asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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Welcome to the Brotherhood

∆ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

∆ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

∆ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

∆ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

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∆ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

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Hey, different writer anon here! High school AUs are forever my weakness so I couldn't help myself. I'm such a sucker for Altair/Malik too, so I'll leave the Federico/Kadar to the first anon. :)

----

Finding a free table during lunch was difficult enough without being the new freshman kid, but Desmond thought he was pretty lucky to be friends with Lucy, who was admittedly the most popular freshman in school and pretty damn cute, though Desmond was sure Lucy didn’t need that cheerleader uniform to get what she wanted. The girl was assertive enough, and knew her way around people, teachers included.

“Thanks,” he said, sliding into the seat Lucy saved for him. From across the table, Rebecca gave him a grin while nodding her head to whatever music she was listening to her iPod, and Shaun only spared him a vaguely annoyed glance before returning to fiddle around with his camera.

It baffled Desmond, sometimes, because he could never figure out why such a knock out girl like Lucy would be best friends with weird cases like Rebecca and Shaun. Well, maybe that was a bit harsh—Rebecca was okay, for a band geek, but he attributed that to the fact she was only in band because of her broken leg. The moment that healed, he figured she would go right back to playing soccer and volleyball and the millions of other sports she did after school. Rebecca was weird, but in a sort of endearing way. Like an energetic puppy. With a broken leg. Desmond couldn’t hate her to save his life.

Shaun, on the other hand, was something of a complete asshole. It took a while for Desmond to warm up to him, and he only did it at first because he was reluctant to let go of the safety net Lucy had become. Leaving her group meant that he had to find another one or risk turning into one of those people who reblogged forever alone pictures on their tumblr.

But Shaun, occasionally, would have these moments where Desmond could almost believe that he was not so much of a dick.

“Hey, you know that photography project for Mr. da Vinci’s?” Shaun said, pulling out a folder from his backpack. He pushed Desmond’s food tray, almost off the table before Desmond had the sense to pull it away and balance it over his lap instead with a ‘fuck you’ look.

“Yeah, your subject is candids, right?” Lucy asked, even though she wasn’t even in the photography class. She had a knack for practically knowing what every class had for homework.

“Right, right,” Shaun said, opening the folder. “I’ve already chosen the five I want to turn it, but here are the rest.”

Desmond had always thought Shaun was a little too practical-minded for photography, but there was something in his candid photos that was oddly striking, in their own quiet way; the picture of Lucy reading Pride and Prejudice instead of her chemistry book was a favorite of Desmond’s. And there was another one of Rebecca watching a soccer game with her broken leg propped against a bench, and even a photo of himself, in the middle of opening his locker with a blank, Monday-morning stare. Desmond couldn’t remember when that happened, but it was one of those everyday things, he didn’t think he was meant to remember.

“Well, it’s a bit like writing a history essay, yeah?” Shaun said when Desmond manned up to give him a compliment. “Only with pictures.”

“No,” he said bluntly.

“Man, I like the one with Desmond picking his nose,” Rebecca laughed, holding up the offending picture. “This is going on myspace for sure.”

“What!” Desmond tried snatching to picture from her hand, but when that failed, he grabbed another one from the folder. “Fine, then I guess I’ll post this painfully cute picture of you drooling on your desk. I mean, look at all that drool, Crane. So charming.”

“You do that, Desmond Miles, and I will beat you upside the head with my crutches.”

“Settle down, children,” Shaun drawled. “There’s plenty of blackmail material to go around, though you guys are free to keep the pictures of yourselves.”

Lucy had been flipping through the majority of the photos, a small smile on her face. “Which ones did you choose for your project?”

“Oh, the one with Desmond sneezing, and Rebecca getting one of her crutches stuck in the mud, and I got one of you and Claudia cheerleading with your panties showing.”

Lucy stared at him.

“I’m just kidding,” Shaun said meekly.

“What are you going to do with the rest of them?”

Shaun shrugged. “Probably give them to the people I took the pictures of. Maybe send them to the school paper.”

At that, Lucy raised an eyebrow and held up a photo. “You’ll break a lot of hearts with this one.”

