#(( APPRECIATE THE STORM ART.. WOW.. SO GOOD ))

[pinklotushere]

Five times someone was flustered by nightwing, and the one time it was by dick grayson

That is not to say dick doesn't charm people,he absolutely does, I just think nightwing is very different from dick if you know what I mean, he's got a certain charm that makes me want to rip my heart out and offer it to him

1

The café was dimly lit, its neon “Open Late” sign buzzing softly in the quiet Blüdhaven night. A handful of customers sipped their drinks in peace until the door slammed open, and a masked mugger stormed in, waving a gun.

“Everyone down! Empty the register!” he barked, his voice jittery.

The young barista froze, fumbling with the cash drawer as the customers cowered behind tables. Her hands shook so badly that coins clattered to the floor.

“Move faster!” the mugger yelled, slamming his hand on the counter.

“Maybe try saying ‘please,’” a voice quipped from above.

The mugger spun around just in time to see Nightwing drop from the rafters, landing with feline grace.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“its a cafe,” he said, twirling his escrima sticks. “And you’re ruining coffee night, pal.”

The mugger lunged, but Nightwing dodged easily, knocking the gun out of his hand with a sharp crack. A quick sweep of the leg sent the man sprawling, and within seconds, he was zip-tied to a chair.

The barista stared, wide-eyed, as Nightwing approached her. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, brushing a curl from her face. “Thanks, Hot—uh, Nightwing. Sorry, I didn’t mean—"

“Hotwing, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, fighting back a grin. “That’s a new one.”

Her face turned scarlet. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to say that out loud!”

“Relax,” he said, chuckling as he adjusted his escrima stick on his back and took a peek at her nametag. “Emily, right? You’re good under pressure. Just maybe work on the nicknames.”

She managed a laugh as he turned toward the door. “Thanks again!”

“Anytime,” he called back, disappearing into the night.

2

The apartment building glowed orange against the midnight sky, flames devouring the upper floors. Sirens blared as firefighters scrambled to douse the inferno, but a group was trapped on the fifth floor, coughing and struggling to find an escape.

“Hang tight!” a voice called through the smoke.

The firefighters looked up to see Nightwing emerging from a shattered window, his silhouette framed by the flickering firelight.

“Everyone still breathing?” he asked, scanning the room.

“Yeah, but we’re trapped!” one of the firefighters said. “Ceiling came down behind us!”

“Not a problem.” Nightwing fired his grappling hook, securing it to a stable beam. “Let’s get you out of here.”

As he helped the first firefighter across the rope line, the man stammered, “Holy crap, you’re really Nightwing! I—uh—I’m a huge fan!”

“Appreciate it,” Nightwing said, steadying him. “Now focus on not looking down, okay?”

Once they were all safely outside, the fanboy firefighter turned to his team, still buzzing with excitement.

“Did you see him? He’s even cooler in person!”

The others burst into laughter, and Nightwing, perched on a nearby ledge, called down, “You’re making me blush.” He gave a two-fingered salute before disappearing into the shadows.

3

The moonlight filtered through the trees of Blüdhaven Park, casting long, eerie shadows. Nightwing had just subdued a thief when he noticed someone sitting on a bench nearby, illuminated by the soft glow of a portable lamp.

The young woman was sketching furiously, glancing up at him every few seconds. When she realized he’d spotted her, she froze, her pencil hovering mid-air.

“Nice night for art,” Nightwing said, strolling over.

“Uh… yeah,” she stammered, clutching her sketchpad like a shield.

“What are you working on?”

She hesitated, then flipped the pad around to show him. The drawing captured him mid-leap, his escrima sticks glowing, his movements frozen in perfect, exaggerated detail.

“Wow,” he said, genuinely impressed. “That’s incredible.”

“You think so?” she asked, her cheeks reddening. “I thought I might’ve overdone it…”

He tilted his head, studying the sketch. “Maybe a bit on the muscles, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

She laughed nervously. “Artistic choice?”

“Exactly.” He smiled. “You’ve got talent. Keep at it."

“Thanks,” she said softly.

As he turned to leave, she called out, “Wait! Can I give this to you?”

“Sure,” he said, accepting the sketch. “But only if you sign it. Gotta keep it authentic.”

Her face lit up as she scribbled her name at the bottom. He gave her a wink before vanishing into the night.

4

The clinic was quiet, its fluorescent lights flickering against the darkened windows. Nightwing leaned against the counter, holding a hand over the shallow cut on his arm.

“Can I help—oh!” the nurse gasped, nearly dropping her clipboard when she saw him.

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Didn’t mean to scare you.

“You’re Nightwing!” she blurted, then immediately cringed. “I mean, obviously you’re Nightwing. Sorry! Uh, what do you need?”

“Just a quick patch-up,” he said, lifting his arm. “Nothing too serious.”

She nodded, her hands trembling as she grabbed the supplies. “Sit here, please.”

He perched on the exam table, watching as she cleaned the wound. Her hands steady as she worked.

“You sure I’m not making you nervous?” he teased.

“What? No!” she said quickly, then winced. “Okay, maybe a little. It’s not every night you stitch up a superhero.”

“Fair point,” he said with a grin.

As she tightened the last stitch, he winced.

“Oh no! Did I hurt you?” she asked, looking horrified.

“Not at all,” he said quickly. “You’re doing great.”

She finished and handed him a lollipop from a nearby jar. “For being brave.”

He laughed, tucking it into his belt. “Thanks, doc. I'll eat it with pride.”

5

The night sky over Blüdhaven was clear for once, the stars twinkling above a rooftop wedding. Strings of fairy lights bathed the intimate gathering in a soft glow, and the bride and groom had just started their first dance when chaos erupted.

Three armed men burst onto the rooftop, shouting orders.

“Hands in the air! Phones and wallets, now!” one of them barked, his gun waving wildly.

Guests gasped, clutching each other in fear. The bride clung to her groom, her veil fluttering in the breeze as she whispered, “What do we do?”

Before anyone could answer, a grappling hook hissed through the air.

“Sorry to crash your party,” Nightwing said as he swung in, landing right between the thugs and the wedding party. “But I’m not a fan of uninvited guests.”

The first thug lunged, but Nightwing dodged with ease, disarming him in a heartbeat. The second went for his gun, only to get an escrima stick to the wrist. By the time the third thug turned to run, Nightwing had already tripped him with a spin-kick.

The bride and groom stared, wide-eyed, as Nightwing zip-tied the men and turned back to the guests.

“Everyone okay?” he asked, brushing off his gloves.

The bride stepped forward, her dress shimmering in the light, face slightly flushed “We are, thanks to you. You saved our wedding!”

“Glad I could help,” Nightwing said, his grin warm. He glanced at the decorations. “Nice setup, by the way. Love the string lights.”

“Stay for cake?” the groom asked, half-joking, his face suspiciously warm.

Nightwing chuckled. “Tempting, but I’m on the clock. Congrats, though!”

As he turned to leave, the bride called after him, “Wait! At least let us take a photo! You’re part of our night now."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Alright, but just one.”

The guests quickly gathered, and someone snapped the shot: the bride and groom in the centre, with Nightwing standing behind them, his arms crossed, and a playful smirk on his face.

“Thanks again,” the bride said as Nightwing stepped back.

“Anytime,” he replied, disappearing into the shadows.

+1

The mall was bustling with weekend shoppers, the hum of conversation, and the jingling of a carousel filling the air. Dick was taking a rare day off, dressed casually in jeans and a leather jacket, sipping a coffee as he strolled through the crowd.

A small voice caught his attention.

“mama? Mama?”

Dick turned to see a little girl standing near a fountain, clutching a stuffed bunny to her chest, her wide eyes brimming with tears. She couldn’t have been older than five.

“Hey there,” he said gently, crouching to her level. “You lost?”

She nodded, sniffling. “I can’t find my mommy.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her,” Dick said with a reassuring smile. “What’s your name?”

“Lila,” she whispered.

“Hi, Lila. I’m Dick.” He held out his hand, and she took it hesitantly. “Now, let’s go find your mom. Do you remember what she was wearing?”

“A pink sweater,” Lila said, clutching his hand tightly as they weaved through the crowd.

It didn’t take long before Dick spotted a frantic-looking woman near the food court, scanning the area with wide eyes.

“Lila!” the woman called, relief flooding her face as she spotted them. She rushed over, dropping to her knees to hug her daughter tightly. “Oh my goodness, I was so worried!”

“Mama!” Lila cried, wrapping her arms around her mother.

The woman looked up at Dick, her cheeks flushed. “Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would’ve done if—” She cut of, suddenly realizing who he was.

“You’re… Dick Grayson?” she asked, her eyes widening.

Dick laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s me. I’m just glad I could help.”

The woman’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “I… uh… Wow, okay. Thank you. Really. You’re—uh—taller in person.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly playful. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She laughed nervously, still flustered. “I didn’t mean to—sorry! I’m a little overwhelmed."

“No need to apologize,” he said warmly. “I’m just glad Lila’s safe.”

“Thank you again,” she said, glancing between him and her daughter. “You’re a real hero.”

Dick gave a small wave to Lila, who beamed up at him. “You’re welcome. Stay close to your mom, okay?”

“I will!” Lila said, hugging her bunny tightly.

As Dick walked away, the woman muttered under her breath, “Of course he’s ridiculously nice, too.” She shook her head, still blushing, as she scooped up her daughter and headed home.

[burnwater13]

Grogu stands on fabric showing watercolor pans of various colors. Next to him is a watercolor of a sea turtle on hot press cotton watercolor paper (painting by me). Various water color tools, including paints, a pallet, and a brush are set in front of Grogu.

The artist within…

Grogu had been surprised to find out that Nevarro had an art school. Not because a planet that was trying to put it’s pirate and Imperial past behind it couldn’t pursue the arts as a means of improving the lives of its citizens. He just couldn’t believe that the High Magistrate hadn’t told him as soon as it had happened. After all, Greef Karga was the proud owner of numerous Grogu originals. Grogu thought it would have just been common courtesy to let him know that an artist colony had sprung up on the southern expanses of the city. 

Putting that aside, once Grogu learned about the artists who had traveled from all over the Outer Rim to come join a like minded community on Nevarro, he had to find out more about them. The first thing he found out was they were holding an open house at their art school. He was glad to find that out and got all the details from C-29 and then verified those details with IG-11-M.  The copper colored protocol droid wasn’t as reliable as it should have been. It could have sent Grogu a notice about the art school obtaining it’s permit to operate, giving him a heads up on a topic that it knew was near and dear to his heart. It wasn’t like the High Magistrate actually pinned those sketches to the walls of his office. Grogu knew C-29 did that work. But that hadn’t happened and Grogu wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon.

When he and his dad finally had a chance to talk about things other than chores, meals, improvements to the N-1, future work for the folks on Mandalore, and their next trip to Tatooine and points beyond, Grogu managed to bring up the topic of the art school open house.

“I don’t know, Kid. We’re pretty busy right now. I don’t even know what you do at an open house. It’s not the sort of thing we did on Concordia.”

Grogu sighed at his dad and then thrust a brochure at him. 

“‘Come one, come all. Bring your children. Outer Rim Art School on Nevarro is open for the fall semester sign up. Visit our brand new facility. Walk through galleries where you will witness unique art installations, examples of the work of our instructors, and be able to participate in a one of kind group art workshop. We have classes for beginners to experts. Don’t be shy. Help create a more beautiful Nevarro.’ Wow. They’re really selling this place hard, kid. Why do you want to go? You already know how to sketch.”

