#i have quite a few of these myself! still working on the rest :)

[malk1ns]

march 21 v blue jackets, 6-3 win

his-and-his goals games are my favorite. alright geno now let's get you to 20 on the season, hey?

i got an ask a week or so ago asking how the soulbond boys were doing now that it's been a few months. this is just a short and sweet little piece, but rest assured that they've gotten past all their roadblocks and are having a grand old time :)

previous soulbond installments: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

That puck shouldn’t have gone in.

Not because Zhenya isn’t capable of making the play—obviously he is, he’s scored his fair share of tip-in goals over the years, he knows how to read a goalie and put the puck behind them from in close. It’s something he’s trying to work on more this season, and it’s nice when the effort pays off.

This one, though, went a direction he didn’t quite intend. He meant to shove it five-hole, but at the absolute last second his wrist turned as if on its own and snuck it into the net short side.

It’s a goal. He’ll take it. But he catches Sid’s eye as he goes down the fistbump line, raising his eyebrows.

Sid smiles at him. He feels smug at the back of Zhenya’s mind.

Zhenya rolls his eyes as he shoves his way onto the bench, projecting as much disapproval as he can across the bond as he makes his way to Sid’s side.

“Cheat,” he accuses lowly, ducking down and grabbing a water bottle to hide what he’s saying. “Think I can’t do myself?”

“Just giving you a nudge, bud,” Sid says, and he sounds so pleased with himself, tickling Zhenya’s brain with giddy replays of the goal and his view of Zhenya’s hands going up in celebration, that Zhenya can’t even stay fake-mad for long. “You’ve been playing your ass off, wanted to make sure you got that one.”

Sid’s been in a great mood since Four Nations. Zhenya hadn’t gone; their bond hasn’t leaked to the general public yet, but he’s pretty sure him randomly showing up at games in Boston or Montreal would have let the cat out of the bag, and neither of them are ready for the resulting discourse and scrutiny. He watched every game, though, putting his TV on mute and following along through Sid, letting the images on the screen blur and merge with the sounds and feelings Sid was experiencing. It was almost as good as being there, and when Sid lifted that silly little trophy Zhenya felt his own heart swoop.

He wishes he could give that to Sid again, brute-force their way through the playoffs and watch Sid lift the Stanley Cup, maybe on home ice this time. Zhenya’s a dreamer, but he’s realistic too, and he knows the chances that he touches the Cup again are practically none, and the likelihood of Team Russia competing in anything before he retires is barely higher than that. Living a championship through Sid, as silly and made-up as that tournament was, is the closest Zhenya will likely get.

Sid’s been pretty even-keeled about the season ever since the bond specialists finally left them alone and he and Zhenya could settle into their new reality, but he came back from break with a new gold medal and a spring in his step, and Zhenya can’t deny that it’s making the home stretch of the season more fun. He’s loud and cheery in the locker room and playful in bed, and between this and Zhenya’s fairly miraculous recovery from his knee injury he’s been spending the last month or so half-wondering if there’s another shoe about to drop.

So far, none has appeared. Zhenya, apparently, is just a lucky man.

“You get one too,” he says to Sid, half-standing to watch the puck skitter down the ice. “Next shift, okay, go score.”

“Yes sir,” Sid says, a smile in his voice.

It’s not quite the next shift. Sid does get his goal before the end of the game, though, and Zhenya does his best to force all the filthy things he wants to do to Sid later that night through the bond, watching Sid’s face slowly turn red in the middle of the celly scrum.

Zhenya’s still better than Sid at managing the bond, and he’s far more creative in bed than Sid is. It’s a combination he takes advantage of regularly.

It’s not like Sid’s complaining.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

While Ive never read her books, I would love to read your criticism if the works of Sarah j Maas. What are your problems with her worldbuilding?

So like, disclaimer that I have DNF'd her books myself and instead of trying to finish reading them I got the rest of my info from multiple different youtubers who posted full recaps and deep dives of her books.

I can't stand the romantic relationships she writes and I think her pacing is a mess. So that's why I haven't read all her books myself, they're just so not my thing. I'm not a fan of a lot of "gateway fantasy" type books that are considered "easy reads" for people who want the hot sexy romances with a fantasy backdrop, because I personally really don't need a gateway into fantasy lol I've been into this genre since I was a small child and I prefer to read books that are deeper with their worldbuilding. I don't write epic fantasy adventures, I stick more to low stakes slice of life and romance, but I like to write a very detailed fantasy world and i do enjoy reading a good fantasy adventure.

There are a few things I dislike about the way Sarah J Maas does her worldbuilding, though she is by far not the absolute worst at it. I would call her worldbuilding mediocre and inconsistent. Also I think she relies too heavily on just tossing a bunch of real life myth and folklore into her books without really exploring it deeper, like she's just adding Easter eggs in for people who happen to know a lot of different folklore and stuff. Like why do valkyries and Koshei the Deathless suddenly get mentioned in the extremely celtic inspired fae books. They're barely plot relevant and don't get explored, they just kind of exist. Also I'm not from any celtic cultures but considering how poorly SJM handles characters of color, I can't imagine that her treatment of celtic myth and folklore is any better. I don't think she did as much research as she should have.

I don't mind a soft magic system, especially for fae who can do a lot with trickster magic and wild magic. But even soft magic needs to be consistent in what it can or cannot do, and her magic is not consistent. Example: three different instances of faries with injured wings.

In her first ACoTaR book there is a fairy who dies because their wings are absolutely mangled. Almost gets a pass because there was the whole magic restriction thing going on, but how much the magic is restricted is still left quite ambiguous and I'm still not entirely sure why no one could have healed that fairy. Why is that impossible while they're also still using magic enough to perform that sexy fertility ritual that renews the magic in the region, or whatever? Plot convenience, because we needed a dramatic death scene for a nameless nobody character to make Feyre cry, I guess.

And then in another book one of the dudes with bat wings has them basically torn off during a big magical war and they're healed no problem, no lasting consequences, just grow em right back, the healing magic is apparently just that powerful. Okay. We can say that's because the magic is no longer being restricted I guess. Kinda sucks that an actually plot relevant named character doesn't get long term effects from losing such big limbs though.

And then the kicker: the bat wing fairies are such over the top evil misogynists that they have a tradition of clipping women's wings (never mind the fact that these are bat wings??? What do you mean by "clipping", girl, this is not at all like bird feathers! Also I don't like the implication that it's like female genital mutilation because the wings are an erogenous zone) and apparently this cannot be magically healed at all ever and the important fairy dudes who could stop this tradition talk about how bad it is but don't really put effort into stopping it. Yuck.

Overall there's also just this weird internalized misogyny all over her books with just enough of a #girlboss feminist layer over top that fans will get mad if you point out the blatant sexism.

Also, SJM writes literally every single fantasy people with omegaverse werewolf dynamics but refuses to actually make werewolves the spotlight in the one series where they do exist in her worldbuilding. Please just write the bad werewolf smut you're clearly obsessed with, SJM, I am begging you. I hate that she started this trend of "fae" being so alpha male and fated mates and having this weird obsession with scents. Like why do the fae smell when people have sex or get pregnant. Why are they always using "males" and "females" instead of "men" and "women". Why do they bare their teeth at each other like wolves establishing their pack hierarchy. I hate this. Put it back in the werewolf fic where it belongs.

There are worse worldbuilders out there, to be sure. I just really can't get behind the SJM hype, it's never going to appeal to me.

Edit: totally forgot to add my complaint about her excessive use of magical macGuffins. So many magical macGuffins. Put some of those back on the shelf, you really don't need them. There are so many.

[pinkadillydoo]

wanted a new phone wallpaper and then remembered i can draw. so :3

[sugarsnappeases]

thank you for the tag @fxreflyes this is so cute, except the format is trying to hinder my propensity to ramble, so i’ve rectified this in the tags lmao

i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child

no pressure tags for @static-radio-ao3 @inevitablestars @itsjaywalkers @carniferous @orbitfalls @transsexualpriest @futurequibblerjournalist <333

[sysig]

I'm almost finished with this notebook with it's horrible paper, and I just finished the first page of my Big Project

[tardis--dreams]

Wow this really was terrible. I think I'll stay in university as compared to work it seems actually quite nice (:

[callmecoke]

sugar baby headcanons!

CW: Mention of sex work, This is sfw generally but still deals with adult topics so proceed with caution.

Tf141 x reader

What you’ve realised about your favourite mystery account is that A) it's run by multiple people, and B) At least one of them is called Price.

You can’t exactly pinpoint who the rest are or how many, but you’ve managed to identify a few common themes when interacting with the account.

First, you know who Price is, and you can almost always tell it's him when he’s interacting with you. He’s the one you go to first regarding bills and fees you physically can’t pay. Within seconds, he transfers you the money and never lets you thank him for any of it. He also does his weekly check-ins to make sure everything is good. “Have you eaten?” “How’d you sleep?” “Did you take your meds last night?” That kind of thing. He’s also the one who calls you ‘Dolly’, a nickname he reserved for you. 

But you're also pretty sure this other guy (Simon) lurks in the chat when you’re streaming. He won’t ask questions; he just sends you random tips throughout the stream while he watches silently. He’s not as talkative as Price or the others, and that’s kind of how you know it's him. But you’ve realised that just because he’s quiet doesn't mean he doesn't want to talk. It’s quite the opposite. He enjoys hearing you talk about your life and day and silently rewards you. When you DM him, you even get a little conversation. Nothing more than money and a “Nice”, but still conversation nonetheless.

You know one other fellow spends most of his time in the livestreams and not in your DMs (Gaz). He’s the one who engages with you in conversation the most, asking endless questions about your life. And he always comes back on the next live stream, remembering everything you said in the last. He’ll want the update on that project you were working on for school or if that job interview went as well as you both had hoped. If you weren’t Live to complete strangers, you’d probably open up to him about stuff you’ve never told anyone.

Now…One more person shows up now and again, mainly in your DMs. Part of the service for the website is that people can pay you to take a selfie and give it to them. They can be dirty or completely innocent; it all depends on what you’re advertising. There’s this one person who rather frequently asks for pictures of you, especially those with you smiling. You know it’s a different guy from the others you’ve spotted because he’s the only one who's outright flirtatious with you. Initially, you were wary. A man spending a lot of money on pictures of your face and upper body just screams trouble. But you grew to trust the account, so when you sent them the image, you were surprised by how quickly he showered you with praise.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’ll give a strong man a heart attack walking around that gorgous.”

“Makes me wonder how cute you look in person.” “I’m surprised no ones come along and snatched you up all ready. Can’t complain though. Means I get more of you to myself.”

You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a slight blush on your cheeks after reading his responses.

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[suiana]

(yandere! zombie x gn! survivor reader) (im such a youtube shorts kid bruh this idea came to me because of a video i watched)

did you know that zombies retain their habits from when they were humans?

well you sure as hell do now, because why is your annoying neighbour still following you around?? he's literally fucking rotting???

"shoo! go away!"

you hiss at him, shooting a rubber band at him before quickly climbing up a tree. phew, you wouldn't be bothered by him from here. it's been like this for a few days now, your undead neighbour following you around as you did your best to survive in this ruined world.

you never really liked him, your neighbour that is. he's always been that one weird guy that keeps annoying you ever since he moved in. constantly knocking on your door and asking to have meals together, to getting to and from work at the same times as you... you're so sure that he was stalking you. how could it ever be a coincidence that he just somehow knew when you were going out and coming back from work?

but now you wouldn't ever know and it's not like you wanted to know anyway. ignorance is bliss after all. oh! he's also very stubborn and it's quite apparent in his zombie form.

