nod and a good luck and a lingering look. Natasha calls Rocket fluffball, I think it was, and says she gets e-mails from him. Bruce and Natasha are on some sort of not dating but close friends terms after hardly interacting in Infinity War. Definitely acknowledging Age of Ultron and not just making it a joke and trying to push it aside. Nebula and Rocket seem to have gotten closer, probably due to all of their friends dusting. Rocket and Bruce seem to be on some level of friendship, or at least acknowledge each others connection to Thor. Okoye calling Natasha, Nat. Carol has been coming to earth somewhat regularly. Tony and Nebula playing the paper football game, her giving him the food even when he offered it to her, (It reminded me of the blueberry bit in the first Avengers) working together to try and get somewhere. TONY AND MORGAN!! He raised a whole five year old kid. He definitely seems like a stay at home dad, especially since Pep is the CEO of Stark Industries.

It’s really nice (and sad) to see how some people’s lives moved forward. How people tried to move on, how all these different personalities coped with the loss. Seeing Cassie has aged was definitely a favorite. Cassie has thought her dad was dead for five years, and for Scott he was only gone for five hours, but he comes back to his little girl as a teenager. At the end, when we see them together with Hope, we know that Scott now has to go forward knowing he missed five years of his daughter’s life, and is probably going to try and make the most of it. Maybe that means giving up Ant-Man, or having her join in (we need Stature, I mean come on, we need another young avenger). But it was nice to see that time didn’t just stand still until the Avengers found a fix. It kept moving forward.

I wish we would’ve gotten a bit more of Wakanda/Wakandans. Okoye was still alive, and I think M’Baku survived the Snap as well, but I don’t think we saw him until the final battle. We only got a couple glimpses of Wakanda. Which I guess makes sense because with both T’Challa and Shuri gone, Wakanda needed leadership (though I’m unsure as to whether Ramonda dusted as well), but it would’ve been nice for Okoye to maybe be a little involved in the efforts to get the stone, especially considering Wakanda is so advanced. Even without Shuri there could’ve been something they could contribute. T’Challa really had like one or two lines basically but okay.

I sorta didn’t like Thanos dusting away. I was a bit off put at the beginning when Thor cut of his head because to me, that was Nebula or Gamora’s kill (though seeing as both Gamora and Nebula seemed somewhat sad after seeing him die (Gamora after she seemed to kill him in IW and Nebula after Thor went for the head) MCU Gamora and Nebula might not want to do that). I understand it though, Thor was angry. At the end I was hoping that Thanos wouldn’t dust so we could get that kill, and sort of mirror Tony’s fear of being the only survivor, but… I guess it’s the writer’s poetic justice. It’s not bad, but I just kinda hoped they would go a different way with it.

I love when the music cuts out and Quill is just dancing and singing to himself. “So he’s an idiot”.

“I bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain.” “Technically he’s not a raccoon you know?” “oh whatever he eats garbage.” Are they talking about Rocket...or...Thor?

That girl power scene? We love it. “Don’t worry” “She’s got help.”

I love how they pass around Tony’s Gauntlet like a football, trying to get it to the van. But when Peter had it and was thrown to the ground and was curled up clutching it, I was so prepared to cry.

Same with Rocket trying to protect Groot.

No vision. I didn’t really find myself even thinking of him all that much during the film. We got a line or two but that’s about it. It makes me wonder about the ‘WandaVision’ show and whether that title was just to throw people off, or if he is going to be in it.

I’d be really interested in seeing more of what happened during those 5 years. Maybe I just want to see more of Tony as a dad? Maybe… But to see how everyone tries to move forward. Like what does Cassie do? Did her mom and step-dad dust to? Was she alone? Did the Avengers check on her? I think Bruce mentions he spent 18 months in a Gamma Lab. I would love to see how he came to terms with Hulk. I would love to see how the Asgardian’s settled. Etc. I think there are some interesting stories there, maybe for future shows or comics or stories.

CAROL DANVERS / CAPTAIN MARVEL

I love that Carol Danvers had a small moment/lingering shot when they were looking at everyone who dusted and she saw Nick Fury. Another little nod towards a relationship without being overt and having her mention to characters how Nick Fury was a close friend. I mean that was the reason why they came out with the Captain Marvel movie before this. So the audience members who saw both would understand Carol’s role, powers, motives, and relationships before so they wouldn’t have to squeeze it all into this movie.

I also forgot that Captain Marvel was even in this movie after the last time they showed her in the beginning because I was so wrapped up in everything else, so when she showed up at the end I was genuinely surprised and excited! They really hyped her up to be the most powerful hero, but didn’t overuse her or make her OP at all. They gave everyone else their time knowing that she has the future MCU ahead of her. I think they spent a good amount of time on the original avengers as this really was their send off, knowing the rest of the characters have future films/shows to shine in. (Which kind of makes me forgive the lack of Wakanda..but still…)

The look on Thanos’ face when Carol showed up, amazing. Her exchange with Peter? Pure and beautiful. And that little *dink* when he tries to headbutt her? Pure comedy.

Thanos pulling the power stone out of the gauntlet to use against Carol was...forgive me...a power move.

THOR ODINSON & LOKI LAUFEYSON

I know a lot of people think Thor’s mental health/PTSD was just played as a joke, but I don’t think it was. I mean there have been times they tried to sweep Tony’s mental health under the rug and times where (maybe just the fandom) treated Tony as a villain for how it showed itself.

Thor didn’t want to think about it. Thor was done. He wanted to drink and forget. He didn’t want people to talk about Thanos, or Loki, or anything that happened. He made a new home for all the Asgardians and then retreated into himself. When we first see him, Bruce stops and asks Thor if he’s okay and tells him that he was in a similar dark spot as well and that Thor was the one who helped him out. It’s a sweet moment, yeah it’s sandwiched by some jokes, but it's there. As is the moment when Thor talks to his mother for the last time. Frigga gives him piece of mind. Let’s him know that she knows what her fate is, that it isn’t his fault, which is one weight off his shoulder. She lets him know that he doesn’t need to be whatever he thinks he needs to be, just to be who he is. He doesn’t need to be an Asgardian King, or whatever else his father wanted, if that's not what Thor wants. Being himself is enough to be worthy. So he fights that final fight (completely okay in the fact that Steve is worthy as well, even saying he knew it! So he must’ve knew Steve was pretending not to be able to pick it up all the way in AOU), he makes Valkyrie/Brunnhilde King/Queen of Asgard, and he goes with the Guardians, because that's where he wants to be.  He’s not being who he is supposed to be, but who he is. Which seems to be someone who wants to have fun and save people who need saving. Which I think is a nice mirror to Chris Hemsworth’s relationship to playing the character. He said that he prefers the fun, comedic Thor that Taika made with Ragnarok, and doesn’t as much like playing the uber serious Thor from previous films. He even said he’d be open to more Thor movies if Taika Waititi was directing.

While I hope we see Thor in Guardians Vol.3, and his story didn’t feel as final as Steve and Tony’s did, he did come full circle. From fighting tooth and nail to be a worthy king, to finally accepting who he truly is and being comfortable with accepting that. Sort of mirroring Loki.

Speaking of Loki...His scenes in this movie were definitely more humorous than anything. I know people wanted a better end for him. I’ll be honest, I liked his end in Infinity War (though I did believe he might still be alive because he didn’t revert back to his Jotun form when he died in IW). But for all the same reasons as Thor. He started feeling tremendous envy and hate for his brother and father, felt the need to prove himself, though he took a very different route than Thor, he got to a point where he accepted who he truly was. A Jotun, and an Odinson, Thor’s brother, Prince of Asgard. So to me, yeah it would be nice to see a different ending for Loki, (if they do bring him back I feel they either can’t kill him or have to kill him for real), I’m content with his entire arc.

BRUCE BANNER / HULK

Bruce has finally come full circle as well. He started off wanting to actually kill himself because of the Hulk, but now he has found the ‘Professor Hulk’ middle ground. He even says he sees it as an ‘evolution’ (X-Men reference/hint maybe??). After Ragnarok and Infinity War, something during those five years lead both Hulk and Bruce to accept each other. Just imagine how happy Hulk was when those kids came up asking for a photo. It’s no longer “Earth hates Hulk”. Hulk is a hero, he has fans! Young kids who aren’t scared. Bruce doesn’t have to be scared of running rampant and out of control and hurting innocent people. He doesn’t need to be locked in a cage. He can be completely who he is without holding back.

Bruce admitting that he tried to bring back Natasha with his Snap…oof.