Yes. That was true. Grogu was a pretty good, even if he said so himself, at sketching true to life scenes. He was improving with daily practice and he was hoping that he’d be able to find an instructor who appreciated both his artistic vision and his unique limitations. Not every tool designed for his comp or for use with sketch pads worked as well for his small hands as they probably did for humans, or Twi’lek’s, or even Gamorreans. He needed some guidance on how to handle that (no pun intended). 

Grogu also wanted to branch out and learn how to make other types of art. He’d done some painting, but that was mostly with durable paints that his dad agreed looked good on the walls of the cabin. Since his dad was a boring Mandalorian without artistic soul of any kind, Grogu had been compelled to stick to a single color pallet and carefully blended coverage that just looked like a color and not something far more interesting, like the night’s sky, or an ocean during a storm, or the depths of space when purrgils were flying/floating by. Which was boring. He wanted to do something more exciting with art. 

Grogu tried to explain that all to Din Djarin. He was pretty sure that the Mandalorian was immune to his message. 

“You want to take a course in what? Watercolor? I’ve never even heard of that. As far as I know, pure, unadulterated water is clear. It doesn’t even have a color.”

Grogu explained, as patiently as he could, that watercolor painting used special paint that was heavily pigmented and soluble in water, allowing you to thin it to an appropriate color density for the piece of art you were working on. He also explained that it came in a lot of colors and used special materials. His dad was still not quite understanding.

“But you already have markers. Why would you need a whole different system of materials and techniques to do what you already do with something that smells nice and washes out of your coveralls?”

Grogu felt like he had to put his foot down. He asked his dad why he had a whole cabinet of weapons in the cabin and in the storage compartment of the N-1. A storage compartment, by the way, that could have been used to bring something better than ration packs on long journeys. 

“That’s not the same thing at all kid. Each of those devices has a unique purpose. I select which ones I’m going to use based on the nature of the threats we’ll be facing, the general conditions of the environment and how many people… oh. So you want to branch out and develop additional skills?”

Grogu nodded his head quickly. He was surprised that his dad picked up the similarities between their hobbies with so little pushing on his side of things. 

“Okay. We can go to this open house thing. We’ll also see if they have a study at home course. We travel a lot and I can’t guarantee that you’ll be available on a routine basis to attend in person classes. Maybe they have a kit designed for travel. Something small that won’t take up a lot of space.”

Grogu grinned at the thought of painting with watercolors while sitting on his dad’s lap in the N-1. He wondered if phthalo blue stained beskar or not. It stained everything else, but maybe his dad wouldn’t notice? He was pretty sure that this was one of those times that discretion was the better part of valor. He’d deal with that hill when they reached it.

[inventors-fair]

Victorious: One-Word Winners ~

Our winners this week are @curiooftheheart, @horsecrash, and @xenobladexfan!

@curiooftheheart — Maroon

Sometimes you just have to have that sweeping effect, don't you. It's a big uncommon spell that does a lot of work to remove some massive threats and/or save your own permanents, and you can just redraw things if need be. It's a serious thinker of a card that forces choices in a way that I'm thoroughly impressed with. Now, to delve into the flavorful aspect, I feel that there's a sense of abandonment that could be attributed to marooning that could've gone on a bunch of different types of cards. The choice to abandon being left up to the permanents' controller is pretty cool to me, and the drawing feels like a nod of affirmation: if you survive this, I'll match you card for card.

What a limited blowout at parity if this resolves, though. Maybe this card feels at first like a lot of text, but it's strong enough to be grokable and it's grokable enough to be a stellar example for this contest. Sometimes you need all that space to tell what the card needs to do. I still think that a little art direction could've been a personal touch, but that's not really necessary on a card that's explaining exactly what's happening through its rules text. When the rules are the story, and the story's part of a larger trope on an established world (and like, I assume Ixalan, but I'm flexible), then there's power in the card's own overall presentation that's being evoked here. Good job in knowing where to draw that line, and good job playing with big blue space. The octopus is a good touch. Keep that around.

@horsecrash — Scowl

Before I get into the flavorful aspect, I think that the mechanics here are pretty much just what wither wants to do. Wither's return is...lemme check real quick. Wow, a seven on the storm scale? Really? I guess that's fair because of R&D and -1/-1, but whatever. I think the world can make it happen just like how madness happened. A "bite" spell that can sink a creature down permanently is pretty much exactly what an uncommon slot would want, so no complaints there. It's not hard removal, but it's removal to me, as all bite spells want to be. If your opponent isn't attacking into a stalled board, too bad! This card forces your favor and forces interaction, and I love that little precision.

But that flavor text. Gadzooks. It's curt, it's emphatic, and it's final. "I'm going to Scowl" is a hell of a line to drop across the table, and there's that side to Lorwyn elves that really differentiates them from the rest of the elves in the multiverse—that utter disdain, that hierarchical horror. The sense that they can just twitch their brow and have something shrivel from the utter disdain is something I can clearly picture here without a shred of doubt. It's a clear marriage between the effect of the card and the world in which the card is presented, and what could be better than that? There were a few ideas that I thought were neat, but in the inbox, this was one of the first cards where I could clearly distinguish a favorite. Huh. I really hope Diedra appreciates that, because it's a little awkward to gush knowing that the elves would've expected this outcome...

@xenobladexfan — Eternalize

Straight up, we were a little surprised that this specific kind of effect hadn't been done. I guess it makes sense considering that there would've been no room for it in the sets leading up to the whole Eternals thing in Magic. All the same, though, it's all-around sensible, innit? The flavor is something we've sort of seen before, but not in the sense of an overdone trope—more like, we know that it's an event that's happened in the past and it's an expected situation resulting in a cool card. Having the rites of initiates turn into a book of sorts is neat as well, although I'm not sure how well it meshes with lore? Eh, having a book of rites makes sense. It's a fitting end to a scroll, actually, and it's got a good horrific feeling without being over-the-top. This is what it means to be eternalized from the voice of a writer.

And the effect is exactly what we'd expect! Pseudo-cloning your own ETB effects or making an Army even bigger in the long term is fun, but milling an opponent and stealing one of their value creatures is fun too. And getting something big off the board is relevant at five mana. I think in hindsight I was too enamored with this card to note that it should be a rare, because multiple removal-and-present effects at uncommon would be a little warping. I think in the end that would be my only criticism, because I want this effect to happen and I want to play with it. Literally the closest thing I could find from a cursory search is Nemesis Trap or Supplant Form, neither one of which does this exact effect. I could have sworn... But this card knows what it wants to be. It's a moment from the Bolas arc, it's a strong removal spell, and it's a limited-designed hella strong effect. Glory to the god-dude.

And who's right behind them? Let's find out soon. @abelzumi

[animalinvestigator]

pleasseeeee epleasr is there writings or stories to read abt cathy and lupe apart from the ones on th,,, this is so good and so cool i love religious symbolism (as someone who is religious)

like. i would read a whole book about these two /srs

hi hi anonymous! wow thank you so very much. it means so much to me that you're that intrigued by these two, and that what i have shared about it has touched your heart this much. i would really like for you to be able to read a book about these characters someday. out of everything ive ever made art-wise and story-wise, the ideas i have for them are the ones i would most desperately like to put out into the world. so, hopefully someday i can be like, why yes, here's this visual novel or comic or whatever ive made about cathy and lupe...that day is not right now though haha. as of right now, my toyhouse is the only really centralized location that i have information about them on. however, you can also peruse the "ocs" tag on this blog (which this post will be tagged with) where ive answered quite a few questions about them here and there, if you haven't already. besides those two places, it all lives only in my head for right now! but, hopefully, in the not too distant future, that will change and i can share this story that i'm really passionate about with you.

i'll answer your questions about cathy briefly under the cut!

the wound on cathy's palm is from a year or two-ish before the plot of the story! it was totally accidental, and happened when she was handling construction tools while trying to help her family build the chicken coop in their backyard and accidentally got got with a nail. it was a pretty painful and scary incident, and necessitated stitches, so she ended up with a little scar. the placement of the wound became the basis of her self-image for quite a while... in her eyes, it's stigmata, so she came to see herself as a prophet. when the story starts, the version of her self-concept that is predicated on the scar on her hand is under storm-and -stress and slowly being phased out for something new. so, it's not a super important detail of her design, but the point is that the signs she relies on to build her concept of the world come and go, and usually are the result of totally incidental circumstances that are convenient for her to read into.

as for the second question, not well at all, and that's by cathy's design. most of the things she does in that part of the story are the result of her trying to willfully incur as much punishment as possible, so she knew that it would be reacted to incredibly poorly, and that's precisely why she did it. "traditional femininity" is valued pretty highly in their family (the daughters are not allowed to wear trousers, to put things into perspective) , and even moreso than that, cathy's parents try really hard to prevent their kids from exerting any kind of bodily autonomy at all since it threatens their control AND the way they look to their peers.

i really appreciate your interest, thank you for letting me talk for a bit about my girllsss :3 here's a quick doodle of cathy as thanks

[naamahdarling]

I think there's this idea that nonfiction is boring, because at least in the United States our exposure to nonfiction in school is almost exclusively textbooks, which are horrifically boring.

But nonfiction isn't boring at all! There are riveting popular nonfiction books about literally any subject that interests you, and those books come in just about any length you could want. Even better, consulting popular nonfiction book lists from the last few years is a really good way to find books that will actually be in your library system. If you're like me, you live in a place where it is very apparent that libraries are for lending books, and are not archives.

I recommend any of these:

The Butchering Art: Joseph Lister's Quest to Transform the Grisly World of Victorian Medicine by Lindsey Fitzharris -- EXTRAORDINARY, obvs a bit grisly. Actually, many of my recommendations have their moments, so be aware of that. Alternates between a bio of Lister and discussion of Victorian medicine. I thought the biography part would be boring, but it turns out Lister was a really cool dude. Like, he sounds like he was a lovely person. Something it really drove home for me was how utterly and unusually filthy Victorian cities were. It's no wonder we falsely think people in prior eras were super gross and didn't bathe or clean things. A lot of our attitudes towards history were formed during an era when that was true. We still tend to very much believe that sanitation and cleanliness has risen steadily, in an inevitable upward trend, because that's kind of how we see most history. It isn't true at all. The book doesn't go into this, this is just me airing a pet peeve.

The Facemaker: A Visionary Surgeon's Battle to Mend the Disfigured Soldiers of World War I by Lindsey Fitzharris. About Dr. Harold Gillies, who pioneered reconstructive surgery techniques on WWI survivors. Very good. The audiobook is narrated beautifully by Daniel Gillies, who is Dr. Gillies's great great grand nephew. I haven't read very much about WWI, and this book convinced me that I need to, and also that it will be very difficult going. I was aware that it was bad. I didn't appreciate just how bad.

Isaac's Storm: A Man, a Time, and the Deadliest Hurricane in History by Erik Larson. WOW this was good. About the guy who established the National Weather Service, Isaac Cline, an interesting dude but also just some guy, about the HORRIFYING Galveston Hurricane of 1900, about weather science. If you live in hurricane or tornado country, this might really interest you. It sounds boring but it wasn't. It was so cool! The passage describing how hurricanes develop was so beautiful. The passages describing what the hurricane was like as it was happening were riveting and frightening. The passages about the aftermath had a lot of impact.

