#even writing him angry i just think of those big wet cow eyes and i get all soft and mushy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

Final Hours pt. 2: The Illusion

synopsis: Living life at the House of the Children of the Star is supposed to be safe and comforting. So why can’t you shake this feeling that you’re not even close to being safe?

word count: 1808

tw: rough sex, breeding, curse words, nsfw

a/n: I absolutely lied. I’m not done writing for Geto. I’ve got about ten years of silence and material I can work off of. Well, that implies... that I don’t hop on the Naoya train.

You turn your head at the sound of water splashing in the bathtub, listening to a babbling Renji and Suguru playing around in the bubble-water. It was undoubtedly adorable seeing the soft side Renji pulled out of the curse user these days, especially now that he was wanted and - in an effort to protect what he had built - ruthless.

But even his lack of tenderness with those outside of his small circle (you, Renji, Mimiko, and Nanako) had a purpose. This purpose would be re-explained to you every so often, whispered to Renji when he was asleep, and seared into the brains of those who followed him. You saw the countless evenings he spent thinking, in meetings, consuming curses… You originally thought it would wear him down faster than Jujutsu Tech had, but he only seemed to grow more powerful with every passing day.

“All done,” Suguru announces, producing a towel-wrapped Renji with a wide smile. “Now we can get you settled in for bed.” Fatherhood is good for him, you think before smiling back and holding your arms out for the giggling child. Mimiko and Nanako could be heard playing around in the hallways, no doubt testing each other’s patience with a game of tag. But you don’t mind. Nothing really bothers you anymore. At least, that’s the way you wished it were.

When you place Renji down in the crib littered with beautiful blankets and stuffed animals, the nagging feeling returns. This is all an illusion, something whispers to you, but you push the feeling away. You've gotten better at doing that lately: ignoring the sinking feeling in your gut at dinner or the tiny twinge of fear you felt at night when everyone was asleep. After you tuck Renji in, you turn to Suguru, who waited patiently for you to join him in your shared bedroom.

When he swipes a hand over your shoulder and presses his thumbs into your upper back, you relax into his touch, allowing him to strip you of the tension in your body. “It’s perfect…” he whispers behind you, and you desperately want to agree; you really do. But you keep your mouth shut, knowing that any argument would be lost the moment he set his lips to your skin or smoothed his hands over your hips. “I love it here.”

“I know,” you answer softly, and his hands still on your back.

“Do you… like it?” The hurt in his voice is evident.

“I love it,” you lie easily, trying to convince yourself that you do love it here; the children are safe, you’re safe, and no one would dare cross Suguru to get to either you or the children.

Except Satoru and Shoko. The remembrance of the two sorcerers puts you on edge again, and a shudder passes through you. You don’t even step foot out of the House for fear of them finding you and taking a sledgehammer to what Suguru carefully crafted as a safe haven.

“And I love you,” Suguru whispers, bringing you back to the present. “Mother of my children, tune to my song, blood in my veins…”

“You’re only waxing poetic because you want something from me.” The observation earns a low chuckle from him, and he smooths his fingers over your hips, making them jerk forward a little. “Just say it.”

“I want another child with you,” he murmurs, fingers splayed across your belly. “I want to have a family full of sorcerer--”

“Will this family get rid of all the non-sorcerers in the world?” The thought that any child of yours would have the capacity - of be forced - to murder makes you sick to your stomach. “Is that why you want so many children?” You’re not sure what caused you to snap, but it’s obviously caught Suguru off guard.

“Watch your mouth.” The command is emphasized by one of his hands grabbing your chin from behind. “Do you think I won’t have completed my goal before we grow our family? I have enough power to do this without their help. Our children won’t have to lift a single finger,” he hisses into your ear, taking care to lower his voice so as to not disturb Renji.

“You really see me as some sort of breeding cow, don’t you?” Suguru lets go of your chin and shuts the door to your room, and you prepare for an argument. But instead of turning to you and pointing a finger before beginning to raise his voice, he grabs your chin again, and walks you back against the wall. You stare him down, not one to back down from a fight. But he doesn’t say a word when he presses his lips against yours, roughly pushing a hand under your shirt and grabbing a breast.

“You think I see you as a cow, hmm?” You exhale shakily, daring to jut your chin out a little in defiance. You knew this game: he would soften you up with a show of dominance, tease out your submissive side, and you’d crumble into his arms and give him just what he wanted. But tonight, you won’t go down without a fight.

Yes, of course you want to give in. You want him to touch you and drive you senseless, but not at the cost of bodily autonomy.

“Yeah,” you answer confidently, feeling his fingers slip down your stomach.

“You’d be sorely mistaken, then.” His lips press against your cheek and heat pools between your legs. Fuck. You curse yourself mentally, angry your body was reacting exactly how you knew it would. “I worship you, kitten. Shit, your body is a mere fraction of what I see when I look at you.” The admission makes you look into his eyes, but you see no trickery there. His grip on your chin slackens, and that same hand falls to your waist as he trails his lips down your neck, pausing to suck on the tender flesh. “You’re more than just a mother, y/n… You know that,” he murmurs against your shoulder, and you shiver under his touch.

Suguru hoists you up easily and takes you to the bed, pinning you underneath him as he presses his lips against yours once more. “Do I have permission to make love to you?” The request is whispered against one of your wrists, and you shiver again as his lips press against that spot, too. Your throat dries up and you swallow hard, trying to form the words you want to say, and when his black eyes flick down to yours, his gaze is hard and unwavering like a stone. “Or should I fuck you like the cow you assume I see you as?”

“Fuck me,” you blurt, and Suguru’s hands instantly duck beneath the hem of your long skirt, pushing it up around your waist. Without warning, he tears at your underwear - another pair gone - and pushes your knees back forcefully.

It isn’t long before you see his pants drop over the side of the bed and feel his fingers probe angrily at your entrance. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks breathily, extending one of your legs back sharply. The question is rhetorical; he’s obviously going to fuck you regardless. You nod anyways, and he presses into you. The pain is sharp and undeniable, but as you open your mouth to cry out, Suguru pushes a hand against it. “Shut the fuck up.” You feel the urge to struggle as he moves inside of you as you’re not wet enough. But he stops mid-stroke and lubricates himself with a trail of spit before working himself back into you. “That’s a good girl… lay there and take it.”