Desmond and Rebecca paused in their bickering to peer at the picture of Mr. da Vinci in the middle of a lecture. It was innocent enough, if not for an older student making the most obvious puppy-dog eyes at him in the background.

“Oh, Ezio,” Rebecca sighed, “May your man-crush never be less obvious than it is now.”

“God, I can’t imagine what will happen once Ezio graduates,” Desmond said, nose wrinkling.

“If they don’t start going out within the first of Ezio’s birthday, I will be disappointed,” Lucy said, and of course, she would know Ezio’s birthday. Though, truth be told, Desmond knew it too, but only because the senior—and most likely homecoming king, if Cesare didn’t beat him to it—threw some damn good parties.

“What’s this? Lucy feeding the fires of gossip?” Shaun teased.

“It’s not gossip if it’s the truth,” Lucy said, shrugging, and went back to looking through the photos. Rebecca snorted into her drink and a fist-bump was exchanged.

“Oh! And speaking of the truth—“ Shaun said, taking the few that Rebecca was sifting through. “Here’s something interesting I took during the football game last week.” He placed a photo in the middle of the table, looking unusually delighted.

Almost fearing for his reputation, Desmond leaned forward, bumping heads with Lucy and Rebecca as they crowded around.

“Okay, it’s Mr. A-Sayf and Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad,” he said, squinting. “Nothing new.” Except both the teachers were smiling, and it wasn’t the kind of evil smile they usually wore when giving out tests.

“Oh, my god, look at their hands,” Lucy whispered, and Desmond took another look.

At first glance it was nothing more than a large group of people enjoying a football game from the stands—Shaun must have been on the way up when he snapped it—but even with the surrounding crowd, it was obvious the two teachers were the focus of the photo. Desmond thought Shaun must have taken it because of the lack of scowl on Mr. A-Sayf’s face, which was surprising enough, but the fact that he was holding hands with Mr. Ibn-La'Ahad gave their smiles a whole new meaning.

Desmond felt himself growing red in the face, as if he was intruding on a private moment, a part of the mysterious lives of teachers when they weren’t being, well, teachers. And from the looks of it, the hand-holding was meant to be discreet, tucked between them and partially hidden by their baggy school spirit sweatshirts. Desmond wouldn’t have noticed it at all if it hadn’t been for Lucy pointing it out.

“But,” Rebecca began, eyes wide, “they’re always arguing. And I’m pretty sure I saw A-Sayf punch Ibn-La’Ahad in the face after school one time.”

“Well, it’s not like they’re going to hold hands and kiss each other during school,” Lucy said, still staring at the picture. “There’s, like, policies on that.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any less weird,” Desmond said, and even Lucy had to agree with that.

“You’re not going to give them the picture, are you?” Rebecca asked, turning to Shaun.

“Oh, no. I was going to make copies of it and blackmail Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad into giving me an A in his class, because I apparently want a deathwish,” Shaun replied, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I’m going to give it to them. Or, rather, Desmond’s going to.”

“What,” Desmond said, leaning back. “No way. You may want a deathwish, but I don’t.”

“It’s a nice picture,” Shaun said, picking it up and waving it in Desmond’s face. “And Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad actually likes you, though I can’t imagine why.”

“He’s going to think I’m creepy,” Desmond protested, but he took the photo anyway, if only because Lucy had given him a look that promised a world of disappointed if he didn’t.

“It’s a nice picture,” Shaun repeated, and stole the fries from Desmond’s lunch tray.

+

Desmond’s best bet was to give the picture after basketball practice, just so that he could run home and not fear Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad’s wrath until the next day.

“Hey, coach,” Desmond said, poking his head into Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad’s office.

“Desmond,” Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad greeted. “What do you need?”

Much like Shaun, Desmond couldn’t figure out why Ibn-La’Ahad liked him so much. It wasn’t as if he was taking Ibn-La’Ahad’s government class (that would be in three years if Desmond stayed long enough), but he supposed that they had somehow bonded through basketball. Desmond wasn’t good enough for the varsity team, but he played for JV when Ibn-La’Ahad convinced him to tryout despite being a freshman (and a little on the short side, but he was assured that he’d grow taller, eventually).