The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America is about both serial killer H. H. Holmes and the Chicago World's Fair of 1893. I am given to understand that the Holmes parts are sensationalized and not as accurate as they ought to be, but it's still really interesting, and all the stuff about the Fair, how it came about, the crazy challenges, the architects, and just how much of it barely happened at all, wound up being the most interesting part.

The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl by Timothy Egan. I genuinely did not expect to be glued to this but it was a riveting look at an oft-ignored time. The Dust Bowl was a manmade ecological disaster, preventable, and its effects were profound. But this is also about people, living through it. My grandparents were children then, and I live in dust bowl country, so this was especially interesting.

From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death by Caitlin Doughty. Her books are so good. This one is about unusual death traditions around the world, and what they can teach us about humans, grief, love, and notions of the afterlife. Not at all religious in nature, not voyeuristic, not judgmental, written with sensitivity.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory by Caitlin Doughty. Again, good. Fascinating look at the death professions from inside. This is her job, so it's really closely observed. Hugely helpful in demystifying these jobs and what really happens.

find local theater near you. go to local theater near you. read plays. read non-fiction books. read fiction books written over one hundred years ago. go to the movie theater. watch movies with subtitles. watch slow movies. watch challenging movies. watch movies made for less than five million dollars. watch a documentary. watch television shows that have no fandoms. watch classic television shows. watch television shows starring actors that have no social media. read criticism of your favorite media frequently. think critically about your favorite media often. consume media made for adults.

[fizzingwizard]

eps 3 and 4...

OK, what I said about the lack of atmosphere... Ep 3 has that in spades. Wow. Also, those horror movie nightmare creatures...! They were right out of an Itou Junji comic. Loved it.

Because of that, I want to give this episode like all the gold stars... But I can't!! Because how can you just shoehorn Madeleine Pryor in like that? With literally no build up??? We had perfect Jean for two episodes, then the beginning of ep 3 she's all "NO! I AM JEAN GREY!" Like she recently gave birth, but the instant the thought's floated that she might be a clone, the vibe is clearly "she's evil."

It all happened so fast. That's what I mean about the pacing. I know there aren't a lot of episodes to work with in this show, but damn it moves fast. Idk if anyone but someone who is already an X-fan could appreciate it, because what I appreciate is the experience of going "ah yes, I remember this from the comics, it was fun," rather than the episode being fun itself. Still, like I said, this episode WAS fun regardless because it had some really cool moments.

I was honestly scared that she WOULD just be straight up evil, because Madeleine never gets a fair shake. So I'm happy that Jean was decent enough to reach out and that Madeleine was strong enough to choose to go her own way at the end.

It's the kind of story that just doesn't work in a single episode. Madeleine deserved more - Jean deserved more. And Scott, who had such a good performance in the first two episodes, is just so useless here. He's just along for the ride. Doesn't seem overly concerned with Jean or Madeleine, and barely concerned with Nathan. When they discover Nathan's virus, and Madeleine suggests sending him with Bishop to look for a cure, Scott just yells "I can't be a part of this" and storms off. My dude. That still makes you a part of it. It just also makes you too cowardly to say goodbye to your own kid, wth.

And his abandonment issues are valid but like yelling "don't any of you know what it's like to be abandoned" to a room full of mutants who very much do know...?

I want to say this is all good character development for Scott... in the sense that he's not the perfect leader, he has his flaws as well as his strengths, and this is one example. That'll have to be explored in the future though. If the episode didn't move so fast and spent a little time in Scott's head, maybe I'd sympathize with him more. Right now it seems like his wife (Madeleine) had a horrible identity crisis and was immediately abandoned by her husband, and also had the balls to do what's best for her son, while said husband just walked away. It could be good for Scott story-wise... it could even be good for Madeleine. But Madeleine is never treated well.

Also...

... this is the ugliest baby ever lmao. what is it about animation and not being able to draw babies!!!! look at the chin on him. i know he grows up to be cable but STILL. he looks thirty-five!!!!

---

Ep 4 has a lot of atmosphere too, both sections. So that's great, I guess the first two were just kinda rocky but they've figured it out now.

Wolverine: "I second the blue rogaine ad" ;-; wolvie...

The Mojo bit, despite having a filler feel (like all Mojo eps do), was a lot of fun, it was great to have Jubilee do something - even though she still sounds very much like "trademark 13 year old X-girl" as a newly minted 18 year old xP "like duh totally" what year is it bahaha

Loved the colors and the kiss.

But my favorite was definitely the second part with Ororo and Forge. Despite all its baggage, that's one of my favorite Ororo ships. I was really enjoying them while also waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm disappointed but not surprised... still kinda hoping things work out though. The art for this part was so lovely, with Forge's cozy cabin and the sunlit desert views. And Ororo herself just seems really well-written to me. Between this and ep 3, the X-women are getting some good stories going on. I like Ororo's better than Jean's, but that's normal for me.

Forge please gimme some of that chili.

bonus I know this is longshot but for a hot second i thought jubilee had a donald trump doll:

[always-andromeda]

teehee hiii hello! :D im very new to the danonation community, despite being an admirer of mr paul for almost a year now,,, there's so many amazing people and content they make but, it's really overwhelming and a bit scary to explore on my own! you're one of the few people i instantly felt safe to approach so, would you be so kind as to direct me a little bit? which danonation blogs are active right now, or maybe even personal friends of yours, just to start my journey in this community? i really really wanna participate, but since i don't have a single creative bone in me and can't contribute in art or writing, the least i can do is give love to all of you lovely people!! 🥰 thank you for your time 💛

p.s. if you don't mind, i might have more questions later!

p.s.s. your blog themes are always so adorable and so so aesthetically pleasing it's amazing 😭💞

Hey hi hello, my friend!! Thank you so much!! I’m gonna leave all of my account recommendations under the cut because wHOO I went a little bonkers! Other than that, you’re always welcome to shoot me an ask whether you have a question or you just wanna say hello! Super glad to have you here and I hope that you have fun getting to know everyone and everything!!

@lost-in-sokovia

I couldn’t get through a post about talking about creators in Danonation and/or my friends without mentioning Soph. Not only is she immensely talented, but her ability to shift between writing the sweetest moments and angst is basically unmatched. Shoutout to her for warming me up to the concept of having kids tbh bc wOW I did not see that one coming! She’s also one of my closest friends on here and I would heavily recommend giving her a follow and sending an ask; she’s absolutely precious to me and deserves all the love this community can possibly give her (but that’s just my opinion 🙄).

@quietsounds

Now, if we're talking about my friends, I have to drag my wonderful Storm into the conversation as well since we met through Danonation. Storm has a wiiiide range of interests and gifs a lot of different things bUT his gif sets are fucking phenomenal. He hasn't been super active on here lately but I would still recommend dropping him a follow because lmao I am hugely biased (because I love and adore him) and because he's one of the most creative people I know and his work deserves to be seen by as many eyeballs as possible and fully appreciated.

@riddlersbimbo

Okay, I should preface that Bowie is on a bit of a hiatus and they’re kind of running on a queue schedule. However. I still adore Bowie with all of my heart. I genuinely cannot explain it; all I know is that I was born to be Bowie's biggest fan. Aside from that, they are such a pillar in this community. The work they put into giffing every Paul movie?? And furthering the Chubby!Eddie agenda?? And the bimbo agenda?? Listen, on this account, we’re all Bowie stans (lmao, new mandate, friends; we’re all Bowie stans now).

@puzzlekinq

It’s only been for the last few months that I’ve been following Ethan bUT LEMME JUST SAY. I cannot fathom how my dash survived beforehand. You can be sure that Ethan will always have something either slightly unhinged, horny, or downright hilarious to post. They also write a bit as well and it’s some damn good writing if I do say so myself!! Also literally every time they post this plays in my head (but that piece of information is more for Ethan's benefit than anyone else's lol).

@riddlers-den

I feel like almost everyone in my little circle has read or at least heard of Max’s Edward fic, Disarm. And I can confirm, Disarm is fantastic. But I also adore basically everything else of hers that I’ve read. Max’s interpretation of characters (specifically Eddie and Calvin) just makes my writing brain so happy. She is also incredibly funny, a massively talented artist, and a very lovely person to talk to and I couldn’t imagine this little community without her.

@finniestoncrane

I should preface this recommendation by saying that Finnie doesn't post purely Dano content and is more in the realm of the DC fandom in general. I would also give her content warnings a once over beforehand since they might not be everyone's cup of tea! But I still wanted to include her here because, her work and her personality has always inspired me so heavily and...goodness, I love being able to call her one of my mutuals. Her sense of humor is top notch; like truly, whenever she posts her little pictures where she draws herself as a stick figure wrapped around one of the Rogues, I lose my absolute mind. Anyways, stan Finnie too, Finnie is the coolest.

@bloomdolly

If you are in the market for a cutesy, coquettish aesthetic and Paul content wrapped up in one super sweet and kind person? Look no further than Ushuaia! I swear, every time I interact with her it feels like I’ve been hit was this pastel ray of light complete with lace frills and ribbons. She’s the absolute sweetest and the bits of her creations that she’s put out reflect that entirely and I can’t wait to see what else she can think up!

@the-odd-devil

Goodness, it feels like Odd and I have been mutuals for literally forever because they’ve been there pretty much since the beginning of this account?? I always love getting a chance to interact with them and it’s been so cool seeing them start to develop their own ideas (and I swear, Odd, I will get to your dark academia college!Eddie fic as soon as I get a chance to actually sit down and read it). Also…their 70s Pornstar!Jimmy Tree headcanons…god if they ever post about them, I will actually lose my mind.

@starlightsearches

Fun fact: Star was among the first fic writers I read from when I first got into Danonation! They are a multi-fandom blog but again, I just had to include them because their writing is fucking intoxicating and I'm sorry but I'll never get over it.

@danoberry

So this serves as apology to Wren for being awful at keeping up with fics lately because ages ago I know I promised to read one of her Calvin fics and then I never did sO I AM SO SORRY. But this also serves as me taking the chance to gush over her work. Like y'all know I will fawn over anything Joby Taylor related and her Joby fic, i'm so sick...GIRL I'M SO SICK ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEE. Like truly...I lost my mind for part of a day when she followed me because hahahah I'm a nervy little guy and I am always so hesitant to make new mutuals (especially when they're this talented goodness gracious).

@jeusschrist2005

Okay, I will admit that I'm also a little newer to their work! But goodness gracious, just from the bits I've seen of both their Joby fic and their Eli stuff, I love what I've read so far and I really wanted to include them on this list as well!!

[caelanglang]

Hey, thanks for the comic. I needed that. The sunset imagery, footsteps on a beach which will be erased in moments, but mean so much more than it's temporary existence. Stains on your hands, on cloth, temporary to the sight but permanent to the psyche. The little things that will stab you every now and then, threatening to cause you to stumble and fall.

But also, getting up from that. Taking a step forward through the pain, because maybe the light at the end of the tunnel is worth it. Maybe the stains can give way to new paintings. A brighter smile awaits at the end of the road.

I hope you're doing okay, and having a good day. Glad to see your art on my dash as always!

<33

it reached you :,)) I'm glad it helped!! and wow... your writing is so good ToT this message is so beautiful I felt like clutching my chest while reading it ;w; there's just something so magical and unreal seeing my work leaving ripples that push people to interpret or create something out of it... thank you so so much for this.

