#my phd thesis on this coming soon

[dreamaboutwhathappens]

if i had a nickel for every time taylor swift incorporated circus vibes into her concert performance of a career-defining heartbreak album, i’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but—

[grimesgirll]

can you do rickyl x reader where she gets jealous and gives them attitude🙏

ninety-eight hours it’s been since rick and daryl left for what was supposed to be a “dry” supply run.

another hour and you think you’re going to simply die from the wanton ache in your cunt and the paranoia creeping with every passing minute.

you hate when they go away. it’s the worst. but it’s what your lovers have to do if your community wants amoxicillin and food that‘s not canned peas or tuna. the only bigger drag than you losing out on a few nights of getting the stress fucked out of you and mornings with tender wake up calls; that cool new girl went with them.

just a few weeks ago, daryl and aaron had discovered a former phd student wandering the outskirts of shenandoah national park. the twenty-eight year old had been walking from her biology program in new jersey in an attempt to reach her family’s house in norfolk, virginia.

back to alexandria, she brought a backpack, some stories, and a green haze to your vision.

within a week, you’re wishing daryl and aaron hadn’t brought her back. the worst part is that you really can’t speak on it with anyone because you’ll sound like a jealous bitch, which you kinda are. it’s not your fault that you don’t know shit about how to age a deer or microorganisms or macroinvertebrates or interesting biology major jargon that gets rick and daryl’s attention.

you didn’t finish your degree. the apocalypse had made sure of that. yeah, this girl’s thesis defense had been cancelled but she already had two degrees and a fucking certificate.

yeah, daryl doesn’t have a degree. but this girl’s family grew up hunting - proud turkey hunters, she’d specified after daryl asked her about her turkey shotgun. they hit it off so well that she’d even gone on a few hunts with him. you refused to eat the pheasant she shot. when she came into your kitchen proudly touting a half butchered boar, you simply narrowed your eyes, turned to rick next to you, and asked if you should take chances eating wild boar meat after the prison.

let’s just say you can’t stand her.

it’s not rational and it’s surely not healthy but you can’t bring yourself to address it in any meaningful way. all you can do is smolder. and that’s exactly what you do when rick and daryl come through the gates, fully engaged in a conversation with her.

“find what you need?”

you’re walking up to the three as soon as they pass you. rosita had been chatting you up and you assumed that your boys would come over and greet you with at least a kiss but no! they’re walking past you with her. the perfect, perpetually prepared girlscout that makes you want to tear your hair out.

two twin pairs of blue eyes find yours and daryl’s eyes are overflowing with longing, but before they can even say hello, she’s in your face, greeting you and handing off some seed packets she’d found

what a bitch.

almost turning your nose at her, you instead decide to accept the packets without a thank you. you make a beeline straight for rick, leaning up on your tippy toes to capture his tongue, wrapping an arm around his neck to lower him into your embrace. every ounce of waiting and wanting is spilled onto rick’s lips. you kiss him a bit too fervently for a welcome back kiss at your community’s gates. it’s an abuse of power on your part.

it’s dramatic. it’s theatrical.

it’s just as bad when you do the same thing to daryl, attaching yourself to his side as the newest addition to alexandria clears her throat and continues on about the supplies they managed to secure on their “dry” run. specifically, some supplies for her to try to solo it again - but this time - finally land in norfolk. you know that rick and daryl were out there - away from you - for more than just some glorified grad student’s get home bag but every second that she drones on has you yearning for her to pack her bags tonight.

“so, once my wrist is fully healed. i’ll be out of here.”

“thank god!”

rick’s eyebrow raises and if daryl could go quieter, he would.

the walk back to your house alone in alexandria is awkward.

the scene you’d caused had rick giving you a look that told you if you didn’t quit digging now, you’d end up in a trench of conflict. not just being at odds with the newcomer, but rick’s lack of patience for this kind of behavior from you. that doesn’t stop you from starting again as soon as they enter the bedroom.

“neither of you came over to say hi to me when you got in the gates.”

it’s the first thing out of your mouth once the door has shut. your arms are folded over your chest and you’re glaring at them like you didn’t just put on a grand display and snub the girl staying down the street. eyes focused on them, you’d be hard pressed to tell that you even could even name the other girl.

“so you’re gonna skim past talkin’ to her like that?” rick’s giving you that same you can’t be serious look he sends your way when you’re brattin’ out like this.

“i said my thoughts out loud. sorry.”

“ain’t you got no filter?”

“no, daryl,” you reply, looking up at them from the soft bed. your hands dig into the mattress. “that overnight “dry” run turned into the entire weekend and the first thing you guys do is stroll in with her and not say hi.”

“why do you care so much? she’s leavin’ soon.” daryl reminds you, fighting a yawn.

you frown. “you guys relate to her more.”

rick guffaws and daryl’s eyes are rolling.

“what? you think she’s flirtin’ knowin’ how to catch herself a fuckin’ meal.”

“but she’s older than me.”

“not by much, honey,” rick dismisses your concern.

the downtrodden look on your face is unmistakable. you’re quiet, considering how to justify your jealousy when you feel a tear coming on. daryl notices when you try to blink it away and is the first to drop the bone the two were picking with you. he’s next to you, a hand on your waist and your thigh, and that’s when you exhale in frustrated, exasperation, “you were gone for four days and you couldn’t even say hi to me.” you’re shaking your head, knowing it’s dumb. “its not nice but it just got me so angry.” you almost omit this last part but the borderline law enforcement stare you’re receiving from rick has you candid. “i just needed you guys to come up and kiss me - or something after not knowing if you were alive or not. the run went too long. got me worked up.”

“and you think you deserve to get fucked first thing after pullin’ that shit?”

you bite your lip. rick can read you too well. really, there’s nothing to discuss.

did you really think they would lose interest in you that easily? or is this just a ploy to work them up too? to cash in on the good, hard fucking you know they’d subject you to if you turned up your brat factor for their return. it’s downright devious but who are they to deny the smoldering opportunity falling in their laps?

“can you be a good girl?”

you nod, not breaking eye contact as he slips his thumb into your mouth while undoing his pants with the other hand. “maybe we can get this to do somethin’ useful, huh?”

daryl stays quiet but the smirk as he watches you lick rick clean tells you that he has an idea. he’s full of ideas, most of which involve stuffing you full in some capacity but just from bud reaction to the scene that unfolded, you know he’s in a teasing mood. too feverous and on the same page as rick about your jealousy to give you the fucking you want straight away.

there’s probably a bit more of explaining that you need to do but when rick says, “hands and knees,” you’re forgetting all about the better educated woman and getting into place on the plush bed. the brief scowl on your face can’t be missed but it doesn’t matter because you automatically open your mouth wider once you’re faced with rick’s too-big-for-your-mouth cock.

you’re so focused on rick that the stripe being licked down your slit from behind has you choking on rick in surprise. the constable groans at your tight throat clenching around him.

“missed this pussy,” daryl’s gruff voice against your cunt brings you back to reality. the reality where he’s flicking his tongue over your already aching, swollen bud.

so that’s what that tear was, you deduce, suddenly aware of your missing panties.

“you’re overthinkin’,” rick says says with a hand in your hair. “you belong to us. we belong to you.”

“yeah, no new girl’s gonna come between us.” daryl assures you, breathing lust into your cunt. “gotta get out of yer’ fuckin’ head.” daryl chimes, not even giving his tongue a break when it wasn’t on your clit. “i finally get someone with a brain to go huntin’ with and your first thought is that i wanna fuck ‘em.”

rick smirks down at you, mouth too stuffed full of cock to deny any of it. he runs a hand through your hair and eases up on your throat, growing impossibly harder at the sight of his thick dick against your glossy, shining lips. a hand finds your chin and his cock falls from your mouth. “you better not forget that you’re made for us. don’t want no one else but you.” his cock jumps at the way your pupils grow from his lust induced speech. “you’re ours. that pussy’s in the shape of our cocks. beautiful brain’s all wrapped up in us, like we’re wrapped up in you.”

you could cream at his words. any minute you’re going to on daryl’s tongue. back as forth, the younger man is sliding his tongue all over your clit. he even dips the appendage inside of you to tongue around and spur rick into thrusting his cock back into your mouth so he can enjoy your needy whimpers around him.

“so fuckin’ good for us, baby. like she never could be.” rick huffs, chocolate curls falling back with his head.

all you can do is moan around him in response. daryl doesn’t let you process rick’s words because you’re too busy processing the overload of pleasure he’s inducing in you. you writhe back against him, canting your hips into his mouth just as rick twitches in yours.

your hips are bucking and you almost fall forward on rick when daryl triggers your toe curling release, savoring in the ooze as he laps your weeping cunt. tears well at your waterlines with rick’s cock bulging in the cheeks of your mouth. those tears spill with the rush of energy in your cunt. spasming and clenching, leaking onto the devoted tongue seeing you through.

“hope this holds you over,” rick remarks, pulling his still aching cock out of your mouth while glancing over at daryl happily cleaning up your release with his tactful tongue. “‘cause you’re gonna’ be sore after tonight, darlin’. whatever you need to get it in that pretty little head of yours that you’re ours, and don’t need to worry about anything or anyone else.”

as your first orgasm of the night fades and the shaking in your legs pauses, there’s a post-climax clarity that hits you like a truck. you’d be face down on the bed trying to pretend you didn’t exist if not for the hands eliciting the most vibrant whinnies from you, twisting your pleasure receptors like play-doh. you’re not far from coming again and that’s the only thing saving you from the shame of how you treated the newcomer. it wasn’t kind. wasn’t rational. treating her so poorly because of how well she worked with your men. greek gods killed insolent hosts who disrespected their guests, what would rick and daryl do to you for snubbing one of the last polite people on this rotting rock?

being well rounded isn’t a crime, you remind yourself.

and your men don’t need to remind you again with words how much you mean to them. that your jealousy is unfounded but they want to kiss you better anyway. it doesn’t matter if it takes all night, they’ll be reminding you exactly where and who they want to be with.

with you being made for them, how could they want anyone else?