You whimper around his hand, but he doesn’t relent while he pushes into you with force. Suguru seems to be enjoying the view, but you aren’t allowed to lay on your back for much longer. When his cock slips free and his hand comes off of your mouth, there’s a moment where the air rushes into you, but that’s quickly overshadowed by Suguru moving you sideways across the bed, your head dangling off the edge precariously.

“Open,” he commands, and you obediently open your mouth for him to insert his rock hard cock. You can’t take much upside-down, but Suguru definitely tries to shove his entire length down your throat. When you reach your limit, you slap a hand against his thigh, trying to push him off, but he grunts and removes your fingers easily. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.” He places his large hands on your tits as an anchor before moving back and forth and fucking your face.

You don’t know how to cope. While he invades your mouth, the sorcerer above you takes your ankle and stretches your other leg back, placing your big toe in his mouth. His tongue wraps around the digit with ease before he moves to the other toes, sucking on them without a care in the world. You want to yell, scream at him that it’s all too much, but you can’t. Not with his cock stuffed in your mouth. And when his other hand comes off of your breast to play with your cunt, you’re done for.

You practically lose yourself as all of the sensations come to a head, damn near evaporating into the air. When it’s over, though, his mouth lifts off of your foot, his cock slides out of your mouth, and his fingers leave you. You pant eagerly, wanting more, but he moves to the other side of the bed, pressing a knee against the mattress and pulling you to the other side.

When he enters you again, you claw at his back, still sensitive from your orgasm. “Su, my god!”

“Hush,” he claps a hand over your mouth again, raising a brow at your exclamation while he ruts into you. “I won’t have you waking Renji. If you wake him…” He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. You know whatever it is won’t be good.

Suguru continues to pump into you at an increasing speed, his face scrunching up like he’s about to cum. “Su, please…” you whine against his palm and that’s all it takes for him.

“Fuck!” The exclamation is followed by a warm feeling in your pussy that flows out as he continues to move inside of you, not stopping for a second to catch his breath. Somehow, he still has the stamina to continue moving as he pushes cum out of you. Then he picks up his speed again, moaning louder than before and removing his hand from your mouth. You whimper, and he looks down at you instantly. “We’re not even close to finished, y/n. You want me to fuck you like a cow? That’s exactly what I’m about to fucking do.”

#jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jjk smut

166 notes · View notes

mechloe-blog-da · 3 years

Text

A short extract from a novel in progress. (I apologise for the grammar)

2020, Harrogate, England

“Hey, look what I found”

My peaceful sunbathing is interrupted by a shadow blocking the warm sun from my face. I opened my eyes to find my brother Archie standing over me with something tightly gripped in his fist.

“I found it in the pond. It looks expensive, I think it’s real gold”

He then started dangling a pocket watch over my head, the sun reflecting off the shiny trinket and straight into my eyes.

I let out a frustrated groan and sat up on my elbows, the prickly grass scratching my arms.

On a hot Saturday morning, Archie and I decided to sunbathe in the garden behind our house. Archie got bored after 5 minutes and decided to swim in the pond planted in the middle of the garden. That pond was commissioned by my dad for my mother when they first moved in to this house. He thought the huge back garden needed something to fill up the space.

I suggested that it was a bad idea but my brother has never been a person to follow wise suggestions or use his brain.

“Is it seriously not possible to have just 5 minutes to myself ”

I snatched the watch from his hand and tossed it back into the water. Not interested in knowing what his reaction is, I hauled myself up from the ground and retreated into the house.

It felt good to walk into the air-conditioned house, away from the scolding heat of the sun. My family is lucky enough to afford air conditioning, or should I say rich enough. Finding a house in England with air conditioning is extremely hard to come by, especially since the UK is not known for it’s hot weather.

I found my mother sitting on the breakfast bar in the middle of the kitchen. Her hand wrapped around a cup of tea and a newspaper is in the other hand. Her hair is a light blonde with loose curls, much like my hair except mine is natural and her curls are the result of heated rollers.

I study her face and notice the dark bags under her eyes that are being ineffectively hidden by concealer.

I sat myself on the bar stool beside her.

“Are you still working late? You shouldn’t do that. You need your sleep” I said.

She looked up from her newspaper and gave me a jaded smile.

“You’re the one who needs sleep. Studying medicine is not easy. And it’s not going to get any easier if you’re tired all the time”

I want to tell her that her health is much more important to me than my medical degree, but I decide to let her have her ‘good parenting moment’ since she rarely gets to have one those. Both my parents work at their own company office most of the week so spending time with us is a privilege they only get on the weekends. They do respectable work as lawyers for a firm, but the larger part of their wealth derive from their rich forebears. It is tradition to entrust that money to the next offspring in the family.

“I’m not tired, I’m fine.” I said.

She chuckled softly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“It’s so endearing that you care about me but trust me when I say I’m completely fine. Making sure you pass your exams are my top priority. Speaking of which, how well are you doing?”

“Well, you were not wrong about how difficult it is. I always thought it would come natural to me since I’ve been obsessed with biology and the human body for most of my life, but I’m not too sure about it anymore.” A tired sigh escaped my mouth as I close my eyes and rest my head on my palm. I feel my mothers soft hand gently stroke my forearm.

“You are the smartest women I know honey. Everybody knows you will pass those exams marvellously. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

I can feel a small lump form in my throat as she speaks. The praise my mother is giving me should make me feel grateful ,but it only me makes me nervous. As of now, everyone I know assumes I will do extremely well and eventually become a doctor. My expectations are not so guaranteed.

“Hey mum, look what I found!” My mum and I both turn our to the sliding door that leads to the back garden. Archie is standing in the kitchen. His hair and clothes are dripping wet causing a shallow puddle of water to form around his feet.

“What the hell have you been doing!” Mum springs into action immediately.

“Cathy, come here quickly!” She calls to Cathy our housekeeper. She is a stout old woman with streaks of grey in her brown, lifeless hair. She almost looks lifeless with her hollow, tired eyes but that doesn’t mean that she is not always at the ready to clean up any little spill we make.

She comes scuttling in from seemingly nowhere with a mop in her hand and elbows Archie out of the way.

“I had to jump in the pond because someone had thrown my watch in there” Archie said.

“You jumped in that pond for a stupid watch? How injudicious of you.” I spat back at him and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Injudicious? Who are you trying to impress with those “big words” This isn’t one of your fancy college classes you know. There isn’t any professors here to grade you.” He glared at me but there was a look of amusement in his eyes.

“Can both of you take your petty argument somewhere else please. Cathy has enough to deal with already.”