NATASHA ROMANOFF / NATALIE RUSHMAN/ BLACK WIDOW & CLINT BARTON / HAWKEYE / RONIN

I actually really liked the beginning and how they handled Hawkeye’s story. Him helping Lila with her Archery and her walking out of frame, then when it cuts back to where she should’ve been only some dust particles in the air? Amazing, show not tell. We didn’t need to actively see Clint’s family dust away (honestly it makes it sadder that he didn’t see it either, didn’t know what happened, they were just gone). And we didn’t need a scene of him talking about it. We just got into it. The Ronin story isn’t my favorite but I’m glad too much time wasn’t spent on it and only the parts that mattered were addressed. That his family is gone and he’s angry. Natasha still cares about him deeply and has been looking for him.

Also..who puts mayo on a hot dog?

Natasha and Clint’s relationship is one that I really like. It’s this pure friendship and salvation from the beginning. Clint was the one who made the call to not kill her, but rather show her a different path. In Endgame, Natasha does the exact same for Clint. She takes him from being a ruthless assassin, angry at the world, to fighting for the good guys again. They are family. She is Aunt Nat to his kids, friends with his wife. She knows about his family and ‘secret’ life when no other Avengers did. It’s because of him (and Nick Fury) that she has a family not only in them, but the rest of the Avengers. But it just makes stories like Infinity War/Endgame and Civil War sadder for her because, almost all the other Avengers have a life outside of the team, and have families to go to, but not her. So when they break up, and aren’t talking, she is left alone. No wonder she stays at the compound. When Rhodey is telling her about Clint and she starts crying, it’s so sad, because he was her family and he just left.

Natasha and Clint literally fighting over who gets to sacrifice themself? Big oof. Natasha really makes me like Clint’s character in the films. And as much as I love the “refund theory” of Steve returning the soul stone to Vormir and getting Natasha back, and I would love a better send off (like with Thor) I think her story has really come full circle.

One of the biggest themes I noticed in her arc throughout the films is choice. When she was in the Red Room, she had no choice but to do what she was told, because of what happened there she doesn’t get the choice of having children or not. In Winter Soldier she felt like she felt like the choice of fighting for the ‘good’ guys was an illusion. Etc. But here is the biggest choice she can make, and she decided that she’d rather die so everyone else, everyone she cares about, can have a chance. She wasn’t going to let someone else make that choice for her. She did it despite Clint’s protest. She finally found something, someone she chose to die for. And the imagery of her on the ground not only mirrors her position in Tony’s vision from AOU, but the pool of blood draining from her is almost literally her getting the red out of her ledger like she mentions she wants to do in Avengers. “I’ve got red on my ledger. Now I need to wipe it out.” She has finally atoned for all the bad she has done.

I know she didn’t get a funeral scene or a big send off, but I think that was as to not overshadow or take away from Tony’s. Which is sad. Maybe we will get a better send off in a different film or show. We did get those lines from Clint and Wanda about hoping she knew that they did it, that her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing. Which is small, but it is the person who cared about her the most.

Also...did no one tell Clint and Natasha that they would need to sacrifice someone to get the stone? Surely Nebula knew...

STEVEN ROGERS / CAPTAIN AMERICA

“I can do this all day.” “Yeah, I know.” Even Steve is tired of himself.

Scott: “That’s America’s Ass.”

Steve, later, looking at his own ass on a past version of himself: “That is America’s Ass.”

My mind immediately when we heard Sam’s voice over Steve’s comm: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uB1D9wWxd2w

Also on that note... I absolutely love that Sam was the one that Steve choose to carry on Captain America’s legacy. In the comics both Sam and Bucky take up the mantle and I was sincerely hoping Bucky wouldn’t in the films. At least not at first. Bucky has so much interesting story to explore from when he was the Winter Soldier and still has so much healing to do from not only that time, but everything he was thrust back into when he was still settling in Wakanda..and being dusted. In the films, Sam is perfect to be the Captain America of modern times. He knows how the modern world works, he’s been in the military, dealt with war (both earthly threats and extra terrestrial), and I feel he’s emotionally/mentally stable enough for it. Hell he ran a veteran support group which inspired Steve to run a support group for survivors during the five years after the snap. Also, I don’t think I need to get into why having a Black/African-American Captain America in these times is amazing. I would love to see him in a movie, but if we get a live action show on the Disney+ streaming service, I think that would be great.

When they showed someone sitting on the bench, I was like okay that’s Steve. But how skinny and small he looked I thought it was going to be Pre-Serum Steve...but no, we got old man Steve. Which surprised me, it shouldn’t have but it did, because when he left and they couldn’t bring him back I leaned over to my sister and said “he stayed in the ‘40s”. But I had like 1000 thoughts running through my head every second of this movie. (except when the theater fell silent when Tony...ya know) It sorta reminded me of Logan for a hot second...

I’ve seen some people say, "It's not in character for Steve to live a life and not fight".

Every single movie has been building to Steve getting more and more tired of fighting. First he sacrifices himself for everyone else. Then he is woken up to fight in a war, and a world, he barely knows anything about, and starts seeing that privacy and freedom might not mean the same things they use to. That the governments meant to protect the people have even more secrets and lies, and are becoming more violent and ruthless. His whole vision sequence (and basically entire arc) in AOU was about how he needs war and to fight but how he doesn’t want that to be the case. He wants to go home. He wants the 40s. He wants Peggy. He wanted Bucky. He wants a family and a life. It hints that sometimes he may feel he doesn’t deserve it, or that the time for that has passed.

He didn't leave Bucky behind, Bucky knew full well what was happening and didn't seem too bothered. He knew and was happy that Steve had this chance. He loves him and wouldn't keep him from that. More than likely Bucky sees a future for himself as well, just not in the 40s. Bucky could have went back with him if he wanted to. But he didn't. Sam even offers to go back with Steve, Bucky standing right there and Steve says it's okay. Bucky doesn't protest. Bucky is smiling. Plus we don't know exactly what happened. Maybe Steve would have still fought here and there, maybe he did help that timeline/universe Bucky. He did still have the shield with him. Or maybe he was a house husband/dad while Peggy worked. Whatever he did he was clearly happy and content with all his choices and no one protested.

I actually really love this ending for Steve. He finally gets to rest. He finally gets the woman he loves. He can be content knowing the world is safe and that there are others willing to protect it. From the skinny, sick, kid who was always searching for a fight and felt he was (or had to be) alone in the world. He found a family, his love, a life.

TONY STARK / IRON MAN

I really love that for the scene in the 70s they used James D’Arcy to play Edwin Jarvis. He played Jarvis in the Agent Carter show, and I think most people who watch any of the shows know that the shows are payed dirt in the MCU movies. So as someone who loved that show, loved the characters and actors, seeing that was great! It intertwines the show more closely to the films, and it was nice for Tony to see the other man who raised him even for a second. Yeah it would’ve been nice to see Paul Bettany, but I feel he is more connected to J.A.R.V.I.S Tony’s A.I rather than the actual person of Jarvis.

I love that Tony gets a reunion/closure with his father (similar to Thor’s with his mother). Before his own untimely death, he gets to talk with his father and really see things through his eyes and learn what his mind set truly was. Now that he’s a father himself he understands a bit more the struggles Howard had, he knows Howards own self doubts. That despite everything Howard cared, and that Howard’s own father was cruel to him. And they get to share that last hug and is able to thank him! Just like he wanted to in Civil War. He gets to say I love you, and thank you for everything.

Peter says he “got all dusty. Then [he] must’ve passed out”. So like...no time passed for those who got dusted in the snap...

I was sorta hoping Tony would wield Mjolnir as well, but he didn’t :/ but it’s fine. He doesn’t need it. He wields the Gauntlet/Infinity Stones.

Something Kevin Smith brought up that I hadn’t really thought of was that Tony was completely set. While he definitely had regrets and felt guilty, he had a good life in front of him. He 100% could have just lived the rest of his natural born days out with his family and been as happy as he could have been. But seeing that picture of Peter, and knowing all that was lost, feeling guilty, and just being the self-sacrificial man he is, risked it all for everyone else. Knowing it could go wrong, he still did it.

Tony’s scene towards the beginning was the first time I almost cried. After he gets rescued, and they are talking in the compound. He is so skinny and in a wheelchair and hooked up to the IV. Cap starts talking, like he always does, and Tony just is not here for it. This is exactly what he said was going to happen, this was the culmination of all the PTSD and anxiety he has had for 8 years. It happened, he was right. No one wanted to listen to him. People gave him so much shit for Ultron and the Accords and literally everything that he has ever done, and this happens and he (pardon my language) snapped on Steve. It was heartbreaking. Because he tried so hard to prevent it. Steve told him they would lose together but he was alone. He watched the kid he cared about disappear in his arms, had no idea who else he cared about who could’ve done the same, and he was alone in space (well Nebula was there, but..he didn’t know her really, they were forced to get to know each other. Remember she showed up when they were already battling Thanos). He was suffering, believing he was going to die. No oxygen, no food, no water…and when he gets back Steve just wants to jump back in, and get information out of him? No. He has had enough. Steve lied. Sure maybe he didn’t mean to, but he said they would work together and then Civil War happened. He made a decision in that movie to be on the opposite side of Tony. I’m not saying that Steve wasn’t justified in his actions in Age of Ultron, or Civil War or anything after, but just that from Tony’s perspective, Steve was continuously putting other people and things in front of him. He probably thought that Steve would make an effort if they were truly friends, and if he truly cared Steve would’ve done more to salvage their friendship but didn’t. I have a whole thing with Steve and how he acted but I just know Tony was hurt, and one person he thought he could turn to, wasn’t there. And the line he closes out his rant with? “No trust, liar.” That hit like a ton of bricks.