[reiderwriter]

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

[despacito-uwu16]

IN THE PAST AND IN EVERY LIFETIME

KENJI SATO X READER

|Fluff |Past Life

“And if death do us part, I promise to find you in every lifetime” - Alex Warren

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Your fiance kisses your forehead while he pulls you closer to him. You rested your head on his chest while admiring the small diamond ring that glimmered in the moonlight.

“It’s beautiful”.

“I’m glad you like it. When I saw it at the shop, it made me think of you”.

“It’s perfect”.

He lifts up your chin and plants a warm, soft kiss on your lips as the bells of a near by clock tower signals the start of a new year and a new decade.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, and if death do us part, I will always look for you in every lifetime”.

“Happy New Years Y/N”…

“Y/N”! Your friend Asami yells at you, snapping you out of your day dream.

“We’re here”. She points to the bookstore.

“Oh sorry”. You apologized as she drags you into the place.

~

As soon as the two of you entered the bookstore, the smell of coffee and new books hit your nostrils. There was an end-of-the-year sale at Asami’s favorite bookstore and she insisted you come along. You took this as an opportunity to find books for your research paper for the psychology PhD program. While the two of you were looking at books, Asami caught you zoning out again.

“Y/N”! She snaps her fingers getting you out of your trance. “I’m here”! You said loudly, getting attention from other bystanders.

“Seriously, what is up with you? Did you pull an all nighter again? Like I get it’s your thesis paper, but you do realize sleep is important right”? Asami says while skimming through a random book.

“No, it’s not about the paper. I keep having this dream for like the past month and it’s been bothering me”. You say while skimming through the bookshelves.

“Oooh do tell”. Asami looks at you with curiosity.

“In the dream, I was with a guy and we were at this park filled with snow, and he proposed to me under a tree”.

“Man, I wish I had a dream about a guy”. Asami shakes her head and laughs.

“Asami, I’m being serious. It’s like, the dream is telling me to remember this guy, but I really don’t”.

“No offense but I think you’re reading way too many psychology books. I think it’s time to switch genres”.

"That's not how psychology works". You deadpan.

“Anyways, I gotta use the bathroom. BRB”. Asami puts down the book she was looking at and takes off, leaving you alone to wonder off.

You were walking around trying to find a book you’ve been wanting to use for your paper. After a few minutes of searching, you spot a large textbook sitting on the top shelf.

"Only one copy left".

You notice a step ladder near the bookshelf and begin to climb it. As soon as you reached the last step of the ladder, you stood on your tippy toes and you reached for the book. After a few attempts, you managed to get your book. But before you could climb back down, the screws of the ladder unscrewed itself, causing the step to break. You fall off and braced for impact, only for a guy to catch you.

“Woah, has anyone ever told you not to climb on faulty ladders? ”. The man puts you down before you could get a better look at him.

“Sorry”. You looked down in embarrassment. The man picks the book you dropped from the floor.

“Here, you should be more careful next time”. His speech slowed down as he made eye contact with you. His arm was frozen in place, the book still in his hand. You look at the man and his features. For some reason, he looks so familiar. It feels like you’ve met him before, but you don’t know where.

“Ummm… thank you”. You grabbed the book from him and began to walk away.

“Y/N”? You turn back to him.

“Yeah”?

“I thought I’d never see you again”. He muttered out loud.

“I’m sorry, do I know you”? You ask, feeling really creeped out.

“Oh”. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, it’s just, you look like someone I knew from a long time ago”.

“Y/N”! Asami calls out to you. “There you are! I was looking for you! You have got to stop wandering around girl”! Asami notices the guy and looks up and down in disgust. “Shall we head to the register”? She says, slowly dragging you away from the man.

“WAIT”! You and Asami turn back at the man in annoyance.

“I know we just met, but, I want to take you out on a date”. He grabbed a pen from his pocket, took your book and wrote down his number and his name on the first page.

“Text me and we’ll set something up”. He walked away, leaving you stunned.

“Girl, who was that”? Asami asks.

You look down at the page. “I don’t know, but I think i’m about to find out”.

~

You were waiting for the mystery guy to arrive. Of all the days to meet up, he picked New Year’s eve. Despite being really busy, he managed to get a reservation at what is coincidentally your favorite cafe.

From the information you gathered from Asami’s stalker account, the man that saved you from falling on your ass at the book store, was none other than Ken Sato. Turns out he’s a baseball player for the giants, and according to Asami, he is LOADED.

You feel a buzz from your phone. Thinking it was a message from Ken, you opened your phone, only to get a text message from Asami.

“I really hope your date goes well! But if he tries to attempt some serial killer shit, it’s on sight”.

“Asami, you’ve been reading too many horror novels. You should consider switching genres. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine”.

As you send the text message, Kenji runs into the cafe. You wave at him, catching his attention.

“I'm sorry for being late”. Ken sits down. “There was traffic downtown. Another kaiju incident”. He huffs.

“It’s, fine. I’m glad you made it”. You smiled at him.

The waiter took your orders and placed some tea in a white porcelain teapot down, along with two white teacups. He leaves with the menus, leaving you and Ken to bond.

“I’ve always wanted to try this place. This cafe looks cozy”. Ken looks around at the aesthetically pleasing decor.

“The food here is to die for! This is literally my favorite cafe since forever”. You said. Ken nodded.

“From what I’ve read, this place has been open since the 70’s”. He begins to pour some tea into your cup.

“I love how everything is so simple”. You take a sip from your tea. As soon as the hot liquid touches your mouth, it stings your tongue.

“Ahh, hot”! You yelp. Ken chuckles as you pout.

“Something’s never changed”. He chuckles as he shakes his head.

You look at him in bewilderment.

“Sorry," He cleared his throat. "I'm probably creeping you out”. He twiddled his thumbs, looking super stressed out.

“I’m sorry Ken”…

“Kenji. Call me Kenji”. He interrupts.

“Okay, Kenji, have we met before? Because when we met at that bookstore, you said you thought you would never see me again”.

“You really don’t remember me”? Kenji says, his gray eyes looking at you with disappointment.

“Well, the thing is, I think you’re the guy that keeps appearing in my dreams . I thought you were someone I made up, but it turns out you’re real, and you’re sitting right in front of me”.

“Am I supposed to”? You ask

Kenji looks down at his tea, the clumps of sugar that he put in a minute ago beginning to dissolve.

“Umm, nevermind. So, tell me about yourself”.

The conversation lasted for hours. Everything felt so casual between the two of you. Kenji told you how he led the Giants to the championships; despite almost dragging them six feet underground. He had to use simpler terms when describing some of the plays since you weren’t much of a sports fan. On the other hand, you were telling him how you were trying to pursue your PhD in psychology, and how it’s always been your dream to get your doctorate degree. Kenji admired the bright look on your face while you talked about your passion.

While you were having a great time with Kenji, you have a gut feeling that he has something to do with your dreams. He knows something you don’t, and you want to know what he’s hiding.

Eventually, the waiter had to kick you out of the cafe because they were closing early for the holiday. As you two stepped out in the cold, the sun was almost gone, and the sky became darker.

“I don’t really feel like going home yet. Wanna head down to the park with me”? Kenji asks.

“Umm, sure"!

As you walk to the park, Kenji grabs your hand. You look up at him and smile. There was something familiar about this warm feeling, like deja vu. When you reach the park, you can see the patch of snow that stretches down for miles. While walking down the semi-icy path, you keep thinking about Kenji's motives. He's not telling you anything, and couldn't take any more secrets.

“Kenji, can you be honest with me”? You blurt out.

He looks down at you.

“How come you remember me, but I don’t remember you? What are you not telling me”?

Kenji sighs and looks at the ground. You stood there, your arms crossed, waiting for him to answer you.

“This might sound weird. Like out of a novel weird”.

“Try me”.

“Okay, but first, come with me”. Kenji grabs your hand and drags you along.

“Where are we going”? You ask.

“You’ll see”.

You both go deeper into the park, where all the trees divide the park and the streets and where there is no one in sight. The more you both go down the path, the more your anxiety starts to peak.

“Oh my God, what if Asami was right? What if he is an actual serial killer and he planned your demise since your first encounter”?

But a familiar setting caught your eye before you could think of any worst-case scenarios. You were standing in front of a tree covered in snow. The same tree that was in your dream sequence.

“Look familiar”? Kenji asks.

“Actually yeah”. You turn to him. “What are we doing here”? You ask him.

“This was the place where I proposed to you”.

“Proposed to me”?

Your brain clicked as you piece everything together. The repeated dream you had was a memory from the past.

“You’re the guy… you’re the guy from my dreams”. Your eyes widen

“So you do remember”!

“Not exactly”. You shrug.

Kenji takes both of your hands. You look up at him. His soft gaze locked onto you.

“Y/N, you and I were together in our past life”.

You stared at him like a deer in headlines. You’ve read about past lives in an article before, but you didn't think it was real.

“December 31st, 1979”. He starts. “I took you to that cafe, y'know the one we went to today, and then we walked down to this very same park and I proposed to you here”.

You still look at Kenji in shock. You tried to say something, but you couldn't form any sentences.

“I understand it’s a lot to process”. Said Kenji.

“No, no I sort of understand now. Although, I don’t remember anything after that”.

Kenji looks down at the ground. “Six months after the New Year, we were in a car crash. I only suffered a broken leg. But your injuries were too severe. You didn’t survive in surgery”.

“Oh”.

“That day, I promised myself that I would find you again, and when I did, I would never let you go”.