"bweh."

"go away!"

the zombie hits at the tree you were sitting down on as he looks up at you with what seemed to be puppydog eyes. you could only grimace at the sight before checking through your supplies. shit, you're running out of stuff.

"ugh... i'll need to scavenge for food-"

"guh!"

you raise an eyebrow at your undead admirer before humming. right, you suppose it isn't that bad that you have him around... he gives you stuff that's useful and scares away other mobs (you think he eats them if they get too close to you). you would've actually coddled him like a dog if he wasn't trying to get into your pants or kiss you every second.

"thanks."

you lean forward and snatch the bad of chips from his rotting hands before stuffing it into your bag. mn, you could probably have that for your lunch and dinner tomorrow.

"let's see... i need to find a good place to sleep tonight."

"bwa! buh beh!"

your zombie immediately starts scratching at the tree bark before jutting his lower lip. huh...

"no, i'm not sleeping in your apartment."

"gah!"

you think you're starting to understand zombie language because why are you holding full on conversations with him??

"don't give me that face. you know our apartment complex is riddled with zombies. i don't want to be turned."

"kh... gur! rh..."

"you think i'm trusting you? i swear i saw our old neighbour lurking around there and he was an olympic sprinter."

you shake your finger at the zombie before sighing softly. why did this apocalypse have to happen? things were going great for you before this. you just had a raise and you were so close to landing a date with your hot boss!

if you didn't know any better you'd have thought that your little zombie admirer was the one who kickstarted this zombie apocalypse because of his jealousy. what did he work as before he turned? a scientist?

"tn... jhn... ngh..."

"don't act all sassy with me right now. it's not like i want to sleep in your place to begin with. you'd probably lock me in there with you and i'd be trapped."

"bah!"

rolling your eyes at the sassy undead man, you rest against the trunk of the tree and shut your eyes. might as well get some rest before setting off again.

"i'm going to rest now. help me keep an eye out."

"kah kah. jah?"

"no, i won't kiss you. and no, i most certainly won't reward you with myself. you're rotting, damnit! how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"ui..."

what in the sassy zombie apocalypse have you gotten yourself into?

[lorasdolly]

𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚊 𝚡 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Mothers day was a special day for every mother, they'd receive appreciative gifts and support from their kids, jewelry and bouquets from their husbands.

For Ambessa, the well known warlord of the noxian nation, it was just an ordinary day. It wasn't as if her and Mel were going to reconcile any time soon, and what was the point in celebrating an ordinary day?

Ambessa was in nothing but a maroon red robe as she sat on her balcony, gazing at the view in front of her as you, her personal servant, stood next to her, ready to tend to her.

She glanced at you for a few seconds before turning back to look at the view of her nation, clearing her throat before deciding to say something.

"It is truly a shame you do not celebrate Mother’s Day and have to be by my side instead, my dearest." Ambessa lied through her teeth, she was only curious of what your answer might be.

"I have no husband, miss medarda." you spoke smoothly, not hesitating to answer her inquiries.

Ambessa shrugged and leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her knuckles on her jaw, a habit she does quite often when she ponders about something. "You could have a boyfriend." She said bluntly.

You shake your head swiftly, pursing your lips together. You turned to the wine, refilling the glass she had waiting to be poured into.

"Happy mother's day to you anyways, miss medarda."

"Oh? How sweet of you, dear." She chuckled, glancing at you from her peripheral vision, still leaning back into her chair.

"Thank you, I suppose." She muttered, taking a few long seconds before asking another question, it piqued her curiosity.

"You are quite young, it is surprising that you are not interested in starting a potential family." She spoke, not shying away from usually personal questions.

"I busy myself with work, miss medarda," you spoke with a soft tone, an edge of indifference towards the idea.

"I don't plan on marrying a man anytime soon." you said this part more quietly, not sure if continued context was appreciated at the moment.

She chuckled a second time at the answer, it was quite amusing to her how simple and straightforward you were. "Good point. What about women, then? Any luck in that department?"

A flush appeared on your face, coughing slightly when she threw the out-of-the-blue question. "No ma'am." you said, not elaborating any more.

But she decided to dismiss the subject for now, shifting back to facing the view in front of her.

Ambessa let out a somewhat tired exhale and shifted herself a little before asking, "Could you do something for me?" 

You nodded, making eye contact with her stern gaze. You've seen her in ceremonies, she's firm with her words and actions.

You were one of the few who saw her resting, but far from vulnerable.

She stood up from her chair, still clad in nothing but her loose red robe, it exposed a good chunk of her thick muscular thighs and a little bit of cleavage too, of course. 

"Prepare a nice hot bath, will you?" Ambessa said casually before making her way inside the room, with you following behind her.

Your hands constantly rested behind your back unless you were serving her.

You entered her bathroom, it was larger than any other one in the estate. Ambessa knew the importance of relaxation, and she took it to heart.

The tub was large and deep, filled with water so hot that steam was coming off the surfaces of it. It was just how she liked it.

Ambessa was untying her robe, letting it loosen and fall carelessly to the floor, she then started walking towards the tub, letting out a satisfied sigh at the sight of it.

You've been her undressed many times, but you never failed to avert your gaze in nervousness.

She looked over at you, you seemed to be still staring at her, so she decided to be a little cheeky. "Are going to watch me in the bath the whole time?"

You took your spot behind her, a small stool for you to sit on. Carefully, your hands massaged her back, untying any knots she carried on her back. "Would you prefer of me to leave, ma'am?"

"Mhm, please do continue." She spoke, body releasing tension.

Ambessa closed her eyes, leaning back and letting out a small sigh as you started to massage her shoulders, those strong yet tired muscles. Your hands were gentle and pleasant, yet firm and efficient. 

"You do such a good job. It’s almost like you have done this a thousand times." She spoke with a pleasant tone.

"You deserve mental repose, ma'am." You spoke close to a whisper, not wanting to disrupt her peace.

"Especially on Mother's day." you added.

"You’re too sweet," She opened her eyes and glanced down at herself and then at you before smirking a little.

Her eyes were mostly focused on your hands massaging her shoulders. She was just imagining how else your hands could be used, perhaps in other kinds of massages.

Ambessa shook her head slightly as if dismissing a thought that suddenly popped into her head. 

"You surely carry the figure of a warrior, ma'am." you spoke, the praise falling off your tongue easily. It was far from a lie.

Ah, she truly adored when people praised her.

Ambessa’s smirk grew wider, her eyes still fixated on you. "You’re flattering me, little one," She said in a smooth and sultry voice, mixed with her raspy tone.

"Are you this nice and gentle to everyone you serve?" she half joked, but expected a response of some kind.

"Maybe. Perhaps far more towards you, ma'am." You had served many people from the Medarda house, even Mel Medarda at some point when she was only a child, but a sense of familiarity came from serving Ambessa.

She chuckled at your reply, taking it as an interesting answer. "And why is that? Why treat me any different, hm?"

Ambessa leaned her head back a little, giving your hands access to the base of her neck, still smirking and looking at you.

"I have served you the longest," you said, but more words rested at the tip of your tongue. You didn't allow them to slip, silently swallowing them.

Ambessa’s smirk changed into a small little smile as her gaze turned from a somewhat sultry one to a more warm one, an unexpected change, a rare one, too.

"I suppose I don’t mind your presence either, little one," She let out a deep and relaxed exhale, closing her eyes again.

"You’re actually more pleasant to be around than my own offspring at times." She spoke with a hint of bitterness in her tone now.

"I'm sure that's far from the truth, miss medarda." you said in a poor attempt at comfort.

You knew she didn't require comfort, nor pity. She was a strong woman.

"Many consider you.. Intimidating, miss medarda." you began, wishing to change the subject.

"Intimidating, huh?" Ambessa smirked again, opening her eyes and glancing at you again, now amused at your words.

"You’re not afraid, are you?" She chuckled, her gaze shifting from a more casual one to one with a slightly more suggestive look now.

"I..i don't think i have any reason to be afraid. i don't do anything to anger you, and you're a woman of reason." You spoke, a hint of tenderness behind your words.

"You wouldn't hurt me without reason." you finished.

"Correct," She spoke in her sultry tone again, still smirking

Her gaze was fixated on you again, her eyes slowly and slowly looking over you head to toe, as if she was inspecting you. Her smirk grew wider as her eyes traveled further and further down. 

"You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, smart girl." She paused for a moment, still looking you over intently.

Her gaze was nearly frightening.

She looked around before continuing. "And a lovely body as well."

A gentle smile graced your face, compliments from Ambessa Medarda were unusual.

"Thank you, Miss Medarda."

Ambessa hummed to herself, seemingly pleased by your appearance and your words, but that was not the only thing that was currently pleased.

She leaned back and closed her eyes again, "Keep massaging, will you?"

Her tone was commanding and assertive, like she expected you to do without arguing.

Your hands kept skillfully massaging, digging into ever tense muscle she had.

She closed her eyes and let out another satisfied hum, enjoying your massaging skills.

Ambessa sat still for quite a while, feeling your hands on her shoulders and back, until she finally spoke once more.

"You’re skilled at this," She said, a hint of satisfaction mixed with desire in her tone. 

One of your finger tips traced over her scars, they were scattered all over her arms, back, and shoulders.

They were healed, meaning they were old enough to forget. Gently, you traced the last one and spoke. "You have a handful of scars. You've been in war quite a lot."

She opened her eyes for a moment, glancing at the many scars all over her lower arms, but not giving it too much attention, she's had them for years now after all.

Ambessa chuckled a little as you asked that question, it was such a harmless yet casual question to ask a renowned warlord.

"Most of them, yes." She replied, her tone indifferent, as if she was merely talking about the weather.

"I'm sure it's exhausting to always be carrying the pressure of being on the frontlines." You said, your massaging becoming slower and softer.

Her expression became somewhat solemn for a moment as she remembered all the battles and wars she was involved in.

There was a pang of tiredness and exhaustion within her, but she quickly dismissed it and her expression became one of indifference again. 

"It’s just part of life," She replied bluntly, like it was just a simple task, like having breakfast or taking a walk. "I was born, bred, and raised to be a warrior."

You hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not to mention something. A moment of relatability. "I have.. a couple of scars, too."

You backtracked for a moment, "Not any as brutal as yours, I'm sure."

That piqued her interest.

Ambessa lifted her head up again and moved her head to the side, looking at you, she let out a scoff and raised an eyebrow at you, a mix of surprise and curiosity in her eyes.

"A couple, you say?" She spoke in a slightly intrigued tone.

You remembered moments of weakness, seconds of vulnerability that have coated your identity all your life.

It's been a part of you for as long as you've known, much different than Ambessa.

"Near my thighs and belly." you clarified, clearing your throat.

She looked down at your thighs on cue as you spoke, her gaze lingering there for a few moments.

A little hum escaped her lips as she did so, but she was still somewhat interested in knowing how you received those scars, of course.

"How’d you get them?"

Ambessa spoke with an interested and curious tone, but there was a hint of playfulness in there as well. 

"I wasn't.. always a Medarda servant, ma'am." You spoke quietly, an edge of uncertainty in your voice.

Her eyebrow raised again, her interest grew even more now.

Ambessa turned her body a little to the side and leaned an elbow on the tub’s edge, looking directly at you and now giving you her undivided attention.

And she was also somewhat fixated on your thighs again, eyeing them, she was visibly somewhat distracted.

You tensed, sitting straight with your hands now resting on your lap. "I come from Zaun. Then.. the Medarda family found use for me."