“Uh, my friend was doing this art project,” Desmond began, unzipping his backpack and rummaging for the photos. “And he took a lot of great pictures, but he only needed five of them. There were a few pictures of you, so he figured you should have them.”

He finally pulled out the envelope and handed it over. Already planning to make his escape, Desmond shuffled his way towards the door.

“Oh, thank you,” Ibn-La’Ahad said, as if a little surprised, but not in a bad way.

Desmond hesitated, his hand already on the door. He didn’t want to leave Ibn-La’Ahad with the impression that he was trying to blackmail him. It wasn’t like that at all, and he didn’t want Shaun to get in trouble because—well, Shaun was a pretty nice guy, even though he was an asshole.

And, because Desmond apparently did have a deathwish after all, he stayed.

The other photos in the envelope were less incriminating candids. Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad was frowning in a few, smirking in some, and looking unimpressed in nearly all of them. The picture with him and A-Sayf holding hands had been tucked in the back, since Desmond had the foresight to make sure he had plenty of time to run away.

“There’s a few with Mr. A-Sayf,” Desmond said, unable to help himself. The silence was a little unnerving. “And I was wondering if you could give those to him too since I’m not in his classes.” He didn’t mention that it was hard to sort the pictures properly since Mr. A-Sayf was rarely seen without Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad and vice-versa. Now that Desmond knew about their relationship, it was having a hard time figuring why he hadn’t noticed before.

“These aren’t very flattering,” Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad said dryly, flipping through the pictures. “We look kind of evil.”

Deciding to play it safe and keep his mouth shut, Desmond gave a half-hearted shrug that froze in place when Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad skipped ahead and paused at a picture with a small frown.

“Well,” he said, looking up, his sharp gaze directed at Desmond, almost as if he was waiting.

Desmond resisted the urge to back away, reminded of all the rumors surrounding the government teacher—how many students he’d suspended or expelled, being an ex-hitman, being a secret agent—and none of it very far-fetched. Desmond was inclined to believe them too, if only he hadn’t known Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad to grin or clap a hand over his shoulder whenever Desmond made a three-point shot, or buy him lunch when he had forgotten his money at home.

“They’re nice pictures,” Desmond said, and he wasn’t lying.

To his surprise, Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad smiled, a small echo of the one from the photo. “If you say so. Tell your friend I said thanks.”

“Um, yeah, I will,” Desmond said, taking it as his cue to hurry out of the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

And he let the door swing shut, but not before looking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Mr. Ibn-La’Ahad tacking the photos on the wall, still wearing that smile.

+

So, yeah. Shaun wasn’t that big of an asshole.

His photography project went on display at the school library. He didn’t want anyone to come see it, but it was the least Desmond could do for having to deliver most of his pictures.

“It’s actually pretty good, Shaun,” Rebecca said, grinning. “Is that Federico and Vieri giving each other the evil eye from across the courtyard? Impressive.”

“I like the one with Mr. Lorenzo staring out his window,” Lucy said. “Makes me wonder who’s he looking at.”

“Mr. Auditore,” Desmond guessed. Ezio’s father was just as popular as Ezio himself, probably because of all the money donations he gave to the PTA. “The Kadar one’s my favorite, I think, but the janitor in the foreground kind of ruins it.”

“Yeah, La Volpe’s a creeper,” Shaun agreed. “But I commend you guys for not mentioning the picture of—oh, you know—the one I got points marked down from. I could have gotten an A on the whole project, but no. Didn’t happen.”

The last picture Shaun had submitted was of Lucy, Rebecca, and Desmond, sitting together at their usual spot. There was nothing strange going on, no photo bombs or silly faces; Lucy was looking at something over her shoulder, Rebecca was taking a bite of her sandwich, and Desmond appeared busy catching up on his homework.

It was a good picture, but it was obvious why Shaun had gotten the lower grade for it—there was a blur in the upper left corner, ugly and out of place, where his finger had slipped in front on the lens.

“Well, I like it,” Rebecca announced.

“Hey, it’s a picture of all of us, including you,” Desmond added, nudging Shaun.

“Good job,” Lucy said, grinning. “It’s meaningful. Poetic.”