I let out a barely audible scoff and marched out the kitchen. Archie followed close behind, almost tripping on my heel. He followed me all the way to my bedroom until we got to the door.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around all day?”

“What can be more fun than annoying you?” He winks and I shove his shoulder.

Archie is such a facetious person and because of that, I can never stay angry for long. A brother and sister relationship is often thought of as turbulent and emotional, however, our relationship is more stable and joyful than anything. Once and a while we have our petty arguments only to forgive and forget rather quickly.

“Can I show you my watch now or are you just going to throw it away again?” He said, dangling the watch in front of my face.

“What’s so great about an old watch?”

“Are you serious? It could be an old family heirloom or something.” He replied enthusiastically.

“What would an old family heirloom be doing in the bottom of that pond? Dad hired someone to build that just before we were born. Surely if it was that important, they wouldn’t of just thrown it in there.”

“Ok maybe it’s not an heirloom ,but it must have been thrown in there for a reason. Would you please just have a look at it” He said.

I sighed and took the watch from his hand.

The golden pocket watch glittered as I held it in lamplight. Its aluminium hands were frozen in place, pointing at half past twelve. I flipped it over and saw a name was engraved in cursive writing.

S.M.Parker

“There’s a name engraved on the back” I turned to Archie and placed the watch in his hand.

“S.M.Parker? I’ve never heard of that name.” He said and I hummed in agreement.

“Me neither. It must a relative or an ancestor.”

I took the watch from his hand and inspected it again. There was nothing else out of ordinary about it but for some reason, I was determined to find something. I searched through the names I knew in my head but S.M.Parker didn’t ring any bells.

“We should go to bed, we will ask mum about it in the morning” said Archie as he started towards the door and headed back to his bedroom. I watched him leave and placed the watch onto my bedside table. Grabbing the book that was also on the table, I plopped down on the bed and opened it. It was my one favourite books I always read before bed: Wuthering heights. You must think it’s very strange for 19 year old girl to be slightly obsessed with everything to do with the 19th century, however my interests have never been considered normal.

The history, fashion and politics were also very interesting in my opinion.

A lot of people, especially my brother, find the way I talk very amusing. The students, who I go to college with, also tend to snicker and ridicule me when they hear my voice.

Reading two books a month has extended my vocabulary and improved my knowledge tremendously well. Even though I feel quite proud of my intelligence, I can’t help but feel somewhat dejected and withdrawn.

After five or so minutes of reading, I began to nod off. I closed my book and settled it in its original place on my bedside table. I admired the gold pocket watch next to my book as I proceeded to rest my head on my pillow.

When my eyes began to feel heavy, I continued to stare at the watch as I imagined what it would be like to live in 1865.

The peaceful silence in the bedroom did not last for long. A low humming sound started to emanate from the pocket watch. As the sound increases, the watch begins to jolt and tremor violently. Suddenly, a glaring white light emits and fills the room.

My pleasant sleep was rudely interrupted by a tedious tugging at my hair. My hands tried to bat away the obtrusive attacker. I continued to thrash my hands around aimlessly, until my nose picks up a very putrid scent that smelt specifically like cow dung. I wonder, what would a horrific smell like that be doing in my typically pleasant smelling room? My eyes flutter as they adjust to the light. Wait a minute, it’s light already? It feels like I barely slept 5 minutes. My eyes spring open and I sit up with a jolt. My head spins from the sudden movement and I attempt to take in my surroundings. I’m sitting in, what looks like a grass field dotted with cows, harmoniously chewing grass. My brain struggled to process what was going on. Only a few seconds ago I was asleep in my room, now I’m in a field I am completely unfamiliar with. What the hell happened?

“Lizzie, Your breakfast is ready! What are you doing in that grass you silly-“ A voice called from behind the girl, followed by a loud gasp. My eyes peered over the girls shoulder and saw a stout old women with her grey hair wrapped up in a white bonnet. She was wearing a filthy kitchen apron and a grey woollen dress.

Her shocked expression quickly turned into anger as she darted towards the girl, seized her elbow and pulled her up quite aggressively.

“You are trespassing on private land! So I suggest you sling your hook before I have the coppers ‘round here”

I senselessly gawked at the old woman as my brain attempted to make sense of this absurd situation. Why is the old women shouting at me? Why do I not recognise this place? Where the fuck is my brother? As if on cue I heard a slurred voice that sounded very much like Archie.

“Hey lady, can you shut the fuck up, I’m trying to sleep!”

I turned my head to search in the direction the voice came from. My eyes landed on my brother lying in the grass behind me. His legs are curled up to his chest and his eyes were half closed.

Before I could react, the old woman marched over to Archie with her walking stick in her hand and started beating his head with it.

“You better give me a good reason you two scroungers are sleeping on my lawn before the bobbies get here! Do you understand boy?” She continues to beat him as Archie howls and attempts to fan the stick away.

The sound of my brother wailing causes my protective sister instincts to kick in and I quickly rush to my feet.

“Hey, get away from my brother you old bat. What makes you think you have the right to beat him like that. We have no idea how we got here either and hitting us isn’t going to help.”

Her cane freezes in mid-air and she turns to look at me.

“You don’t know how you got here? Are you simple?” She asks.

“No of course I’m not simple. I’m just as confused as you are. One minute we were sleeping in bed and the next we wake up in this field with no memory of how we got here. And speaking of which, where is here?”

She sighs and lowers her cane before walking towards the little girl who I’d forgotten was stood there. Archie scoffs and hauls himself up from the ground while rubbing the spot on his head previously assaulted with the cane.

“Why the hell was that old woman hitting me with a stick? And why does she look like a extra on ‘Little house on the prairie’? Where the fuck are we?”

“You are in a place I call my home so you better watch your tongue, boy...You are in Hereford.” She said.

“Hereford? But, we live in Harrogate.” I racked my brain trying to find a plausible explanation as to why we are so far away from home, and why I don’t remember anything. There is no possible way we could have walked all the way to Hereford. Maybe we were kidnapped in the night or maybe we were sleeping walking and got on a bus or train. Archie and I were both sleepwalking last night? No. Absolutely not. That makes no sense. Mum would have woken us up or noticed we were gone.

“Archie, what about mum? Surely she is worried sick by now. We need to call her and tell her we are all right. Do you have a mobile?” I turned to the old woman who is still standing there looking very disgruntled.