Kenji takes out a small black box. He opens it to reveal a small diamond ring, the same one he proposed with all those years ago.

“Kenji”…

“I know we just met again, and I don’t expect you to remember anything, but you are my soulmate, Y/N. I never want to lose you again". Kenji puts the ring on your finger. The small diamond ring glimmering in the moonlight.

Everything comes flooding back to you. The guy was Kenji. He's real. Everything that happened in your dream is real. Kenji pulls you closer to him. Your lips were inches away from his. He closes the gap between the two of you. Your heart swells as he hugs you tighter. The two of you separate, trying to catch your breath. You admired the ring, reminiscing how beautiful it was, how it felt so right on your ring finger.

“It’s perfect”. You smile.

“I know, but it’s not as perfect as you”. He smiles

You blush. “I can’t believe you waited for me”.

“I did promise you all those years ago, that if death do us part, I will always look for you in every lifetime”.

The bells of a nearby clock tower signaling the start of a new year.

“Happy New Year Y/N”.

“Happy New Year Kenji”.

You kiss Kenji again as the sound of the clock tower bells continue to echo across the park.

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Alex and Kovur’s wedding is everything!!! I want something like that someday!! Also, the bookstore scene was inspired by a Tinder ad with Lana Condor lol.

IMPORTANT A/N: I will be going international for a few weeks so everything might be on hold for a bit. But I have a few things cooking. Also, stay tuned next Friday/Saturday for a little surprise.

As always, Likes, Comments and Reblogs are appreciated and feel free to request anything!

[destielaureversebb]

Coming soon for the @destielaureversebb: “Not Safe for Work” 

Author:  Salamitsunami1 Artist: Witchy-Worm @witchy-worm

Rating: Explicit Archive warnings: No archive warnings apply Length:  30,000 words Tags:   Two-Person Love Triangle, Friends to Lovers, Sexting, Top!Castiel, Happy Ending Relationships: Dean/Castiel, Temporary Dean/Cassie

Summary: Castiel’s life is pretty well on-track for someone who’s just turned thirty, if he does say so himself — he’s got a great job at the university, he’s just finished his master’s degree, and he has it on good authority that he’s likely going to be accepted for his PhD next year. Things go slightly awry when he wakes up one morning with a neck so sore and so stiff that he can’t move his head. He’s not sure how he obtained a musculoskeletal injury while writing his thesis, but he is sure that the physiotherapist who will be treating the injury is quite literally the most attractive man he’s ever seen in his life. It only gets worse when Dean turns up as a tutor at the university, which, incidentally, he does at the same time that Castiel receives an unsolicited nude from an unknown number.

Excerpt: 

“I’m gonna take a look at that neck of yours now,” Dean says, taking a step towards the bed, and again. “If that’s cool with you.”

Castiel swallows. “Of course.”

Dean examines him like that, standing close enough for Castiel to smell his cologne and count the freckles on his cheeks and nose, he prods at Castiel’s neck and squeezes his shoulders, there are seconds of painfully uncomfortable eye contact as he frames Castiel’s face with his hands. 

“Look this way,” Dean says. “All the way, as far as you can.” 

Dean turns Castiel’s head to one side by his chin, further and further, extending his neck to an angle that is far beyond what he’s been able to achieve all day, which is enough to send a sharp pain up his spine and into his jaw, which is of course enough to make him wince. 

“Sorry.” Dean lifts into an apologetic half-smile. “Is that sore?” 

“A little,” Castiel says, being very brave about the whole thing. 

Dean continues in this manner, turning Castiel’s head, left and right, up and down, in such tight proximity, with nowhere to look besides at each other. Then, suddenly, he tugs on Castiel’s t-shirt. “Off.”

“What?” Castiel asks, startled. “Why?” 

Dean’s forehead twists. “So I can look at your back.”

“The injury is in my neck.”

“The injury is presenting in your neck,” Dean corrects. “That don’t mean it’s not affecting anything else.”

Posting date:  March 7, 2025

[aradassbadass]

im fried | d. dennis

you and your friend are in the club and you spot future… or you think you do.

the lights were dim, a little too dim some may say, but it didnt help that you were drunk either. too drunk, and well maybe a little high too.

“bro, is that future ?” you say to your friend, pulling her close, your eyes wide as you point to the dreaded man standing in the vip section.

“bitch!” she exclaims jumping up and down. “it is oh my god! OH MY GOD!”

a grin finds its way to your face as you look at her.

“im the shit bitch i know.” you say smugly. “ im going to go ask for a picture come one.”

you feel her hand grab your belt loop as she follows you throughout the sea of people, a chorus of excuse me’s and sorry’s stream from your lips as you finally get to the edge of his section. as you are looking up at him you notice the diamond smile he had on his face.

“sir, sir excuse me” you say, well yell. the noise was deafening.

he glances down at you and the smile widens.

“yes gorgeous.” he says, a slight southern drawl playing on his tongue and from the sound of that you should have know that it was indeed not mr hendrix as you had initially anticipated.

“ i love your music!” you say exclaim happily.

“ im sorry, what you say?” he questions leaning down over the edge of the wall that was between you two.

“ i love your music,” you say getting closer to his ear giggling. “ cause i am fried yes fried and very fucked up” you recite the lyrics back to him.

a deep laugh errupts from his as he stands back up causing you to look at him quizzically.

“so, can i get a picture?” you yell, confusion setting in.

“ yeah, yall come on up here sweetheart.” he says the word sending shivers down your spine. he motions for you and your friend to come.

he walks over and meets you at the entrance signaling the man guarding it that you could enter.

you immediately go in for a hug without thinking and your friend who is prepared snaps the picture.

“ oh ok, damn.” he laughs wrapping his arms around you large hands gripping your waist. you cant help but bask in his scent. it exudes sex and masculinity. it smells exactly as he look.

“you smell so good.” you say looking up at him head still resting on his chest.

the look he gives you says it all. “ thank ya.” he says smiling at you then licks his lips.

“ yo friend want one too mama?” he asks lowly eyes still locked on yours.

“oh, shit yeah.” you say pulling away, sighing at the loss of his body against yours.

“here girl.” you say reaching for the phone.

she goes over and just wraps her arm around his waist and his over her shoulder, the other going up into a peace sign. a sense of satisfaction arises in you as you see he didnt embrace her just like he did you but leaves as soon as you see the big smile on her face. she was happy for you and you the same for her, besides he wasnt your man anyway.

you click a few pictures and then she pulls away and thanks him coming back over to you and grabbing the phone to look at them

“yall wanna chill with us for a lil bit?” he asks motioning to the group of guys surrounding him.

“yeah.” you reply without even realizing, looking at your friend and she nods too.

“type shit” he says. you both follow him to the couch and as he sits he leaves room for you both on the side of him.

“so where yall from?” he asks looking between the both of you.

“ texas, but we go to school out here!” your friend answers smiling.

“type shit, what yall studying?” he asks curiosity genuine.

“im working on my masters in business and she is currently working on a phd in biology.” she says motioning to you. “she really smart as hell. tell him bout your research” she says smirking at you and you smile in response, her way of saying he yours girl.

his eyes widens as he look at you and you begin to explain, “ uh yeah my thesis is on the rate of duplication in cancer cells in african americans.”

“oh shit, you gone be a doctor.” he asks.

“thats the goal but i dont know shit is crazy.” you say staring at him. as you look you start to realize he is lacking nose piercings and the signature blond on his dreads.

your eyes widen as you come to the realization. “oh my God youre not future.” you exclaim standing up.

a loud laugh erupts from him and your friend stand up as well when she realizes this and she moves to your side.

“thats who you thought i was?” he is able to say between his laugh.

embarrassment burns through your body at this and you begin slightly angry.

“obviously!” you say irritation heavy in your voice.

as he notices this his laugh stops and smile drops.

“yo calm down.” he says reaching a hand out to grab yours and you pull away disgust on your face.

“dont fucking touch me.” you say grabbing your friend. “come on lets go.” you say grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the exit.

“what the fuck.” you hear him say behind you. you dont care, not only did he laugh at you, he lied to you. or at least in your eyes he did and that alone was enough to piss you off and ruin your night- your high too.

yall im really rusty at writing but i got the idea for this when i was high & i think i wanna do another part or two ! let me know what yall think cause there aint enough on here about dada

[hayanwulf]

Furs and Feathers

Partially inspired by @mystical-magician's beautiful fic, Tiresome heart.

As soon as Tony finds his workshop couch empty, he panics.

His workshop is The Most Secure place in all of US, if not the entire world, built from the ground-up by himself. He Does Not take security lightly.

And for that reason, whenever he is unable to keep his selkie pelt safely within his senses’ reach, he leaves it in here, disguised as a simple, comfy blanket, under the watchful eyes of FRIDAY.

But FRIDAY wasn’t watching it today, because she was deactivated for an update. An update that will still require another hour before she can be safely rebooted.

Tony was only gone to the Accords Council meeting for three hours. Three hours. And between then and now, his selkie pelt disappeared from its usual place on the couch.

Between then and now, someone stole his pelt.

And he is losing his mind.

He shuffles around the couch, throwing around the pillows haphazardly in the hope that it’s right there, that it simply got buried. He checks the other couch as well, tossing its pillows to the heavens. He doesn’t care wherever they land.

He goes on to check every likely spot in his workshop where he might have left it. Surely, under that desk. Surely, at DUM-E’s station. Surely it’s somewhere in here, he just misplaced it and forgot.

(That’s impossible. He would never forget where he last left it. It’s The One Thing he always has and always will handle with utmost care.)

He keeps looking and looking, ignoring the swirling dread in his gut that keeps getting worse with each passing moment. Because it had got to be somewhere in here. No one could have stolen it. It’s impossible to break in to his workshop, and the only people who have access in here are Tony’s closest family.