“Yeah. Well,” Shaun grumbled, the tips of his ears growing pink. “I hope you’re all happy. Da Vinci even pulled me aside to make sure I knew about the smudge.”

“And did you?” Desmond asked, because it would be just like Shaun to lie about now knowing.

“Nope.”

There. See? Not an asshole at all.

Damn anon I bow down to you and how awesome you are with this fic. Like for reals.

I love this, especially the part with Vieri glaring at Federico from across the courtyard C: even though I'm not fond of AltairxMalik it was seriously sweet. Shaun can be an ass, but Desmond and I agree that he has his shining moments.

<3<3<3

Oh AuthorAnon, I'm as pleased as a pretzel! Loved all the random bits and how you included everything on the photos and ekfhjb. <333333333333333333333

WANT MY SOUL? YOU CAN HAVE IT!

oh gosh, oh gosh. I'm so happy you liked it! I will gladly take your soul and snuggle with it. Thank you for giving me the excuse to write this AU without shame, heeee.

Is is wrong that my favourite thing about this fic is the thought of Ezio and Cesare competing for homecoming king? That cracks my shit up.

Bravo, anon, this was so sweet and fluffy~

writer!anon here. ahahah, you don't know how tempted I was to shove in a prom scene, but it wouldn't fit anywhere within the story! Ah, well. I'm glad you liked it!

omg this is fantastic! I'm not usually into AU's but this completely sucked me in and I LOVED IT.

Ezio/Leonardo is amazing. The interaction between Altair and Desmond made me smile and I love how you wrote Lucy. It's spot on and funny and I felt like I was back in high school.

Lovely job! <3

Also, I have to add that I CANNOT stop thinking about barely legal Ezio/Leonardo classroom sex. There would probably be pastel smearing involved.

I've been distracted by the thought all day, damn it.

Anon, you are not the only one! It ~~torments~~ delights me as well. But now that I have an actual image in my head of pastel smearing, I am doomed to even further distraction. XD

writeanon here says you should totally GO FOR IT. :DDD

Seconded, oh yes, seconded.

Sooooo....second anon here from the post above and I kind of started to write this? It just wouldn't leave me be! If the original anon who thought of the pastel smearing was planning to fill, I will gladly cede the floor to them!

Pastel-smearing anon here.

I wasn't planning on filling but I AM ECSTATIC RIGHT NOW. ~~And I prefer top!Leo. You are magic.~~

Yaaay! :3 I will try to have most, if not all, posted tomorrow evening.

Fic is up now! I posted it as a reply to your original comment about the pastels, though in hindsight I guess I could have just done it as a reply to the prompt. Too tired to think of that, I guess. :P

It was growing late in the afternoon when Leonardo heard the knock on his door. He looked up from the pile of sketches spread across his desk and frowned, puzzled by the sound. He often worked late, preferring to grade his students’ assignments in the classroom where he had more space, rather than at home. The school’s strange janitor, Mr. Volpe, had already come by to empty the trash cans and he wasn’t expecting anyone else.

“Come in,” he called and then remembered the door would be locked. The school had recently begun a policy of locking out those students who were late to class and so all the doors had been fixed so they would lock upon closing. Mr. Volpe had let himself in with a key but now, as the knob wiggled but stayed closed, Leonardo knew it couldn’t be the janitor. He stood and hurried over, now even more curious.

“Ah, Ezio,” he said after swinging the door open. “You’re here late.” The young man waiting in the hall looked relieved to see him.

“Hey, Mr. da Vinci. I was at practice and when we got out, I saw your car was still here and so I thought you might be too. Here, I mean,” Ezio added, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I was wondering if you could help me with my year-end project? If you’re not busy?” He leaned a little to the side, trying to see past his teacher, before straightening and looking hopeful. Leonardo chuckled.

“Of course, come in. I was going over some sketches for the beginner’s class but I have time to help.” He stepped aside to let Ezio enter then let the door swing shut as he went back to his desk. Despite the fact that it was always cluttered, even during his lessons, he made an effort to organize it as best he could. Ezio stood in front of the desk, clutching his backpack strap and looking a little awkward as he waited. Leonardo noticed this as he glanced up from shuffling papers and had to smile.