“A mobile? Never heard of it.” She replied, her brows furrowing.

“Oh, come on. Surely you’re not that old. You must have a mobile or at least a landline.” Archie said still rubbing his head and dusting the grass off his trousers.

“Did you two knock your heads or something? You’re talking nonsense. Since you two seem quite disoriented, why don’t we walk over to my house and sit down. I’ll put the kettle on the stove and we’ll talk over a cuppa tea.

(If you found any grammar mistakes please reply and let me know)

2 notes · View notes

fericita-s · 4 years

Text

Vanished (part 3)

Part One Part Two

on AO3

Third installment of four, Rated M, an Agduna Frozen story, amnesia AU. This chapter owes a debt of gratitude to @the-spastic-fantastic who pointed out we hadn’t yet let Iduna notice Agnarr with his sleeves rolled up, requested drunk and depressed Agnarr (and added even more devastating details to that scene) and as always did a wonderful job beta-ing and working through this with me.

Part Three

The letter arrived to the Sommerhus before she and Elsa did, Agnarr’s mark in the wax that sealed it together. Iduna thought he must have written while she was packing clothes and toys, directing which servants were to accompany them. She had also scribbled off a hasty note to Thea and Linnea inviting them to come visit and putting a cheerful slant on her hurried departure.

Please come see Elsa and me at the Sommerhus! Agnarr is staying in the palace, royal duties preclude his presence.

Elsa loved the journey north, looking out the window of the carriage and pointing at every new animal and person and house she could see. “Baa! Sheep! Cow! Moo!” When they arrived at the house, Elsa had craned her neck around each corner as she toddled through, calling “Papa?” Iduna felt the prick of tears in her eyes, and swept them away quickly, before Elsa would see and turn the whole cottage cold with frost in sympathetic worry.

As the servants unloaded the carriage and trunks and the cook set up the pantry and a light meal for dinner, Iduna put Elsa in her crib for a nap and took the letter upstairs. She settled into an unused bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to use the room that she and Agnarr had occupied on previous trips. For having hardly any memories, the ones she did have were certainly plaguing her now.

She expected a quickly jotted note, a “Please forgive me,” or a “Please come home,” or perhaps even a “I am your King, you must do as I command. Come home now or I’ll take our daughter away from you.” It didn’t seem like him to do that, but then did she truly know him? After keeping such a big lie, what else could he be hiding?

Instead, the note was two pages of cramped writing, Agnarr’s hand faint in some places and overly strong in others as if he was having trouble controlling his emotions as he wrote. She put a hand to her cheek as she read, and this time, let her tears fall.

My Dearest Iduna,

I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll ask for it just the same. I will write down for you all that I know of you, some in this letter, and more to follow each day. But if you find that your tastes have changed, know that my love has not. I loved you when we were fourteen. I loved you still at twenty-four when we pledged ourselves to each other. And I love you now at twenty-six with a child of our own. I will love you whether or not you remember anything and whether or not you are the same girl with whom I fell in love. I will love you in this life, and every life, and hope that we can share this one again soon.

Your lips were cold the first time we kissed, almost frozen. You took me to a spring of water, you told me it was the purest in the whole forest. The water was clear and cold and you said there was legend about it wielding the power of truth. That those who drank of it would tell their secrets. You drank first, cupping your hand into the water and bringing it to your mouth. The water dribbled down your hand and from a corner of your mouth and I was mesmerized by the sight, wanting nothing more than to kiss the spot on your lips that was wet, to take your truth and make it my own. I dipped my hands in the water and drank too, and said the first thing that came to mind, a truth so basic and fundamental but one I had not said out loud to you before. “I love you." You smiled and said “I love you too.”

I leaned in to kiss you, and the cold water made us both gasp and then laugh. But soon we had made our own heat and the relief and joy I felt at saying those words and hearing you say them warmed me brighter than the summer sun at noon. I wish I could tell you if you were nervous or excited or impatient for me to say those words but I don't know. As well as I knew you then, I won't guess at your inmost thoughts and I hope they come back to you someday. But I will tell you mine - and they are that I love you wholly and desperately, that I am so sorry for betraying your trust, that being your husband and the father to our daughter is worth more than this kingdom or any other. I love you. You don't ever have to forgive me but I hope you will believe that I love you.

Yours, Agnarr

Iduna folded the letter and got into the bed, letting herself cry for the girl she was and couldn’t remember, and over the husband who knew them both but had kept it from her.

***

Every day, letters came. Some were as long as the first, some were short. They made her laugh and cry and rage. She might have ignored them altogether, but she was so eager to know about who she was and who they had been. And she hated that she was dependent on him for that. That he could have told her this a year or two ago and chose not to.

***

My Dearest Iduna,

Your anger is justified, but please know nothing will ever change my love for you and our daughter. Yours, Agnarr

***

At the end of the first week, Agnarr arrived and delivered a stack of letters to her in person. She was holding Elsa who squealed and clapped her hands together at the sight of him, and she wiped the tiny icicles that grew from Elsa’s fingers. Agnarr kissed Iduna on the cheek and whispered urgently in her ear. “Read them alone and burn them when you’re through.”

When she started to read, she knew why they couldn’t be kept. He had written to her about the Northuldra – the rituals, the legends, the spirits, the names of her family members and what they were like. Songs that he remembered. Foods she liked to eat. Speculation on how Elsa’s powers might be related to the enchantments of the forest, though it was a unique magic he didn’t think had been seen there before. He had given her his study of the Northuldra people.

Having it might get her killed, even as the queen. Lord Hannesel and others still fueled resentment against the Northuldra and there were rumors he was gathering support. Agnarr had even told the maid who had heard Iduna sing the Northuldra lullaby a carefully concocted story of his remembrance of the tune from a trip there, explaining that he had taught his wife.

She put the stack into the fire but held the last one a bit longer, waiting until all the others were burned before parting with it.

My Dearest Iduna,

Your birthday is September 5th, a time when the leaves in your forest start to change and the colors are so bright it seems like the trees have dressed up to celebrate you. Your mother gave you a shawl at birth with the patterns of the spirits on it. It wasn’t with us the day we escaped the mist.

We wrapped it around our hands when we were handfasted.

I was so hopeful we would create peace between our people. My father had been getting more aggressive and insistent in matchmaking for an alliance with a European nation, angry at my declaration that I would marry you. I thought if we had our own ceremony, just the two of us, and if we had the privilege of creating a new life, it would force him to accept us. We could also create a new and peaceful life for both of our nations.