When Tony asks Dr.Strange if this was the one they won, Strange says he can’t tell him or it won’t happen. But later Tony looks at him and holds up one finger, telling him this is the one. He told him because he knows that Tony already knows and has come to terms with what has to happen. Tony knows he has to get the stones and Snap Thanos away, knowing that it could kill him. So Dr.Strange just affirmed it for him. If he would’ve told him earlier, than Tony might’ve thought of a different plan, or thought he could make it out, maybe he would’ve gotten excited and cocky. That also means that from the moment Strange looked into the future in IW he knew Tony was going to die. Yeah he knew Thanos needed the time stone because the Snap needed to happen in the first place for them to reverse it, but he also knew Tony was going to make this sacrifice, and couldn’t die just yet. I always thought that Tony was the key after Infinity War, but now it explains why Dr. Strange’s demeanor changes after that.

I almost cried a lot during this film but I actually cried during Tony’s death and funeral scene. Bookending the entire saga with “I am Iron Man”. How Rhodey goes up to him, then Peter (Tom Holland never fails to make me cry when he’s playing Peter), mirroring the last moments in Infinity War, “We won. We did it Mr.Stark”. Then Pepper goes up to him, and has to look at him and he seems almost...catatonic. He isn’t responding, just staring at each of them. Pepper has to watch her love, her husband, the father of her child, die. But she still reassures and comforts him, telling him he can rest now… and i’m about to cry just writing this omg… Then the light of the arc reactor blinks out and you know for real that he’s gone. Tony leaves a message for them knowing his fate, book ending the film from the message he was leaving at the beginning of the movie, to the message he’s leaving for them now. He loves Morgan 3000. Just knowing over the years, Morgan and Pepper will go back and watch this message. Morgan will grow up knowing her father saved the universe with his own hands. They will probably have suits and old tech around that she will be able to look at and play with and tinker with (because you cannot convince me Tony Stark’s daughter won’t be as much of a tinkerer as him). The “Proof Tony Stark Has A Heart” display is sent adrift in the lake outside their home, Little Morgan sitting with her mom. And every person who Tony has come to know and love is watching. Millions more probably mourning all over the world (and in our universe as well). Tony started as an arrogant, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, rich kid with more brains then he could handle, and become the self sacrificial saviour of the universe. He’s been through the worst things, kidnapped, tortured, betrayed, watched people die in front of his eyes, get hurt because of him, etc. But always was looking for a way to make things better for everyone else. He is 100% the heart of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Robert Downey Jr. is the heart of the MCU. Him and Jon Favreau and Kevin Feige took a chance on a movie that was guaranteed to do the best in 2008, improvised through a film with little to no script and built an empire. Robert is Tony Stark in sooo many ways other than both having rich and famous dads. Tortured, and regretful pasts that they rose above. I cannot sing the praises of this character or this man more. So I will end it here. It will sad to go forward without the character, but we really won’t be. Tony and Robert are cemented in every Marvel film and every film to come.

Thank you to all the creators, crew, directors, writers and actors. Robert Downey Jr., Kevin Feige, Jon Favreau, Stan Lee, Joe Simon, Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, etc. <3 Thank you!

[lifeofbouyd]

Mr. Davis

Dear Bouyd,

I wasn’t always a sex addict; after all, I started out curious and innocent just like any other girl. Church on Sundays, school till Friday and homework and house chores on Saturdays. For years that was the only life I knew and I never felt like I was missing out on a thing. I was considered a nerd for most my school years and due to that I never had a boyfriend. There were many I’d let fuck me but I guess they saw right through me. My tenth-grade teacher, on the other hand, was the only guy who gave me compliments; made me feel all important and shit. Even on my worst days, he made me feel pretty. He’d say shit like; “you’re glowing today, I like your hair, I wish all my students were like you, I think you’ll be a good wife someday”. Hearing him say that made me feel like nothing was impossible and this helped me to excel in his class. Mr. Davis stood almost seven feet tall with well-built arms and a broad chest. “The mouth dripping man” they called him. You couldn’t help but stare, even if you tried. He received multiple love notes daily from random girls offering heads, pussy and three sums. To be honest I wanted to suck his dick too, but I never had the guts to say so. I guess it’s cause I haven't raised that way; “no dick to yo face” mama would always say. Who was I to go against that? She had already lived her life so I guess she had a valid reason to say that. But still, I wanted to swallow his snake and choke on it like those girls in pornos.

I wanted him to be the one to take my virginity but I couldn’t even ask him for his number. Shit, the task seemed impossible. I noticed he was into the sexier girls in class; he’d watch their ass and bite his lips. His dick was always stretched across his pants like a garden hose which made me imagine how he sprayed most the teachers and the badass bitches in class. His name was written all over the girl's bathroom; the doors, the walls and even the mirror. He was like peas in rice and peas, a key ingredient. I was minding my own business in the bathroom one day when some girls came in. I overheard Rochel yapping about how she went to his house twice and they had great sex. Knowing her I really didn’t doubt it; she was the school’s pussy or the “come to help us” as most the boys called her. She was sexy, pretty and smart but also a badass bitch. I wasn’t the kind to wear makeup or fuss about how my hair looked, but that all changed when Mr. Davis told me I should take pride in my attire as I do in my school work. What a son of a bitch, if I didn’t like him I’d probably slap him across the face. I took it as a compliment though because he said it with a smiling face, and to be honest; I would do anything to make him happy. I went home that weekend and had my mom transform me. New hair do, tighter, shorter clothes and smelling like a Victoria Secret splash mom had bought me months before. Heads turned that Monday morning. For a second they thought it was a new girl. They looked from head to toe then toe to head.

Mr. Davis: Sammy, what happened to you over the weekend?

Me: I put myself together as you asked

Mr. Davis: Wow, I love the look

In an instant, he undressed me with his eyes. I could feel the tension fuming from those bad mind girls, most of these bitches hated me for my brain but now they had my new look to deal with. I got in a fight in the bathroom with an ugly chick over who was prettier 🤦‍♂️. My first fight in years, and I defended myself but still got my ass kicked. If I wasn’t so focused on protecting my face I could have won the fight. I didn’t wanna go home with a swollen face after leaving like a princess. I had aches for day. Mr. Davis and I grew closer over the next few days as I stayed back in extra class each evening. I had no reason to stay back because I was damn good at my work. It was the only way I could get some extra attention; after all, it was free. I was dying to feel his wrath. I thought of all the ways I’d let him fuck me and all the things I’d do to him but I never had the guts to approach. I didn’t even have his number. The only thing I had was his class three times a week, and wild sex thoughts of him in my head. Most the chicks had already got his number and some even got his dick. Given the odds, I realized I was moving too slow. I needed a plan and I needed it quick. He knew I was into him and he knew I loved to read so occasionally he’d suggest a book for me then ask me to summarize for the class.

Mr. Davis: Sammy, I brought one of my personal Favourite’s for you today. Please collect it before you leave.

Now normally, he’d give me the book right there in class but this time was different. He waited until everyone left before digging down his one strapped leather bag 💼.

Mr. Davis: Sammy, you can't afford to get caught reading this book, and if you do get caught you never got the book from me.

He took my bag and slipped it in. You have the next two weeks off for the Easter holiday. Read it and let me know what you think. I didn’t even see the cover when he slipped it in, and I felt way too nervous to take it out and check. Why did he say that, could he be joking or did he want to see if I was a coward? Either way, I had to wait till I got home to find out. Curiosity became my best friend. I guarded my bag as my life depended on it. One sudden movement and I’d pop a cap in a “nigga”. As soon as I got home I opened my bag to view the book. My eyes popped when I saw the image on the cover; a girl in nothing but her bra on. Her womanliness was exposed and the title read, “How to Catch a Man”. I had never been so shocked in my life. No wonder he said what he said. I couldn’t help but laugh as I was so confused by this strange book. I was still a virgin, not even a kiss to my lips. Sigh, it’s not like he’d ever say anything to me like he wanted us to be together or anything, so why this book? I was confused. My body got tingly, butterfly tummy and cold chills. The first story had me hornier than I had ever been in my life. I had to sleep with a pillow between my legs. Jessica’s fantasy was getting fucked in the bathroom of a flying plane. To me, that’s just intense. She explained how she’d suck his dick, then stuff her head in the toilet and have him strike her hard. “I wanna push him off then suck his dick till he cums in my face, droplets down my throat”. That line alone was worth the read. My mind ran wild imagining Mr. Davis driving me and swallowing his babies. I spent my two weeks reading and dreaming. My appetite was supersized with the urge of losing my virginity to Mr. Davis. I had no idea how I’d do it but I sure as hell was not gonna miss the opportunity.