Pain and frustrations and struggles and sufferings... they are inescapable, but experiencing and sometimes succumbing to them doesn't make us worth any less for the light that follows after the storm. "Maybe the stains can give way to new paintings." I love that line! (I'm saving it!!!! <3) Sometimes, temporary things feel like they will last forever, for better or worse. I've come to realize that there are way more temporary things in life than constant ones. But, just like how no sunsets are ever the same even if they are a constant thing in our everyday lives, we are an ever-changing "always". Looking back, the past-me could never imagine what present-me is at right now. We may not be walking in line with our plans, but hey, nobody plans what a sunset should look like even if they know it's gonna happen, right? That doesn't mean the sunset is uglier or should be appreciated less! (I hope my rambling is making sense oops)

Sorry if this message got too long ><;; I've been seeing your kind words for a while now and they make my day brighter too! It's always fun and encouraging to visit the notes you guys leave behind. Thank you for dropping this sweet message. I will cherish it!! <3 I hope you have a wonderful day ahead too!!

[valenhell]

From the studio that brought you “I can’t find good Byler fics in the ao3 tag”, comes:

"The Definitive Byler fic rec list"

Literally no one asked for this but because I spent the majority of last year (...and 2019, and 2018...) reading byler fics and coping with life, I thought I’d make a list of some of my absolute favorites. 

The other day I was basically starving for some byler fics and the angel @magicalfairy provided me with some of her faves so I thought I’d do the same, because I love reading, and I love all of these fics and I appreciate their writers💗 And fic writers in general, come on!

- This is a mix of long works and one-shots/short stories. - Everything is mostly fluff with a tad of angst and a lot of internalized homophobia conflict.  - Every fic is completed, except for the ones I mention that they are not. - I try my best to lay out the stories in a way that I won’t spoil you the plot but also warning you of some stuff you might don’t like. Either way, all of these fics are correctly tagged by their respective authors/owners, so read at your own risk. For better understanding, in between brackets I denote Rating, Words and quantity of Chapters. - I feel like I should clarify, none of these are narrated in the singular first person. None of that “And I told him...”, no. 

Long fics

a dream always the same (T, 99k, 35 chapters) What happened in those few weeks between the Battle of Starcourt and the Byers leaving Hawkins. Literally a satisfying and very needed fill in of season three, with a good dose of Mike’s thoughts and conflict. Mike’s characterization is specially amazing in this one. The writing style is amazing and I know the author put everything into making it historically accurate, and it was really sweet. You probably read it, it’s by the amazing sevensided here on Tumblr🧡

Spring Break (T, 120k, 14/15 chapters) The slowburn of my dreams. Lots of internalized conflict and conflict with each other. Conflict within the Party (uhh kind of), conflict with Mike and Will. Byers family has moved and the kids are visiting! Chaos. Characterization is on point. Yeah, I know it’s unfinished, but the fourteenth chapter actually serves as a pretty nice ending. 

This is where it starts (M, 148.8k, 24 chapters) Aged up characters. The Party is in college and Will disappears again, but now it’s different. Mike knows he didn’t vanish from thin air, and the discovery he and the Party end up making is pretty insane. Mystery solving/fantasy/third dimension, throw in a bit of D&D and Mike realizing some shit, and you get this marvelous fic. It’s a breath of fresh air. The world building is definitely one of the elements that stands out the most, because it’s very nicely described, it sounds like a dream and it’s completely immersive. Absolute gem of a fic. 

there’s a Starman waiting in the sky (M, 30.6k, 8 chapters) Do I need to say anything? Will is out there living his best life and Mike realizes that wow, umm, maybe his best friend looks a bit too nice with that costume... and wait, is he getting horny? It’s actually really fun and sexy.

The Evening Speaks (T, 23k, 7 chapters) In where Mike is a late-night college radio host and Will is the art student that stays up till late to catch up with Wheeler on the Mic. They flirt through songs y’all, this one is really sweet. 

heads or tails? (E, 24k, 3 chapters) Aged up characters. I know most people don’t enjoy sex in fics and with specific characters but this one is insanely well written. It’s a slowburn that commits to the tension and with every word you are grasping and anticipating their next move. I think you can find the author here on Tumblr as yousaidyes🧡

The Man of Average (M, 56.7k, 5/? chapters) Aged up characters. No but you don’t understand, the writing here is absolute gourmet. The story is exciting as well, it’s super interesting. Weirdly enough, for being very aged up characters, they are well characterized but they don’t feel like teenagers. They are naturally Mike and Will. The author really captured Mike and Will’s essence. I know, it’s unfinished and it’s updated very rarely, but this is the typical fic you can’t believe someone just posted on the internet for free. I will say though, I think it’s definitely not for everyone. Read at your own risk.

Heartstrings (E, 82.8k, 24/? chapters) Aged up characters. By the same author of The Man of Average. A collection of memories, the road to Mike and Will’s happy ever after. And fucking hell!!!!! You’ll cry and get angry, you’ll cheer for them, then you’ll want to crash their faces together because god dammit you love each other!!! But yeah, same thing here. The writing and the way the story is laid out as a nonlinear narrative is brilliant. And I also think this is one of the best Will versions I’ve read. The author might as well be the og creator of this two characters tbh. You can find the author here as mylesimeblr🧡

Sinners behind the walls (T, 1.5k, 1/1) And because I can’t stop recommending this author, a little thing of Mike tormenting himself but also being too deeply committed to Will. 

The Red Envelope series (T/E, 167K, two completed works) Something happens that Will thought was impossible and from there, pure drama and romance. Anything by this author has the potential to become your absolute favorite fic, but this series in particular is amazing. I doubt that any of you haven’t read this, but it doesn’t hurt to put it in this list. I’m pretty sure the author is serendipitous-magic on Tumblr🧡

A New Fight series (T, 91k, two completed works, one WIP) And finally the Star Wars AU that we all needed. But this isn’t your typical “Mike is Han”, “Will is Leia” and “El is Luke”, it’s way more interesting than that, and the author has appropriated the Star Wars world like no other. I’ll admit I’m not a 100% fluent in SW lore but this is amazing to me either way. This author is also on Tumblr, tea-for-one-please🧡

- Yes, most of these are (if not all), in a way, canon compliant/canonverse/canon continuation into fanon. (In a way)

One-shots and short stories

Sundae for Two, Please (G, 4.8k) Steve being the supportive friend and older brother these kids collectively need. (not Jonathan erasure, we love him). Steve is very sweet himself, and this little cute thing through his POV is gorgeous. Yes, it’s byler.

Backstage (T, 10k, 2/2) Jonathan, you forgot to mention to Will how hot your new band’s guitarist is, dude. Now he’s hyperventilating and weirdly flirting with him in the corner. Background Stonathan because why not.

102 Peach Street (G, 3.8k) Established relationship, but not only that, they are married :’’))) PURE fluff. Extreme fluffiness. Diabetes. 

sweatshirts and bottled up feelings (T, 3.2k) Or, Mike thinks that the sweatshirt Will wears looks insanely good on him. And kitchens are for lovers. 

kiss it better (T, 16.3k) Basically one of the best character studies of a few precise moments of Mike and Will’s relationship and feelings. 

will wonders ever cease (T, 11.3k) #i ship will and happiness. Omfg what a beautiful piece of fanfic. Will centric, this kid really deserves all the good in the world.

The Calm After the Storm (T, 1.6k) Tooth rotting fluff, boyfriends in love. Boyfriends being lazy, cuddling, love words, kisses. Boys loving each other’s company... Basically, Mike and Will in their element. What more can you ask for?

neither of us ready to let go (T, 4.8k) That scene from season three, but a bit of a fix it. 

Still in love (G, 1k) Domestic, married life au fluff. Y’all, I’m a sucker for established Byler, even if I can’t find many fics with it. But this is very sweet. It takes place in 2020, but I don’t think there are any mentions of the COVID-19 crisis that I remember.

I Nver Find Out ‘Til I’m Head Over Heels (G, 12.5K) Classic 5+1 fic. If you haven’t read it, where have you been? This is your moment. In where Mike keeps inviting Will to the school dances and Will thinks it’s just a joke until he realizes it’s not. 

Before You’re Gone (T, 5.9k) Will is leaving Hawkins and Mike thinks this is a great moment for a confession. This one I discovered last friday, thank you friend @magicalfairy 💗

You’re weird Wheeler (M, 4.5k) Mike unintentionally starts a tradition of going to each other to talk about their sexual encounters just after they finish. Will keeps getting more explicit with the details he shares, and he makes his best friend interested. This one is really fun y’all.

Out-Of-Town Friends (N/R, 4.6K) It’s not rated. I haven’t re- read it but I’d say it would probably fall in a T rating. So cute!! Will has new friends and sneaks off every friday and the Party doesn’t know where he is going, so Mike decides to follow him and is surprised. 

Snowed Under (G, 1.3k) By the same author of The New Fight series. Mike is spending christmas by himself in college because a snowstorm hits Chicago and Nancy can’t drive to see him, but then he has a surprise visitor. Ahhh just a lil sweet holiday fic. Super cute. 

you love me anyway series (T, 7.1k, three completed works) Literally just the cutest thing ever. Established Byler. Will loves to take pictures and he loves taking pictures of Mike. It’s adorable. 

you wanna be friends forever (i can think of something better) (T, 9k) This one is so amazing. So. Amazing. From Will’s POV, my kid deserves the world and he gets it. 

okay not to be okay (T, 4.9k) Mike is a bit sad but then everything is okay. 

can’t hold out forever (G, 18.4k) Y’all!!!!! 5+1 sweetness. Mike has been falling in love since kindergarten. And it’s long af, you’ll enjoy it. 

even if it takes forever (G, 1.3k) College short AU, they miss each other, they love each other, they promise all to each other. It is sappy y’all.

clear as day (N/R, 18.4K, 4 chapters) It’s not rated, but I’d say it falls in the T category. Strangers to friends to lovers. And also, everyone is pretty gay; we have our dynamic trio Mike, Max and El as disaster lesbians (and gay). Will works at the library and he is also gay. Lucas and Dustin and Will are the best friends we needed. It’s very sweet and the Party is kind of formed here!

I went overboard with the one-shots, so you must have realized how much I love long one-shots and I favor them over long works lmao but they are all amazing!!! If it’s on this list, I probably read it at 2 am, sobbing in my bed. So. Hope you enjoy it☺️🧡

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling,  Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

[hockeylvr59]

Hi. Number 1: taking a rain walk with cale. You can choose the time. Thank you !