So it has to be here. It has to.

(Because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if it isn’t.)

“—ny, Tony!” A hand lands on his shoulder, and Tony jerks away in surprise, hand instinctively flying up to repulsor his assailant even though there’s no armor around his hands.

His assailant — no not assailant, it’s Stephen — raises hands in a placating gesture, one hand reaching to gently hold Tony’s hand which was still held up in an offensive position. Tony deflates, his shoulders sagging, as he realizes there’s no threat.

“I was calling you, you didn’t listen,” Stephen says, reaching Tony’s face with his other hand, and traces a finger at Tony’s temple. His finger comes back with a bead of sweat. “What happened? What are you searching for?”

Tony swallows, and it is only now he realizes his body has cold tremors too. Stephen must feel that against his hands. Or does he? Tony takes a step away from his lover, extricating his hand from Stephen’s. “Nothing,” he huffs, and tries to calm his racing heart. Deep breaths, or something like that. “Nothing.”

Stephen steps forward, apparently not letting him escape as he gently grabs Tony’s hand again. “Well, clearly it’s not ‘nothing’, seeing as you’re searching for it like a PhD student searching for their thesis on the last minute.”

Tony snorts. “Is that what you did, lost your thesis papers and searched for them five minutes before viva?”

“Obviously not, I was well prepared and right in time. Don’t Deflect,” Stephen adds when Tony opens his mouth with another snark right on his tongue. “What did you lose?”

Tony swallows the tightness around his throat. Of course he can’t just tell Stephen that hey babe, surprise, I’m actually a selkie and I have this coat which practically half of my life depends on, because if I lose it I can never turn into a seal again. And now I have lost it.

No. For all that Tony dearly loves Stephen, he still can’t tell him that.

It’s an odd concept. Tony has trusted Stephen with his life. He trusts Stephen’s magic. He trusts this man with all his deepest, darkest secrets.

Well, all but the one, apparently.

One would think that by now, Tony would be ready to tell Stephen. But he can’t. He doesn’t understand why, but he can’t. Perhaps it’s the fear, the fear that had always been there, that never quite went away.

The fear of ending up like his mother.

She had loved Howard with all her heart, and Howard had betrayed her trust by locking away her pelt, coerced her to forever stay with him on the ground and never return to the sea. He had stripped her of her freedom, of her autonomy. He had stripped away a piece of herself.

But Stephen isn’t like that. Tony knows that. He loves Tony and would never do such a thing to Tony.

And yet..

Tony swallows hard as a thought strikes him.

Stephen wouldn’t... would he?

His eyes flicker to the inconspicuous couch, where his pelt was supposed to be, where it always is. Inside the most secure facility to ever exist in the States. A place which only Tony’s closest family have access to.

His closest family.

Would he?

There’s no way Stephen could have found out. Yes, he is a sorcerer. Yes, he has been to dimensions unimaginable and has met creatures beyond comprehension.

But Tony is nothing if not careful. For this one thing in his life, he has always been careful. And his mother had taught him well. She taught him the simple but infallible charm he always uses to disguise his pelt into a blanket, the only piece of magic he always drew comfort from before Stephen was in the picture.

Besides, even if, hypothetically, Stephen really does know and was the one to take Tony’s pelt, why is he not throwing that fact at Tony’s face already? Why isn’t he already dangling Tony’s freedom right in front of his eyes and driving him helpless with the knowledge that there’s nothing that he can do?

Or maybe maybe he wants to have a bit of fun first. Maybe he wants to watch Tony struggle, kick his hands and feet searching for his most important piece of possession. Maybe he wants to watch Tony crumble, slowly and painfully, until he’s nothing but a husk of himself.

..No, no, no!

He shakes his head to dispel the stupid devil’s whispers in his ears, because no. Stephen isn’t sadistic. Stephen isn’t sadistic. He loves Tony.

So he wouldn’t.. He couldn’t have..

Tony feels like he’s already crumbling. Falling apart.

He slides to the floor with his back against something, burying his head on his hands, hunching in on himself as his body shakes from the barely suppressed sobs. Maybe he is crying. He’s not sure anymore.

A trembling hand cups his knee, and he flinches, shrinking further into himself.

“Sweetheart, would you talk to me?” Stephen asks, his voice at its most gentle tone. Then another hand is on Tony, coaxing him to remove his hand from his head. The shaking hand carefully grips under his chin, making him look up.

And there Stephen is, sitting right next to him on the cold tiles, his eyebrows pulled in concern, his beautiful gray eyes fixed entirely on Tony, filled with so much worry and sorrow and love, as though Tony is his entire world.

His hand leaves Tony’s chin to wipe a stray tear off Tony’s cheek. “Tell me, what happened?”

God, how could Tony have ever thought that this man would hurt him in in such a way?

Shame and guilt twist in his gut, and he finds that he can’t look at Stephen’s eyes; eyes that are full of nothing but concern and love for Tony.

He wonders for a minute if he should lie, or make some excuse, but he simply has no one else to turn to. How can he turn away the only person who even wants to be here, wants to deal with the trainwreck of a man that Tony is?

“Have you.. seen the blanket that’s always there?”

Stephen turns to the direction Tony indicates with his hand, and blinks when he sees the couch. “The light chestnut one?” He turns back to Tony. “I just saw Peter huddled in it, in the common room.”

Tony’s brain freezes.

“You.. a blanket?” Stephen furrows his brow, glancing once at the couch, then shakes his head. “I don’t understand what—”

Tony bolts up on his feet and is already rushing out of the workshop before Stephen has finished his sentence. He is vaguely aware of his lover rushing after him with stumbling steps, trying to keep up with his pace as he makes it towards the common room. Maybe he calls after Tony. Tony isn’t sure. All he can hear right now is his own heart beating against the ribcage.

And then here he is in the common room, and there Peter is, sitting bundled inside the ‘blanket’ like a perfect burrito, on a small sofa, looking very content and on the verge of falling asleep.

“Hey Mr. Stark! Hey again Doctor Strange!” The kid chirps happily upon seeing the adults.

Tony closes his eyes and inhales a shuddering breath at the sight of his pelt. It’s safe. It was right here! “Kid, I’ve told you, that blanket doesn’t leave my workshop.”

Peter blinks, and the blanket around his loosens a little. “It’s really comfy.. and it kind of reminds me of you. Sorry! That sounds weird. You can have it back!” His words progressively come out in a rush as he wrestles himself out of it.

Tony huffs, even as his heart warms at the thought that Peter finds so much safety wrapped uder his pelt.

A selkie’s pelt is extremely personal to them. It is a part of their skin, and they do not allow just anyone to touch it. But Tony has never had a problem with letting his kid use it as a blanket.

Even if Peter will never fully know just how grand a gesture it is, of Tony’s trust in him.

Tony gratefully accepts the ‘blanket’. As soon as his fingers touch against his second skin, his insides fill with relief, a tangible proof that his pelt is here, safe, unharmed. He hugs it close to his chest. Some part of his mind reminds him to be subtle in the presence of company, and he wisely listens to it, easing up his grip.

“Here,” Stephen says, and Tony looks up to find his sorcerer encouraging Levi off of his shoulders, who all too willingly fly over to Peter and wrap him into another perfect burrito.

Right; it’s winter, and Peter just wanted something to wrap around himself, despite the indoors temperature always maintained a manageable level.

Tony’s pelt was never stolen. It was simply an innocent act, by an innocent child who didn’t know the significance of why Tony wanted this particular blanket always within his workshop walls.

Everything is fine. He would’ve even figured it out himself, if he had stopped freaking out for just one damn minute and had thought about it carefully...

Crisis averted, they wordlessly make their way back to the workshop. Tony can feel Stephen’s eyes on him, knows he has questions swirling left and right in his head. What’s so important about this particular blanket?

As Tony flops down on the couch of his workshop, his pelt in his lap, one hand rubbing the heavy exhaustion from his face, he contemplates what to tell. Should he just say that it’s heirloom? Or that it belonged to his mother. And so he’s attached.

He sounds lame even to himself.

Some small, barely audible voice in his head says that you should tell him the truth. This is your chance.

He buries his face in his hands, because he.. He can’t. He wants to, but..

A presence hovers right before Tony. He opens his eyes to find Stephen bending down to touch the ‘blanket’ in his lap.

Right, because Stephen is smart. Extraordinarily smart. He has a vast imagination and can view things from the wildest, most unthought of perspectives. And he’s a sorcerer with the knowledge of thousand different species of the supernatural, and million more spells & magic theories. 

So, really, Tony shouldn’t have been shocked by what happens next.

As Stephen touches the pelt, a wave of orange magic washes over it.

And the disguise falls away.

And there Tony’s pelt is, sitting in his lap, visible in all its glory.

Tony jerks away hurriedly, stunned, hands clutching onto his pelt like his life depends on it.

“Oh,” Stephen breathes. “Oh.” He covers his mouth with both hands in obvious disbelief and..

And fascination, Tony realizes, as he looks at Stephen’s sparkling eyes.

Maybe, maybe that would’ve made Tony feel a little better about all of this, if he had shown it of his own volition.

If he wasn’t feeling so utterly betrayed, for being stripped of his choice.

“I.. wow, I never could’ve even guessed until Today, Tony, you..” Stephen inhales slowly. “How did I not see the clues..” He mutters, mostly to himself.

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly trying to advertise this, now, am I?” Tony’s voice comes out more snappy than he intended, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Because that fear.. that very thin possibility that Tony might just end up like his mother...

It feels too real now.

Stephen’s eyes flicker with something — realization, perhaps — and he takes a step back, gently raising his hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to cause you distress. It was just a hunch, the blanket..” Stephen shakes his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I thought...” He sighs, closing his eyes. “I’m going about this the wrong way.”