"I'm eternally grateful." You spoke, gratitude coating the tip of your tongue.

Ambessa kept her eyes fixated on your thighs for a few more seconds before she shifted her gaze to your stomach instead, fabric covering the scars there too.

She let out scoff before speaking in an almost mocking tone. "Eternal gratitude to the Medarda house, you say?"

You nodded. Your eyes gazed at her features, the firmness behind them. Your eyes differed, sparks in every corner of your eyes.

She chuckled again and looked over your body, taking in the scars before returning her gaze back to your face.

"Is that so?" Ambessa smirked before shifting her body even more towards you, she leaned a little closer to you now, eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your reply. "And why is that?"

"I would have much more scars if it weren't for the Medarda house." You thought of the possibilites, where you could've been right now.

Pained in the middle of Zaun, stuck working in the same place.

She hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer. Ambessa nodded in response and continued.

"And why do you think they took you?" She inquired with an intrigued expression.

"I'm useful." You replied curtly, knowing your place, why you were there.

The clock from her bedroom ticked, and silence encircled you and Ambessa.

That answer left her somewhat unsatisfied and wanting more, she wanted to know how exactly you are of use, though it was not difficult to see that you were pretty. 

Ambessa leaned closer again, her voice lowering and becoming huskier, her smirk growing wider. “And how are you useful, hm? Do tell me."

“They say I am a good listener. And pliant.” Your voice didn't crack as you spoke, unashamed of who you were, how you were.

It got you this far.

"Pliant, hm? An obedient little thing, aren't you?" Ambessa’s tone was still lower, even, and her smirk grew wider upon hearing those adjectives, those descriptions of you. 

Her eyes flicked to your thighs again, looking over them in an almost admiring manner. Your hands covered certain scars on your lap. You felt judged, to a certain extent. Like she judged you for not disobeying, for not rebelling.

Quickly, you came to your own defense. “It makes my life easier. I know I won't be above anyone anytime soon, so why attempt?” you kept being respectful even though her gaze secretly made you feel uneasy.

That made her chuckle again, amused and intrigued at your answer.

Ambessa’s smirked widened slightly before leaning down farther, now looking down at your body sitting below her, and looking over it intently, her gaze stopping on your thighs again.  "It is wise to know your place in life," She said in a low, almost murmuring tone, like she was speaking that as a piece of advice to you.

"You know yours, don’t you?” she knew you did, but she wanted clarification. She wanted you to say it. To admit you're beneath her and all of those you served, or at least that's how you understood her question.

“Yes ma’am,” you said, not specifying what your place is. You didn't want to. "Good," She said plainly, still looking over your body.

Ambessa let one of her hands gently rest on your thigh, caressing the scars that were there and enjoying the sight of your thighs, before letting out a very satisfied hum. “I do enjoy pliant and obedient people, they really are more useful, aren’t they?”

“I’d hope so.” You said softly. You didn't deny the breadth of your subordination, how that did make you beneficial or simply convenient to keep around.

At this point, there was no denying that she was intentionally letting her hand rest on your thighs, no doubt enjoying the feeling of your skin under her finger tips. She chuckled again before speaking in a slightly more commanding tone. "Have you always been this good and useful, little one?"

Your hands rested on your lap, apprehension in every crevice of your bones. “To be truthful with you, I worked in a brothel at Zaun.” You chose not to be ashamed. “I needed to be flexible. That is where I got these scars..” Your voice had grown confident speaking about it.

Others in the Medarda house knew about your origin, but not Ambessa.

Ambessa’s hand continued to rest on your thigh, now beginning to slowly and gently caress it. She seemed somewhat surprised by hearing that you were a brothel worker, her hand stopped moving and her expression changed for a moment, seemingly somewhat disturbed and displeased.

Then a few seconds passed and her hand started moving on your thigh again and her expression became somewhat neutral again, though there was still a hint of dislike visible in her eyes.

"Hm." Ambessa hummed, her tone becoming a little more authoritative again. “And how… utilized were you in the brothel? How pliable were you?” Ambessa asked that question in a somewhat commanding and definitive tone, wanting an honest reply, she looked at you with a more grave facial expression.

“I allowed many things to happen to me.” You looked down, making direct eye contact with Ambessa. “I needed to let them do it.”

Her expression changed to one of displeasure again once you spoke. She let out a scoff and looked you over for a few more seconds, still with a slightly discontent expression. “A poor woman in need, then? A woman desperate for money to survive." Ambessa spoke with a mocking and almost condescending tone, but there was also a hint of curiosity in it as well.

“They’d pay more depending on how much I’d let them do.” You spoke softer this time, hinting at the nonexistent limit you set on your “clients.”

Your lips continued to purse, tense at the thought of how much you were sharing. That made her chuckle again, this time it wasn’t a satisfied chuckle, it was more of a sinister one. "Did they treat you cruelly, then? Were they cruel to you?" Ambessa spoke in an almost sneering tone as she looked you over again, eyeing your body and taking in your scars once more.

“Yes, Miss Medarda.” You replied firmly, not sugarcoating your experiences. You stood your ground, refusing to feel guilty for doing what was necessary to survive. At your blunt response, her expression changed yet again, a sinister smirk appearing on her face now.

Ambessa’s hand still continued to gently stroke your thigh as she spoke in a more mocking and even cruel tone, an odd excitement visible in her eyes. "And you allowed it, didn’t you, little one?”

Your thigh had goosebumps from her calloused hands running over them, trying to keep eye contact. “Yes, I did.”

Her hand suddenly stopped moving, now gripping your thigh more firmly, her nails digging into your skin a little, but not enough to break it. Ambessa’s smirk became even wider, clearly enjoying holding some power over you like this, enjoying that submission from you. 

Her tone was still mocking and cruel, even as she spoke. "How… pathetic.”

“Please excuse me if this tarnishes the perception you had of me.” you said, hoping she didn’t think any differently of you. You weren’t apologetic but craved her approval, her validation.

Her smirk slowly faded after a while when your words sunk in. Ambessa’s grip on your thigh lessened, her hand and fingers no longer digging into your skin so firmly.

“Tarnishes?” She spoke that word with a scoff and a hint of irritation in her tone.  "You think I think less of you because you were forced to do that?”

Ambessa then looked at you with a slight glare, her gaze more intense and serious now, it was as if she was trying to see right through you, reading your true thoughts. “You have mistaken what I said.” you corrected, averting your gaze this time. “I wasn’t forced to do anything.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, her glare softening slightly to one of surprise. Ambessa was taken back a little by your answer, clearly surprised by the revelation that you weren’t entirely forced to work at the brothel, that you permitted yourself to be treated like that. 

"You weren’t… forced? You… did it of your own will?" She spoke that question with an almost dumbfounded, surprised tone. “I am a desperate woman, ma’am. I walked into that brothel out of my own will.”

That realization further widened her eyes, she stared at you for a few more moments with her wide open eye, her expression now becoming a mixture of surprise and vexation, even confusion.

She had clearly underestimated exactly how desperate you were.

Ambessa leaned back slightly, her eyes now darting between your thighs and your stomach again, as if she couldn’t figure out exactly how to feel about this.  “You went in on your own? Simply to make money?"

“I was on the verge of death if I didn’t get paid-“ you quickly got defensive, hands clenching into fists at your lap. Your eyebrows furrowed, not enjoying the judgement that radiated off of her.

Her eyes widened again after hearing that.  Ambessa was taken back again, and surprised once more, but more than that, she was… pitying you.

The powerful, warlord of Noxus, pitying you.

Her glare softened even more and her expression slowly changed to one of a somewhat insight and pitiful one. "Was that the only option you had?”

You shake your head quicky, “Gosh, no.” You squeezed your eyes shut fora moment, all emotions rushing through you. “I had other options, all over Zaun.”

Desperate, yes, that would be the best word to describe you.

Ambessa’s eyes narrowed slightly as that thought crossed her mind. “You had other options." She repeated that part while looking you over again, her hand still gently caressing your thighs.

“And you chose to do that instead?” she emphasized, referring to your previous line of work as if it were horrifying. “I know,” you replied, aware of the lack of self-respect and dignity you had allowed yourself to acquire by letting anyone treat you however they pleased.

Her hand gripped your thigh firmly again when you said that, her eyes narrowed even further. "Why?" Ambessa asked that single word in a firm, curious tone, wanting to know the exact reason behind your choice.

She gave you a chance to explain yourself but you knew it would be in vain. “It was the quickest way. a few clients in one day, letting them do anything, i'd earn not a lot, but more than enough to live.”

That answer left her with a bitter taste in her mouth, almost sickened. Ambessa’s hand tightened again around your thigh as she let your answer sink in, she looked at you with a more serious and judging expression. ".... and that’s what you did? Every day?"

She never had to experience being in that spot. Sure, she’s requested brothel workers before, but only from the finest of places. “Yes,” you replied simply.

Once again, her eyes widened when you answered in a blank and firm tone, confirming her question. That disclosure only made her feel more pity for you, but that was mingled with a hint of contempt and disruption as well. 

She looked over your scarred body again and just couldn’t help but look at your thighs in particular. “Does this make you think any less of me yet?” you said, humor in your voice.

Ambessa’s hand squeezed your thigh again when you said that, almost in a gentle, yet firm way. "Yes, you’re used and.. pathetic.” She almost spat those words at you, her expression becoming more stern and serious, almost cruel and judgmental.

"But I don’t feel any less of you, little one." Ambessa spoke in a lower, softer but firm tone, her free hand lightly stroking the part of your thighs without scars, and her grip still tight.

“I never imagined you’d be the one to spare me humiliation, Miss Medarda,” you said with a scoff. “I’ve gone through enough of it, no need to hide it from me.” your eyes rolled as you finished your sentence, feeling infantilized.

Her hand moved from your stomach up to cup your cheek, she gently but firmly gripped your face and forced you to look directly at her as she spoke. “Why would I admit that I feel less of you even though you’ve been exploited?”

Ambessa’s tone still held that firm and authoritative quality in it, but there was an element of gentleness to it as well. "Just because you allowed it to happen doesn’t mean you deserved it. You do not deserve that disgrace."

You despised how she spared you her wrath, the way she sympathized. The sweetness is her tone was little but sickening, you hated the pity.

“Forgive me,” you spoke quickly. Silence diverged in the small space between you and her.

“Tell me dear, have you ever been given what you wanted?” she tured back around in the bath, motioning her hand for you to continue the massage. Your hands resumed their movement.

Doubt began to surface within you, uncertain of how to react to her. “No, ma’am,” you ultimately said.

“Have you ever wanted much?” She kept questioning and this time you nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

“Can I give it to you?”

She had laid you down on her bed, her body still damp from the recent bath. She hadn’t put her clothes on yet, the water drop falling onto your uniform. Your lips were parted in a level of suprise unmatched.

“Miss Medarda-“ You began but she cut you off, a hand on your chin roughly. She held your chin there to make sure that you kept eye contact with her. “Are you nervous, dearest?” she said, teasing, almost mocking.

She brought her hand away from your chin and placed two fingers on your pulse. She counted silently. "Think you are." She leaned down to whisper that, her knee finding its way between your thighs.

"Do you want me to take off..this?" her finger toyed with the white apron tied around your uniform. She cocked a brow once you nodded.

"Words.." she dragged, tracing the finger down her body.

"Yes, miss medarda.." your breathed out, eyes shutting.

Carefully, she undid the apron, throwing it someplace on your luxurious floor. But still the fabric of the uniform covered your body, held her back from what she wanted.

"Miss medarda.. take it off.." she chuckled at your words, at the way your vision narrowed towards her. The desperation in your gaze.