So with all the UMass content I've been digging up I decided to take a trip back in time with this one. So we're setting this fall 2018 when Cale was a sophomore at UMass. I'm lowkey in love with this one. Big thanks to @bqstqnbruin for the help with this plot concept. (1,610 words)

~~~~~~~~

Ellie was so going to owe you for this. Dodging beer spilling out of a cup, you pushed your way through the crowded frat house, wincing as the volume of the music somehow got even louder. Your roommate Ellie had made plans to meet a guy here tonight and she’d pleaded with you to come with her in case he didn’t show or things didn’t turn out how she expected. But, as soon as she had spotted him in the crowd upon your arrival, she had disappeared and you hadn’t seen her since. That had been nearly two hours ago. Like a good friend you’d sent her a text twenty minutes or so ago checking in and you had just gotten a reply of a thumbs up and that they had left to go to a diner off-campus.

Of course, they had. A heads-up text would have been nice.

Though you wanted to be mad at her, it was hard to be when you knew how excited she had been for this date. Still, a packed frat house on a Friday night was one of the last places you wanted to spend your time. Trying to weave your way toward the door, you tripped over something and landed smack against a solid chest. A pair of hands quickly reacted, catching you and helping you regain your balance. Quickly you mumbled an apology, though it wasn’t your fault there was a drunk person sleeping on the floor with their leg in the middle of the path.

“No worries, you okay?” A deep voice questioned, causing you to look up. When you did, your eyes met a pair of reddened cheeks that were familiar to anyone on campus who didn’t live under a rock.

Cale Makar.

The hockey team’s superstar defenseman who was back for his second season despite the chance to make the jump to the NHL.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” You stated, snapping out of your daze. “Just need to get out of here.”

Cale’s gaze softened in concern and he quickly worked using his taller frame to clear a path for you until you reached the slightly less crowded front porch. It was still loud outside but at least you didn’t have to scream to hear yourself think. Slowing, you leaned against a railing just trying to catch your breath and rid your senses of some of the stench of cheap alcohol. You didn’t expect him to stay close so when he leaned against the railing beside you, you were slightly surprised.

“Did we have Western Thought together last fall?” He asked after a moment, the question catching you off guard. You thought back to your schedule last year and then bit your lip considering that query.

“Was that Tuesday/Thursday morning, Herter Hall?” Cale must have nodded because he spoke again a moment later, a smile evident in his voice.

“I thought you looked familiar.” He mused, offering out a hand. “Cale.” He greeted, introducing himself officially. Introducing yourself in return, you asked him what he had thought about the ridiculous question that had been on the final for that class. You may not remember much but that question had screwed over half the class and you certainly hadn’t forgotten the stress you’d felt waiting for grades to drop after that exam.

That question sparked an entire conversation and before you knew it, it was almost 1am.

“I should really head back to my dorm.” You admitted a bit reluctantly. “Thanks for the chat and making this party not a total bust for me.” You joked, looking up at the sky which was starting to look like rain.

“What dorm are you in?” Cale asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Grayson.” You replied with a shrug even as Cale’s eyes went a little wide.

“I’ll walk you.” He immediately declared.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” You assured him. Grayson was all the way across campus and you weren’t sure where he was living.

“I’ll walk you,” Cale repeated, signaling that he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “It’s late and you shouldn’t walk across campus by yourself, not with all these idiots around.” The way he phrased his explanation showed that he knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t mean that you should have to.

“Fine. Thank you.” You declared, shooting him a slightly exasperated look. Cale gave you a semi-dimpled smile and motioned for you to lead the way. As you walked toward the admin building and fine arts center you continued chatting about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation came easy and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you were a bit taken at how smart Cale was.

You had reached the western edge of the pond, with the intention of cutting across the northern shore to make your way to your residential area, when a loud boom sounded across the sky out of nowhere. Before you could even react, torrential rain was pelting you both, soaking you to the bone. Quickly, Cale herded you over toward the library and inside. The building was quiet as he guided you up to one of the study floors murmuring that you should wait out some of the heavy rain. Knowing that you really should get home and to bed, you wanted to protest but then a flash of lightning cracked across the sky. Maybe you should wait out the storm a little bit.

Moving into a study room overlooking the pond, you shivered slightly from the air conditioning blowing through the building.

“Come here,” Cale murmured from the spot on the floor where he had settled. For a moment you eyed the chairs but then decided maybe you shouldn’t get them soaked too and the floor was probably a better option. Though you sat with some space between you and Cale, it wasn’t long before he was tugging you closer murmuring that he can’t keep you warm if you’re so far away. With another chill racing up your spine, you shifted to press against him, sighing softly at the warmth he radiated even through wet clothes.

The two of you sat in silence for a while before you heard Cale murmur your name softly.

“Yeah?” You questioned, trying not to yawn.

“Did you know that the architect of this building forgot to account for the weight of the books in his plans and that’s why only every other floor has them?” Cale stated.

“One that was totally random.” You teased softly. “Two, that’s 1000% a myth.”

When you peeked up at Cale, his cheeks were even pinker than before and they matched his lips as he did this little mindless tick you had picked up on already.

“Totally true.” He defends softly, making you giggle slightly.

“It’s not but that’s okay, you aren’t the first person to buy that myth.” You assured him. Though you didn’t notice, Cale’s face fell into a bit of a frown and he murmured under his breath that there goes trying to impress you.

Watching the rain again, you couldn’t help but yawn. Slowly your head drifted down to rest against Cale’s shoulder and you must have dozed off because the next thing you knew, Cale was murmuring your name again, trying to wake you.

“C’mon sleepy. The rain has let up a bit. This is probably our best chance to get you home.” He explained, urging you to sit up before he moved from underneath you and then pulled you up onto your feet.

Leaving the library, you started walking again through the rain, Cale chattering non-stop. You were sure it was his attempt to keep you awake and you appreciated it. At the same time though, his voice was so soothing, you almost wanted to curl right back up against his shoulder and fall asleep while he talked to you.

By the time you finally reached your dorm, it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. With the rain, a normal half-hour walk had taken three times as long. Standing in a sheltered overhang, you turned to thank Cale for making sure you got home safely.

“Definitely the most interesting first date I think I’ve been on,” Cale replied with a tired smile, his eyes still somehow bright. When your brain processed his words, your jaw dropped.

“Date?” You prodded causing Cale to hum and shrug, glancing down at his watch.

“I mean we’ve spent the last three and a half hours together talking and walking through campus. Pretty sure we can call that a date.” He insisted. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach and you ran your fingers through your wet hair. Cale was calling this a date. That was...wow.

“A date huh…” You finally breathed. “Guess that means I better get a good night kiss. Though technically it’s definitely early morning now.” Cale’s fingers slid around your waist to press against your lower back gently as he crowded closer into your space and after a moment of his eyes searching yours, he leaned down for a kiss, his lips pressing against yours chastely but firmly.

One kiss turned into two and then three before your yawning caused Cale to pull away. After asking for your number so he could take you on a non-rain date, he kissed your cheek and murmured for you to go take a warm shower, put on dry clothes, and then get some sleep.

Your lips still tingled slightly as you climbed into bed and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were the one that was going to have to owe Ellie.

[yersina]

okay, hear me out: blacksmith!jaskier.

like, maybe he’s the owner of his own shop (smithy? forge?), maybe he’s apprenticed to someone else—either way, he works in a little town, proooobably somewhere close to kaer morhen?

(sina, you may be saying that this point, jaskier loves to travel! he likes to see new things and meet new people and cause trouble! how could he stand to stay in one place his whole life? not a problem! shopkeepers aren’t confined to their shops, are they? especially if he’s an apprentice. i propose that he takes semi-annual journeys to travel to more far away towns and sell his wares there and maybe chase a few skirts while he’s at it)

so anyway, blacksmith!jaskier. he’s actually more of a jeweler sort of person—he likes beauty, likes art, and while he can see and appreciate the skill it takes to create a sword or a kitchen knife, he doesn’t really find his calling in creating chamberpots. but alas, see: small town, so this is the best place for something approaching an apprenticeship that he can find.

one day, he’s minding his own business in the back of the shop (smithy??), re-sharpening a knife for a nice old lady who dropped it off a day or so ago, when the master blacksmith storms in and gestures for him to get out. jaskier has long since learned that the master blacksmith is a man of few words, so he troops out to the front with no small amount of exasperation and confusion.

and lo and behold, there stands a witcher in his entrance.

“fix it,” he grunts (bc jaskier is, of course, cursed to work only around people who can’t be bothered to string together more than five syllables at once) and drops the literally shattered remains of a sword on the counter.

jaskier stares. dented swords, he’s seen. they’re close enough to a big city that they’ve occasionally gotten the odd knight looking for a cheaper alternative to city-internal smithies. but shattered? and in so many pieces? “i’d really just advise you buy a new sword at this point, good sir,” jaskier says slowly. “i could use this as scrap metal and make you a new one, but it won’t be the same sword.”

the witcher grunts. jaskier waits expectantly for any more input, but only several seconds of silence follow. “great,” jaskier chirps, injecting as much false cheer into his voice as he can. “i’ll just... take that as a yes.”

so he gets the witcher a new sword (a softer alloy this time, and one that hopefully won’t shatter at low temperatures like this one did), deducts the price of the scrap metal from the asking price of the sword, and sees the witcher on his merry (sullen, silent) way.

except the witcher keeps coming back.

jaskier has no idea why—it’s not like they offer services that any other smithy doesnt. all he does is sell the witcher (geralt of rivia, he eventually learns from town gossip) swords, the witcher grunts through jaskier’s admittedly meaningless chatter, and then he leaves. occasionally, he shows up twice in one month (once before a hunt to get his sword repaired, and then once after for the same), and then he leaves.

it’s utterly baffling.

but then theodore moore, the cheapskate bandit who passes through twice a year in order to spend all of his illegitimate money, drowns in the river while he’s stumbling through the forest drunk.

and then people start disappearing.

it takes until the little girl from down the road disappears while she’s picking flowers in the forest for the townspeople to seriously consider the idea of hunkering down and waiting for someone to take care of the problem. jaskier even rides to the nearby city and posts a request for help. maybe geralt will see it.

they spend half a year avoiding the river like the plague, but then people start disappearing from the town square—next to the fountain. then there’s talk of killing the beast themselves, but none of them know what it’s weak to.

when geralt shows up in the smithy one afternoon, white hair brown with dirt and skin smeared with mud, jaskier nearly cries. “thank god you’re here,” he says, and he’d laugh at geralt’s look of confusion if it weren’t for the circumstances. “we have a job for you.”

if he’d thought geralt was a wall to talk to before, it’s nothing when compared to how quickly geralt stiffens and closes off. jaskier didn’t even know that geralt had been slowly relaxing around him until right then, and a pang of regret echoes through him. “what is it,” he says flatly.

“a man drowned in the river last year,” jaskier explains. “and now six people are dead.” when geralt turns around without another word, jaskier has to scramble around the counter and tug him back. “wait, you can’t just leave—people are dying.”