You took me to a cave and we sat alone. How my hand trembled as you held It. How comforting it felt to be wrapped up in your shawl, and how impossible it was to imagine my life without you. It still is. Yours, Agnarr

***

At the end of the second week, Thea and Linnea came to visit. Linnea and Elsa played outside while Thea and Iduna took tea in a private area of the grounds.

“I’m surprised the king’s not here. Elias said council meetings were cancelled last week and this week too. No one has seen him for some time. I half thought I would find him here when we arrived!”

Iduna shook her head. “No. He’s been to visit, but not to stay.” She looked at Thea, deciding if she could share the reason why. But if she told her, would she be in danger too?

For the first time, she understood Agnarr’s decision to keep her identity hidden. But it didn’t give her any relief.

***

“Agnarr. Ag! Wake up!” Elias entered the king’s bedchambers, waving off the guard and servants. He shut the door behind him and moved to open the tightly drawn curtains. The sunlight streamed in on a sorry sight.

Agnarr was lying face down on the bed, clad only in trousers. Elias looked to the heaps of clothing on the floor, the trays of untouched food, full glasses of water, and the two bottles of akvavit uncorked, empty, and lying on their sides.

He sat on the bed next to Agnarr and began slapping the soles of his feet. “Sit up, Ag. Get up!”

Agnarr groaned and rolled over, putting an arm over his eyes. He made a move to sit up, but groaned again instead.

“Thea sent me here. She visited Iduna this week and could tell something was wrong, though Iduna didn’t say what. She told me to come here and fix whatever it was so her friend won’t be so sad anymore. So you see? You’re making a liar of me too. Because I can guess what this is about. And if I’m right, I won’t be able to tell my wife the truth. So thanks for that.”

Agnarr remained silent, but managed to move into a sitting position. He cradled his head in his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees.

Elias’s voice was sharp, his words meant to hurt. “Thea was always talking about how romantic it was, the two of you, and how amazing Iduna told her the…physical aspect of your relationship was. How intuitive you were.” He snorted and shook his head. “And I'll never tell her it's because you've loved Iduna since you were fourteen and were handfasted at twenty-four, and married a whole year before this fiasco began to unfold.”

Agnarr blindly groped for one of the glasses of water, knocking one over but grabbing one next to it. He drank slowly, eyes closed.

“Did she find out? She knows who she is and she knows you lied about it?”

Agnarr set the glass down and turned to face his friend. Elias saw the red rimmed eyes, the unshaven cheeks, the sunken look of him. “I've ruined it. I've ruined us.” His voice was raw. “And now she has no one and our child won't know me. And why should she? A liar and a coward is all I am. Better fatherless than to have me.”

Elias was silent a moment and then moved to put an arm around his friend. “What will you do? Is it really beyond fixing?”

Agnarr took a short breath, his breath hitching and his voice held a strange timber as he replied. “I don’t know.”

“Give her time, Ag.” Elias sighed. “Keep apologizing and give her time.”

***

He kept writing and at the end of every week he came to the Sommerhus to hand-deliver letters about Northuldra customs and the details of her family in the Enchanted Forest. Iduna would read them and then burn them as she looked out of the upstairs window as Agnarr and Elsa played outside. Father and daughter would walk through the fields or woods, stopping to inspect interesting insects and beautiful flowers and the feel of a small creek. Iduna could see them from her upstairs window. She would pause in her reading to see Agnarr with his shirt sleeves rolled up, holding the flowers that Elsa picked or lifting her high onto his shoulders so she could get a better view of a woodpecker. There were times she wanted to go and hold his hand, to run her fingers along the familiar curve of his forearms she so admired. But after he read their daughter fairy tales and rocked her to sleep, he slept on the floor in her room on a pile of blankets and cushions. And, after silently checking in on them, Iduna would retire to the room where she slept alone.

***

My Dearest Iduna,

My greatest fear, other than harm coming to you or Elsa, is that Elsa’s magic was given to her because I lied to you. Did the spirits see my actions and give us a child with magic so that I would tell you about your ties to a land so blessed with it? If so, they must want to punish me greatly for failing that twice. And I want to punish myself. But Elias, who has known all of this, says it is not helpful. That I should be patient and contrite. So I will be. Because you deserve that and so much more. Yours, Agnarr

***

“Happy Birthday, Elsa!” Linnea jumped out of the sled as soon as it pulled up to the Sommerhus. Elsa waved and Iduna shouted from the front steps.

“It’s so cold! Hurry inside!”

Captain Calder helped his wife down from the sled and then collected a pile of brightly wrapped presents from underneath their seats. They hurried to the warmth of the house, shucking their coats and hats and mittens and knocking snow from their boots as they came through the door.

“Are Elias and Thea here yet? The roads are treacherous today.”

Iduna took the topmost packages and shook her head. “No, not yet. But they might have waited on Agnarr to join them. And I’m sure Elias will ask the driver to go slowly. He has been so cautious since Thea began to show.”

Linnea took a present from her father’s arms and gave it to Elsa. “Open this one now! I made it for you!”

Elsa took the package and hugged it to her chest. “Thank you!”

Iduna laughed. “You’ll have to show her what to do. She doesn’t know she has to open it.”

Linnea pulled at the ribbon and it fell to the floor, and then pulled at a corner of the wrapping until it ripped. “Now your turn!”

Elsa looked doubtful about the wisdom of ripping the paper, but did as she was told and soon discovered a fabric doll, with a blue dress, yellow hair, and a small crown on its head. Elsa hugged it to herself. “Baby!”

Linnea smiled. “Yes, a babydoll! I made her look like you, only I had to guess at the hair color since you’re still mostly bald. And I used one of my old dresses for her dress so she is a very fancy baby doll. Shall we go show her your room?”

They ran upstairs, the other presents on the pile forgotten. Iduna breathed a sigh of happiness, a tight feeling in her chest at Elsa’s delight, and bent down to pick up the strips of wrapping paper that had scattered on the floor, like bright and cheerful snowflakes. “She loves it when Linnea comes. I think she gets lonely here.”

Mrs. Calder tilted her head and looked at Iduna. “Agnarr hasn’t joined you here yet?”

Iduna looked down, looking to where Captain Calder had stacked the remaining presents. “No, it’s been too difficult for him to leave the castle.” A blush was creeping up her neck and she pressed the wrapping and ribbon into a ball and worried it with her hands.