"Needy little one, hm?" She began unbuttoning the back of the dress, her arms encircling you.

"Ambessa. Say it." Ambessa asked of you, waiting for her to name to slip off your tongue.

"Ambessa.." you spoke the moment she threw the dress on the floor. All you now had on was a bralette and lace panties.

She traced your panties and the waistband, then cupping one of your breast with her hand.

"Should I remove these barriers, too?" She asked, knowing the answer already.

She enjoyed seeing you submit to your pleasure, also knowing this would be one of the first times you'd do that.

"Yes, yes please, Ambessa." you were just oh so well-mannered. She loved hearing you plead, hearing you be so respectful and ready for her.

She slid the bralette off, then meticulously the panties. She watched as you huffed and whined. "Can.. can I touch you, Ambessa?" you asked sweetly, a pathetic and doe-eyed expression painted on your features.

She nearly let out a cackle, a dark smile graced her lips. She brought a hand to graze your bottom lip and then your forehead. "Sure, dearest."

You immediately clinged to her, needing to remove any article of clothing. "So impatient.." she chuckled and removed you small hand.

The difference between your hands brought a spark straight to your clit, she could hold both of yours in one of hers.

She made it easier for you, removing her shirt and pants as she kneeled on the bed. You layed down, spread out for her.

She was left in panties only, no bra, just her panties.

She came back to her original spot, cupping your tit with her big hand, squeezing and stroking it.

She was far from gentle yet it seemed so tender through your perspective, much more gentle then anybody at the brothel.

She slowly brought her mouth closer to the other breast, staring at you through her lashes before beginning to suck on your nipple. Slowly, and gently latching onto it.

She suckled, eyes closed and pleased. Her hand left your other breast, traveling down to your cunt.

With no ounce of patience, she entered one thick finger into your slick cunt. A moan left your mouth, arching your back which caused your breast to go further into her mouth.

Did i mention she had rather large hands?

She started curling it, pressing down onto your g-spot. Your spongy walls squeezed around her finger, making wet and sloppy noises she's never heard before.

She laughed darkly onto your tit and then let it go with a "pop" noise.

She looked at you, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure. "Feel nice, dearest?"

You nodded, whine and whimpers coming from the utter depths of your chest. Remembering her command to use words and not gestures, you spoke. "Yes.. so- so good.."

With that, she entered another digit into your sopping cunt. You were just being so damn good and obedient for her, she had to make you feel good.

Her fingers pumped in and out of you at a pace you've never felt before, squirming endlessly. She held you down with one arm, stopping your squirming.

"I-I'm so close.." Your words echoed through her mind and she smirked.

"Stay silent." She said firmly, bringing her breast to your mouth as she kept her extended arm fingering you deeply.

You moaned on it, basically feeding on your tit. You were so close, just about to be pushed over the edge.

"Cum, dearest." she spoke in a sultry tone, causing you to come undone, squirting on her hand.

She helped you ride your high, pressing into your velvety spot multiple times till you backed away.

Your fluids coated her fingers and she didn't hesitate to clean them with her tongue. She smothered the liquid on her lips and then the rest into her mouth.

You reached up for her, needing some sense of closure. Your hand tangled into her hair. "K..kiss-" you said softly.

"What's that, dear? Do you wish for a kiss?" She teased, her clean hand touching your cheek gently.

A nod from you was enough to make her kiss you, not even a single word needed.

She asserted dominance in the kiss quickly, exploring your mouth with her tongue. Even if she expected patience from others, she was not a patient woman.

It was a passionate kiss, leaving you pushing on her chest with a small palm, desperate for air.

She broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your tongues. You breathed with your tongue resting slightly outside your mouth.

You tugged at her panties, needing them off, needing to please her.

She made you feel so good, how could you now return the favor?

She did as you asked and took off her own panties the kneeling on the bed. You knew what she wanted and you were prepared to serve it to her on a sliver platter.

She lowered her pussy onto your face, the wet mess of arousal on your lips and nose. "Eat, dearest." She demanded, a smile on her lips as her hands founds the headboard.

You nodded, a muffled "Yes ma'am" as you began to suck on her clit. She had a bush above her pussy, tickling your face but you didn't care, it just made you more needy.

You ate her like some sort of candy, starving for something to eat.

It was messy, sloppy, uncalled for. She moved one hand to grip your hair. She bucked her hips against your face, her clit getting friction against your nose.

She came on your face quickly, savoring the moment.

Collapsing besides you, she held your arm. Both of you panted, breathing heavily in inexplicable pleasure.

"Think you're the one that requires a shower now." she spoke, a breathy laugh at the back of her throat.

You whined, a "hngh" leaving your lips. Turning your body and resting it on top of hers.

Wasn't that a nice mother's day gift?

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Soft (drabble)

pairing: hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, just a smidge of smut

warnings: soft cock play, mentions of lovemaking

a/n: i'm sorry if this sucks, writer's block is being a bitch again! i'm working on the dolly fics and stressing myself out so i tried to just write something for comfort😭🫶🏻

~ Masterlist

A quiet afternoon spent in your lover's embrace is just what you needed after a hectic work week.

The outside world and all the anxieties it brings, slowly melt away into the background as you lay in your soft blankets, right next to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin is soft too, even though he's all muscle and prominent bones, to you he is soft because he brings you comfort.

He's sitting, his back against the pillows, one of his arms behind his head as the other holds the book he's reading.

Your head is on his chest as you hold your book, both of you lost in the fiction but still present enough to enjoy the quiet scene together.

Moments like this are priceless to the both of you, when you can escape everything and just be in your own little comforting bubble.

You put your book down after some time, closing your eyes as you place your hand on Hyunjin's stomach, gently caressing him.

He hums quietly and you look up at him, he's already looking at you with a sweet smile so you return the smile before closing your eyes again.

Hyunjin thinks you'll fall asleep and he doesn't mind, quite the opposite, he loves the fact that both of you are so comfortable together that you can fall asleep in each other's arms.

But you're not sleeping, you're admiring your lover, fingertips caressing the exposed skin of his navel, where his shirt rode up.

You play with the happy trail leading to his sweatpants and Hyunjin shivers a little but keeps reading, the hand that was behind his head is now tangled in your hair as he cards his fingers through it gently.

You love every part of Hyunjin, in any shape or form, you'd told him that a hundred times, your lips have worshipped every inch of his skin countless time as his did with yours, never tired of sharing the love you feel for each other.

You slide down further to rest your cheek against his stomach, sliding his shirt up a little before you nose at his skin and leave a few gentle kisses.

Hyunjin giggles quietly and you look up at him again.

"Just do your thing." you nod at the book and he rolls his eyes playfully before returning his attention to it.

You keep caressing his smooth skin, staring at the bulge that's visible in his sweat pants even when he isn't hard.

You know he's not wearing any boxers, you'd fallen into each other's embrace and made love this morning, and after another round in the shower, your lover didn't bother to put any underwear on.

Mindlessly, your hand slides into his pants and you grab his soft cock, squeezing it a little.

"What are you doing?" Hyunjin chuckles, his legs jolting a little.

"It's just comforting like this." you hold him, running your fingertips gently on the softness.

"Really? But it's soft..." Hyunjin looks a bit embarassed as you look up at his rosy cheeks.

"Mhm. It's cute." your fingers slide down to his balls.

"You did not just call my dick cute." Hyunjin laughs a little as you gently grab his balls and giggle.

"Stress relief." you smirk and he laughs again.

"I'm glad they help you relieve stress but if you keep doing that, it's not gonna stay soft." he smirks at you and you giggle.

"So what?" you wiggle your eyebrows, fingers wrapping around his soft cock again, feeling it twitch a little.

"You wanna go for round three?" he plays with your hair, his loving eyes filling up with lust slowly.

"Maybe." you tease, feeling him grow in your hand as you move it ever so gently.

"Come here, you little tease." he beckons you with his finger and a smirk and you roll your eyes playfully before releasing him as you scoot closer to him.

Hyunjin grabs your face gently pulling you in to crash his lips against yours, giving you a kiss full of love and desire his heart has only for you.

His arms wrap around you as he easily pulls your body on top of his.

You can feel him pressed against your thigh, now hot and hard, wanting you.

He flips you over and smirks.

"Round three it is then."

Later, when he's buried deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix, he will ask you if you still think his cock is cute.

You'll say yes just to tease him, and in that moment of intimacy you will laugh together, completely carefree and infatuated with each other as you exchange words of love.

At the end everything will become soft again, gentle and delicate, just like loving Hyunjin is.

-

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @porangporangmeong @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ۫ ꣑ৎ woe of a hero

"we were just about to leave marmoreal market when the big bad guys blocked our path. they were everywhere!", the boy recounted his story with so much vigor. thankfully, your young patient didn't move too much for you to attend to his sprained ankle.

under your makeshift medical tent, the wounded were resting as they waited for the heirs to provide their needed assistance managing the damage left by nikador's titankins. a lot of building and materialistic goods were affected, but so far, you've only observed minor injuries.

"but then mr. chartonus came and helped us! i wanted to go back but now that my ankle is sprained..".

"chartonus is in a good state, you have nothing to fear", phainon suddenly appeared behind you, and the boy's eyes widened with delight.

"lord phainon!".

you kept your composure but truth be told, you're as delighted as he was, if not more. you've been waiting all day for your lover to stop by with no avail. part of you were happy that perhaps he's not in any urgent need for your care. another part of you were worried sick if something had happened to him.

the boy and his mother excused themselves right after you completed your treatment to find their savior to thank him. now that you had your attention undivided on phainon, you moved to inspect him. but before you get to do anything, phainon grabbed your face by the chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"i wanted to come by sooner. but the market was in a bad shape and i can't just turn a blind eye. tribbie told me you're unharm, but still, i apologise for making you wait".

your legs felt weak. if it wasn't for his strong arms wrapped around your body, you would have fallen. but you managed to shake your head, "i'm glad you're alright".

when you caught what you just said, your attention was pulled back to his state, "did you sustain any injury?". the hero chuckled. he loved how attentive you were to your responsibility even though you could've just bask in each others' presence and forget about the world for a moment.

"i received a few, although nothing too serious. i've patched them up, but it'd be great if you could have a look at the ones on my back. i can't quite reach them by myself". you nodded and rushed to gather a fresh supply of medical equipments. when you returned, your lover was halfway stripping the top part of his clothes, making you jump.

he tilted his head with an unspoken question, and you mentally kicked yourself to recenter your focus on the task at hand.

as you fell into the rhythm of your work, you noticed how phainon had been uncharacteristically quiet. you decided to give him a moment. after all, the holy city that ought to be the safest haven just received a heavy attack. he must be shaken to an extent.

your worry resurfaced when his silence persisted even after you finished. he didn't even notice you've moved yourself to stand in front of him.

gently, you cupped his face in your palms, caressing his skin, careful not to startled him.

"o-oh, hey".

"hey yourself. is everything alright?".

he forced a smile, trying to reassure you that it wasn't concerning enough for you to worry about, but knowing you, you'd probably see pass his deception. he looked away, sighing, "just a few things on my mind".

he stopped himself there, and you took it as a sign that he's not ready to open his worry up to you, yet. it's something you've grown to respect. you couldn't begin to imagine the burden he carries as the prophesised saviour of the world. the least you could do was comfort him, even if just a little bit.

you closed the gaps between the two of you, embracing him close to your heart. "you can confine in me when you're ready. i'll always be here".

he was unresponsive for a moment, letting your words sink in. then, he wrapped his arms around your body. the tightness didn't hurt in any manner, but it's apparent how desperate he was, as if trying not to drown in his own dark thoughts with you as his anchor.

there were a thousand things he could say in reply. he could even began to sing an ode to your love or recite a romantic poem or two (you know by experience he would), but he simply said, "thank you", pressing his face deeper into your embrace. you could feel his lips stretching to form a smile, a peaceful one this time.

your slowly swayed with him still in your hold. relief filled your system to the sound of his laughter which made you smile yourself.