He then extends a hand to the side and spins a half-sized portal to life, giving Tony a sneak peek to Stephen’s room at the Sanctum through it. He does another hand gesture, one Tony understands to be a simple telekinesis, and an object flies in, the portal closing shut after.

The object, Stephen’s blanket, the one that always stays neatly folded on Stephen’s bed, a rich peacock color and fluffy to the touch, the one Tony always loves hogging when they’re sleeping together, that blanker, drapes itself over Stephen’s shoulders, and— Tony’s breath catches.

There’s no way.

In a shower of orange sparks, the deep peacock blanket changes into a blinding white, beautiful, feathery cloak.

A feather robe!

Tony stares, mouth agape, as Stephen runs a hand down his shoulder, smoothing the pristine white feathers. He doesn’t know what to think. He can barely comprehend what he’s seeing.

Stephen is a swan. His Stephen is a swan.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Stephen says, biting his lip. “I just didn’t know how. Or if you’d...”

If I would understand, Tony completes the unsaid words. If I would cherish that trust. If I would break it.

Tony can understand. God, for the first time in his life, he truly feels understood.

All this time, they were both just two scared, broken men, afraid of breaking further.

Tony takes slow, tentative steps towards Stephen, wanting to see his robe from up close, wanting to touch it, but he doesn’t think that will be acceptable.

Oh, but he does remember touching it, being wrapped in its warmth many a nights, even if it was in a disguised form. And now he can’t stop thinking about it, of all the times this man let Tony drape his feathers on himself.

But now that he knows, he wonders if that will change. If Stephen wouldn’t allow him to touch it anymore.

The thought sends a pang through his heart.

He should’ve told before. God, he should’ve told long ago. But he always chose to stay a coward. He wonders how much of uncertainty and fear he would’ve saved the both of them, if he had chosen to be brave, to be honest.

Walking around Stephen to view the beautiful robe from the back, he freezes at the sight.

Deep scars run vertically down the back, the feathers on those lines dead, deformed.

What he saw on the front was only a glimpse of the beauty that still remains, because the rest of it is hideous.

Just like his scars.

Tony’s heart pains, and he subconsciously reaches out a hand halting an inch away from the feathers. Oh, he wishes he could touch, but—

Stephen backs up, consequently pressing his robe into Tony’s extended hand. Tony gasps at the contact and looks up at Stephen.

Head tilted sideways so he could see Tony behind him, Stephen nods in a silent permission.

Tony swallows and runs his hands over the feather. They feel fluffy and incredibly delicate under his touch, and his heart flutters.

He moves on to the scarred lines, and realizes that the deformity of all the feathers isn’t directly related to the scars. Rather, they are spread out in a very different pattern of their own. Where that pattern emerges from, Tony really couldn’t tell unless Stephen was in his swan form. The feather robe is, after all, an abstraction of his swan hide, in the form of a cloak rather than the exact shape of wings. It’s the same with Tony’s pelt, it appears like a coat more than anything else.

But one thing is, unfortunately apparent.

Stephen can never fly again.

Tony’s heart breaks for this man.

“Do you.. want to touch my pelt?”

Stephen turns around and glances down at Tony’s hand where he’s still holding his pelt to his chest by a hand, and then looks up, hope blooming in his blue eyes. “May I?”

It truly is an odd concept. Only Today, Tony was spiraling down the train of thought of all the awful things Stephen might end up doing if he ever got his hands on Tony’s pelt. And now.. Now he is willing to hand his pelt to Stephen.

Because he knows now, knows with absolute certainty, that Stephen will never betray him.

He offers his pelt towards Stephen. Stephen carefully takes it, and Tony can’t help an involuntary shiver that runs up his spine at the feeling of another touching his pelt like this, without the disguise.

But it’s a pleasant kind of shiver.

Tony can see the awe and marvel in Stephen’s eyes as he so very gently handles the pelt, like it were a beautiful, delicate sculpture made of glass, and would shatter and one smallest mistake.

Stephen moves closer to Tony and drapes the pelt around Tony’s shoulders, straightening it around the shoulders as he murmurs, “It’s silky.”

Tony lets out a soft chuckle. “You don’t say. Yours is fluffier.”

“Well, yours is silkier.”

“Are we turning this into a competition. Cause I can point out twelve more qualities that yours—”

Stephen groans. “Tony, no.”

Tony huffs. “Fine, fine.” He places a hand over Stephen’s where it still rests on his shoulders, and Stephen brings them down so they can hold onto each other.

For a few moments they just stand in the comfort of the other’s presence. It’s.. truth be told, it is a lot to process. There’s just so much to understand here, so much that Tony hadn’t known about Stephen.

And there’s so much he still doesn’t know.

But that can change, starting now.

“So how come you live down here?” Tony asks, looking up at Stephen. From the little that Tony knows, swans are very different from selkies. Half-swans just cannot exist, the way Tony is half-selkie, because children born of a swan and a human never shed a swan robe.

Stephen’s eyes flicker away. Tony feels his body grow tense. “My robe was taken. When I was a child.”

Tony sucks in a sharp breath. “A child? Stephen..”

Stephen shrugged, not looking Tony in the eyes. “My.. the father who raised me, he found me and took my robe. Locked it away. I.. couldn’t find it even after his death. It wasn’t until I became a sorcerer that I searched it out again.” His pets a hand over his feathered shoulder. “And, well, by then I didn’t have much of a reason to go back.” Then, a little quieter, “Not that I would be able to, anyway.”

“Oh, Stephen..” Tony’s heart ached for his love. He had no idea that Stephen.. that he’d been caged all his life.

Just like his mother. Perhaps worse.

“Were you too..?” Stephen asks, finally looking at Tony.

“Christ, no. Well, not me anyway. Howard took my mother’s pelt.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephen says, and genuinely sounds so.

Tony huffs. “Well, we’ve both got quite the shitty life, huh?”

Stephen holds Tony close and leans his forehead against Tony’s. “Not anymore, I suppose.”

Tony smiles softly, closing his eyes and his hands wrap around Stephen’s back, settling buried in the soft, fluffy feathers. “Not anymore.”

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi inês! how are you? can you write something for a driver of your choice with a reader that is really focused on her studies and may be doing a masters or a phd and the driver is just super proud of her? thank you <3

Note: Hi dear, I'm good and you? I've mentioned a PhD in the first George piece I ever wrote, so I'm continuing with it!

"I have some food for you and some water - you've had enough caffeine today", George said as he set the tray on the dining room table. The desk on your home office quickly became too small for you to have everything you needed to, so you moved to the dining room, notebooks, books, your iPad and some notes spread around as you typed on your computer.

"Thank you, my love", you said, taking your glasses off your face and rubbing your temples, grabbing the fork and eating the nutritious meal he prepared for you, "do you want some?", you offered him, "no, I made it for you, I need to make sure you're getting healthy nutrients to keep all of this up", he said, kissing your temple.

"I need to send this to my supervisor, and I think I'm going to finish it tonight", you smiled, "after I send this, I'll just have to do the corrections that come back, then make sure the pages are lined up correctly and then it will be it - until my defense anyway", you allowed yourself to smile, pulling your knees up to your chest as you looked at the screen, "it feels like I've been doing this for my whole life and at the same time, it feels like it was yesterday that I was suggesting this research", feeling George rub your back softly.

.

"We were also planning to have the team dinner here", Toto pointed to the spot on his calendar, "is that alright with everyone?".

"I won't be able to be there - Y/N is defending her thesis and I'm going to be there, and I'll take her out to celebrate and have the weekend all to ourselves as a mini holiday", George smiled.

"Already? I'll send her my congratulations in due time", Suzie smiled.

"Yes, it's finally happening, and she's ready for it. We've been practising a little bit every day, she knows all of it front to back and back to front and her supervisor also thinks she has a really good shot for the best grade", he smiled, never hiding how proud he was of you.

.

"George! I'm glad I found you here!", Naomi said as she walked with him, "I know you don't usually talk a lot about your personal life, but we saw that Y/N is finally in the paddock after taking a bit of time out and we also saw your post about her PhD! Congratulations for her!", she praised.

"She did, yes! She got the highest grade possible and she's publishing a few articles soon - she's been incredible over the past few months, despite not being here, she was always there for me as well, and she deserves all the recognition she's getting, she's the best", George smiled.

"We have a new doctor in the paddock, so I'll be sure to say hello to her and congratulate her later on", Naomi winked.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 2.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, extremely brief implication of alcohol? (bestie chenle is back and bringing his best unhinged wine aunt energy to adulthood and we love that for him) ➠ genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after between two palms, before freezing the puck) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: ok how could i NOT write a lil something about their time abroad ft. my bestie, your bestie, everybody’s bestie chenle still being a little menace ➠ series masterlist

You shrugged off his apology by grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling his lips down to yours. Sungchan tasted like the ocean, like seabreeze and salt spray, and he happily hunched over to deepen the kiss, pressing your head back against the back of your chair.

Standing in the small regional airport of the little tropical town that you were staying in, you fanned yourself as you watched the sky out the window. The air conditioning was of course broken (not that you’d ever heard of a time that it was working), and you wished you could just stand straight on the tarmac as that would honestly be cooler.

After successfully defending his thesis and graduating with his PhD, Sungchan had (after discussing it with you) accepted an opportunity to join a team studying a tropical fish in its native habitat abroad for ten months, and you of course came with. It was a whirlwind of getting everything ready to move internationally in less than a month, and now that you two were finally sort of settled in, you were having your first visitor from back home.

Finally, you spotted the small prop plane descending, and literally bounced up and down in place with excitement as it landed, and you got a look at the four passengers deboarding right onto the runway. Your focus was on one in specific, as he fumbled with putting his sunglasses on as his hat nearly blew away in the strong winds.