Mrs. Calder looked to her husband, who cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m fairly certain Agnarr was bald for the first two years of his life. It’s quite common in children with light-colored hair.”

A gust of cold air swept in as Thea, Elias, and Agnarr came inside. “Did I just hear someone call me bald?”

Captain Calder laughed and clapped him on the back. “Happy birthday to your little one! Two years old!”

Hugs and greetings were passed around as everyone discussed the snow, the cold, and the delight of celebrating a birthday with the happy royal family. Agnarr and Iduna shared an awkward look, and Agnarr leaned over to kiss Iduna’s cheek in greeting. She stayed very still, hands grasping the ball of paper, unsure if she should respond or not, wishing her body wasn’t longing for more touch from Agnarr, the heat from his kiss making her feel as if the whole room had been warmed.

Thea groaned. “Having children is a blessing, but being pregnant is surely a curse of biblical proportions. Elias, help me take my coat off.”

Mrs. Calder and Elias both helped her, and then ushered her into a chair by the fire and Iduna excused herself to get her a glass of water. She listened to their voices as Captain Calder mused about the state of the roads, Elias wondered whether or not the driver needed help settling the horses in the barn, and Thea and Mrs. Calder decided if it was better to sit close to the fire and prevent a chill or further from it so as not to get overheated. Iduna smiled, glad to hear the voices of friends, of her family.

“Iduna.”

She turned and saw Agnarr, his hands behind his back. She wished she hadn’t discarded the ball of paper. Bunching it in her hands to conceal her emotions had felt satisfying in a way holding a glass of water did not. Her heart sped up and she wondered if he had a new letter for her. She wondered if he would kiss her, hug her, hold her, now that the Calders were here to see their interactions.

She wondered if she wanted that.

“I didn’t write a letter this time; with the Calders here, I…”

She nodded in understanding, trying to keep any look of disappointment from her face. Today was for Elsa, not her. “Of course.”

“But also, with the Calders here I thought we could, if you want to of course, and only if you feel comfortable, we could tell them about your origins. Elias knows already and I know you think of them as family. We can trust them. And I don’t think it would endanger them, with Lord Hannesel off the council and public opinion slowly changing.”

“If we can trust them, why didn’t you tell them three years ago?”

A faint redness appeared on Agnarr’s neck and he nodded quickly to her, almost a bow. “I should have. I should have told you too. Every day I think about how I could have gone about this all differently. What I could have done better. What I could have done right.”

Iduna handed him the glass of water. “Bring this to Linnea? I’ll get the glogg ready for everyone else. I gave the staff the week off since the weather looked to be so bad. I knew they’d want to be home with their families.”

Agnarr took the offered glass. “Think about it? You don’t need to give me an answer, now or…you know, ever. But think about it.”

Their fingers touched as the glass passed between them and Iduna felt a shiver run through her. She turned quickly so he wouldn’t see the confusion on her face.

Wasn’t she still mad at him for lying to her?

“Yes, I’ll think about it.”

She heard his footsteps and the conversation in the other room growing in volume as his voice was added to it. She knew she had a lot to think about. What was easy to ignore while playing with a toddler all day was harder to ignore now. As she poured raisins and almonds to the glogg on the stovetop, the feeling of safety Agnarr’s touch gave had stayed with her. She did feel safe with him. He had done all he could to keep her safe, both during the battle and every day after. He had done all he could to make life safe for Northuldra in Arendelle, whether or not the mist ever opened. He was a good man, a just king, and a devoted father. And she could forgive his mistake.

Through his letters she had fallen in love with him in new ways. Learning all she had lost was a heartbreak, but what she didn’t have to lose was him.

She didn’t have to be without family, either. The Calders loved her, and would keep loving her even if they knew her past the way Agnarr did. She could trust them and not shut them out in fear.

***

After a cold walk with Elsa pushing her new baby doll sleigh around the yard, eating cake, and Agnarr playing his violin while Elsa spun and danced in delight, it was time for her to go to bed. Iduna picked her up and carried her to each guest for a goodnight kiss and then she and Agnarr took her upstairs.

Iduna laid her in her crib and watched as Elsa’s chubby arm slung around the baby doll’s neck, pulling it closer and breathing deeply. Agnarr reached into his violin case and took out a red and purple shawl, soft and trimmed with fringe. He covered Elsa with it and ran his hand up and down Elsa’s side, humming the tune he had been playing on the violin a few moments before. She smiled and closed her eyes. Agnarr straightened.

“That’s my present to her. And you too, really. I had a weaver make a shawl like the one your mother gave you when you were born. I know it’s not the same, but you can tell her about your family and maybe this will help.”

Iduna reached over and ran her hands along it, feeling Elsa’s sleeping body and wishing she could remember being wrapped up in her mother’s shawl, safe and protected, loved and cherished.

“Thank you.” She looked at him and hoped he could see in the low light that she truly was thankful. That it was a thoughtful gift that she would treasure and one that proved again how much he valued that part of who she was. She hoped he could tell she wanted to say more but didn’t want to wake their daughter or break this spell of calm and quiet, of understanding and maybe even forgiveness that felt like a shawl around her shoulders. “And I thought about it. I think we should tell the Calders. This weekend while they are staying here. But maybe not tonight. I’m tired.”

Agnarr nodded. “Would you like to go to bed now? I can give them your excuses and show them to their rooms if you’re too tired. I’ll go sleep with the drivers in the guesthouse.”

Iduna stepped towards him and reached for his hand, the same sensation of safety and calm reigning over her as it had earlier in the day, as it did every time they touched. “No. You can show them their rooms but then come to our bed.” She turned and left the room, heat building in her cheeks and in her stomach and she wasn’t brave enough to look in his eyes and see what he thought about that.

***

“They’re all settled. And I looked in on Elsa just now - she’s asleep.” He shut the door gently behind him and looked around the room, still not quite sure if Iduna had meant for him to share their bed. Was it merely for appearances? So they had one less thing to explain to the Calders tomorrow? He looked around the room, searching for something to say. Something to break the awkward silence. “The room is so clean and orderly. It doesn’t even look like anyone has been staying here.”

Iduna was sitting on the bed, changed into her nightclothes. “I haven’t been. I stayed in the room next to Elsa’s. I didn’t want to stay where we once had.”

“Oh.” He winced, sorry again for how he had hurt her, once more wishing he had made a different choice.