"do you know how much i love you?"

"do enlighten me, if you'd be so kind", you leaned down to meet his lips halfway. this time, he took his time to savour it with only you in his mind.

"i wish i could just stay here", he exhaled. "do you think aglaea will be mad if i'm not out there playing hero?".

"oh i think she'll lose her mind". to that, the both of you shared a laughter.

he excused himself when an elderly women seek your medical assistance, but not before he promised to stop by again later. you watched his wide back, the hero so strong-bodied, yet his heart was so tender. silently, you sent him a prayer for a safe return.

✿ AUTHOR'S NOTE ✿

boy oh boy, this man sure YAPS. anywho, i only managed to watch bits and pieces of the playthrough as of now so please forgive me for any canon details that i missed. i also would like to note that i do not think our beloved snowy is tired of being a hero, just a little overwhelmed at times, so please don't take this too seriously

[likeumeanit9497]

in the clouds | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt is taking y/n home to boston to meet his parents for the first time, and y/n would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. but once they've been in the air for a few hours and boredom begins to get to them both, they find a way to occupy themselves.

warnings: smut; established relationship; mutual masturbation; p in v; dirty talk; a little fluff if you squint; unprotected sex; 18+

notes: i wrote this suuuuper quick so def not my best work, but it's been a while since i posted something so i wanted to get something up here. i hope ya'll enjoy!!!

“Have a great flight.” The lady at the terminal gate said to me with a smile as she handed me my scanned ticket. “Thank you.” I replied before walking towards my boyfriend, Matt, who was waiting for me a few feet ahead. Once I reached him, he grabbed my hand and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “You ready?” He asked, to which I inhaled a deep breath and nodded apprehensively.

Matt and I met at a party about eight months ago, and had hit it off right away. I had been drawn in by his sunken blue eyes and withdrawn behaviour that night, but grew hooked by his kind nature and complex personality once we began speaking regularly. We made it official less than a month after meeting, and had been inseparable since. Our relationship developed into something quite serious rather quickly, but things still somehow felt new and exciting everyday.

Today, we were flying back to his hometown in Boston, where I was going to meet his parents for the first time. Although he had reassured me countless times that MaryLou and Jimmy were going to love me, I couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by meeting two of the most important people in Matt’s life. Not only that, but I had also never been in a relationship that grew serious enough to meet the parents of my significant other before now; so the unknown territory made the whole ordeal all the more daunting.

Matt’s triplet brothers Chris and Nick had left for Boston the day before, as I had to stay in Los Angeles an extra day for work. This added another unsettling element, as I had grown so used to the presence of the other two on a day-to-day basis. However, what that meant was Matt and I had a good excuse to buy first class tickets instead of the usual economy tickets. This brought me some relief, as I had never sat in first class before and knew that I would be able to relax much easier than I had on previous flights.

Arriving at the front of the plane, we were guided by the flight attendant to the fifth row of seats and I gasped. In front of me was a spacious row with just two large seats. The seats were joined together — separated only by an arm rest — but both had a ridiculous amount of leg room, and there was even a privacy curtain available to use at the end of the aisle.

“Oh my god Matt, this one row is almost as big as my entire bedroom at home!” I exclaimed excitedly before hurrying into my window seat. Matt chuckled before following me into the row and getting comfortable in his own seat beside mine. “I take it you like it?” He asked sarcastically, though I still nodded my head like an enthusiastic toddler. “Well, get settled in baby. We’ve got a five and a half hour flight ahead of us.” He leaned over the cushioned arm rest between our seats and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I sighed at the reminder before investigating the small gift bundle beside my seat. There were a few snacks, some travel-sized toiletries, and a pillow and blanket; I couldn’t help but squeal from excitement. “Holy shit Matt! Look at this stuff!” I quickly unfolded the blanket and wrapped myself in it as he did the same. “I know, it’s cool right. And it doesn’t stop there, watch this.” Matt smirked before reaching under his chair, when suddenly his seat reclined all the way back and transformed into a bed.

“WHAT?” I exclaimed before searching under my own seat for the recline handle. I giggled as my chair fell back and I was suddenly horizontal. “Oh my god, I am in heaven.” I sighed blissfully, stretching my arms above my head in bliss. “And look,” Matt continued, reaching for the arm rest and pushing it back so that it became flush with our beds, “Now we just have one big bed to share.” He giggled before scooting closer to my side while simultaneously grabbing my waist and pulling me into him. I laughed and rolled over so that I could face him; propping myself up on my elbow and gazing down at him. “Thank you Matty.” I said before planting a gentle kiss on his eyelid. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/n,” He chuckled, “I just can’t wait for my parents to meet you.” My heart fluttered from his words, and I repositioned my body so that I could curl into his.

“I can’t wait to meet them, either. I mean, I’m nervous as fuck but I really do want to get to know the two people who created you three weirdos.” I closed my eyes, feeling my body relax as the plane began moving down the tarmac. Matt mindlessly rubbed my back as we laughed, just waiting for the unmistakable sensation of the plane taking off.

Once we were finally in the air, I rolled over to fetch my air pods from my backpack. “Let’s listen to some music, I can’t stand all this white noise in here.” I said, handing the left pod to Matt and keeping the right for myself. Once they were secured in both of our ears, I scrolled through my Spotify account to find mine and Matt’s shared playlist before hitting shuffle. I fell onto my back and closed my eyes as the music played in both of our ears; growing more and more comfortable as my eyes grew heavy and the sensation of sleep began to overtake me.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

I was awoken from my deep sleep by the sound of a baby wailing a few aisles behind me. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I woke with a startle before remembering that I was on a plane. Slightly disoriented, I checked the time on my phone to discover that we had been in the air for four hours. I was shocked that I was able to sleep that long on a flight, since usually in the economy seats I would struggle to even get 45 minutes of true rest. I looked to my right at Matt’s sleeping figure. He was lying on his stomach with his peaceful face turned in my direction — very clearly having as deep of a sleep as I was previously having. His dark eyelashes fluttered slightly every now and then, and due to the way his face pressed against the small pillow, his pink lips were squished into an exaggerated pout.

Admiring his undeniable beauty, I had to resist the urge to lean over and pepper him with kisses. Instead, I went on my phone and began scrolling through our music playlist. After queuing a few songs, I moved onto my camera roll to kill some time as I felt boredom begin to overtake me. I felt like the biggest loser ever as I scrolled through the countless photos I had taken of Matt and I over the past few months with a corny smile plastered to my face. We truly had spent nearly every single day together since that first night that we met, and I had been sure to capture as many memories on camera as I could.

I continued to scroll for a few moments before coming across a particular memory that caused me to audibly gasp. It was a video that Matt and I had made about a month before. Our first and only sex tape. Before playing the video, I snuck a glance at Matt to make sure he was still sleeping and turned the volume down to zero so that it wouldn’t play through the air pod that was still resting in his ear. Cautiously, I hit play on the video and watched from Matt’s angle as he pounded into me from behind. To be completely honest, I had totally forgotten that we had taken that video and hadn’t even watched it before, so I stared in awe as our bodies collided again and again. The only issue was that I so badly wanted to hear the audio as my curiosity notoriously got the better of me in situations such as this. I was curious to know what I really sounded like during sex, and knew that listening to the audio was one of the only ways that I could.

Suddenly, I had an idea that would not only allow me to listen but would also have the potential to wake Matt up. Looking at him once again with a smirk across my face, I started the video from the beginning; this time with the volume about halfway up. Instantly, my right ear was filled with the unmistakably erotic sounds of our sex; body parts smacking against one another, loud moans, and the occasional dirty phrase falling from one of our mouths.

With the brightness on my phone turned down low, I watched intently at our moving bodies on my screen. I could only pull my eyes away to take a quick glance at Matt, who was beginning to shift around slightly under the blanket. I watched him for a moment, noticing that his eyes were still closed and he appeared to still be sound asleep. Growing frustrated that he still wasn’t waking up, I turned the sound on my phone to maximum volume just as the recorded version of him and I were reaching our climaxes. The crude noises became more and more erratic as the volume increased, and suddenly Matt’s blue eyes shot open.

He scanned the area frantically, obviously disoriented and confused by the sounds swarming his ears. When his eyes finally met mine and he noticed the playful smile on my face, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Y/n, what the fuck are you watching?” He asked through a chuckle before leaning towards me to take a glance at my phone screen. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” He added once he caught a glimpse of the two of us in the video; falling onto his back and covering his eyes with his crossed arms.

I collapsed into a fit of laughter before innocently replying, “What?”, fluttering my eyelashes and softening my voice. He simply shook his head, but I could see his lips curling into a smile behind his protective arms. “Don’t get me started, baby. Get some rest.” Was his reply, and I grumbled internally. I was far from tired, not only because I had already slept for four hours, but because I had just worked myself up for the past few minutes by watching that video. Still, I reluctantly obliged by hitting shuffle on our playlist once again before finding a comfortable position to attempt to get a bit more sleep.

My eyes were closed, my breathing was steady, but my body was wide awake; so I felt the shift that came from Matt sitting up in the bed. I was laying on my side with my back facing him, but through the soft music playing in my ear I could hear the privacy curtain slide across its rod. My eyes stayed shut as I felt the warmth of his body pressing up against me. I pretended to not feel his hand gently gliding across the curves of my hips, or his hardening member nudging against my thigh. However, once his lips pressed against the sensitive spot on my neck, my body began to fail me in its pretend ignorance. He delicately sucked on my thin skin, and my pulse began to quicken. His cool breath tickled my neck and I shivered in anticipation. His hand slowly traveled from my hip down my stomach, before finally reaching under my waistband towards my core, and I released a shaky breath.

I felt his lips upturn into a smile against my neck at my clear response. “Oh, so you are awake.” He teased, moving his hand away from my heat and resting his chin in the crook of my neck. I opened my eyes to a squint and looked at him. “What are you doing?” I asked with a slight whine in my voice. He scoffed dramatically. “What, you think you could play a video like that and expect me not to get worked up?” I smiled shyly before responding. “I just wanted to wake you. I was bored.” He scooted himself even closer to me, so that now our bodies were pressed tight against each other. “Oh yeah?” He placed a kiss to my neck again, this time tugging lightly at the skin with his teeth. “And what did you want to do to try to counteract this boredom?” He whispered, and my breath hitched as he brought a hand under my shirt and began fondling my sensitive nipples.

I closed my eyes before turning my body so that I was now facing him. “Matt, we are on a plane right now.” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper by the end of my sentence. He smirked before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “That’s what the curtain is for, sweetheart.” My eyes shifted to the space behind him, where the curtain was shut and properly secured by a hook near his head. My focus was brought back to him as I felt his hands gently begin tugging down my sweatpants. “You just have to be quiet for me, okay?” I gulped nervously before nodding my head mindlessly, already growing distracted by the arousal beginning to form in my panties.