As soon as he was in the doors, he spotted you with ease—there were only a few others waiting for their own family and friends—and you two nearly tackled each other with hugs.

“Chenle!” You squealed, squeezing him tightly.

“Y/N! Oh my god!” Chenle let you go, his chest heaving dramatically. “Did you see that landing? I thought we were going into the fucking ocean for a second. God, and the turbulence—I thought I was going to die, like typing my will in my notes app at 40,000 feet.”

“You’re too used to being spoiled with all those first-class international flights for work,” you scoffed, grabbing his rolling luggage as he kept his duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Business class,” he tried to insist as he followed you outside. “And really, is it too much to ask to not have my seatmate almost throw up on my shoes because the plane is convulsing like we’re in a cocktail shaker being thrown around by a flair bartender?”

“Oh no, did baby’s designer shoes almost get a little bit of commoner vomit on them?” You gasped teasingly.

“That is not what I—”

“Really brave for you to complain about getting somebody’s puke on your shoes.”

“That was one time sophomore year, I can’t believe you haven’t let it go,” he complained.

“And I never will,” you snickered, finally arriving at the small car that the research institute loaned out to the team for personal use. “Now come on, we’re getting brunch. Sungchan says hey by the way, and he wishes he could’ve met you at the airport too, but they had to go out on the boat early this morning. We’ll probably see him a little after lunchtime.”

“So what exactly are you two doing out here?” Chenle asked, reclined back in his seat and sipping on his second colorful cocktail of the day. “It’s absolutely gorgeous here, by the way, so if I were you, I wouldn’t give a shit what Sungchan was doing…”

You laughed, biting on the straw of your one and only drink. “He’s studying a tropical fish that’s only found in this region. Not really the whole fish, I guess, but apparently some of it could help cure human blood diseases. So that’s more the part that he’s interested in. His research head from his doctorate program recommended him for the spot on the team, and so far it seems like they love him.”

“And you’re just…?”

“Enjoying the view?” You replied sheepishly. “Been doing a lot of reading, exploring the area, trying to keep myself busy. His stipend is enough to support the both of us, and the research institute provides our housing and all those utilities, so I’m really just trying to keep busy while he’s out and about for the next… eight a half months?”

“I’d say you’re living the dream, but I know you…” Your friend pulled his sunglasses down just so you could see it clearly as he narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re going to get bored.”

“I’m enjoying the break! Really!”

“Tell me when you start writing an academic article out of boredom.”

“Well…”

“Already? You’ve been here for six weeks!”

“I haven’t started writing it, but I was re-reading the screenplay for M. Butterfly the other day, just something short, you know, and started taking some pretty rough notes about this idea that I’ve been turning over in my head for a while.”

He shook his head. “Of course you were.”

“I have to get a job when we go back, LeLe! I can’t be a stay-at-home girlfriend forever,” you tried to defend yourself.

“Sungchan would probably be cool with it.”

“After he made sure I wasn’t replaced by a robot, an alien, or suffered some kind of head trauma because he knows I’d go crazy like that.”

“I’m just saying…” Your friend gestured to the incredible view that the waterfront restaurant offered.

“Sounds like you want to be Sungchan’s stay-at-home girlfriend, Chenle,” you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned mischievously. “Hell yeah, you two looking for a third?”

“You’re going to eat those words when you see the size of the apartment they put us up in.”

As soon as Chenle stepped over the threshold into your small one-bedroom apartment in town, he looked around, as if expecting more.

“You’ll be sleeping on the couch, sorry. Mine and Sungchan’s room is in there,” you pointed. “And the bathroom is connected, so we all have to share this week, sorry again.”

“You know, thanks for the offer, Y/N, but I don’t think I’m cut out for the throuple lifestyle.” He patted you on the back. “Good luck on your search, though.”

“Ungrateful little—” You cursed, grabbing his ear and yanking on it. “Wait until I tell your mom about this!”

“Tell my mom what?!” He yelped, jumping back from you and cradling his ear. He clearly wasn’t over taunting you either, though. “You want me to tell her that I rejected your throuple offer?”

“I’ll tell her it was your idea in the first place. She won’t even care about that when she hears about you rejecting my kind and selfless hospitality!”

He merely stuck his tongue out at you, and you stuck your tongue back out at him. With the situation essentially resolved, you two relaxed again, and he gave the apartment another lookover.

“It is really cute in here, actually,” he appraised. “How much of the décor is yours and how much came with the place?”

“Most of it came with the place, we couldn’t bring a whole lot, and we can’t buy too much while we’re here if we can’t bring it back.”

Reclined on the beach later in the day, you hummed contentedly at the cool breeze blowing over your warmed skin as you sat under the shade of an umbrella and some trees. You and Chenle had already swam around for a bit, and were taking a short rest back up on the shore.

“So when’s Sungchan allegedly supposed to appear?” Chenle asked, taking pictures of the incredibly blue water with his phone.

You checked your watch. “They left pretty early this morning, but he didn’t bring a lunch, so probably soon. Thirty minutes or less if I had to guess?”

“Hey, can I see that?”

“My… watch?” You held your left hand out to him, confused.

“No, this!” He smacked you in the face with the back of your own hand.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Sorry, thought you couldn’t see it.”

“See what? How fucking dramatic you are? I’ve known that forever.”

“No, this!” That time he didn’t hit you with your own hand, but instead pointed to your bare left ring finger. “No ring?”

“No ring,” you confirmed calmly, yanking your appendage back from him so it couldn’t be used for evil again.

“Isn’t this the same guy who said ‘I love you’ on your first date or something?”

“Second.”

“Right, my bad, second date. And you two have been together for…” Chenle silently counted on his fingers. “…Six years?”

“I was worried for a second there at five. Thought you wouldn’t figure out how to get to your other hand.”

Chenle ignored your provocation, though, already on a mission. “Same guy who said ‘I love you’ on the second date hasn’t proposed in six years?”

You sighed, sitting up in your chair and leaning over the armrest towards him as if you two were conspiring on some plot. “I didn’t want to say anything but… we did pick out a ring before we left.”

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Got a little distracted with having to move to a new continent in like three weeks, sorry!”

“Did he bring it? Is he proposing here?”

“I don’t know! That part’s supposed to be a surprise!” You shoved him, laying back against your chair back again. “We had all the big talks and stuff, he has the ring somewhere—here, home, I don’t know—and now’s the surprise part: When it happens, how it happens, where it happens.”

“Alright, alright,” he held up his hands. “I rescinded my right to making decisions in the relationship when I left the throuple—”

You smacked him on the chest, “Shut up! Is that is now? It’s no longer rejecting an offer, you now were in our relationship, and left us?”

Chenle cackled. “Yeah, keep up, Y/N.”

“This is going to be the bit, isn’t it?” You deadpanned as he continued laughing. “The running bit for your whole week stay is going to be continuing to develop this nonexistent throuple lore?”

“I’ve got to keep myself entertained somehow.”

“Well, I’ll have to tell Sungchan that you left us, he’ll be devastated, I’m sure…” You retorted, knocking down the brim of your hat to cover your eyes. “I’m going to rest my eyes. Don’t get lost and don’t drown.”

“Heard.”

Just a few minutes later, and you heard the sound of a motorboat coming closer and closer, then the chatter of several familiar voices. The sound of shoes kicking through sand got nearer to your chair, then there was an even more prominent shadow over you, and you could sense someone hovering there. Right as you opened your mouth to say something, a drop of saltwater dripped off of whoever was standing over you and into it.

“Pfft!” You sputtered, shooting up in your chair and wiping your mouth as the newcomer burst into laughter.

“S-Sorry, baby,” Sungchan clutched his stomach, holding onto the arm of your chair for support. “Should’ve toweled off better…”

He was in a wetsuit that had been unzipped so that it only clung onto him from the hips down, the black material going down to just above his knees. His hair was clearly still damp, sticking up in crazy directions and he had that same excited, breathless smile he always had when running up to you after a boat day. His bag of personal effects and materials was on the ground by his feet, and you could see a towel crumpled up on top of that.

You shrugged off his apology by grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling his lips down to yours. Sungchan tasted like the ocean, like seabreeze and salt spray, and he happily hunched over to deepen the kiss, pressing your head back against the back of your chair.

“Hey Sungch… Christ…” Chenle’s voice trailed off from somewhere further away. “You two know there’s other people on this beach, right?”

You reluctantly let Sungchan go, glaring at your friend. “And where the fuck did you go? I said don’t get lost.”

“I was in the water! Like right in front of you!”

“Hey, Chenle,” Sungchan greeted him enthusiastically like nothing had just happened, wrapping the smaller man in a big bear hug. “Glad you made it here in one piece, dude. How was your flight in?”

“Don’t rile him up…” You groaned, covering your face, but it was already too late.

“It was the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced! We like, seriously almost crashed into the ocean. Like, actual water landing!”

As Chenle took over your shower early that evening, you and Sungchan went about your own tasks. He had to wash out all of his equipment that didn’t get taken care of at the marina and you put the finishing touches on Chenle’s makeshift couch-be. Sungchan stood directly under one of the lights at the sink in your kitchen—well really, it was more of a kitchenette, with a sink, a few cabinets, and minimal counter space that was taken up by a microwave and single plug-in electric burner, both of which couldn’t be plugged in at once for safety reasons and because the counter could only fit one at a time.

Glancing up from where you had just completed Chenle’s couch-bed, you furrowed your brow thoughtfully as you looked a bit harder at Sungchan’s complexion. Meandering over to lean against the counter next to him, you reaching up to gently tilt his head to expose it to the light better. Then, you grabbed his collar and pulled it to the side to take a peek at the skin of his shoulder. Sure enough, bright pink as well.