Ezio had looked similarly out of place four years ago when he first showed up for the beginner’s art class, although perhaps with a little more attitude then. Most likely he had wanted to get the credit requirement out of the way early—it was very clear that first day that he had no hidden talent for art—but his resentment at being forced into the class had mellowed as the year when on and surprisingly, he’d returned for a second year and then a third. Now in his senior year, with a schedule that was more than likely only half-full, he was back in Leonardo’s class. His skills had improved with practice, though Leonardo would still hesitate before encouraging him to pursue a career in art.

At first, he had wondered what kept the young man coming back, but after four years it had become quite clear. Leonardo only hoped it wasn't that obvious to anyone else. On the surface it seemed as close to a friendship as they could get despite the line drawn between teacher and student. Ezio often stayed after class to ask questions or just chat and Leonardo made a point of checking on him when he was sent to the headmaster's office. Had Ezio been more interested in art, Leonardo would have considered offering a mentorship but Ezio wasn't interested in art, he was interested in Leonardo. There were times he hardly seemed aware of it himself, though his teacher suspected he might have been in denial for some time.

More recently, Leonardo had caught Ezio watching him when he should have been focusing on the still life on his table or a passage in his textbook. The open yearning in those golden-brown eyes always made Leonardo's mouth go dry, and if he were giving a lecture when their gazes met, his train of thought would instantly be derailed. Once caught, Ezio would look away and appear to be intensely interested in something else, while Leonardo tried to continue as if nothing had happened. They were like satellites in the cosmos but instead of orbiting a sun, they circled around this illicit attraction as if it were a black hole, being pulled ever closer to it.

It didn’t help that Ezio was so attractive, either. The now-famous Auditore charm has been passed on by his father and his older brother Federico had been quite the heartbreaker during his four years. Combine that with a body that would put most modeling students to shame...

Leonardo cleared his throat as he straightened from his desk, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind. He smiled brightly at Ezio and clasped his hands together, hoping nothing showed in his expression.

“Now, your final project. It was pastels, correct? I am more than happy to offer my critique but I hope you weren’t planning on having me finish it.” As he spoke, he unlocked the cabinet where he stored his students’ unfinished works and checked the backs until he found “E. Auditore”. He pulled the scenic painting out carefully before setting it on the easel by his desk. He glanced at Ezio, wondering if his teasing remark had fallen flat, but the young man flashed a quick smile, although he seemed to have an air of nervousness about him. Leonardo mulled this over as he moved to his supply cabinet.

“It doesn’t look like you brought your pastels. Were you using the hard or soft ones?”

“Hard.”

The word came out with a slightly hoarse quality that sent a jolt straight down Leonardo’s spine. He felt a familiar warmth take hold of him and was grateful he had his back to Ezio, so he could close his eyes and take a deep breath. When he let it out, he grabbed two well-worn boxes from the shelf and came back to the desk. A glance at Ezio confirmed what he was beginning to suspect. The young man looked slightly anxious, clearly wondering how his answer had been received. Leonardo resurrected his smile and decided to ignore the remark, for both their sakes.

“It looks like a mix of both, actually, judging by the brightness of some of these colors,” he pointed out and wasn't surprised when Ezio looked momentarily guilty. “Let's look at it together, shall we?”

In hindsight, he realized this was a mistake. The air between them seemed to take on an electric charge as the young man came around the desk to stand beside him. With Ezio this close, Leonardo could see his hair was damp, most likely from showering after practice, and a few drops of water still clung to the nape of his neck. He smelled of generic shampoo and expensive cologne and Leonardo could not for the life of him remember if he'd worn that scent before. Ezio swallowed nervously when their eyes met and Leonardo felt another sizzle across his nerves. He was painfully aware that they were alone in the room, but he forced himself to look instead at the work of art before them.

“So, what did you need help on?” God help him, now he sounded hoarse, the desire coiling so tightly within him it was hard to think. It was a lot easier to stay in control when he had a classroom of other students watching him, their stares reminding him of exactly why he couldn’t give in to those desires.

“My technique.”