Matt pulled me closer to him before placing a soft kiss against my lips. His hand gently ran up and down my inner thigh, just barely grazing my heat with each stroke. He placed another kiss against my lips, this one longer and deeper than the first, and he put his right leg between my knees to prop them up and apart. Our mouths moved against each other in sync, and my hands began to travel through his hair, over his shoulders, and finally down to his stomach. I hissed when he finally cupped his hand over my heat, his thumb just barely resting on my clit. Even through the thin layer of fabric that was my panties, the contact was intense. “Mmm, baby, you’re already so wet for me.” He mumbled gruffly against my lips, causing me to squirm.

“Touch me Matty, please.” I begged softly, my eyes pleading as my core began to throb. He chuckled, our teeth clanking together gently, before attacking my neck with his mouth. “So needy, huh? You want these fingers?” He cooed, sliding two of his fingers — now hooked under my panties — up my slit to collect my juices. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my bottom lip as I nodded frantically. “Mhm.” Was all I managed to get out in response to his question. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He was taunting me, both with his words and with his fingers as he toyed with my outer folds. I squirmed again, shifting slightly so that I was more on my back so that I could widen my legs easier. “N-need your fingers baby.” I managed to groan out, doing my best to keep my voice low so that our actions could go unnoticed by everyone around us.

Now leaning over me slightly, he looked down at me with hooded eyelids and a matching smirk. “That’s my girl.” He replied before finally rubbing circles on my swollen clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I became engulfed in the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation. I opened my eyes to find his traveling across my face. He had clearly been watching me in my state of ecstasy, and his blown out pupils and parted wet lips were clear signs that he was liking what he was seeing. Suddenly, a sharp moan escaped my lips as he plunged two of his fingers into me, and he quickly planted a firm hand over my mouth to prevent any more noises as he curled his fingers in and out of me mercilessly. The sensation became almost too much once he connected the base of his palm to my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his other movements, and almost without thinking I began clawing at the waist band of his sweatpants; desperate to feel more of him.

I pulled his sweats and his boxers down in one swift movement, and immediately began toying with his rock hard cock. Looking up at him as he continued his movements, I brought my hand to my mouth and allowed my collected saliva to drip onto it before bringing it back to his member. I began milking the tip of his cock and immediately noticed a change of pace in his fingers on my cunt. I watched his face as his eyes fluttered shut momentarily and his ears began to grow red. “Fuck, Y/n.” He moaned softly, his words alone enough to drive me crazy. I continued to stroke him, feeling each and every vein along his sizeable shaft, as I felt the familiar tingling sensation of an orgasm fast approaching.

“I-I need more of you Matty. Give me your cock please.” I was really begging now. My legs were beginning to shake and I was close to losing all control, but I wanted to cum around him. I watched as Matt’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as his dick twitched in my hand, a clear sign that my words had an impact on him, too. “Turn on your side.” He commanded, and I immediately obliged. Once I was facing away from him, he wasted no time in lying down beside me — one of his arms wrapped across my chest and massaging my right tit — and sliding his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

We both couldn’t help but release small moans at the satisfying feeling that came from him bottoming out, but he gave me little time to adjust to his size before thrusting into me almost desperately. Using his grasp on my tit, he pushed my back against his chest so that my body was flush with his. “Jesus baby, you’re so tight.” He praised softly, his mouth pressed against my ear as his hips continued to snap against my ass. I couldn’t manage a reply, instead I brought my right hand up to grab onto the back of his neck. I fell into a deep trance from the feeling of my spongey walls stretching and moulding to his cock as if they were two matching puzzle pieces. He left sloppy open mouthed kisses all along my face, growing careless with his movements as the pressure in my lower half began to grow almost unbearable.

“You’re close, aren’t you sweetheart.” He breathed against my hair. I couldn’t do much more than nod my head. “It’s okay, let go. Just be a good girl and stay quiet for me okay?” He used his free hand to once again cover my mouth in anticipation of what might come just as my orgasm bubbled over. I did everything I could to stay silent, but as my orgasm tore through me a plethora of moans fell from my lips and into his gentle hand. My grip on the back of his neck tightened and my back arched away from his torso as I felt the unmistakable warm spurt of fluid stream from my cunt.

Just as I began coming down from my high, Matt released a few short grunts before halting his movements entirely. “Fuuuuck.” His profanity came out in a breathy sigh. His forehead fell to my shoulder, and I could feel his dick pulsating inside of me as he painted my walls with his cum. After a moment, I felt his body relax behind me and he collapsed onto his pillow. For a little while, the only sounds coming from our little corner of the plane was the sound of our ragged breathing as we attempted to regain our composure.

“Well,” Matt eventually began, sitting up and lifting the blanket, exposing the wet spot in the bed that my squirt created, “How are we gonna explain this one?” I took a moment to look at it before sliding my sweats back on. “Easy, we just tell them that you got a little scared of the turbulence and pissed yourself.” He rolled his eyes as he put his pants back on as well, and I laughed. “You’re something else kid.”

Just then, a woman’s voice came from behind the closed curtain. Matt looked at me quickly to ensure that I was fully clothed before opening the curtain and coming face to face with an older flight attendant. “Hi there.” She said, her voice cheerful and her face plastered with a fake smile. “We’re going to be making our landing in Boston in about thirty minutes, please return to an upright position as soon as you can.” Matt nodded his head and gave her a quick smile before she promptly moved down to the next row of flyers. As soon as she was out of earshot, he gave me a cheeky side eye and we both immediately broke into fits of laughter.

“We timed that well.” He said through his laughter and I covered my face with my hands. “I can’t believe we just did that.” I replied, shaking my head as I came to the realization that I had just fucked my boyfriend on a commercial flight. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. “We’re in the mile high club now, baby.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now let’s get our seats back up. Only thirty minutes until you meet my parents!”

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 20: The One Where We Take a Course in Rear Window Ethics

Oh, hey, hey – you’re back!

Yes. I, uh – we need to – uh... What the hell are you doing with that Exakta VX camera fitted with a 400 mm Kilfitt lens?

Come here. See those open windows across the courtyard?

Uh, yeah…

Well, I’m trying to zoom into that apartment –

Wow. Because that’s not creepy as fuck.

Oh, don’t be so modern. This is New York City, 1954. It’s fine.

Yeah, okay. I need you to focus for a moment. Seriously – put down the zoom lens. Headquarters called and wanted to know why Dorothy was still in Oz. You know we were told to take her home.

No – actually we were told to throw stones at that wannabe Wizard. And we did. Kind of. Okay, whatever, but surely you can feel the shift. At the very least we’ve infiltrated the base camp with a bunch of flying monkeys. They’ll take care of the rest. God, there’s one in there –

And we were supposed to help Dorothy find her way back home.

Meh, don’t worry about Dorothy. I don’t think she’s ready to go home. Even after the ping-pong bullshit of the past few weeks, she’s still standing on her own two feet. Although Toto continues to be a mild pain…

But –

But nothing. Dorothy’s had the power to get her own ass home this entire time. When’s she’s ready, she’ll go.

Okay, well, obviously you’re not going to be of any help as you seem preoccupied with spying on your neighbors. So, I’m going to need to borrow the hot air balloon. Where’d you put it?

Oh, it’s on the—wait! If you take our balloon, how am I supposed to get around? I’m not staying here indefinitely. There’s no air conditioning in this damn apartment!

How about I promise to come back for you? Maybe.

Damn you. Fine, I’ll go with you. Let me get my shit together. Here, hold my camera – and don’t drop it!

Hmph, this is heavy. How does it work? I just look through this and… <points camera towards apartment across the way> Oh – this is interesting. What the hell did you say was going on over there? “…[S]tart from the beginning…Tell me everything you saw – and what you think it means.”

You know those days when you have no choice but to catch up on the work you’ve been blowing off for the past few days (maybe even weeks)? Well, last week, I was having one of those days. The work I’d been pushing down my list for weeks finally needed to be addressed. Regardless of how mind-numbing it was, it had to get done otherwise things were going to start going awry.

I’m one of those people who – when working on the mundane – has a mind that tends to wander every few minutes or so. I find myself Googling things like, “What is the fastest animal on the planet?” And, for your own Useless Knowledge, the cheetah’s land speed of 60+ mph doesn’t come close to the peregrine falcon’s dive bomb of 240+ mph.

Anyway, to keep my mind from wandering, I usually have something running in the background to force my brain into paying attention to two things at once – somehow that helps me maintain focus. The most popular “something” is almost always one of the many (quite possibly too many) British detective shows available for streaming. But, the other day, I simply wasn’t in the mood to rewatch Season 3 of “Dalgliesh” for the seventh time.

So, after a bit of scrolling, I put on an old movie I hadn’t seen in years: “Rear Window.”

The 1954 original, of course.

I’m rarely impressed by anything put out by Modern Hollywood, but the old shit – well, there are some legit classics out there, including this one.

One of the reasons I’ve always been fond of this movie is because you go into it knowing the “bad guy” right from the word “go.” I’m one of those extremely annoying people who can guess the villain within the first few chapters of a book, or within the first twenty or so minutes of a movie (like I said, I am rarely impressed by Hollywood). However, I will admit, one book did slip by me. Damn you, Agatha Christie. Honestly, though, the thrill I felt with being wrong was far more memorable than anything I’ve ever felt with being right. Good or bad, a surprise always leaves its imprint, doesn’t it? Plus, the hysterical elation my father must have felt – and later exhibited – knowing I was going into the final few chapters wrong – well, damn him, too. And, no, the book was not “Three Act Tragedy.” That one was quite easy.

Okay, enough about Ms. Christie. Back to Mr. Hitchcock.

As I sat busily typing away and listening to the dialogue of “Rear Window” playing in the far reaches of my office, it suddenly occurred to me that the parallels between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom were rather, well, thought-provoking. Here we have a man (and later his sidekicks) peering into the personal life of another human being. Our protagonist in “Rear Window” witnesses an event (a cover-up, actually) and sets out to prove it – all from the perspective of an onlooker looking in. Sound familiar? I thought it might.

So, welcome to your course on “Rear Window Ethics.”

Now, I cannot intertwine “Rear Window” with the Lukola fandom without dragging your ass into the story. Actually, I could – but it’s far more entertaining for me (and hopefully you) if I form a nexus between you and the movie.

Therefore, you, of course, get to align yourself with L.B. Jefferies (played in real life by Jimmy Stewart). If you’re still in this fandom, it’s because you’ve witnessed something you simply cannot ignore and you’re almost certainly hellbent on proving it at this point.

It’s very likely most of you entered the Lukola fandom alone. You watched some portion of the World Tour and became intrigued. Your mind began to wander, which sparked some urge in you to do some digging. Eventually your investigation led you to the Devil – sorry, I mean, social media. There you met like-minded junior investigators, and you’ve now found yourself chatting with these newfound friends and theorizing in the burrows of underground group chats.

So, about your sidekicks…

The part of “Stell-aaaaaa!!!!” (yes, that is my hat-tip to Jake) is given to your most “inventive” Lukola friend. You know, the one that has their own “theories” channel in your private chats; the one who scurries down the rabbit hole – not in search of the White Rabbit – but in search of the Cheshire Cat. Stella is the reason you think outside the box. In “Rear Window,” Stella (played by Thelma Ritter) is Jefferies’ nurse (Jefferies is injured and bound to his apartment; hence why he has so much free time to gaze out the rear window). This friend will throw anything and everything against the wall to see what sticks – even if it occasionally takes a deep-dive into how to cut up a body in a bathtub.

Next, we have Detective Doyle, Jefferies’ long-time friend (played by Wendell Corey). Doyle is quite possibly your spouse, haha, or anyone who side-eyes your involvement with this fandom. Doyle half listens to Jefferies’ theories and usually counters Jefferies with an alternative piece of evidence. But don’t fret, although Doyle teases Jefferies about his wild theories throughout the film, Doyle is, in fact, supportive of Jefferies and does comes around in the end.