geralt stares at him, unimpressed. “do you want me to kill it from in here?”

oh. jaskier laughs weakly. “of course, how could i have doubted you, master witcher.”

geralt turns to leave again and actually looks a bit annoyed when jaskier holds him fast. “what is it now?”

“i’m coming with you,” jaskier says firmly.

at least geralt doesn’t laugh in his face. “no.”

“look,” jaskier begins, and swears that he sees geralt roll his eyes. “i’m not—trained in combat, per se, but i can strike a few blows. i work with swords for a living! i can be backup?”

“this isn’t a game.” the furrow between geralt’s eyebrows grows the slightest bit deeper, like the world’s tiniest frown. “you could die.”

“i’ll keep out of the way,” jaskier throws in cajolingly. he’s not sure why he’s fighting so hard to join in on an expedition that will very likely lead to his death, but now that he’s started, he may as well go all in.

geralt just grunts and pulls his arm out of jaskier’s grasp, but he doesn’t do anything to stop jaskier when he grabs a sword and a scabbard and follows on his heels.

(this is where geralt wows jaskier with his fancy silver sword, and jaskier hardly needs to do anything other than gape on the sidelines as geralt dispatches theodore moore—a drowner now, he reminds himself—with brutal efficiency)

jaskier ends up arguing for higher pay for geralt bc of course he does, and manages to get geralt to sit down for a pint of ale in the tavern. jaskier travels but he doesn’t travel, and although geralt isn’t the best conversationalist, he does have some tales.

this ends with jaskier puzzling his way around making a silver sword and maybe getting a mage to imbue it with some magical runes or whatever it is that they do in their ivory towers, and he presents it to geralt the next time he comes by. geralt, being geralt, doesn’t do much else than take it with him while he’s leaving, but jaskier sees it strapped to his back the next time he stops by in the town, and geralt actually asks him to repair it at some point (!!) which is not smth that he’s ever done before.

geralt also starts bringing jaskier things which jaskier is utterly delighted by because it means that geralt has been paying attention while jaskier rambles at him the few times that they manage to sit down in the tavern together. this continues on for years and years and jaskier steadily grows fonder and fonder until he has a Realization one day when he’s looking at a sunflower and thinking abt how it matches the color of geralt’s eyes that goddamn he’s in love with a witcher.

(my Actual Prose runs out here but i’m envisioning jaskier putting those jeweler skills to use in fashioning geralt useful but also pretty pieces of jewelry as courting gifts until one day jaskier is just like “god you’re so fucking dumb” and just kisses him happily ever after the end)

[tropicalchiaa]

Him Pt.2

Maurizio Gucci x reader

Next day’s consequences

Umm, thank you for all the love on the last post. I truly appreciate it so much! Like if I could, I would kiss all of y'all. 

I hope you enjoy this next part, it is kinda long but I think it is necessary for the plot ahahaa.

Enjoy and please leave feedback! I will love to hear it❤️

Pt 1:  https://tropicalchiaa.tumblr.com/post/645454455448469504/him-maurizio-gucci-x-reader-your-little-getaway-is

You were awoken by a banging on your door and in your head. Shooting straight up you instantly regret that action. Why the hell did you feel this way? Then you remember back to the events after you had gotten into the elevator.

Finding some solace in the fact that you were away from Maurizio, you then begin to panic if he was on the same floor as you. Knowing that his wife was probably ripping him a new one you walk to your door with a little more confidence, still cautiously looking around as if he was going to jump out of thin air. 

Once in the safety of your room you truly relax your shoulders and recount the events that ensued prior. “ I didn't just kiss anyone, I kissed Maurizio Gucci, the man known for scorching the earth after he passes through.” You whispered to yourself. 

Trying to calm yourself with breathing exercise your heart rate shoots up as you hear a knock on your door. “NO, go away!” You scream at the door. A soft gentle voice from the other side of the door comes back “Ummm, Miss “L/N” it is room service with your bottle of wine.” “Oh, shoot! I’m so sorry!” You say as you scramble towards the door cursing at yourself.

         As you open the door, you give an apologetic look as you say “I’m so sorry about that, I thought you were someone else.” Shifting awkwardly to the side as he brings in your wine. You then reach for a hefty tip in hopes to dissipate the awkwardness. With one final apology, you close the door sliding down it with the utmost embarrassment.

Here you are acting like a pubescent teen who is avoiding a boy who likes her, “Get a grip “Y/N”! ” Walking toward the wine cart you opt to drink from the bottle to dull the thoughts. 

This brings you back to the present hour of you sitting in your dress from dinner with your smeared makeup on your face wishing you could melt into your bed. Your close friend then says “ “Y/N”, what is going on? You were supposed to meet us downstairs 10 minutes ago. We all know how you are a stickler for promptness! Miss “Colored People Time is Just An Excuse to Be Late” ” Slight amusement in her voice as she playfully chastises you. 

You then groan, reluctantly removing yourself from your safe haven. Barely stumbling to the door you shock her with your appearance. “WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU!” She screams while you cower at the volume of her voice. Pulling her in with the little strength you had, covering her mouth to prompt her to shut up. “Please, I am dying” you can barely whisper. 

         In a quiet voice, she said,  “Honey, what has happened to you? You look like you have been wrecked.” A big grin appearing on her face, “Wait, did you get wrecked last night?” playfully wiggling her eyebrows. “No” you hoarsely let out trying to find water and aspirin like it was your lifeline. “Then what is it? I haven’t seen you like this since New Years' after you broke up with that bastard Marcus.” “IkissedMaurizio” You spit out rushed, trying to remove your dress. 

         “WHAT!” she says, spinning you around with so much force you swore the earth was shaking. “ Well I didn’t really kiss him, he kissed me…” Walking to the bathroom to try and meet your team for the tail end of breakfast. Storming in after you she says, “ Although a huge bomb, it doesn’t explain why you look like you survived a zombie apocalypse.” Prying for more detail, you relinquish the details of your night since you had left them at the table. 

 Letting out a strangled sigh, you proceeded to get out of the shower feeling slightly better. You look up to your friend sitting on the toilet processing the information and her emotions. You look at her sheepishly readying yourself for whatever will be coming out of her mouth. “How are you feeling truly?”  she asks, expressing true concern. You smile, this is why she is one of your closest friends, “Honestly, I have contemplated so many times leaving this trip early but we need this! And I'll be damned if I let a white man ruin my joy.” to which you both laughed.

         You go about getting ready for the day, discussing game plans to avoid Maurizio and the clan. You finally make it to breakfast in time to grab a few items to placate your hangover. With casual inquisition, you find out that Maurizio has already hit the slopes for the day allowing you to relax.

         Boy were you so glad that you didn't leave this trip early, this is one of the most relaxing and fun times you have had since the start of the business. You are having such a good time on the slopes that you actually forget about the wretched man. 

That was until after lunch you decided you needed some spa time to truly unwind. Booking a private room for a soak and massage, you leave your team to enjoy whatever else they want to do. 

Walking with confidence you make it to the spa area unscathed and ready to feel the tension leave your body. Stripping and putting your clothes in the lockers you head over to the spa pool to unwind. Despite just getting this sew-in you needed some relief. Sinking in naked as the day you were born you close your eyes and let out an audible moan.

“Wow, I would love to hear that every day.” You snap your eyes open hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was. “ Hi Princess, did you miss me?” A naked smiling Maurizio says as he is getting in right next to you. You try to scramble to hide yourself but to no avail, there was nothing you could do but stay stuck in shock. “You don’t look like you are very happy to see me, especially after that special kiss we shared last night.” He says with a playful frown. You turn to try and get out but are stopped by a strong grip pulling you into their unclothed lap.

“Maurizio, like I told you last night that this will never happen.” Still struggling to release yourself. “ Oh princess, you know you want me as badly as I want you. Just give in and enjoy this while we can.” Kissing you as he moved your legs to straddle him. As bad as you know this is, you revel in the feeling of his hardness pressing against your cunt. 

“Maurizio” you breathy moan out. “ What if someone walks in or worse your wife?” you question melting at his touch. “She is shopping in town and I paid the workers for some privacy,” he said as he nips at your sweet spot on your neck and slowly grinds his hips. Clouded by lust you begin to enjoy yourself, ignoring all caution. 

         “Princess, let me taste you,” he says as he lifts your body out of the water. Suddenly feeling exposed you try to cover yourself in an attempt to reserve some self-respect and modesty. Seeing this Maurizio laughs pulling your hands down, “Don’t cover yourself princess, you are truly a work of art.” Slowly trailing down your body spending extra time in the valley of your breast and hips. For such a self-absorbed asshole he truly was a giver.

         While the anticipation was killing you, you were nowhere near ready for the feeling of his plump lips against your cunt. Making you writhe with pleasure until you came solely on his mouth alone. You could help but let out exhaustively “ Damn white boy, you really know what you are doing.” You then squealed as you were pulled closer. Maurizio chuckled as he pumped his cock getting ready to dip into your honey pot. 

Then getting close he whispers in your ear “ I hope your cunt feels as good as it tastes.” And without warning he rams into, forcing you to take all of him and effectively knocking the breath out of you. You moan his name so loudly, you are sure the people on the slopes can hear you. He continues pumping his length in you occasionally taking it out to smack your clit and ram it back into you. 

As you are both about to reach your highs he gets more animalistic with his rhythm, making water splash all around you. When you feel the build-up about to overflow he begs for you to hold out just a little longer. Finally, at the count of three you both reach your euphoric highs, feeling as if you are melting into each other.

Breathing heavily, you appreciated the clean-up the pool was doing to the evidence of your sins. You refused to look at him, as your after climax shame rolled in but he grabbed your chin slowly turning you to face him. “Princess, I hope you do not think you will be getting rid of me after that.” Smiling as he kisses you tenderly. 

“We can’t...” you say in a small whisper on the verge of tears, “ I deserve much more than to be a secret slut to a white man for fuck sakes. Please, let this be the first and last time.” Pleading with him. He shook his head, “I want you, I want you more than a side fling. I do not care about anything other than making you mine and from here on out that will be my mission. Whether you are on board or not because face it, you want me just as bad.” Concluding his confession with a passionate kiss. 

Feeling defeated you lay your head on his chest, a small part hoping that he was being truthful. He wraps his arms around you, lining his cock with your entrance. You proceed to have a slow and sensual round where he praises your existence and whispers how lucky he is to be in this position. Together you passionately reach your highs.

Realizing how much time has passed by the pruning of your fingers, you decided to head to the lockers. It would be heartwarming the way he held you close if he wasn’t married with kids and the enemy. Putting back on your clothes, it seemed you guys couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Finally fully dressed you guys shared one make-out session before watching him walk out the doors but not without mouthing “See you later princess.” sent with a kiss. 

You did miss your massage but as you walked back to your room to rest before dinner you had a glow to you. Enjoying your state of bliss you ignoring that you had slept with a married man and fell into a nap thinking about the wickedly handsome Maurizio Gucci.

Yes, we caved but there is still hope for redemption 😂

Pt 3

Pt 4

Pt 5

Hope you enjoyed and please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list!

Tag list:

@maybe-your-left​

[jasmariswonderland]

“Remember to Breathe” ~ Danica’s Dorm Uniform Vignette (3/3)

“I’ll continue to strive to be someone worthy of this Pomefiore uniform!” 

(A/N: The song Danica is singing is “One Last Time” by Ariana Grande, a literary choice that may or may not be foreshadowing future events in her story...)