She looked at him and then spoke quickly. “No, I don’t mean that I was angry with you. I missed you.” She paused and took a breath. “Well, I was also angry with you. But I didn’t want to be in our bed without you.” She put her hand down next to her on the bed. “Will you come sit? I think better when I’m touching you.”

He laughed a little as he came to her and sat down, their thighs touching and her head even with his shoulder. “I have a hard time thinking when you’re touching me. Except about how much I want to be touching you.” She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder.

“When I touch you, it’s almost like remembering. I know I’m meant to be with you. That it’s right.” Agnarr turned his head so he could kiss her on the top of her head. He brought his hand up and ran it through her long hair. It was unwound from the neat crown braids she usually wore as queen and reminded him of the way it had been in the forest.

“Your hair was like this when I first met you. Down and a little wild. Wavy and dark and beautiful. I was staring so much at how it moved in the wind that I fell into the river because I wasn’t looking at how close I was to the bank.”

Iduna laughed. “You didn’t write about that in any letters!”

He brought his hand to her shoulder, running it up and down her arm. “Some things were too embarrassing to commit to paper.”

Iduna reached to his face and cupped her hand around his cheek. She ran her thumb over his mustache, back and forth and back and forth, like she was soothing his worry. “Thank you for giving me all of those memories. And for all of the ones here in Arendelle that I can recall – being your queen, being the mother of our daughter, knowing the Calders. That’s all thanks to you.”

His hand stilled. “Iduna, I’m so sorry. Truly.”

She stood and nudged his knees apart to stand between them and then brought both hands up to this face. “I forgive you. And I love you.”

He gripped her under the thighs and lifted her up so she was seated on his lap, chests pressed against each other and her legs around him. He buried his face into her chest but she could still hear his whisper. “I certainly don’t deserve it. But I love you too. I wish I had the words to tell you how much.”

She leaned to his ear, kissing it on the lobe and shivering at the feel of his hands on her back, the movement of his hips into hers. “It’s not your words I want right now.”

***

The Calders didn’t seem surprised or upset to hear that Iduna was Northuldra. Captain Calder even suggested that they tell the council. “They, like everyone else in the kingdom, love the queen. And they will see it as a chance to strengthen the statement of peace: naming the queen as Northuldra and your marriage as an alliance that respects and honors their people.”

Mrs. Calder hugged Iduna tightly. “Our love for you has not changed. Perhaps richer now for the truth of things, but not changed.”

“It makes sense.” Linnea spoke as she reached to pick Elsa up out of Iduna’s lap. “Is that why Elsa can make ice?”

The adults in the room all stared at her. Her mother spoke first. “She can…do what?”

Agnarr cleared his throat. “Yes, it seems she can make ice. And snow as well. But it’s not a known gift among the Northuldra and we don’t know what it means. We don’t know if the power will strengthen or fade as time goes on and she grows up.”

Thea reached to take Elsa from Linnea. “Show us, Elsa, dear. Show us the snow.”

And Elsa did.

#agduna #frozen fan fic #fan fic #King Agnarr #Queen Iduna #Amnesia AU #baby Elsa #Sommerhus #Agnarr #Iduna #Mama and Papa Arendelle #vanished

12 notes · View notes

leio13 · 7 years

Text

I was Tagged!!! Thrice!!! (Holy Cow...)

I’m back with 33 more questions to answer! I was gonna make a joke last time about it being the ultimate get-to-know-me post, but I guess not. Good thing I held off on that joke, huh.

1. Post the rules

2. Answer the questions given to you by the tagger

3. Write 11 questions of your own

4. And tag 11 people

First, I was tagged by the lovely @missmizpah! Thanks, Emily!

1. Opinion on nuts?

Nuts are alright. Honey nut roasted peanuts though are more than alright. They are some good stuff.

2. Favorite book genre?

Hmm... I don’t really have a favorite genre. I’m really picky about books and a lot of other things honestly but my pickiness applies to all genres. I just like books with complex characters really.

3. Worst injury/illness?

I don’t actually get seriously injured that often; however, there was this one time I dropped my metal water bottle on my thumb. It hurt like hell and there was some blood under the nail. No big deal, right? That’s what I thought too. And I don’t really remember the transition that well, but in a few days, the area under my thumb nail was a navy blue and swelling out under the nail. a lot. It was probably one of the grossest things I’ve seen. good thing my mom took before and after pictures before they drained it. Don’t worry though. I won’t be posting those here.

4. What attracts you to someone platonically?

Er... kindness, loyalty, respect, AKA the really cliche stuff, and uh, chivalry, I guess. Treat me like a princess (for some reason) and you’re halfway there!

5. What was the last dream you had?

I had an interesting dream about Ouma from NDRv3. I went to his house which was more of a shack since his single parent family was super poor. His dad said that Ouma was actually a good boy (I have doubts). Ouma owned a crap ton of rainbow shark plushies (he really liked sharks apparently), and some bad dudes who were pissed at Ouma chased us back to the school (which was apparently a safe place that we wanted to be at). I skipped some details, but that was basically it. Also, keep in mind that I’ve only seen up to the death of chapter 2 (haven’t even started the investigation yet), so I kind of just made these details up in my dream and don’t spoil me. Orz.

6. Are you someone who eats cough drops like candy?

I haven’t had cough drops since I was in eighth grade and thought was I was having an asthma attack and my inhaler wasn’t working. In hindsight, it was a panic attack, but I recall the cough drop working a bit strangely enough. Anyway, I don’t really eat cough drops, no.

7. Native language?

English.

8. What size shoes do you wear?

Size 8 apparently. I think some of my shoes are a 7 1/2 though.

9. What is your current hair length?

Around my shoulders.

10. One habit you’re sure is specific to you?

I don’t know if I have any habits that are specific to me. um... I don’t really like the part of the utensil which you stick in your mouth touching anything besides me, my plate, or a napkin, so I tend to hold utensils in my mouth (knives excluded, duh because they don’t go in your mouth). It’s kind of a habit now, I guess. Does that count?

11. How far would you swim out into the ocean?

Negative feet. I’m not going in the ocean. There are things in there that I want nothing to do with such as seaweed, angry crabs that I could accidentally step on, sharp rocks or shells, sharks, jellyfish, etc.

Next, @excitable-nugget‘s questions! Thanks a bunch, Gnugs!