“Baby, you’re sunburned again,” you declared, letting go of his clothes.

“I let you put sunscreen on me this morning!” He protested, putting the last small piece of equipment onto the hand towel sitting on your counter.

“Did you reapply? That stuff’s not supposed to last the whole day, you know.”

With a slight pout to his bottom lip, he looked down into the sink guiltily. “I forgot…”

“Sit down, I’ll get the aloe from the fridge.”

He plopped himself down into one of the chairs around your tiny dining table just a couple steps away, pulling his shirt off and setting it on the surface in front of him. You grabbed the already near-empty bottle of aloe vera from the fridge then joined him.

Depositing a generous amount onto your fingers first, you then started applying it gently to the sun-tender areas of his shoulders.

“Ugh…” He groaned in relief, dropping his head forward into his hands. “Thank you, baby.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were doing this on purpose so you could have me doing this every night,” you replied teasingly, making sure you went down the pinkened skin of his back as well.

“Ooh, hey, that’s a good idea.”

“Sungchan…”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I really do just forget, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You started on his other shoulder. “Anyway, I was telling Chenle about that little place we like by the water, with those scallops you love. Sound good for dinner?”

“Sure, whatever you guys want. I’m ready to third wheel for the week.”

“He’s your friend too!” You insisted, pushing him back so you could access his also sunburned chest and face.

“But he was yours first, and you two are best friends.” He closed his eyes, a content smile spreading across his face. “Just happy to see you so happy, baby.”

Having finished his chest, you stole a peck from his lips before applying a small amount to his red cheeks and nose.

“God, I’m going to need to gouge my eyes out by week’s end!” Chenle had appeared in the open doorway to the bedroom, fully clothed and with a towel wrapped around his hair.

“And who was practically begging to be our third less than twelve hours ago?” You snapped back, carefully leaning your elbow on top of Sungchan’s hair to avoid all the sunburned areas you’d just tended to.

“Wait, what?!” Sungchan looked up at you, knocking your arm off his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I broke up with you two,” Chenle waved him off, dropping onto your couch. “So when’s dinner?”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[drawingdroid]

Melting Point: Chapter I

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Read Prologue

Chapter I: The Artist/Metallike

Summary: Your roommate drags you to an art opening and It'll turn out to be such an interesting night that will leave you dreaming of brown eyes.

Words: 1721

Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: Hi! I'm sorry for taking forever to upload this after so much teasing! Everything was practically written until Chapter 4, but last month has been a disaster. Hopefully, I'll be able to be back at it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Reader and Din meeting with a very Pride and Prejudice vibe.

When you arrived, the place was cramped. Everyone fancied free drinks on a Friday night at Nevarro’s downtown, but this was… excessive for an art opening. After the awful day you’d had, you didn’t feel like squeezing yourself between strangers. You were just about to say to your roommate that you had thought better about it when you saw the poster in the window display of the local.

The Guild Gallery presents:

Mando

The Master of Beskar

15 unprecedented sculptures

Your jaw dropped immediately to the floor. You were so excited you had to grab your roommate’s arm to calm down.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” 

“You just dragged me to an exhibition of my favourite artist ever without knowing?” You were over the moon right now, Mando wasn’t an artist who used social media so it was never easy to come up with his next show. It was all part of the mysterious aura that was around him.

“Rumors say he is based in Nevarro.” One of your roommate’s friends severed, and your eyes sparkled in awestruck.

“Do you think he may come?” You were dying to ask him some questions, maybe even you could arrange an interview with him for your thesis work…

“He never shows up in his own exhibits, so I don’t think he will.” You were a bit disappointed, but it was the truth. No one knew his real name or face, only the generic pseudonym, and his breathtaking sculptures.

“Do you think he makes it in an entitled prick way? Like, to feed the mystery or something and sell more?” You looked at the boy furiously. You obviously didn’t know Mando personally, but you had extensively studied his artwork and could affirm you knew a bit about the psyche that hid behind his artwork.

“What if he’s just shy, or he doesn’t like the attention?” Your mental picture of Mando was the one of a person who struggled severely with emotion and used his sculpture as the only possible outcome. That was one of the reasons why his art moved you so deeply.

Your interlocutor didn’t have the opportunity to respond since it was your turn to enter the gallery. It was luxurious but not tacky, with a minimal interior design that gave the artwork the space to shine. You were mesmerized. Soon you grew apart from the group because they were more interested in the free booze while you admired each one of the pieces. Grabbing your tiny notebook from your purse, you annotated everything about the sculptures that resonated de most with you.

“Breathtaking, aren’t they?” A well-dressed, middle-aged man was standing next to you. He had an air of dignity in him, but also a pinch of mischief in his eyes that delatated his true character. 

“They’re stunning.” You mumbled admiring the hard planes of the sculpture that was standing right in front of you. The same you had been observing for twenty minutes straight: a faceless warrior in a startling fighting pose.

“Mando always finds a way to surprise us.” Then, he extended his hand to you and you squeezed it gently. “Greef Karga, I’m the owner.” He clarified while shaking vigorously your smaller hand. You blushed violently, maybe he had mistaken your interest for being a potential customer? Nevertheless, you offered him a smile and your name too, always wanting to be polite.

“I’m actually a researcher on Mandalorian art, and I’ve been following Mando’s career for a while.” 

“You’re talking to the man who sold his first artwork, sunshine.” He confessed as if he was telling you a secret. The desired effect was accomplished and your eyes were opened wide.

“Really? That’s…that’s…” Your words were betraying you and the man only smiled wider. Then you started a battle with your purse to find the wallet. “I…know he does like to keep his…privacy, but if he is ever interested in an interview I’ll…it will be really meaningful to my research.” You blurted giving him your business card. He observed it and repeated your name to himself.

“I’ll let him know darling.” He then put a friendly hand on your shoulder as a farewell when something heavy touched your foot, making you flinch. You looked to the floor: a metal ball had hit your foot. Looking confused at your surroundings, you crouched to grab the round object when its owner appeared.

“Oh hi, baby!” You cooed, your face brightening when your eyes found the tiny face of a toddler. “Is this yours?” They approached you a bit shyly, looking at you and the ball, as if weighing their options. The baby stared at you, blinking a few times, until they bent clumsily to grab it.

“Patu!” The little one said showing triumphantly the shiny object. The corner of your eyes squinted of the pure tenderness this creature provoked in you.

“Grogu, my little man!” Karaga called, to your surprise. You had to admit: you had forgotten about him for a little moment, but it was great that they knew each other. The toddler squeaked in delight, running to the man’s leg. He certainly looked amused with the encounter, so they were probably close-

“Ah!” The boy babbled cheerfully to you both, showing off his treasure again, and then started patting Karga’s leg.

“Your dad hasn’t got you dinner? Come here, let me grab you a sandwich.” The toddler sounded excited and made grabby hands to the older man to be picked up. Your eyes met with his as he observed you with curiosity. They were dark and huge, almost too big for the kid’s face. You gave him your brightest smile and he did the same in return.

“He looks sharp as a tack!” You praised, giggling a bit.

“You wouldn’t imagine.” 

Both of you laughed together as Grogu started to explain something in incoherent baby language.

“Oh, so you are enjoying the Art Exhibition too? What’s your favourite piece? I see…” You pretended to understand his excited gestures as Karga started to walk to the catering table. “It’s clear you’re such a connoisseur, sir.”

“Could you hold him a moment? I’m making him a sandwich.” Karga’s question took you off-guard, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he placed the toddler in your chest Both of you studied each other's eyes for a moment. You could count the times you had held a little one with the fingers of a hand. But finally, he looked satisfied after scanning your face and squeaked happily, starting playing with your hair and jewellery, even mapping your cheeks and nose with his tiny hands. A warm feeling ignited inside your chest as you replied sweet nothings to his babbling.

“Grogu! Here you are!”

The three of you looked in the direction of the baritone voice who had just called the baby. Between the multitude, appeared a man who stood up amongst everyone. Though he was dressing casually, in full denim, his handsome face and broadness were so obvious. Your mouth went dry. Not only his physical appearance but his gait and the way he carried himself. You weren’t used to meeting men like that. He was borderline intimidating. His scowl while looking at the baby didn’t help with that. Was he angry that a stranger held the boy?

“Din! Good to see you, I thought your son would be hungry.” The gorgeous man huffed in response, looking at the sandwich Greef Karga had just prepared.

“The little womp-rat is always hungry,” he mumbled and started caressing the boy’s head, and the baby giggled. “I asked you to stay there.” He scolded, but the toddler just looked happy to see him again. Din sighed in resignation and finally, it looked like he noticed your presence for the first time. While you still had Grogu between your arms, he stared at you without a word, like you were a sculpture and not a person. You observed him back without shame and he tilted his head slightly while studying you. He looked stiff as a board and didn’t stop frowning all the time.

Weird.

Luckily, Karga spoke after the strange silence between you became too tense.

“Din, this is…” Karga started introducing you after clearing his throat,  but then the little boy interrupted by babbling at you while offering you his ball.

“You want to play baby?” You asked, but you could see his handsome dad pinch his nose. It wasn’t the moment to annoy this stranger who didn’t seem to like you. “Later, ok? First, be a good boy and have dinner.” Your soft voice reminded him of the prospect of food, and now he was twisting in your arms. You let go of him and the toddler ran immediately to grab Din’s calf. The man looked exhausted and 100% like he didn’t want to be there. But when he put the little one between his strong arms his face lightened up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he left towards the catering table. Before getting lost between the multitude, Grogu’s head popped behind Din’s toned shoulder and he waved at you. You needed a moment to recover, having melted like ice cream from the cuteness of the gesture.