~~~

~ Pomefiore Dorm - Danica’s Room ~ 

-Day of The Performance-

*Door opens and Taima walks in wearing her dorm uniform*

Taima: Heeeyyyy, Dani-chan! Your dorm leader asked me to come here and check on you! 

Danica: Thanks, I definitely need it! Where’s Sidonie-san?

Taima: She’s out there chatting with Heartslabyul’s vice dorm leader, but she said she’d come here soon. *smiling* So! Your time to shine is drawing near! How are you feeling?

Danica: In an odd way, my anxiety seemed to decrease as the days passed. *exhales* And now, I’d almost say that I can actually do this! 

Taima: You CAN do this! Remember what we were always saying back in middle school? You got this! I know you do and, deep down, so do you! We’re gonna take the cultural festival by storm, just you wait! 

Danica: Ohhh? *giggling* You’re so sure Vil-san will allow me to let you on the team? 

Taima: *slyly* Of course! Just tell him it’s non-negotiable! After today, I’m sure he’ll make a few concessions!

Danica: You don’t know him like I do but I always appreciate your positivity, Tai-chan. 

Taima: *grinning* Glad to be of help! Welp, let’s head out, shall we? Your audience awaits! 

*Door opens*

Sidonie: Not so fast! Special delivery for you, Danica! 

Danica: What? For me? Who’s it from?

Sidonie: I’m not sure, the only note attached is one saying to give this to you before you go to the ballroom. 

Danica: A package with no return address? Hmmm…

*She opens it and gasps, Taima and Sidonie gasp too, inside is the silk ribbon/rose headpiece that she wears in her dorm uniform art*

Taima: Wow, what a pretty hair accessory!

Sidonie: It’s beautifully crafted. And look at the ribbons, set them against your Pomefiore robe, the color is a perfect match! 

Taima: The rose too, is it…it is! It’s the same material as the lining of your uniform! 

Danica: It’s gorgeous, but there’s no indication of who sent it? 

Sidonie: As I said, there was no name on the package. And I don’t recognize the handwriting on the note as belonging to anyone in this dorm. 

Taima: Hehe, you haven’t even taken the stage yet, Dani, and you already have an admirer! A secret admirer at that! 

Sidonie: It certainly seems that way, here, let me arrange it in your hair, on the off chance your admirer is among the audience today. 

(A/N: Her sprite appears as such from this point onward)

Sidonie: There, lovely. It really makes you in your dorm uniform shine all the more! 

Taima: Yeah, it brings your whole look together! 

Danica:...

Taima and Sidonie: …

Danica: Yes! I think so too! Whoever sent this, must know my tastes!

Sidonie: So, my dear, do you think you’re ready now, for your grand debut? 

Danica: Ready as I’ll ever be! 

Taima: Great! We’re gonna head to the ballroom, see ya soon!

Sidonie: And don’t forget, keep breathing! Remember to breathe, and everything will be alright!

~~~

(Sound of chattering) 

Danica: (Vil told me to wait for his cue before coming in. Wow, there are a lot more people here than I thought. But I’m not gonna think about it.) 

*Vil turns in her direction and nods*

Danica: …! (It’s time, okay! Inhale, exhale, I can do this!)

*Music starts* 

Danica: *with her eyes closed* (Remember what you practiced, keep breathing. You got this, Dani!) …And I know and I know and I know that you’ve got everything but I got nothing here without you…

Danica: (Okay, so far, so good, but I should probably move around some, not be so still.) *opens her eyes and sees everyone watching her in awe, she smiles* So one last time, I need to be the one who takes you home. One more time, I promise after that, I’ll let you go…(They seem to be enjoying it! Yeah, I CAN do this!) 

(A/N: I’ll likely not draw it since I suck at perspective but the groovy art in my mind is of Danica performing in the ballroom, looking fully confident and completely unlike her usual self)

Danica: (My heart is racing in the best way, it’s been so long, I’d forgotten how much I love this!) 

Sidonie: *murmuring* My goodness, where did that timid freshman go? She’s transformed into a completely different person! 

Rook: She is magnificent! And she moves so gracefully. This pales in comparison to the videos! 

Sidonie: I…think I understand now, why Vil wanted her to do this. 

Cater: It’s like watching a professional pop idol! This vid is gonna blow up! 

Taima: Now there’s the Dani I know! 

~~~

*Timeskip* 

~ Pomefiore Dorm - Danica’s Room ~ 

Vil: Well done, an adequate performance. 

Rook: Tres spectaculaire, notre chere Madmoiselle Chanteuse! The muses have blessed you incredibly! 

Danica: Thank you,Vil-san, Rook-san, I’m glad to have been able to meet your expectations. What did you think, Sidonie-san?

Sidonie: You sing so passionately, the way you put your heart into every note, it gave me goosebumps. And to think, you initially agreed to only sing one song, but you ended up singing three! 

Danica: I can’t explain it, but once I began, all my fears seemed to melt away. All I could think about was performing to the best of my ability. But I’m glad there was extra audio available. Vil-san, how did you know to prepare extra? 

Vil: *smiling* I always wish to be prepared for every possibility. Something told me you would want to sing more, and in the end, I was right. And now, I’m sure you now know what this means. 

Danica: I understand! The cultural festival might be a few months away, but I promise I’ll give it my all! 

Vil: In the meantime, continue giving your all in everything you do, Little Potato. Brilliance doesn’t come overnight, it takes perseverance. 

Danica: *looking slightly weary* Yes, I…I understand.

Vil: Do you? In that case, I never again want to see you have doubts about something I know you’re capable of. Strive to be someone worthy of wearing that Pomefiore uniform. 

Danica: I will! I promise! 

Vil: Good, now one last thing, Cater informed me that the video of today’s concert is already going viral. He said he’ll give it to you on Monday if you promise to join the light music club. Also…what the? 

(Danica has dozed off on her bed)

Vil: SHE FELL ASLEEP?! 

Sidonie: *chuckling* Poor thing, this past week has left her so stressed, first about her evaluation and then about today’s show. 

Rook: Ahh, some much-needed rest will do her a world of good then. 

Vil: Wake her up! She’ll get her robe wrinkled and I wasn’t finished…

Sidonie: Please, Vil-san. Just this once. I think you owe her that much. 

Vil: I can’t allow her to sleep in her uniform! It’ll set a bad precedent…

Sidonie: Who else is gonna know?

Vil: …

Sidonie: Or perhaps, after I wake her, I should tell her how you had already decided to…

Vil: Fine! I’ll concede this one time, but she will be hearing about this! 

-END-

[msoogabooga]

Wasting Away (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Chp. I - A Sworn Enemy

Warnings- None

Word Count- 2146

Summary- You have singlehandedly decided that Tom Riddle is to be your sworn enemy until the end of time.

A/N- Hello! This is my first chaptered Tom Riddle fic. Hope you enjoy and tune in for more!

•••

Tom Riddle was the loneliest boy that had ever existed. You were certain of it whenever you witnessed him walk alone in the corridors or when he picked at his food in the great hall while everyone around him chattered amongst themselves, leaving him be. Ever so often you take a glance at his parchment paper in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he sits next to you, and you catch him writing lines of beauty. Words that flow together and create great works of art. That is until he catches you staring and covers his paper with his arm, not before cursing under his breath at you of course.

Oh yes, though you felt a sense of pity for the lonely boy, you swore to hate him until the day he died. It wasn’t always this way, of course. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to hate an innocent peer. In fact, you even thought to befriend him of course. The unforgivable day happened outside on the castle grounds. It had been raining quite heavily that day. You ran through the downpour of the storm as your house scarf floated behind you and your mary janes began to stain from the wet dirt. You had finally reached the shelter of an arched corridor and began drying yourself with your scarf. A sudden clatter startled you as you turned your head towards the direction of the noise. The black-haired Slytherin boy was crouched on the ground picking up a bundle of textbooks and parchment papers he had dropped. He began to grow more frustrated when he realized they had become soaked from the seeping rainwater that came through the window. With a pitiful frown, you rushed over to help him.

“Better the books than yourself,” You said with a smile, acknowledging your rained-out state as you began to pick up pieces of parchment. “The storm came so suddenly. I hardly had any time to rush to safety and, well, this happened. I was playing Quidditch you see. It was a bit cloudy, sure, but not even the greatest prophecies could’ve predicted this storm. You’re quite lucky, though. You don’t seem to have a drop on you, except on your schoolwork of course.” Tom Riddle snatches the parchment from your hands so fast that it leaves you with a papercut on your hand. You wince and take your hand back before shooting him a glare.

“Do you mock me?” He spat.

“I was just trying to help,” you explained with a grumble in your voice. “You didn’t have to be so harsh.”

“What makes you think you are allowed to talk to me?” Tom picks up the rest of his items and stands up. You stood up right after.

“Well excuse me all high and mighty. I didn’t know I needed to sign a prerequisite form before daring to stand in your presence. As I said, I was just trying to be of some assistance.”

“I never asked for any assistance. You’re making me seem pitiful.”

“Or maybe, get this, I was just trying to be nice!”

Tom scoffs. “Nice? Yeah, alright.” He makes a sharp turn and begins walking in the opposite direction of yours.

“What is wrong with you?” You shout. “I don’t even know who you are!”

Tom stops. He began walking towards you once more. You take a step back, unsure of what caused him to turn around. “Of course you don’t. I don’t expect you to. But I know everything I need to know about you. You’re the type of person to befriend a lonely kid because you feel it’s your moral obligation. Because you think that this will help boost your popularity points. Don’t think I don’t see right through you. I see the way your friends whisper and giggle at me in the corridors. You may not think I hear it but I do. So if you think you’re going to make a fool out of me for your own benefit then you’re clearly mistaken. So you can go back to your friends and tell them all about our interaction because I know you will. Now, goodbye.”

He walked away before you even had a chance to respond. You wanted to clarify. To say that you don’t approve of your friends gossiping. That you genuinely meant to help him out. But your saltiness took over and you only replied with, “AT LEAST I HAVE FRIENDS.”

You were unsure if he heard you or not because he had already disappeared from view. But you were satisfied. You knew who he was, obviously. That part was a lie. Tom Riddle was quite infamous for his knowledge in Defense Against the Dark Arts and is an acclaimed member of the Slug Club as well as yourself. You had even made eye contact with him a few times while you had dinner with Slughorn and the rest of the Slug Club. But you never expected this innocently kind looking boy to be so cruel at your act of kindness. You didn’t know much about him but you did know one thing: Tom Riddle was now your sworn enemy.

This is made extremely evident at his increasing side glare while you two sit together in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not by choice, of course. Assigned seating was never more painful than this moment right here. Still, the most you can do is glare back while everyone silently reads. You open your textbook as a way to distract yourself and flip to the unit you are currently on. Iguanas, iguanas, iguanas. Though you are puzzled as to how they were linked to dark magic, you took down notes anyway. You follow the pattern of dipping your quill in ink and writing line after line. All while you feel the hot glare of Tom’s eyes on the back of your neck. The bell signifying the end of class rings and you take a sigh of relief. Enthusiastically to get out of there, you begin gathering your materials, scooping your textbook in your arms all at once. Tom clears his throat quite obnoxiously enough to gain your attention.

“You miswrote something.” Tom states. You shoot him a dazzled look. “In your notes. I couldn’t help but look at your sorry excuse for parchment paper. It just reeked of misinformation. Sure enough, you wrote down that iguanas were omnivores when they are in fact herbivores.”

“Since when do you care so much about iguanas?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him. “And why do you even care about what I write in the first place?”

“Well, one, I don’t. And two, I would just rather not be sitting next to the girl who got low marks on the iguanas exam. It would be quite embarrassing to witness.”

“Oh go suck an egg,” You retaliate. Tom Riddle scoffs and leaves without responding to your comment and your best friend, Wendy Slinkhard, replaces him.

You had met Wendy in the Slug Club. She was top of the Ravenclaw class, earning high marks that introduced her into the Slughorn's group. The first thing you noticed about her was the way her doe-eyes lit up every time someone mentioned writing. It was all she ever talked about. Her grand aspiration to become a famous author in the wizarding world. She had quite a euphonious voice when describing her life, casually mentioning the fact that she is indeed muggleborn and unafraid of any criticism. How her entire family is made up of writers and she is thrilled to follow the legacy. She had the most elegant way of describing things you had ever seen, almost like works of poetry roll off her tongue. When you ask how she comes up with these unique words she just responds with, The wizarding world seems to give a great muse to the imagination. Whatever that means, you are unsure, but it seems important enough.