I got myself all dolled up for school the following week. I had planned to blow his mind one way or another if you know what I mean. I stayed back for extra class one evening with intentions of getting his number to pass on my feedback about the book, and probably beg some dick. I waited until I was the last person in the room before I uttered a word to him.

Me: I read the book.

He looked around to see if anyone had heard before answering.

Mr. Davis: What book?

Me: 😳 what is he really asking me, is he senile or something? I didn’t know what to say so I just kept staring at him as if I was lost.

Mr. Davis: 😏 I bet you liked it. If you’re finished I’d like to have it back.

I stood there staring at him wondering if someone had switched the book. He walked over to me slowly and reached for my bag, but I grabbed it.

Mr. Davis: Can I have my book, please?

Me: What book?

Mr. Davis: The book I gave you to read Teo weeks ago, the same book you just said you read. I hope you didn’t misplace it.

Me: What kind of book was it?

Mr. Davis: A sex book.

A smile slid across my as if I was the joker. I handed him the book and he started asking a few questions. Having him that close to me made me drip like a pipe. I kept staring at his lips while he spoke, I wanted to kiss him so badly. I grabbed him by the neck and laid one on him. I had never kissed anyone before, but I had years of practice kissing my hand. I opened my eyes to see him shocked; with a what the fuck just happened kinda face. He was looking at me as if had broken his car windshield or thrown his phone in water.

Mr. Davis: Are you ok, why would you do that?

I felt so ashamed I held my head down and grabbed my bag to walk away. He grabbed me by the shoulder and shouted, “sit down”. My nerves trembled as I’d never heard him with that tone. He closed the door then sat on the desk next to me. I wondered what was about to happen. I felt as if he was gonna give me a good cussing. He stared at me in silence for about a minute. His eyes trembled and he seemed a bit uneasy. To my surprise, he grabbed me by the neck and kissed me. Instantly my body gave in. I was sent afloat to cloud nine and he hadn’t even done anything yet. My eyes remained shut even when he stopped. My legs vibrated and my heart was beating like a drum.

Mr. Davis: I hope I don’t let you do anything you don’t want to do. If you want me to stop just let me know.

What the fuck was he saying? I needed his sick deep inside me, in my mouth and all over my face. I didn’t even answer him I jumped up and rolled his zipper down, trying to take his dick out. He grabbed my ass and ran his tongue in my ears and down my neck. By the time I flipped it out, it was rock hard, pointing up in the air and jumping as if he was cumin. I stroked it slowly with both hands and watched the head flick in and out. I just had to put it in my mouth. I ran my tongue over it like those girls with the banana 🍌 on YouTube before going throat deep. You know that feeling you get when the toothbrush goes too far while brushing your teeth? That’s how I felt as if I was gonna die. He looked at me and smiled; grabbing on my tits. I was wetter than the sea. I kept stroking and sucking till my mouth got tired. He slid my zipper down with his right hand while taking off my clothes with the left. As much as I wanted to fuck him I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught with my clothes off. I laid flat on his table and had him shift my undies instead. He rubbed his dick up and down, passing my tight entrance. “Slippery”, he whispered and smiled. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought I pissed myself. He stuck his tongue in my ears and slapped my pussy with his hard dick. I was dying for him to go balls deep. Kisses on my neck and a wet tongue running all over my cheeks. I exploded from the excitement I was feeling. He slid the head inside my creamy heaven and watched it run to his balls before stroking me sweet and tender. I trembled like a leaf in the wind. Front way, back way, sideway. I was getting dick for days. We fucked until I was numb, but even then I didn’t want to stop until he bust a nut. Out my pussy and in my mouth his dick went. Squeezing his pecks, scratching his balls and grabbing his ass. “Drip, drip, drip” went his kids down my throat.

It tasted like spoiled soursop or maybe it’s because I ate that “sour sour” a little before 😂. We were about to start again when the janitor pushed the door. Nigga turned Bruce Lee, acting like he was doing press ups. 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30. I couldn’t help but laugh although I was mad she interrupted my dick session. I smiled all the way home feeling like I had accomplished a mild stone. I had never gone home that late before and caused more drama than pleasure. I could hardly explain myself to my mom and that earned me several slaps across the face. I went to school the next morning looking like I had a conflict a beehive. Again, I became the class clown. And after giving him such high standard A+ pussy, I thought the nigga would have picked up for me. He acted like he didn’t know me and even made fun of me. I hated him so much, I didn’t even remember he had taken my virginity.

I bumped into him today and god damn, I wanna suck his dick all over again 🙄😔🤦‍♂️. I took his number but I don’t even know what to text and say. Fuck you Bouyd lol, do not judge me and do not post my name 😂. I want to fuck him so bad. “Bun mi man fi Christmas”

Yours truly,

Jade ❣️

[tantum-tenebris]

ff fic: ember

“She’s…perfect.”

Willow fondled the small lavae with care as she lifted it onto her lap. The lava was warm and dripping down her arms, but overall it seemed to be coherent and possessed a gelatin-like quality. It didn’t scorch her like it did to the others.

She had left Wilson in charge of babysitting the egg. He looked like he needed something to do, and she was way too busy with stupid camp chores to actually take care of it, and he did seem to want to show Ms. Wickerbottom how responsible he was. So, Willow decided she’d kill three birds with one stone!

When the lavae hatched, he brought the baby to her straight away, rambling words of excitement and affection: they were parents! She wished she had the time to have watched pretty fires with it, but it made Wilson really happy. And if Wilson was happy, she was happy!

Wilson said the lavae was a girl. Willow wanted to put a cute little bow on top of her cute little head.

Together, the two sat in camp as they lovingly examined their new baby. She planted kisses on her goopy face. “My own little burninator.”

She handed the baby to Wilson. It wriggled and squirmed in his gloved hands and he looked like he was gonna cry. “Aww, who’s a good monster?”

Willow smacked him playfully.

“Do you like her?” Willow asked.

He sniffed once. “Of course I do! She’s adorable.” The lavae seemed to chirp happily at this and nuzzled against Wilson. His wide grin spoke of a very proud parent.

In the midst of their bonding, they failed to hear the quiet tapping of footsteps against the floorboard.

“Dears, I don’t suppose you’d mind taking care of your pet outside of camp? Its flammable properties impose a great risk. Wouldn’t want our home burning down, would we?”

The couple looked up from their distraction. Ms. Wickerbottom was examining their baby with a curious stare and was tapping her heel disapprovingly. Aww, but they weren’t even doing anything wrong!

Willow stood up and brushed the dust and embers from her skirt. “She’s not a pet!”

“That doesn’t change the risk at hand, dear.” The elder woman’s harsh glare turned to meet Willow’s eyes. Defeated, Willow kept her head down, knowing she could not win an argument, and wordlessly moved to the outskirts of their camp. Wilson followed in suit, mumbling quietly to the baby who began to wriggle restlessly in his grasp. Out here, the walls were short and in need of repairing. There were few things to burn. Sticks and shrubs, but nothing truly exciting, like a big, dense forest.

“I don’t see why we gotta do this. Doesn’t she trust us?” Willow wondered if Ms. Wickerbottom’s suggestion was directed towards her rather than her responsible scientist.

Wilson shrugged. “She’s got a point. Our lavae does seem to be highly flammable…” His voice trailed off. He was watching the baby burn saplings as they spoke.

“Aww!” She knelt down and gave her soft, encouraging pats.

He cleared his throat. “It’s no issue for me to take care of her out here. Though, I do wonder how i’ll be able to gather food for myself. And with winter approaching..”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I can stop by every day and give you some,” she said with a smile beginning to curl at the corners of her mouth, “and I can visit my baby!”

Wilson seemed satisfied with this idea. The lavae rested in a crisp black circle, tired and sleepy, already having burned everything around it.

“She’s just like you,” he said with complete adoration. Willow was sure his cold heart had melted, then.

She saw something approaching in the corner of her eye. She didn’t realize how tense she was until her shoulders relaxed - it was just her friend. Gee, her motherly instincts kicked in already!

“Wolfgang, c’mere! I wanna show you something.”

The Strongman gasped. He crouched down to get a better look, hands finding a comfortable position on his knees. “Ah! Is tiny baby!”

“Isn’t she just the cutest?” Willow turned to look at her boyfriend, who appeared to be deep in thought. She nudged him gently, snapping him out of his trance. “What’re we gonna name her?”

“Mmh, uh,” Wilson shook his head. “Did you have any ideas?”