Leonardo turned, an exasperated comment ready to remind Ezio his technique was just fine, when the young man leaned forward and kissed him. It was startling and brief, a strange combination for a first kiss, and Ezio looked uncertain as he pulled away. Leonardo was still trying to gather his wits and explain why this was a bad idea when Ezio kissed him again. This time, he leaned in so their bodies touched and Leonardo felt his cock stir as something hard brushed his hip. Ezio's mouth moved against his, trying to coax out a response, and Leonardo felt himself relenting, his lips parting to let in a tentative tongue.

Just a taste, he thought faintly, just a taste and then I'll stop... But Ezio apparently took this as a success because he crowded his teacher back against the desk, now kissing with the clumsy desperation of youth. Leonardo cupped a hand behind Ezio's head, his little finger brushing against the droplets he'd seen before, and he slowly won over control with lips and teeth and tongue, bringing the kiss to a more languid tempo.

When he eventually remembered to stop and pull away, he realized just how breathless they were and how achingly hard he was. Ezio dropped his head to Leonardo’s shoulder, pushing his hips against his teacher with a muffled moan, even as Leonardo grasped for his common sense.

“Ezio,” he said and waited until the young man looked up. His golden eyes were dark with desire and his cheeks were flushed in a way that made Leonardo want to brush his thumbs across them to see if the color would smear like paint.

Focus, focus! he thought at himself sternly.

“Ezio, we shouldn't do this. I could lose my job,” he tried to explain gently but Ezio gripped his arms, as if afraid he would be pushed away.

“I'll be eighteen next month,” he replied quickly. “And I'll be graduating--”

“Then perhaps we should wait,” Leonardo suggested but his breath caught as Ezio rocked against him tentatively. He was aware of his student watching for his reaction, but the friction against his trapped erection seemed to short out his brain for a few seconds and when it passed, Ezio was pressing light kisses along his jaw and down his neck, murmuring words in between.

“I don't want to wait anymore. Please, everyone else has left for the day. It’s just us. No one will know.” He brought their mouths together again and Leonardo felt some of his hunger surge past the wall he’d been trying to maintain for months. He turned them around so that he was pressing Ezio into the desk and a sharp snap of his hips made Ezio moan, a sound that ignited Leonardo's lust, crumbling the wall of control he'd been braced against. He rocked against the young man again, suddenly wanting to be rid of their clothes, to be thrusting up and into him, feeling that incredibly tight heat clenched around him as he drove in again and again...

“Nngh...ah! Mr....da Vinci,” Ezio panted, clutching him desperately and that shocked Leonardo out of his daze. He was dry-humping his not-yet-of-age student against his desk in the middle of the afternoon on school grounds. He was half-surprised he hadn't brought things to a premature end in his frenzy but they were both still hard. Leonardo let out a shaky breath as he forced himself to relax the grip he had on his student's hips.

“Ezio...” He trailed off, staring at lips that were reddened and slightly parted, just begging to be taken again. He glanced at the door, remembering it would have locked again, then back at Ezio, who was waiting tensely for him to continue. He knew he had lost the fight with his conscience. “After today, we can't do...this until after you graduate. Understand?” Ezio nodded eagerly and leaned in but Leonardo put a finger to his lips. “And please, call me Leonardo.”

Fill - After-school Lessons 4/?

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-28 06:06 (UTC) - Expand

Fill - After-school Lessons 5/6

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-28 06:15 (UTC) - Expand

Fill - After-school Lessons 6/6

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-28 06:20 (UTC) - Expand

Just like History [1/?]

Just like History [2/?]

Just like History [3/4]

Just like History [4/4]

Re: Just like History [4/4]

Re: Just like History [4/4]

OP~

writer anon

Re: Just like History [4/4]

Re: Just like History [4/4]

Re: Just like History [4/4]

Re: Just like History [4/4]

Re: Just like History [4/4]

lololol

Re: lololol

what is this i don't even

Re: what is this i don't even

Re: what is this i don't even

Re: what is this i don't even

Fill - After-school Lessons 1/?

Fill - After-school Lessons 2/?

Fill - After-school Lessons 3/?

Fill - Take-home Credit 1/?

Fill - Take-home Credit 2/?

Fill - Take-home Credit 3/?