“Well hello there,” Wendy says in her wispy voice. “Seems you have quite a charmer for a partner.” She looks over to Tom Riddle who has just left the room.

“Right.” You reply, getting ready to leave alongside Wendy. “It’s like nails on a chalkboard every time he speaks. I’m telling you, Wendy. You couldn’t bear sitting next to him for an hour.”

“Oh, I am sure of it. I’m not sure if I feel too keen about my partner as well. He is, to put it shortly, not quite attentive. Constantly asking me for notes or an extra quill, it’s quite annoying really! But overall, nothing compared to who you have to deal with. Tom Riddle. I always knew there was something off about that lad. Merlin knows why Professor Slughorn chose him of all pupils for the Slug Club.”

“Well he is exceptional at the Dark Arts, I’ll give him that. He has such a crude way of showing it as well. Constantly showing me up. Making me seem as inferior in knowledge as opposed to himself. A real nightmare.”

“Well, if it means anything to you, nothing good can ever come from being exceptional at the Dark Arts.” Wendy gives a slim smile and nods.

You and Wendy walk alongside each other on your way to your next class. Coincidentally, both of your classes are right next to each other. Though you really do miss having her in the same class. You speak to no one in History of Magic. You just sit alone with your face in your hands, hearing your professor go on and on about some troll war you don’t care too much about. Your quill picks up every once in a while to jot down scribbles of information. Something, something... Troll War. Not the most exciting subject if you were to be honest. But it sure beats suffering another hour with Tom Riddle constantly pointing out every minor flaw in your notes. Something about your professor’s voice sends you into a bit of a drowsy state. The way his words flowed so slowly and sterile. Slowly bringing you closer and closer into a…

“Wow. You look bloody awful.” You jolt awake at the sound of Dahlia Ferdinand looking down on you. She is dressed in her Hufflepuff Quidditch jumper and stands with arms crossed and a smirk spread across her face. You lift your head from the desk and detach a piece of parchment that had stuck on your face.

“How long has class been over?” You ask groggily.

“For about an hour, give or take.”

“She’s joking!” Wendy calls out, running into the room and standing beside Dahlia. She adjusts her giant red glasses and flattens her skirt. “Only a few minutes. No need to be so childish, Dahlia.”

“Oh come on. You never appreciate any of my jokes.”

“Dahlia, you know I hate your immature remarks. They are plain and unfunny.”

Dahlia rolls her eyes. “You must be real fun at parties.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been invited to one.”

“Don’t worry. We can tell.”

You let out a snicker before covering it up with a cough. Wendy, seeing right through you, shoots you a glare before adjusting her glasses once more.

“Speaking of parties…” Dahlia continues, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a green envelope. “Marcella Rosier invited me to the Slytherin common room party tomorrow night. From what I gather it’s going to be a grand event. Her uncle supposedly is bringing in firewhisky from Hog’s Head. Naturally, I expect you two to come with me.”

“Firewhisky, Dahlia?!” Wendy interjects before you can respond. “You know that is very much against the school rules. Not only that but against the law as well. And don’t even get me started on the policy of dorm-hopping in the middle of the night. I don’t even trust that Rosier girl to begin with. I’ve heard a load of terrible things involving her. Why are you even friends with such a person?”

“You know, Wendy, you sound like nails on a chalkboard sometimes. A simple no could do. What about you?” Dahlia responds, now addresses you.

“Oh,” You say suddenly. “Well if you’re going then I guess I’ll go as well.”

“So will I,” Wendy adds on, much to both you and Dahlia’s surprise. “Only to drag Dahlia out and scold her when she gets carried away with the firewhisky which I know she will.”

Wendy and Dahlia glare at each other and you cough. “I promise you, Wendy, that I will keep Dahlia outside range of the firewhisky.”

Wendy nods, satisfied. The three of you go your separate ways. You head straight to your dormitory, ignoring all work assigned for this weekend and your rude encounters with Tom Riddle. You raid your closet and begin the hunt for an acceptable outfit to wear to the biggest party of the semester.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothred Ch. 2 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 2: Bonding

Summary: You’re slowly accomodating to living in your new household, but getting close to your partner is harder than expected.

Warnings: Self doubts, maybe.

Words: ~1600

Song used: Rise Against - Hero of War

Story Masterlist

The following weeks were uneventful, considering that you weren’t allowed to leave the Zoldyck property at all.

Since you were now considered a Zoldyck, a great deal of people would now see you as their target. An easy one too, because you weren’t even half as strong as the rest of the family.

Some would even go as far as to say you’re now Illumi’s weak spot - even though your husband was confident in his ability to protect you.

Anyway, you would need to spend your days on Kukuroo Mountain until the head of the family evaluated you to be strong enough to defend yourself even without Illumi at your side. Only then you’d be allowed to go on missions again.

Even though you had all comforts one could wish for, it was pretty boring in here with no one around except for this unsettling distanced family members. Most of the time they’d just mind their own business unless it’s about work.

There was also the crippling feeling of uselessness plagueing your mind. You tried to compensate for it through your efforts, though.

You and Illumi were living in the main residence, of course, yet had a wing completely build solely for the two of you. It was just like a small but luxury apartement, with a great bathroom, kitchen and whatever else one would need.

Especially the balconry was to your liking. You prefered to spend your time there, simply enjoying the sounds of nature.

It was a day like all the ones before, with you trying to pass time through educating yourself. Might be useful somehow.

You immediately heared a crack of the main door, jumping up from your seat to greet him.

Illumi had been away on a mission for three weeks already, and you just couldn’t wait to see him again. You stopped yourself in front of him, knowing close physical contact was discomforting to the man.

“Welcome home, master.” Just as you were about to take a bow, Illumi brought his hand to your chin and lifted it once again.

“No need to be so formal” he spoke, and you had to admit that the stoic sound of his voice had somehow become calming to you. “I’m your husband now. Just call me like you did before.”

“I missed you, Lumi.” You had just realized it yourself, yet had already blurted it out aloud. How embarassing...

“Oh? That’s good, I think.” He tapped his chin like he’d always do to muse aloud, trying to cover up that this much affection overstepped the limits of his emotional capability.

Trying to change the topic, you just now remembered the heavy storm that was raging outside. “You’re dripping wet!”

“So?” He tilted his head in confusion, still standing at the entrance as you wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

Hunger, cold, sleep deprivation, pain...

Even though none of these could hinder him from functioning, you assumed the feeling was still bothersome. The cold could still affect him that way.

For a second, you had to laugh at yourself. Worried, about him of all people? Ridiculous.

“Take your clothes off” you demanded, a warning finger swirling in the air. “I’ll run you a bath.”

In his free time, Illumi seemed even more like an empty shell. You could say he was pretty boring, even.

But it was fun to teach him all kinds of new stuff - things he was never able to experience or enjoy. Could he even feel something like that?

Since Illumi was raised to be absent of any hopes or desires, he obviously didn’t follow any hobbies either. Except for work, training and the well-being of his family, nothing seemed to be of real importance for him.

So he’d simply shrug it off, following your orders since he had nothing better to do anyway. “As you wish.”

When your husband stepped into the bathroom you had prepared for him, the air was scented with a floral fragrance. You even had lighted a few candles, enveloping the room in a dim light.

It was hard not to stare at the slender man, but you peeked a time or two: His porcellain skin was covered in several scars, and he was more muscular than you had imagined.

In an unconventionalway, he looked like a piece of art.

“Come on in!” you cheered, gesturing towards the perfectly warm water. As he sunk down into the tub, you chuckled at how stiffly he was sitting inside. “Lean backwards, like this!”

You adjusted yourself on a chair next to the bathtub, beginning to gently wash his hair. “Close your eyes” you cooed, gently massaging his neck before running your fingers along his shoulders.

And after a while, his rigid body slowly began to relax - a small feeling of achievement blooming in your chest.

Picking up a comb from the edge of the sink, you began to run it through his silky hair. It almost made you fuming again about how he once wanted to cut it off, because it was ‘a hindrance in battle’.

Yet you couldn’t help it, for the calming atmosphere made you start singing out of a whim:

“A hero of war Is that what they see Just medals and scars So damn proud of me And I brought home that flag Now it gathers dust But it's a flag that I love It's the only flag I trust”

Illumi’s eyes opened slowly, dark orbs pinning you as you detected some kind of wonder in them. “Y/N?”

“Y-Yes?!” The closeness you had craved so bad had you forget about who exactly you were trying to indulge.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” Now where did that question come from?!

"Huh? I- umm...” You began to stammer, frantically scanning your mind for an answer. “Because I like you, I guess.”

You didn’t dare to say love - not yet at least. Maybe someday...

“Mhh. I see.” Illumi turned his head away and closed his eyes again, almost as if zoning out. “I knew you were clinging to unnecessary sentiments, but I didn’t think they’d go this far.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? You didn’t know, but somehow felt offended.

"And why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?”

You just couldn’t help but pitying yourself right now. Of course you were sparring as much as your body could handle, yet at the moment all you could provide for your husband were kind gifts and actions.

“I thought I already made myself clear: You’re an extraordinary individual, and I thought you to be a fitting mate.”

Wow.

“You must be tired” you murmured as you softly rubbed his temples, trying to change the topic.

How stupid of you to think he was actually capable of feeling such a complex emotion - and yet you were disappointed.

“How odd” Illumi suddenly vocalized his cogitation, then falling silent again.

“What is it?” you inquired as you patiently encoated his hair with a towel.

“How very odd” he repeated once again, seemingly overchallenged.

No use in talking this over, huh...

“Let’s get you to bed” you chanted, still all friendly and he wondered why you’d bother yourself with things he could easily do himself.

Truth be spoken: Illumi Zoldyck would most likely forget to eat or clean himself way longer than necessary. Taking basic care for himself was just not present in his mind, and more than often he’d do it pretty sloppy just to get it over with quick.

Wrapping the heavy blanket over yourself, Illumi’s stiff posture was a huge contrast to the soft bed. Only looking at him made you uncomfortable.

And yet: Sharing this bed together, you were glad that he gave you the freedom to decide when you were ready to, well...take the next step.

There was no need to hurry, he once told you. Since you were now all his.

Even in the dark you could spot the emotionless black pit that was his orbs. But you saw something different: You liked to imagine the universe in them, and the brightw stars to be only hidden from plain sight.

“How do you feel?” you spoke softly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time anyway.

“Indifferent.”

You didn’t expect anything else, to be honest. “Well, I’m grateful.”

“What for?” Sometimes it felt as if he’d only fake interest, but even that you were happy about - because it gave you hope that at least somehow, he was trying to make you feel home.

Maybe you were just imagining things, though.

“Oh” you started, giggling shyly. “Many things: That you stepped into my life, for example. Chosing me as your partner. Or simply for you coming home safely, and that you’ve let me spoil you a little.”

The absence of an answer made you think he already fell into a dreamless slumber, so you decided to give him some rest. He probably had a harsh mission and right afterwards you had clung on him, almost as if he was a social experiment.

This whole day probably was a little much for someone who had never felt a single pleasant bodily contact before.

Little did you know that your husband was still wide awake, yet deeply buried in thought.

Yes.

Your presence seemed to be beneficial in other ways than practical, he concluded.

But how exactly? He was unable to put it in words.

Yet the rest of the evening, his mind was fogged by your lingering touch and the memory of your soothing voice.

To Illumi, the power you had over him was more dangerous than Nen itself.

___

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