“No, not really…”

Willow was rarely presented the opportunity to name things. In fact, she always declined the offer when given the chance to name things. It just wasn’t important, and she couldn’t find herself caring about names. But this was different, and when she finally gave names a thought, she found that they usually sounded stupid in her head.

Thankfully, Wolfgang spoke up. “How about Ember?”

Wilson clasped his hands. “Oh! That’s lovely.”

“It’s perfect!” Willow agreed. It was cute, short, and fiery! Just like her.

She rolled the name on her tongue, liking how it sounded.

From then on, Ember did not leave Wilson’s side.

As promised, he resided in the edges of their camp, far enough that Ember’s fires wouldn’t cause mass destruction. Each day Willow visited her small, adorable little family.

Wilson’s makeshift camp appeared to be in no way comfortable, but it seemed to have successfully served its one purpose: taking care of Ember.

It was cozy during the harsh winter nights. Ember’s gooey lava-shell seemed to encompass the camp in a nice, warm glow. Needless to say, Willow felt a lot happier coming to visit. The smile on her face was infectious. Being here was way better than staying at camp where everybody argued all the time.

Here, it felt…like a home. Was this what homes always felt like? Warm, and safe, and loving? It all felt so strange to her. Willow couldn’t help but be jealous of all the other survivors who had wonderful childhoods.

But they had all experienced that in the past. She was experiencing this now.

Gee, she sure missed out!

Right now, she was leaning into Wilson’s embrace and watching the fire with much interest. Their baby was too focused on chewing a piece of burnt lumber to pay attention to her drowsy parents.

Willow gave the top of Ember’s head a little rub. “Didja feed her yet?”

He nodded his head and it tickled her neck slightly. “This evening,” he said, stifling a yawn. “And I’m beginning to run low on ashes.”

Like the Dragonfly, Ember had acquired a taste for ashes. While they were generally easy to obtain, she was a very hungry baby, and they’d go through piles quickly.

“I can get you more tomorrow,” she offered, and then said, “I think Ember wants to play!”

The arm around her waist tightened by just a touch. He mumbled something under his breath, creating a tiny puff of smoke in the chilly winter air. Wilson did look pretty tired. Maybe she could come up with a different solution?

“Hey,” she rubbed the curve of his back, “I can take Ember somewhere if you wanna get some sleep.”

He’d been working hard all day and night, having managed both chores and babysitting. It was the least she could do for being absent.

Wilson seemed to agree with this. “If it’s no trouble.”

Gently, Willow untangled herself from his grasp and slipped into her winter gear. She lifted the lavae into her loving arms and turned to wave.

“Goodnight, Wilson!” She looked down at the baby. “Can you say ‘goodnight’, Ember?”

Ember buzzed happily, making excited chirps.

“Good girl!”

Leaving Wilson to rest, she began the short trek back to camp. Heavy snow crunched under her boots as she wallowed through the deep piles of snow that had quickly piled up in the short weeks since winter began.

She could see the large flames from camp casting shadows along the stone walls, dancing wildly. The other survivors must’ve been feeling the bitter chill, as it was unlike them to have built up such a hearty fire. Maybe she could come back later, when all business was said and done. Roasting something over the fire did sound nice.

Willow walked past the kitchen, where some of her friends were cooking up a quick midnight meal. They did not pay any mind to the lava baby in her arms, thankfully; she didn’t feel like explaining anything to them right now.

Upon approaching Ms. Wickerbottom’s room, Willow brought her knuckles to the wooden gate and knocked two or three times.

“Ms. Wickerbottom?”

The lady in question was sitting in what looked to be the makeshift rocking chair Willow helped build with her Girl Scout skills.

Ms. Wickerbottom looked up from her book and smiled a sweet grandma smile. “Hello, dear! Are you in need of assistance?”

She nodded her head and opened the gate to let herself in. Ember’s glowing eyes searched the area curiously, having rarely been in camp. She squirmed in Willow’s arms, wanting to be put down.

“I- Ember, no,” she pried her finger out of the lavae’s nibbling mouth. “Um. I was wondering if you would be able to watch over Ember for a few hours! Wilson and I really need sleep.”

She fixed her glasses. “Ah, not fully prepared for the difficulties of raising a child yet, I see. Of course, dear! I will see to it that Ember is safe under my care.”

Willow’s eyes narrowed. “‘Not fully prepared’? What’s that supposed t’mean?” Ember was perfectly fine! Willow thought she and Wilson were great parents.

Ms. Wickerbottom chuckled, amused by the sight of Willow’s tiny, confused pout. “I’m just teasing, sweetie.” She put on gloves that were clearly meant for handling hot materials.

Willow carefully handed the baby to her, to see how Ember would react to someone other than her parents holding her. She didn’t seem to pay any mind, and bounced happily in the old woman’s hands.

“She really likes you!” Willow beamed and blew Ember a kiss. “Bye now, baby. Be a good little burninator for Ms. Wickerbottom!”

She waved again to the librarian and once parted ways, sighed in relief. She was so tired, and she didn’t even do most of the work! Willow could only imagine how Wilson felt. The dork was probably in a deep sleep by now, dreaming about science or something.

Aw, she did miss him and Ember real badly, though. She’d have to wait to see them tomorrow morning!

For now, Willow decided to gather charcoal since their supplies were getting low. Forest fires were much prettier at night, anyway. It stood out colorfully against the darkness, something she just couldn’t appreciate as much in the daylight. The fires were almost hypnotizing.

Grabbing her sharp, golden axe, Willow made her way towards one of the camp’s many exits.

There was a soft, murmuring voice she could hear through the trees. She stopped walking - the crunching snow under her feet was very loud - and moved closer to the source of the noise.

Moving one of the snow-covered branches that obstructed her view, Willow could see Ms. Wickerbottom rocking slightly in her chair, and reading a book aloud to Ember, who sat obediently in her lap. After Willow had left, she had made cookies sprinkled with ashes that Ember was now feasting on. She looked like a fat, happy baby.

What a cutie! Willow, feeling much better about leaving for her trip after seeing that Ember was in tremendously good hands, continued onwards through the deathly chill of night.

“Willow! Willow!”

Wilson burst into camp, clutching his side and panting too heavily for proper speech. It startled the rest of the camp into silence and everyone stared with wide, open eyes.

Willow came forward. She approached Wilson, catching him with her arms as he clumsily stumbled into her.

“Wilson, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” She looked over his body for any signs of injury and found none. The side of his ribcage that he appeared to be sheltering was probably from his spontaneous run and not something like a gaping wound.

Willow looked around. “Where’s Ember?” And why was he in camp when he was supposed to be out in the fields taking care of her?

Frustrated with his lack of response, Willow huffed and lightly pinched his skin. “Answer me!”

He held something dark in his hands and was trying to nudge it towards her own. Willow took the object and couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Wilson…this isn’t, it’s not-”

He wrapped his hands around hers, sweeping his thumbs over the backs of her hands. Freezing cold, like the snowfall around them. The thing in her palms possessed a faint warmth, but it was receding quickly.

“L-Look,” he said, chest rising up and down as he struggled to regulate his breathing, “she’s metamorphosing!”

Willow blinked once, twice, at the solid hunk of rock, her eyes tracing the outline of the indistinct shape until she understood what she was looking at. It mapped Ember’s structure perfectly.

The survivors whispered to each other, intrigued but confused by what was going on. “Her death was bound to happen,” she heard Wendy murmur ever so quietly.

No. No, Ember wasn’t dead. Willow refused to believe so.

Her eyes met Wilson’s. He was grinning like a madman. “What do you mean? She’s not…dead, is she?” She asked, uncertain about how to feel about her daughter’s new form.

Wilson looked taken aback at the notion. “N-No! Of course not,” he reassured her, although it did not do much good. “She’s in a cocoon. Ember’s still alive, see?”

No, she didn’t see. The chilled cocoon in her hands didn’t feel alive, but if what Wilson said was true, then she’d have to trust him and his stupid scientific theory…even if it didn’t always make sense. Ember wasn’t going to turn into a butterfly!

Willow pouted. Her uncertainty was overwhelming and she knew Wilson could sense it.

“I have an idea,” he said slowly. “Do you remember the rock den? Where we saw the tiny critters?”

She nodded. The place with all the cute baby animals! How could she forget?

“W-We can go back there and see if it’ll hasten the transformation process!” His hands moved to grip her shoulders, a big dorky grin on his face.

Admittedly, seeing him so confident did manage to calm her down. Just a little bit. She refused to see her baby leave her so quickly, and it didn’t hurt to believe that there was hope somewhere out there. The magic on this island could bring people back to life! Couldn’t it bring back animals, too?

“Mmn…. okay, we’ll do it.” Willow stroked the top of Ember’s head with her finger, feeling her new silky texture. “Can we bring some chili?”

“Yes! Here- let me go make some.” Wilson scurried off to the kitchen and began looting through the fridge.