1. If you could have one sense enhanced, what would it be?

Definitely not taste. Tastes are wonderful (or some of them at least), but I’m already picky as it is, so I don’t really want more tastes to discriminate against. Touch probably wouldn’t be such a good idea either since I get startled easily and tongue (one picky dude, I tell you) is actually pretty sensitive to food textures too. Smell wouldn’t be bad except sometimes when I’m sick, everything smells like vomit, so I don’t really want to risk that being enhanced. Overall, I’m gonna go with sight (yes, I did skip hearing. I didn’t have much to say about it). Better vision in the dark could be pretty lit. Might also help ease some of my night paranoia. 2. Can you link your hands behind your back with one over the shoulder and one under? (like this)

One way. I can do it with my right hand reaching over. Kind of freaked me out though. I wasn’t ready for my hands to meet like that even if it was the goal. 3. Favourite colour to wear, or your favourite colour in general?

Favorite color to wear? Black. I just own a lot of black. Favorite color in general? Orange. 4. What was your internet pseudonym when you were 12-14?

It was Leio13. I’ve been Leio13 for as long as I’ve been on the internet. 5. What’s your favourite meat-based dish? If you don’t eat meat, what’s your favourite dish in general?

My favorite meat dish is steak. It’s just sooooo good. 6. Would you rather be known as wise or strong?

Probably wise. I used to think I was super smart as a kid, but now I feel pretty average and/or stupid/incompetent, so it would be nice for that feeling to come back. 7. What’s your favourite physical feature about yourself?

Probably my hair even if it knots excessively when no one wants it to. 8. Would you rather explore the ocean depths or space?

The ocean is such a vibrant, beautiful place! I love underwater images and would love to see it in person, but it would have to be in a submarine or something because I’m not going out there with only a wet suit protecting my flesh. 9. What’s your favourite snack food?

This is hard... I eat so many snacks. Hmm... I’m feeling ritz bitz. 10. If you could make one thing from fiction (e.g. a character, a place, a food, a machine) real, what would it be?

I don’t really have any deep answers here, but I think Odasaku (as he is in Bungou Stray Dogs) and his orphans being real would be really sweet. They’d be such a cute family. #familygoals 11. Is Australia real or just a conspiracy?

Australia? don’t know her.

Finally, I was tagged by the wonderful @chom-raaa! Thanks, Chomra!

1. Heroes gone bad or villains becoming good?

How could I choose???? They’re both so fantastic!! Wonderful character development opportunities abound with both!! ...that being said, while I appreciate the psychology of both of them, I tend to side with the good guys, so if all you wonderful villains could join the side I support, I guess that would be better.

2. Did you ever get in trouble in school? When was the last time and what was it about?

er... I don’t think so. No wait. One time, we were playing a game in class but my friend and I got out, so we were chatting on the sidelines even though we were supposed to be paying attention to those still playing (this was an ice breaker game). Anyway, the teacher said something about being quiet, and my dense self took it as “you can continue talking but quietly,” so I did. The teacher had to yell again for it to click with me. This was in like 5th grade, but I’m still disappointed in that me. I wasn’t that dense normally in fifth grade.

3. Hot drinks or cold drinks?

cold drinks.

4. Any siblings? Older/younger? Would you have it any other way?

I’ve got two amazing siblings, both older than me! I don’t really think I would want it any other way. I’m content with what I have now.

5. You most prized possession?

My technology and anime merch maybe?

6. What’s a fandom trope that makes you uncomfortable?

hoo boy. Where to begin??? I hate slave AUs (can’t really understand why you would like them). As you probably already know, I dislike smut, so the appeal of A/B/O universes is beyond me entirely. er... sexualizing characters? calling out the soukoku fandom: Chuuya always seems to be the more sexy one who other dudes and Dazai are always eyeing and lusting after. Like, can we appreciate the guy for more than his looks and impeccable fashion taste?? uh... also, Fyodor being depicted as some dude who is dead set on destroying soukoku (usually by the means of torturing Chuuya in some way to hurt Dazai which by the way is just... no.). I’m pretty sure Fyodor has better things to do??? Like kill all ability users?? Er, sorry. Not sure if you wanted specific fandom tropes or not, but uh, yeah.

7. What do find attractive in a fictional character?

BLAZERS!!

If you meant personality wise, I like passionate, kind characters, and also the mysterious, probably misunderstood type.

8. If could bring a character back to life but sacrifice another character in return (major-ish characters for those fandoms with a big cast), who would you choose?

Bringing back Odasaku, sending Fyodor to hell where he belongs. Of course, I wouldn’t actually because as much as I cry over the events of the dark era, I know that these things needed to happen for Dazai to end up where he is currently.

You know what? Better idea: still bringing back Odasaku but killing Lovecraft. The dude should’ve died after Chuuya destroyed him. I’m still bitter about his survival even if his parting scene was hilarious.

9. Long fics or short fics? In terms of both reading and writing?

I’m typically hesitant to read long fics because I have difficulty keeping up or finishing things. I bet there are a plethora of interesting long fics out there that I haven’t clicked on because I fear my motivation might die before I finish them. Likewise, it takes me centuries to write long fics, but I do really admire the art! Creating a complex story that spans over chapters is an epic feat that should not be underestimated. That being said, I do love short fics too! Short fics that still fill me with intense emotions are an equally epic thing. Like, how do you get so many feels in so little words???

10. Are you content with who you are?

haha nah. There are a lot of things about me that I wish were better. For one, i wish my motivation actually existed. I’m so unmotivated to do anything, even the littlest of things. Even things that I know would be fun. I just can’t convince myself to do them... Orz. Er... There are more things, but I don’t want to make this super sad. You came here for memes, not angst! Maybe not, but anyway...

11. What is holding you back from getting what you want?

I don’t know what this thing I want is referring to, but I’d bet 5000 imaginary monies that its my motivation or anxiety that’s interfering.

Thanks for the wonderful questions, y’all! <3

Now, it’s my turn!

er... actually, I’m not feeling any creative question vibes, so if I tag you, please refer to the questions of the last time did this meme (psst! over here!). Without further ado, I’m tagging @haruki-00, @dusttodawnn, @melrw22, @bandaged-chessmaster, @ai-san-arts, @4nimenut, @96percentdone, @monokumamastermind, @sadtiredbaby, @wymoup-nox, and @yesterdayohhowimissit! As usual, only do it if you want, and do it if you want but you weren’t tagged.

#I was tagged!#sorry for that negativity at the end #orz #I had things to say in the tags but I have them no longer it would seem #I forgot #what's new?

3 notes · View notes