I’m going to switch gears for a moment but not before acknowledging that, yes, I am aware I’m missing a player here. Don’t worry – she will arrive shortly.

Alright, on to our subject matter: Lars Thorwald.

Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr) is our straight-outta-Hitchcock-baddie who has been spotted by Jefferies trying to cover up the murder of his wife. The obvious parallels I’m going to draw between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom are (1) Thorwald’s crime being equivalent to the World Tour and everything that has happened thereafter, and (2) Jefferies’ obsession with proving Thorwald is guilty being comparable to the fandom’s obsession with proving Lukola is real.

Now, I’m going to get the ball rolling by fast-forwarding through the World Tour all the way up to where I last left you – the post-release of “Mis-Directed.” Recall that shortly before the book’s release, in a surprise turn of events, Luke appeared with Antonia at the Boss event held January 30. However, this was almost immediately negated by Luke snubbing Antonia post-event (and perhaps even more shockingly, Antonia’s mirrored lack of acknowledgement of Luke). And try as Nicola might, there’s no skirting around the innuendo made throughout that fan-fic of a book.

“Watson! Get up! There’s fuckery afoot!”

Who the hell are you?

I’m Dad. Who are you?

Ah, not that guy!

Yes, that guy. Of course, Dad has entered the room. After all I needed someone to fill the role of Lisa Fremont (also known as Grace Kelly). Lisa is your Lukola friend with the highest degree of common sense. She takes the “evidence” presented and looks at it with some realism. She is never going to take the Dwight Shrute Route and state something as “Fact,” but she is the one you rely on to delineate between what makes sense and what doesn’t. In short, this is your friend who understands human nature.

Alright, before I really get this ball rolling –

Since I’ve now added a third wheel (Dad) to the back-and-forth dialogue of my two wizard-chasing-balloon-riding-time-traveling-narrators, I suppose I should also give these two imbeciles names.

You first.

Uh, well, I’m Charley and that’s –

I’m Crowd.

Full credit for these two make-believe idiots is given to my dad. He created the personas of “Charley and the Crowd” for my two nieces a few years ago. They would show him their dolls and my dad would narrate what was going on in their stories. Of course, my nieces regularly corrected him with, “No, Papá, that is not what Barbie is doing!” Still, Charley and the Crowd stuck around, playing the role of two, usually counter-productive and sometimes ignored, news anchors at a Macy’s Day Parade-like event hosted by my nieces’ massive collection of L.O.L. Dolls.

And just for clarity’s sake, during the dialogue between Charley, Crowd, and Dad, actual statements made by Dad will be in quotations. Any statement not in quotations was added simply to move the story along.

Let’s begin (finally).

In “Rear Window,” every time Jefferies and his sidekicks present their findings to Detective Doyle attempting to prove Thorwald’s guilt, they are thwarted by evidence discovered by Doyle’s investigation. It’s a constant back-and-forth throughout the movie; however, regardless of how “solid” Doyle’s evidence is that Anna Thorwald is still alive, Jefferies remains sat on the hill that Thorwald killed his wife. It was this parallel – not the peeping Tom aspect of the movie – that piqued my interest last week. No matter what was thrown at him, Jefferies remained steadfast in his opinion Thorwald murdered his wife. Nothing budged him. I realized Jefferies’ level of resilience mirrored every diehard Lukola’s reaction to every piece of contradictory evidence thrown at them. Nothing budges them.

The tail-end of January and all of February was a bit wild in the Lukola fandom. I mean, there were a lot of narratives being thrown around only to be counteracted by another event. As I mentioned earlier, we ended January with the Boss event but that flame was quickly extinguished by Luke and Antonia’s complete lack of follow-up. Luke had the perfect opportunity to make it “official” with Antonia – to finally shut down the Lukola shippers – but he didn’t.

Crowd: Antonia not doing anything with it is the biggest tell, in my opinion.

I’m not going to spend much time rehashing the Boss event because I already discussed it in Entry 18 (link below), but I will touch on two things that I believe deserve an Honorable Mention.

The first being –

Charley: Why didn’t Antonia have her phone or even a handbag at the Boss event?

I mention this little detail because it was echoed at the BAFTA afterparty Luke attended with Antonia on February 16. In fact, I suspect this may be the modus operandi when Antonia attends an event with Luke – she is not given the opportunity to have a phone with her. One would think, at the very least, you would see Antonia entering and/or leaving an event with some kind of handbag or clutch. But we have pictures of Antonia entering both the Boss event and BAFTA afterparty without one. I will acknowledge we don’t see her leave these two events; however, if we rewind time, Antonia does not have a handbag with her during Papsmear.

Dad: “Well, that’s extremely odd.”

I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before – at least not on this blog – that my dad has an eye for women’s fashion. My sisters and I grew up under his critical eye and, to this day, my father doesn’t know where he went wrong with my older sister. This is entirely why he was given the part of Lisa Fremont, the movie’s style icon in the form of Grace Kelly. The fact that Antonia is never seen with any type of handbag at these events sparked his interest.

Dad: “[It seems] they [at a minimum Luke] wanted complete control [of what Antonia could take away from the event]. No handbag. Nowhere to hide a phone. No rogue pictures floating about.”

Charley: Yes, it does seem that way.

The second event I wanted to mention was – although neither Luke nor Antonia liked the Boss grid post of the two of them entering that event together – Nicola did. Now, this wasn’t an immediate like. In fact, Nicola waited almost two weeks to like the post, on February 12.

Crowd: The day before Nicola went back and liked that post, that video was being dissected across social media.

Dad: Why?

Charley: Because it was suggested Luke said, “Let’s get this done,” as he walked inside the event with Antonia.

Dad: “I don’t hear shit.”

I will admit, when this video was initially sent to me, I didn’t hear anything except the background noise. However, when I was told what was allegedly being said, I was able to hear it. This very well could be the power of suggestion but the timing of Nicola’s like on this post is, at a minimum, noteworthy.

Once we leave the Boss event, we stumble right into “Mis-Directed.” I’ll post the links to my review of that book at the end. It is what it is – and it’s a whole lot of…umm, yeah…maybe Dad said it best.

Dad: “Either your Lukola thing is real, or Ireland is a psychopath.”

Crowd: Seriously, who let this guy in here?

I’m going to have to hard agree with my dad on this one. Not necessarily about Nicola being a “psychopath,” but the references made in the book are too on the nose for it not to be intentionally Lukola- and/or Polin-coded.

I’m also convinced this book was edited after the World Tour, with the most obvious example of this being demonstrated with the quote: “The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.” If our duo is to be believed, Luke and Nicola had no idea prior to the World Tour that the fandom would go wild over Colin’s fingers. But after the release of Part 1, any mention of “two raised fingers” would send the fandom into a feeding frenzy. And it’s such an extremely random bit of innuendo, I have trouble believing the author came up with it on her own.

Charley: When you think about it, if Antonia hadn’t shown up at the Boss event, the Lukola fandom would have taken the book as confirmation that Lukola was real.

Indeed, a hefty portion of the fandom would have done just that. The fandom was already convinced that Luke and Nicola spent the holidays together – even without direct evidence – because there was evidence that Luke and Nicola did not spend the holidays with Antonia and Jake, respectively.

Antonia appeared to be with family at Christmas and in the Maldives over New Year’s – without making even the slightest insinuation that Luke was with her.

Jake seemingly spent the holidays with Dylan B., as demonstrated by his pre-Christmas stories with Dylan in their (basically) adjacent hometowns – without Nicola, who, by her own account, was in Galway. Jake and Dylan’s Christmas stories were followed up with their jointly hosted New Year’s Eve party – at which Nicola was not present (as evidenced by Nicola’s comment to an attendee’s New Year’s Eve post: “Have the best night miss yous”).

Dad: “It is weird they [Nicola and Jake / Luke and Antonia] wouldn’t spend any of the holidays together. One? Sure, maybe. But all? No.”

But, even with that statement, my dad chose to play the role of Detective Doyle (a/k/a the Devil’s Advocate of “Rear Window”) regarding the holidays because –

Dad: “Misty [Antonia] was with her dance troupe. Jake was with his friends. Ireland was doing her thing. But no one knows where Thang [Luke] was. Everyone else has a trail except him, which is odd. He could have been with Ireland, but you can’t prove it, so what you have is not really evidence.”

Charley: Thanks, Dad.

But, let’s face it, my dad is right. There’s no solid evidence that Luke and Nicola spent their holidays with each other or anyone else. You can apply the same theory to the birthdays. The only “evidence” we have that two people did not spend a birthday together was Jake posting a belated birthday greeting to Nicola followed by Nicola posting what appeared to be an intimate birthday dinner for two, presumably from the night before. We can surmise Nicola’s birthday date was not Jake, otherwise he would not have posted the late greeting.

About Jake’s birthday –

Crowd: Oh, yeah, “hard launch No. 54” because Nicola used a red heart in her birthday story to him.

Charley: You mean the same one she used in a story for another friend just the other day?

Crowed: Yep.

Dad: “I don’t know what to say about those people [the Jakolas]. They need to resubmerge or something. There’s no relationship there [between Jake and Nicola].”

The Jakolas are banking this “hard launch” on the fact Nicola posted a birthday story for Jake, but not for Luke, and vice versa. These are the same people who will argue that Luke and Antonia not posting about each other’s birthdays is because they’re private – but, in the same breath, refuse to acknowledge Luke and Nicola may not post about each other’s birthdays because they’re private.

I believe it’s worth mentioning that no one from the Bridgerton cast except James Phoon posted about Nicola’s birthday on January 9. When Nicola acknowledged her birthday greetings the day after, she did not repost Phoon’s story nor did she repost fan-favorite JVN’s birthday story. And I should have placed bets on this next part – no one from the Bridgerton cast posted about Luke’s birthday on February 5. Surely, I’m not the only person who saw – and anticipated – the comraderie there.

What the Jakolas should have been focusing on with Jake’s birthday was the fact that it was Dylan and Becky’s boyfriend that were wearing matching “Jecky” shirts at their joint birthday party. No one else had that shirt except for the two people believed to be their significant others. Although I’m not fully convinced Jake is dating Dylan, I am one hundred percent convinced Jake would date Dylan over Nicola.

Charley: What’s next?

Crowd: God, there was so much shit going on in February! Uhh, let’s jump to Valentine’s Day. Nicola attended the IFTA’s with her mother and sister, and Luke attended a GQ dinner event alone.

This holiday follows in the same vein as the previously noted holidays, except it’s Nicola and (amazingly!) Luke that are both accounted for. Jake was presumed to be in Sheffield rehearsing for his play; and Antonia was nowhere to be found, not even at the GQ dinner.

However, Antonia does make a brief reappearance at a BAFTA afterparty alongside Luke on February 16.

Crowd: But it was a repeat of the Boss event. The next day, neither acknowledged the other.

Charley: And Luke was reported to have left the party after only an hour – without Antonia. He even posted a picture of himself getting into a car alone.

Dad: To me, “[i]t seems like Thang took his dog [Antonia] for a walk and left her at the dog park.”

Two days later, Luke – actually out for a walk – is papped getting coffee, alone. Is it horrible of me to say that the most exciting thing about these pictures was the untucked versus tucked shirt? I’m not even sure why I’m taking the time to mention this except I felt there would be some side-eye if I did not.

And to be honest, I’ve left out some details and minor events from the months of January and February because, if I were to add them, this post would be twice as long as it already is. For example, don’t get me started on sunburns, tan lines, and “sunny places.”