While Ember’s diet mainly consisted of ashes, Willow sometimes snuck her treats. She particularly took a liking to spicy chili, and Willow hoped that the snack would have a scent strong enough to coax her out of her cocoon.

At dawn, the pair set off into the wilderness, with Ms. Wickerbottom and that jerk, Maxwell, following shortly behind. The trek would take a couple of hours through the strong, frigid blizzard. Willow huddled closer to Wilson as they walked. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air, clouded with fear and concern coming from all members the group. Willow didn’t like it, not one bit.

“How did she…um.. freeze, anyway?” Willow asked, breaking the ice. It was hard to hear her own voice. The blizzard muffled everything around her.

They were close enough, anyway. Wilson held her free hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Ice hounds,” he said, raising his voice slightly, “They were chasing after Wendy. I killed them but they died too close to Ember. It all happened so quickly…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Willow.”

He seemed disappointed in himself. Ugh, that wasn’t fair! He did nothing wrong. It was the right thing to do, even if something maybe-unfortunate happened because of it.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Don’t beat yourself up!” There was optimism returning to her tone again. “It’s not your fault! You didn’t know.”

He sighed. Behind them, the faint voices of the two older members chatting away at what was to come. Willow wondered why Maxwell offered to come along when he knew perfectly well that the couple did not want him here.

But Ms. Wickerbottom would have insisted that Maxwell was trying to redeem himself, blah blah blah. They were immature, and all that other stupid stuff.

So, fine. Maxwell came along because he also wanted to see what would become of Willow’s cocooned daughter. In a way, she thought that he felt like a guardian figure to the lavae or something. He was really weird, that man.

When they approached the snow-covered den, time seemed to slow down. Huddling around the rock, Willow and Wilson came forward, holding their bearings.

She felt a twinge of nervousness building in her chest. Would this really work?

She looked to Wilson. His gaze was calm and focused. To a scientist, this would just be another experiment, of course. “Ready?”

Willow nodded. Together, they brought forth their items, placing it inside the den.

For awhile, nothing happened.

Willow began to expect that perhaps they had done something wrong, as they had summoned critters here previously without ever any difficulty. But then, Ember’s cocooned form began to wriggle as the rock began to split, and she struggled to break free from her solidified mold. The group watched in suspense as a tiny creature appeared from the cocoon, squeaking and whimpering at the harsh winds that harassed its fragile body.

If there was any sign of hesitance before, Willow quickly disregarded it.

She stumbled forward and reached out to pet the creature. It didn’t bite or scratch at her hands, and instead nuzzled the fuzziness of her glove.

“Ember?” Willow said, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. She looked different than the bigger, badder dragonfly she had killed in order to acquire the egg.

Ember looked more ‘dragon’ than ‘fly’. She was a pretty shade of crimson and pink, with a trio of horns atop her head and more dragon-like features. Her scales were smooth and her spines sharp. Ember burped, having eaten their offering of spicy chili, and puffed a little fireball into the cold winter air.

She was still the same silly baby, but with even more fire! Now Ember was trying to chew on one of Willow’s fingers - something she did as a tiny lavae. There was no doubt that this was the same Ember.

“She’s so beautiful!” Wilson knelt beside her and joined with petting their daughter, scratching the top of Ember’s head with a wide, happy smile. “Look, she’s got my hair!”

Wait…hair? Oh. Duh. The three horns atop her head resembled his own tufts of fluffy hair. That resemblance was pretty uncanny.

Then Wilson pointed to the lower two horns sticking out against the sides of her face. “And she’s got yours, too.”

Willow peered at the squirming baby and counted a total of five horns. “Aww. It’s like we were made for each other!”  

She heard sniffling. Wilson was rubbing at his bright blue eyes.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

He looked shocked. She didn’t know why. Fathers usually held their babies. Maybe he wasn’t used to being regarded as one.

His quick nod shook off the snow that was collecting in his hat. Gently, she handed the dozing dragon child to him, and moved his hand up to where her head was, to cradle it. She could tell he was shaking real badly.

“Careful, she’s sleeping!” Willow chided with a quiet hiss.

Without warning, Ember abruptly stopped her playtime and had fallen asleep in her arms, snoring lightly. Her tail twitched cutely. She looked like she was having pleasant dreams.

This was… nice. It would be nicer if it wasn’t snowing cold arctic like no tomorrow, and it would be even nicer if Maxwell was a hundred feet away and not awkwardly breathing over their shoulders.

Still, it was nice.

Willow scratched below Ember’s chin and smiled upon hearing her small, confused squeaks.

“I love her,” said Wilson. “I love you.”

A smile and a sweet touch, and she opened her mouth to respond but the withering voice that came out was not her own.

“Say, Higgsbury… don’t you have an affinity for bat bats?”

The trio simultaneously looked up from their touching moment to glare fire into Maxwell’s eyes. He backed down, waving his arms in excuse. It was true, no one cared.

There was a soft, wrinkly hand on her shoulder that snapped Willow out of her I-hate-Maxwell reverie. Ms. Wickerbottom smiled as she took another peek at the baby, who still occupied all of Wilson’s love and attention.

“Let’s head home before it gets too cold,” she suggested.

Willow nodded her head eagerly. Her skin was freezing! The thought of starting a hot, blazing bonfire exhilarated her and warmed her somewhat, but real fires were better than fake dreamy ones.

She tugged on Wilson’s coat with a big, excited grin etched on her face. “Let’s go!”

The rain was almost unbearable this time around.

After having suffered through a deathly winter, the group was soon met with another terrible fate. A fate with wet, slippery everything and frogs that constantly fell from the sky.

Willow donned a rain hat instead of her usual coat. She had found it in the back of the wardrobe and thought it looked cute. The hat looked even cuter when it poured water into someone else’s eyes.

Right now she was in camp with a roaring fire all to herself. Her scientist was gone, probably doing something stupid in the woods or bleeding to death or both. Ember was exploring the camp, playing with whatever junk she could get her dragon claws on as she flew from room to room.

Willow trusted her baby enough to let her fly around wherever she pleased. It wasn’t like Ember to stray far from her, anyway.

But as she poked her stick into the fire, there would be a growl every now and then. Hmm. She oughtta go check it out before Ember got herself into trouble!

Raindrops splashed gently against her yellow hat as she turned her head, searching rapidly for the wyvernling. She paused in her search, waiting in silence, like an animal sneaking on prey.

She heard another growl coming from behind the walls of her room and tiptoed as quietly as she could manage.

When she peeked around the corner, she saw Ember gnawing on something clunky.

Ughhh, not again! Was she teething or something? That’s what babies did, right?

Willow pulled on the foreign object in Ember’s mouth, only to have Ember tug harder, like it was some sorta nasty game of tug o’ war.

“Em, no! Bad!” She scolded, slipping the toy from her jaws with a final pop!

Willow stared at her prize in shock as a piece of the toy whizzed past them.

Something had broken off. Willow held the drool-covered object by the tip of her fingers. It looked like the stupid robot toy that WX-78 seemed to cherish so much. How’d Ember even find this?

“Groooooss! It’s all yucky! They’re not gonna want this back.” Especially when Hal’s head had popped off and was now hiding somewhere in the grass. Maybe she could chuck the remains over the cliff later. Or even better, throw it into the fire and watch it burn! Hal was nasty now, why would that hunk-a junk wanna keep it?

She tsked. Ember was usually biting things these days, but never other people’s toys! Aww, now she’d have to cover her tracks or else everyone would disapprove of her.

“You can eat this when you’re bigger, sweetie. You’ll choke!”

Ember stared up with shimmering green eyes that shone with naivety and innocence. She burped once, releasing several puffs of smoke into the air, signaling that, yes, she did in fact eat something. So adorable!

Hal did happen to be missing an arm, too. Oops! Oh well. That was none of her business.

Willow scooped up the baby. Ember found a comfortable spot on her mother’s shoulder and nuzzled into one of her pigtails.

She wondered if Ember would someday grow to be as big as the Dragonfly. Willow could have her own fire-breathing dragon! She could train Ember to bite wrinkly old magic men and bad robots and to set humongous forest fires.  

“Guess we’ll have to hide this somewhere, huh?”

She glanced at the robot covered in baby dragon drool.

“Yep. Nasty.”

[hypnoobiwan]

Necro-smut:  Final Exam

While searching for something else, I discovered this old story that I wrote for an MC Forum event back in 2009 and never published anywhere else.

This is fantasy and contains examples of egregiously poor consent practices.  Doing this sort of thing in real life, without advance consent, would be at best sleazy, at worst criminal.  It’s also very hetero-centric, which is a function of the characters and the original intended audience.  (And 8 years ago, that was what I knew best.)

Final Exam

© Copyright 2009 by Wiseguy

Tracy kept looking at the slip of paper, the final assignment from her Advanced Hypnotic Writing class:

This exam has only one requirement: write a paper that influences the reader to give you the best possible grade for this class.  Demonstrate creativity as well as mastery of the concepts.

It couldn't really be this easy, could it?  No, Tracy smelled a rat. Surely Professor Hartman wouldn't subject himself to twenty attempts at manipulating his mind, even knowing what they were and what their goal was.  The whole purpose of the class, after all, was to teach people to bend minds through writing.  

Then she grinned.  No, of course he wouldn't put his own mind at risk. He'd do what every college professor with tenure does:  leave the grunt work to his aide.  And that gave Tracy her big idea.

“Creativity,” Tracy wrote, “is vital to all forms of persuasion.  Professor Hartman himself promotes creativity through his use of metaphor in his lectures and in his writings, which helps to explain why his class attendance attendance rate, like his salary, is the highest in the University.  

“Professor Hartman might well liken crafting a persuasive essay to spinning a clear, sparkling, crystal top.  It's easy to imagine that top, rotating smoothly on its point as its facets catch the light and throw it back in every direction.  How much prettier would it be, even, if one were to shine a light into it, producing an inner glow that shifts and jitters as the top slows and wobbles a bit?  And so the writer must invoke the reader's imagination, so that as you read these words you also think about that top and imagine it glowing, sparkling, and gradually slowing, weakening, wobbling.  And the vividness of that image might even cause the reader's mind to slow, to wander, as the top slows and wobbles, and that is perfectly okay because the mind is made to wander – it's in each person's nature to allow the mind to drift even as the eyes continue to read, to absorb the thoughts and ideas from the text directly into the mind, unfiltered, so easily and naturally.

Tracy felt her grin widen as she continued writing, embedding more and more suggestions designed to relax and disarm the reader's mind.  In her own mind she imagined Scott, that cute grad student who seemed to be Hartman's favorite flunky, reading her worlds and becoming glassy-eyed and still.  He will be mine, she promised herself.

“And even as you continue to relax your mind, to absorb and retain all of the thoughts and ideas I'm sharing with you now, you may not even consciously realize how the more you relax your mind the more easily you can understand and accept the nature of persuasion and the ability of mere written words to program the reader's thoughts and behaviors.

“Truly persuasive writing such as this taps into the strongest drives inherent in all readers, as noted by Hogan in The Art of Persuasion.  There is the drive for survival, for food and shelter, for security, and the reader can easily associate the fulfillment of these drives with taking the actions suggested in this text, but of course the strongest, the most easily invoked and the most powerfully persuasive of the basic drives is the sex drive.

“Even now, you can perhaps imagine a time when you were extremely satisfied sexually; when you felt secure and virile and desired, fulfilled completely.  And as you recall that feeling now, allowing it to grow and intensify, you may wonder exactly how or when you can have that feeling again.  And you may even imagine taking proactive steps to make that happen ...”

Tracy wrote and edited and polished her piece until nearly 4am.  Her pussy ached from the desire it induced in her just reading it; it had to work.  But just to be sure, she opened her email client.

Roger,

I need a second opinion on this and you're the best writer I know.  Would you give this a quick read-through?  I'm not worried about details yet; just give me your gut reaction to the piece as a whole.

I owe you one!

-T

She'd fibbed a bit:  Roger wasn't really that great a writer.  But he was one of those guys who was always willing to help, and he didn't have a girlfriend to object if the test worked.  Close enough.

Tracy flopped onto the bed and slept.

A few hours later, Roger White read Tracy's email and sighed.  He had his own last-minute work to do without also being Tracy's proofreader; this was his morning to spend studying.  Still, he figured a couple of minutes wouldn't put him too far off schedule.

He began reading, but his heart wasn't in it.  All this oblique persuasion stuff was hard to get a grip on and before long his mind was wandering all over the place, like a top winding down.  Down ... down ...

Tracy woke to a loud knocking.  “Trace?  Wake up, Trace!”

It took a moment for the cobwebs to clear.  Recognizing the voice helped.  “Just a minute, Roger.  I'm not decent.”

She grabbed an oversize V-neck shirt from the bottom drawer and pulled it on, making sure the hem came down far enough to cover the essentials, and opened the door.  “Hi, Rog.  C'mon in.”

He's here, she told herself, and he looks a little fidgety.  So far, so good.  She waved him toward the study chair and climbed back onto the bed, deliberately moving slowly enough for him to get an eyeful of her legs and backside before settling into a cross-legged position.  

Roger's eyes took in every crease and fold in the white shirt and delivered the message to his brain that Tracy was naked underneath it.  Was it his imagination, or had he caught a micro-glimpse of pussy before she had a chance to smooth out the shirt to cover herself?  No matter; in his mind he was picturing her naked, legs open as they were now but with his face buried between them.  Weird, a little piece of his mind thought, since I don't really like her that much.  Still the image persisted.

“You want me?”

“Yeah,” he answered automatically.  Then he realized what he'd just said and how it sounded.  “I mean, to see you.  About your paper.”

Tracy glanced at her alarm clock and saw it was only a little after 8am. “You read it already?”

“Uh huh.  A quick read, like you asked.  Actually, I might have read it more than once.  It was a little hard to follow in places.”

“A little hard, eh?  Did it get harder as you read?”

Something got hard, all right, he thought, and felt the stirrings again as he noticed her leaning forward, which improved the already hot view of her cleavage.  “Hard in parts, easier in others.”  He had to work not to stare.

She slid forward and let her legs unfold so that her feet touched the floor.  The shirt rode up underneath her, of course, and Roger found himself imagining her bare ass and getting hard again in spite of himself.  Then Tracy leaned forward and put a hand on his knee.  “Was there a part that affected you more than the rest, that made you want to take action?”

The blood was rapidly abandoning his brain, but Roger forced himself to focus.  “There was a place near the end where you talked about assertiveness,” he said.  “Knowing what you want and daring to take it.”

“Oh, yes.”  Her voice became almost a purr.  “It feels so good to be powerful, to take control, doesn't it?  Seeing what you want, Roger, knowing it's right there, exposed, available, and wanting so much. And then letting your mind relax, and give your body permission to feel good, to take what you want.  You know how much you want it right now, Roger, don't you?  How long will it be before you act on your desire?  Will you do it now, or will you let the desire keep building inside you until it overcomes every last bit of hesitation? How much do you want it?”

Roger's cock throbbed and his mouth went dry.  He lurched out of the chair toward Tracy, grabbed her face in his hands, and kissed her hard on the lips.  His tongue pushed into her mouth and found hers and he knew that his desire would be satisfied.  Barely aware of his own actions he yanked the shirt up and over her head and pushed Tracy down onto the bed.  He held her down and kissed his way down her body from the neck to the crotch, pausing only briefly to suck on each nipple.

In moments Roger was where he'd imagined himself just a few minutes before, with his face planted firmly between Tracy's legs licking her with enthusiasm.  He felt his way around, vaguely in his mind trying to identify the different parts, and slowly worked out which ones would make Tracy squeal and squeeze her legs around him when he licked them just so.  His tongue found the button and Tracy came hard, groaning and clamping his head between her thighs.  He held his spot and kept working it until her legs went floppy and loose.

While Tracy lay panting Roger drank in the sight of her naked body.  I should fuck her now, he thought, but for some reason the idea of putting his cock inside her didn't seem anywhere near as compelling as the urge to go down on her had been.  In fact, the longer he looked at her the more remembered that he wasn't really into her and the more awkward he felt about what he'd just done.

Finally Tracy recovered enough to look up at him and sigh happily.  “You do know a thing or two about taking what you want,” she said, sitting up slowly.  “Why don't you let me take care of you now?”  

Her hands moved forward toward his zipper but Roger retreated.  “That's okay, thanks,” he stammered.  “I, uh, really need to get to the library.  I'm supposed to be meeting Wendy Cho there at 8:45.”

She glanced at the clock.  “You're already late, then.  So I guess I owe you two.”

“Yeah, okay,” he fumbled.  “Glad I could help.  Ummm ... later, Trace.”

She let him get to the door and pulled the sheet over just enough to cover herself.  “Oh, Roger?”

“What?”

“Before you meet up with Wendy, you might want to wash your face.”

He touched his chin and felt the residue of her juices.  “Oh ... yeah. Thanks.”

She waited until the door closed before laughing to herself.  Oh, yes, this was going to be good.

Changing the test paper she'd sent Roger to reflect her ultimate goal was easy.  Attaching it to an innocent cover email, addressed to Hartman but copied to Scott per usual practice, was also easy.  

It was the waiting that drove Tracy up the wall.

She'd submitted a full day ahead of deadline in hopes of landing on top of the pile.  Still, she waited four agonizing days for the call she'd been hoping for.

Pausing only long enough for a quick gleeful squeal, she flipped open her phone.  “This is Tracy.”