If we were in the movie, “Rear Window,” everything stated up until this point would run parallel to the back-and-forth between Detective Doyle and our Trio of Peeping Toms. Evidence is presented by the Trio, which is then countered by Doyle. Doyle’s evidence is dismissed by the Trio because, again, they’re hellbent on proving their case, so they continue theorizing and digging into Thorwald. All that leads up to the movie’s climax.

Charley: Have we finally made it to the SAG?

Crowd: Yes, yes, we have.

Charley: Dad – Dad – wake up!

Dad: Huh?

Alright, the fucking SAG awards. This would be about the point in “Rear Window” where Lisa gets caught by Thorwald rifling through his belongings in search of evidence. We’re in the audience biting our nails because Jefferies can’t do a damn thing to help Lisa except watch everything unfold. And that’s what we did with the SAG awards. The entire Lukola fandom was hyper-focused on Luke and Nicola – and they did not disappoint.

Forget all the drama we endured from the sideshow characters and the nonsense that came with them.

Forget Luke being AWOL for six months.

Forget everything except the “hug heard ‘round the world.”

The ice was broken; the champagne was flowing. Luke and Nicola’s joint SAG appearance was like the World Tour on steroids.

Dad: Can I say something?

Crowd: Fuck. What?

Dad: “It was their season, right? So, their joint appearance on the red carpet wasn’t earth shattering. Neither was them sitting together. It was their night to celebrate.”

Crowd: Who invited this wet blanket to the party?

Dad: I wasn’t done. “Their season has run its course, right? They’ve ‘graduated.’ So why are they the focus of mainstream media?”

Charley: <thinking> Because there’s something newsworthy there?

That is your climax. Not their SAG appearance – because everyone can have their own interpretation of Luke and Nicola’s behavior and those interviewers’ Q&A’s – it was the mainstream media going ga-ga over Luke and Nicola that sent the Lukola narrative tumbling out the window. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll understand that reference.

By the following day, Luke and Nicola were everywhere. I genuinely appreciate the “Librarians” of the private group chats – those people who track and record every single post, story, like, non-like, follow, unfollow, literally everything – their job was grueling last week. The Sincerely Ignorant Lukolas who jumped ship months ago were frantically trying to climb back on board, while the Jakolas were desperately trying to find their Dramamine. The Defectors went silent except to remind their hive of hornets not to worry; that they will get “a reminder soon…”

Charley: A reminder of what?

Crowd: Oh, that there are two side characters floating about.

Well, lo and behold – right on schedule – a random picture of Luke and Antonia in an elevator surfaced the day after the SAG awards. The problem with the picture was that it was dismissed by Lukolas almost immediately. The account that dropped the picture on X was suspicious. Antonia’s hair and clothing seemed “so last year.” The Lukolas were far more focused on Luke and Nicola liking anything and everything to do with the SAG that day than to pay any attention to the “same old song and dance” about Antonia. Even Nicola liking Jake’s very bland “Nicola” comment on her grid post was dismissed with a “shooing” wave of the hand and an uninterested half laugh.

On February 25, the “insinuation” pictures were at it again. In fact, it was a rather busy day. An event host posted a picture of what appeared to be Antonia perfectly centered at an L.A. hotel pool. The story was reposted by the hotel itself. In fact, that’s the only reason the picture was found by the fandom. A new elevator picture of Luke and Antonia dropped; however, it, too, was dismissed fairly quickly, regardless of it being dropped by a different, less dubious X account. The Lukolas just didn’t give a fuck about Antonia. Luke was the subject of a blind that insinuated he had spent most of his time at the SAG looking in a mirror. And the evening was rounded out by something that would have rocked the boat in June 2024 but had little effect in February 2025 – Nicola followed Antonia on Instagram and vice versa!

Oh, shit – Jefferies just lost his grip and fell out the “Rear Window.” But he didn’t die! So, that’s a plus.

The following day, February 26, Antonia started to remove tags from her Instagram account including the “Soho” New Year's 2024 picture of Luke and his friend group, which included Antonia. And Nicola responded to the “mirror” blind about Luke with “I can confirm this is 100% not true [laughing/crying emoji].” So, interestingly, we had Antonia backing further away from Luke and Nicola stepping up to defend him.

Crowd: So, where do we go from here?

That’s a good question. The thing I’ve learned through this “course” is that the Lukolas are now unmoved by the shenanigans happening around them. You can serve Antonia to them on a silver platter, and they’ll flag down the waiter and ask them to return her to the kitchen. And you won’t find Jake anywhere on their menu (hence why I didn’t even bother to mention Jake’s play).

Dad: I think “the whole thing has run its course.”

It really has. The Lukolas are tired but unyielding. At this point, they just want their version of Thorwald to confess. The narratives running parallel to each other (i.e., Lukola vs. Jakola vs. Lutonia) can’t go on much longer. One of them is going to crack under the pressure.

Remember, “Three can keep a secret…”

P.S.

Dad: “Is Ireland still wearing that ring?”

Me: Yes.

Dad: “Then why did you call me?”

Me: <deep sigh>

[gabbiecasso]

Just me and my reflections on Shikatema

I've been weirdly hyperfixated recently on Shikamaru and Temari, and so I reflected a lot just to properly dissect the reasons myself because I initially couldn't really understand why I liked them when I was really young, more so as an adult (and as demi/ace) LOL so imma yap

As a demi, I've always struggled with romance themes. I always subtly feel like my circuits are frying when I watch anything romance or I often just plainly feel indifferent. Thankfully I managed to spot a few patterns by spending a lot of time in my head; one of them is that I prefer romance when it's not under the spotlight (idk I noticed I always prefer the side pairs more than the main pairs in any story HAHA) I guess that was one of the categories that Shikatema falls under.

I spent more than a decade watching/reading Naruto and it was enough time for me to have a close affinity with these characters and love them for creating such a huge impact in my childhood without the heavy emotional flairs that Naruto and the rest of characters put upfront. They ultimately became my two favorite characters in the series because I share the same traits and tendencies as them. It also wasn't a surprise that two of my favorite characters ended up together because their relationship was slowly developed and it didn't come off like shocking news.

Unlike the other pairs in Naruto where it seems to have characters fixating on someone or characters overshadowing the other, Shikatema operate on a level playing field. They're each strong leaders and strategists in their own right, both competent enough to recognize each other's strengths. They don't feel the need to change the other nor prove their worth. They're their own person and it clearly shows early in the series and even as it progresses to Shippuden.

I personally dislike being the center of anyone's attention or constantly feeding someone attention so I gravitate more to people who are deeply more passionate about purpose/duty/service/something more than about me and my presence. Shikatema has that dynamic where their relationship feels more like a partnership than a romance based on dependency. They both have important (political) roles in their own respective villages, and they know their purposes and the weight that they carry very well—which prolly explains why both are self-sufficient, independent, and capable. They both take their duties seriously and you don't see a scene where one craves for the other's attention (it’s funny how actively and arduously they work on their duty while in each other’s presence so you can definitely say they were literally there for (and with) each other as they fulfilled their roles as diplomat escort/advisor and diplomat/royalty)

Another that I value DEEPLY to my core is individuality, and I've always adored how Shikamaru and Temari preserve their individuality while still thriving together. It's one of the main factors why they see each other as equals and why none of them overpowers the other.

Shikamaru, laid-back and often understated, complements Temari’s directness and assertiveness. His relaxed demeanor helps her stay grounded and objective rather than just taunting in combat or in general LMFAO

Meanwhile, Temari, who is confident and comfortable taking charge, gives Shikamaru's abilities more buoyancy—she openly calls out his BS and he welcomes it because he knows how unassuming, and, at times, self-deprecating he can be. He never seeks the spotlight and often downplays his own abilities and it's where Temari's outspokenness fits the bill (this energy is also quite evident in Shikamaru Hiden)

Both characters also challenge gender norms (I'm inclined to believe that their characters' subtle sexism when they were first introduced in the series was part of the writing, there is an active discussion about this somewhere and I genuinely believe it has its purpose) Young Shikamaru yaps about her being too troublesome because she's incessantly outspoken/spunky. Young Temari yaps about him being too emotional because he didn't seem to receive emotional training.

Yet in the long run, Shikamaru's honesty and vulnerability allow Temari to soften up and witness the act of kindness by someone who wears his heart on his sleeve (which was first seen during the Sasuke retrieval arc at the hospital where Shikamaru had an emotional breakdown) and Temari's unwavering strength and energy nudges Shikamaru into action when he might otherwise hesitate (Temari often banters with him to make him commit to his decisions and not spend too much time in his head)

Both characters also have innate leadership. I noticed that one of my main attraction points is leadership (as an act of service girlie) and these two have that strong nature: Shikamaru leads with his introspective nature, while Temari leads with her assertive nature.

It was evident first during the Chunin exams when they were pitted against each other—both read their opponents exceptionally well and they both show a strong sense of battle awareness while keeping their cool and executing their strategies effectively. It's no surprise that Shikamaru was promoted Chunin and Temari was promoted Jonin & Ambassador (it wasn't clear when Temari was promoted, but in the early episodes of Shippuden, she was already a Jonin & Ambassador who frequently visits Konoha) They both learned to grow as leaders who first serve their people before themselves in their respective villages and it stretches further during the war arc where they serve not just people from their respective villages but the entire Alliance.

Both were also Chunin exam proctors, so ain't that great LOL I think it was one of the many factors why I never doubted their parenting (and Shikadai did grew up to be such a fine and disciplined shinobi with a strong moral code) Both did seem to question each other's parenting styles since Temari favors intense training while Shikamaru advocates leisure (which I believe is a great balance) but both parents have fostered Shikadai's agency; allowing him to come up with his own conclusions and decisions based on his critical thinking because both Shikamaru and Temari share the same values in their youth.

In the series, high intensity emotions are almost always present in every relationship but their relationship has a subdued nature—They don't need long stretches of dialogues to understand each other because all they needed was experiences, and a little observation and deduction.

They didn't need to prove their worth to each other (or to anyone honestly) because it's built on deep understanding rather than overt passion. Altho it had a different interpretation in the manga, both characters even agree that marriage is troublesome LOL (but welp)

Last one is that both are strategists. Chess is my sport and puzzles/tactical games that require mental effort has always been my comfort, I guess it's natural for me to gravitate to these two. (I like any strategic characters who also wear their heart on their sleeve)

They also approach strategy differently: Shikamaru’s intellect makes him highly logical and analytical, often relying on foresight to plan for every possible outcome. Temari is a decisive, action-oriented strategist; often has the courage to commit to a decision quickly. She also heavily thinks on the fly to understand an opponent's motive and naturally adapts.

This was again exhibited during the Chunin exams where Shikamaru's strategic skills allowed him to use his environment to his advantage while Temari displayed her adaptability and quick-thinking capabilities to counter Shikamaru's offenses since she's a heavy thinker herself.

Temari may not be as exceptionally creative as Shikamaru but she highly values intel, reason, and logic in order to come up with a counter. This was exactly the reason why her battle with Shikamaru was further stretched; up to the point where Shikamaru exhausted his chakra.

I deeply adore how both characters value planning, precision, and patience in combat while other characters in the story value power, tenacity, and speed. Irl, I value the same set of values as Shikatema in chess/games/puzzles and so I guess it’s no surprise. I get to just admire the intellectual aspect of their relationship where it allows them to not just connect emotionally but also challenge each other mentally in every screen time they had.

Thanks for coming to my yapping thread if you ever made it in the end LOL

[night-raven-tattler]

Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』