“Hi, Tracy,” came the voice on the other end.  “This is Scott, Professor Hartman's TA.  I've been reading your final exam paper, and ... well, I have some feedback for you.  Can you meet with me?”

“You want me right now?” she asked, grinning.  

His voice was hesitant.  “If that's okay.  I ... umm ... think it would be best while it's fresh in my mind.  Do you know where Mesirow Hall is?”

“Mesirow ... isn't that one of the older dorms?”

“That's right.  Behind the Sciences building.  My roommate's away, so it's easier to focus here.  Is that okay?”

“Give me twenty minutes?”

The relief in his voice was so cute.  “Yes, of course.  Great.  I'll, uh, see you then.  Room A10.”

Mesirow Hall was, as Tracy suspected, one of the older dorm buildings.  It had a stately look to it, with ivy growing up the brick sides and black ironwork around the stairs and front door.  A10 turned out to be in a far corner of the ground floor.  Tracy noted the cinder block interior walls and approved.  Yes, she thought, it would be nice and quiet here.  Which was fine for her purposes.

She knocked on the door and it opened almost immediately.  “Hi,” Scott said, unconsciously running a hand over his unruly hair. “Please, come in.”

The room was bigger than hers, she noted.  The furniture was older, too, but in good shape.  And most importantly, the bed looked solid.  'You want me?”

Just like Roger, Scott fell into the trap.  “Yeah.  I mean, to talk to you.  About your paper.”  He stopped and made a visible effort to compose himself.  “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Tracy sat down on his bed and allowed her right hand to come to rest in a way that invited him to join her.  Sure enough, he moved quickly from the wooden chair he'd been heading for to sit at her side.  Like taking candy from a baby, she thought, and for just a moment allowed herself to imagine what it would feel like when he went down on her.  She turned her body toward his, letting a hand come to rest on his thigh.  “What do you think?”

Scott went into a mental vapor-lock that showed in his face.  Tracy smiled and added, “About my paper.  You want to give me feedback, you said?”

He cleared his head.  “Oh, right.  I'm sorry.  A little scatterbrained today.  You know how it is sometimes, when your mind just starts to wander off on its own.  Sometimes you just find yourself getting distant and dreamy.  You can remember a time when you felt that, can't you?”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed, feeling a touch of that dreamy feeling herself. “It can be a pleasure to let go to that sometimes, can't it?  So tempting and so easy.”

“But not very productive,” he pointed out.  “So please do excuse me. I'll do my best to stay focused because I know how easy it is, when someone just starts droning on, to sort of tune out and let your thoughts take their own path.  And sometimes it's a very pleasurable path, that you can let your mind take, even as you do your best to look as though you're consciously listening to me and agreeing with what I say.”

Tracy nodded quietly, waiting for the chance to make her move.

“I love your imagery in this piece,” he continued.  “That description of the crystal top, spinning and reflecting the light, capturing the mind as it slows and wanders, winds down ... that's a powerful bit of writing, Tracy, and you must be very pleased that it's so wonderfully effective.  It feels good to imagine the reader, Tracy, imagining that top and feeling that open, compliant state quietly creeping over the mind.  You can do that, of course, I know you can, and that's perfectly okay.”

Tracy smiled again, watching Scott's eyes as he described her imaginary top.  She could see them growing fuzzy and soft so she focused on his voice, listening to the signs of his increasing arousal and desire. Her pussy quivered lightly in anticipation and she allowed herself to idly stroke his thigh.

“... and I know that Professor Hartman will be impressed with the creative way that you invoke the sex drive,” Scott was saying.  “We both know that deep down, Tracy, everyone craves sex.  A woman like you wants to have her pussy filled with a hot, hard cock, thrusting into her.  You know how good that feels, don't you, Tracy? Having a cock inside you, riding it, enveloping it, feeling it grinding and thrusting and stroking you from the inside?  How hot and wet does it make you to think about that right now, to think about riding a cock, pinning a man down and taking him inside you until you feel him come?”

Tracy's mind went straight to her groin, recalling the exquisite pleasure of being filled with a stiff, thick, skillful cock.  A cock like ... Scott's.  Yeah, Scott's.  But wait a minute, that's not what I --

Scott saw the disorientation and pressed his advantage.  “Some women can find that just thinking it, Tracy, just imagining what it would feel like to be riding a hard cock can make you want it, don't you agree? When do you suppose that urge first took hold, that quiet desire and arousal that made you want to seduce me?  How many nights did you lay in your bed, touching yourself, maybe stroking your breasts the way you are now, imagining what it will feel like when you ride my cock? Did you fantasize about persuading me to go down on you, making you come and come and come, and then sliding my cock inside you and fucking your brains out?  How hot does that make you right now, Tracy?  How wet is your pussy right now?”

Tracy squirmed.  Damned wet, she answered.  Aw, fuck, I can't concentrate!  Her mind filled with images of herself seizing what she wanted, reaching out and taking it.  And what she wanted was right there, just a foot away at most.  

Scott was still talking but Tracy had heard enough.  She bowled him over onto his back and yanked at the closure on his jeans.  He lifted his hips and helped her slide them down along with his boxers, and Tracy moaned in anticipation as she saw that he was already mostly erect. She bent down and took him into her mouth, sucking steadily as she worked his hard cock in and out of her mouth, deeper and longer, getting him so nice and hard, so ready.  

Her pussy begged her to hurry up, so she reached down with one hand to undo her own jeans and reached inside to frig herself.  She was already soaking wet, and that was good because Scott's cock felt completely ready.

She stood up long enough to shove her jeans and panties down to her ankles and then pounced on Scott before he could begin to sit up. His mouth opened and she clamped a hand over it.  “Enough talk,” she told him as she rose up into position.  “I'm taking what I want now!”  

Scott felt her envelope his cock and groaned at the pleasure of it.  His hips moved with hers, finding a rhythm and then increasing the tempo. “That's it,” Tracy said.  “Just let your body take over, doing what it knows it craves.”  His eyes focused beyond her on something on the ceiling, so she stripped off her shirt and then her bra for good measure.  “If you want to stare at something,” she told him, “stare at me.  See how horny you made me and know that you're going to get the fucking of your life right now.”

Their eyes met and locked together.  Scott reached up with his hands and squeezed her breasts and she knew she had him at last.  Tracy rode him harder, faster, deeper, until his eyes rolled back and she felt the hot gush of his seed inside her.  “That's it!  Yes!  Yes!”

She felt him slow and twisted his nipple.  Scott yelped and looked at her again.  “You're not done yet,” she said.  “Not by a longshot. I'm gonna ride you until you beg me to stop.  I'll keep you hard for an hour if I have to and there's nothing you can do to stop it.” She reached back with a hand and found his balls, then stroked her finger along the sensitive area just beyond.  Scott groaned and his cock, which had started to soften, swelled back to full attention. “That's it, Scott.  Your body wants me and your mind wants me. Your only hope is to make me come so hard that I forget what I'm here for.”

He renewed his thrusts, this time putting a little side swivel into his hips to change the sensation.  Tracy's eyes widened and then closed and her head rolled back.  Her words slurred into unintelligible, almost animal sounds and for a few moments Scott was in complete control.

Then his body betrayed him.  His cock tingled and his balls filled and that sensation of pressure, building pressure that had to be released, took over again.  He groaned and sped up, and Tracy felt the change.  She bore down on him with her pelvic muscles, making every thrust a sweet agony.  “You want to come,” she said.  “You need to come.  But first you have to please me, Scott.  Please me and come for me NOW!”

He grabbed for her nipples and tweaked them hard.  Tracy shrieked, threw her head back, and couldn't hold back any longer.  Her body clenched and her chest heaved and her gasping cries tested the cinder blocks. Scott watched her in the throes and let go, letting his body come again and straining to hold her in position until the end.

Tracy flopped on top of Scott, both of them panting and sweating and too exhausted to speak.  After several long minutes her mind cleared and she realized she was naked, sweating, and had just willingly fucked a teacher's aide.  She quickly slid off the still-blissed Scott and slapped him across the face.

“Hey!” he complained.  “What was that for?”

“You duped me!  You used embedded suggestions to get me all hot and horny and then made me jump your fucking bones, you creep!”

His eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead.  “So?  Isn't that more or less what your paper was supposed to do to me?”

“No, of course not!  I was just going to make you ... want me ... “  She realized how feeble it sounded but just didn't have anything better. “So you'd give me an A after you went down on me.”

“So I'm a creep?”

Tracy heaved a heavy sigh.  “Okay, so you're not the only creep in the room.  How did you turn that around on me, anyway?”

His answer came with a chuckle.  “How do you think I met Hartman?  By taking his class, of course!  And I got an A on the final, thank you very much.”

Well, duh! Tracy chided herself.  She flopped back onto the bed and took his hand.  “And what grade will you give me?”

His eyes met hers and there was a tiny glint in them.  “You did make a compelling case.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in intense negotiations.

-wg 6/10/09