What a pair.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Din can be a little rude sometimes.” You shook your head dismissively in response when Karga excused his friend, even though a little rude was a polite way to say it.

“Don’t worry sir, the baby was so adorable I didn’t notice.” You then offered your best smile before departing. “I leave you to attend the other visitors, it’s been a pleasure.”

Later in your shared dorm, you’d think a lot about the pair you had met. Such a friendly toddler and his dad? He was so attractive and manly you felt dizzy, but he had been so rude to you. What was the problem with him? He looked like he instantly disliked you. Maybe it was your cologne? Was it your outfit? Turning in your narrow mattress, you said to yourself you had more pressing matters to attend to, like how the hell you were going to pay for the semester after your scholarship had been denied. You sighed and closed your eyes, and you dreamt with broad shoulders and bright huge eyes.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @technicallykawaiisoul

[hel-phoenyx]

Domhildr and Pharaildis (both mentioned) belongs to @soupedepates

Oli (mentioned) belongs to @thal-ent

I'm the last one to come in, out of the four of us suppposed to be reuniting today. The old gang of seven, truncated from very important mambers, but still thriving for today.

At least that's what I thought, when I called upon this reunion, and only the girls and Thorfinn could come. Gustav had to work, Kriss too, Hector was on a design he had to finish quick. And, well, I'm still snobbing Fenrir. Even if he's in the hospital for now.

i'm the last one, and probably the most expected. Aarni just waved at me excitedly. Just like when we were children.

"Tyyyyyr ! You took your sweet time, my man, what's wrong, thesis fucking you in the ass ?"

I smile at this remark.

"Less than before, since the work is almost over."

"You're gonna be doctor Tyr soon then, Thorfinn laughs. Good, good, I'm impatient for your PhD celebration."

Yeah, me too. But we're not there yet, and before celebrating the doctorate I have to get the doctorate.

And I have more urgent matters to discuss.

"Okay, enough talk about work and deep-sea animals, I don't wanna infodump today. Can I sit down ?"

Brynja smiles.

"Well, all the chairs are taken, you know how tiny it is at Aarni's..."

"HEEEEEEEY."

"But here, I'll just sit on your lap", she continues, royally ignoring my best friend's protestation. As she's standing up from the sofa, leaving me enough place to sit on.

It's warm. It's comfy. I have her on my lap. everything's good.

Aarni doesn't leave me time to enjoy this. She just clapped her hands with a huge smile.

"Alright, now that everyone's sat down, let's talk. Why do you wanted us there, Tyr, are we finally resuming our DnD sessions ?"

I laugh.

"Well, Gustav's still the DM. Can't do that without him can I ?"

"Aw. Sad."

"But that means," says Thorfinn in a perfect "hum actually" posture, "we're here for something else. So, tell us what it is, Tyr, relationship problems ?"

On my lap, Brynja laughs.

"Dear me, I hope not. After all the tension and the drama needed for you and Domhildr to get together..."

... I'd rather not think about that. Or, at the very least, make that the main conversation subject. The problems is, Thorfinn is very right. I have something to ask advice for, and it is related to my recent relationship confirmation.

"Uh. Yeah, about that..."

"Oh nooooooo, whines Aarni. Don't tell me you've already broken up with her."

"What ?! No ! Why would I-"

I stop seeing her teasing smile. She was messing with me. Again.

When will she stop getting on my nerves, I ask myself. It's like Domi, but Domi's cute when she's doing it. Aarni just annoys me. In a fond way.

I roll my eyes. In my arms, Brynja is gently tapping on my shoulder in compassion. Bless this angel of a woman.

"Okay. Well, it's good I have only the girls here, actually... And, uh, Thorfinn."

"Oh, don't mind me, for this particular occasion, I am extremely proud to be counted among the girlies, fufu. So, what'll it be ?"

Three looks hungry with drama are turning towards me. Yes, even Brynja's. I swear to the gods, this woman feeds on my relationship turmoil. Little, adorable drama succubus.

Or maybe she's just enjoying my face getting redder and redder, because she knows why I asked for that little reunion.

"... Well. I was thinking about, er... Taking the next step in our relationship."

Oh lord I dread Aarni's hungry smile.

"Getting married already ? My, and it's only been like weeks..."

"Brynja's gonna get jealous you didn't propose to her first, Thorfinn adds with the exact same smile. What do you think about that, Brynja ?"

The main sujbject smiles mysteriously.

"Oh, well, I suppose I can never compare to years and years of every kind of tension..."

"That's not- I'm talking about sex, you idiots ! There, I said it, are you happy, you absolute baboons ?!"

Dear gods, my ears are so, so hot. Without talking about my cheeks, burning under the effect of that scorching embarassment. I'm already regretting my need to ask for their advice. But they do give good advice.

I can't ask Oli because it would be too awkward, like "hey, my best friend I am probably in love with for ages, do you have any advice about fucking our shared best friend, and now my girlfriend and whatever you two are ?" awkward. So I'm reduced to subject myself to the mortifying ordeal of being teased endlessly.

Worst is all three of them are smiling. Yes, even my damn GIRLFRIEND. Brynja you traitor.

Aarni is the first to talk after my little outburst.

"My, my, Tyyyyyyr. Rather straightforward, are we ?"

"Well, you are the most allosexual here, my dear, laughs Thorfinn. And from what I've gathered, she has quite the high libido. So why don't you just, you know, go at it like you know how to do ?"

Jesus Christ I can't believe I have to answer this question. But, well, in a way, that was expected. I did come here seeking advice. And I am talking to two aroaces and one unlabelled girl that admitted to my face she only felt sexual attraction towards two people, one of them being me.

"well....... I would like to, y'know, do things well, see ? Like, both our relationships to intercourse are fucked up."

Aarni nods solemnly. Girl, please. I know you witnessed a lot of my bad hookup phase, but you don't have to rub it in.

Whatever, let's carry on.

"Without having the pretention to heal her or something, I kinda want this to feel, you know... Special. Like sex people on a relationship have, and not... Just a hookup, or just me asking her to open her legs for me."

"And so, you come to us, the virgin aroaces, for advice about making a first time special."

... When Thorfinn says it like that, it looks ridiculous.

I sigh. Heavily.

"Well, I would ask Brynja, but only thing she told me was "Don't do like you did with me and that should be fine"..."

Said Brynja laughs in my arms.

"Honey, that is my advice."

I roll my eyes. Again. I'm gonna do this a lot today, I fear.

"Well, this piece of advice was quite unhelpful, Brynja, my darling."

"At least you know not to repeat your mistakes~"

... I miss the girl who got so red at the only mention of the word "sex". Well, not like I don't love the one she is now. Both our bodies remember I do love every part of what she's become.

"Brynja's kinda right, interjects Aarni, looking more serious now. I mean, it's not on a whim, right ? You've thought about ths for a while, and from what you've told us, she is more than ready. Just be yourself and it should be fine."

""Myself" is at a risk of not being enough-"

"Oh, don't listen to that old crone, laughs Thorfinn. I have a plan. It's only been a week, right ? You can't celebrate your month or something ?"

I roll my eyes.

"Don't think both of us have the patience."

"You little naughty youuuu~ But still, my plan is foolproof. Listen to me, young Padawan."

Thet stand up, holding their finger up like an old teacher about to explain to his poor students the war of the three chinese kingdoms.

"First, you invite her at your flat for the evening. You prepare everything beforehand. Flower petal bed, a good table, a nice playlist, some games or films to watch..."

"Oh ! Oh ! And then, then," continues Aarni with a huge smile. "You pick something you both like for an activity, something that is special for you. A film with a lot of importance, or a game you played together a lot, something like that. So she feels appreciated and loved aaaaaaall the way."

"You could even cook the dinner together, adds Brynja with a soft smile. I seem to recall she loves cooking."

Good point. Writing all of that down. Well. If I had a notepad. I guess I'll have to remember it.

"And then !" Thorfinn continues, his expression pedantic. "You wait for the right moment and you ask if you can kiss her. And you see where all of that is bringing you."

I blink.

"Just.... That ?"

"Well, yeah. D'you need more ? A four-star restaurant ? Gold-filled lube ? Jeez, rich people-"

"It's not that ! I just think... what if she still thinks I'm only in for her body ?"

Aarni rolls her eyes.

"Dear gods, Tyr, you're insecure as fuck. That girl has been in love with you for years. You've been in love with her for years and more. The sexual tension is bound to explode. If anything, she's probably frustrated you won't touch her and for what ? D'you think she's that fragile ?"

... If you put it like that, that is a good point. I have been unjust towards her a long time, especially with what she's been through. And I don't wanna see her like some lil thing to protect. It hurts her, I have understood it enough with new year's whole drama.

I don't wanna make her feel like a whore, either.

I just want to make her feel loved as Domhildr, the whole person I've fallen in love with and adore with all my heart and soul.

"Don't overthink this, man, Thorfinn adds. It's obvious you love her. And want to fuck her. Both of those are compatible."

"And judging how you're into slow, soft shit and hugs and kisses and the whole body-worship package, don't think Domhildr is gonna feel used or anything like that," Aarni ends, smiling.

I nod.

"Yeah, you re probably right...."

.... Wait a minute.

".... But how do you know what I'm into ?"

Aarni smiles. Thorfinn smiles.

Brynja laughs.

That's how I realise I should have known.

"... Riiiiiiiiiight."

"Well, no secrets between girls, amirite ?" Asks Aarni.

Brynja has a little smile.

"I am afraid even Pharaildis knows about that, my dear. When we're out drinking, I can get quite... Talkative."

"Great. Now everyone knows my preferences in bed. Just what I've needed."

Of course those three are laughing. Of course. It's annoying Tyr day today or what ? I only wanted advice, for fuck's sake.

Brynja leans against me, still smiling.

"Well, she wanted to know what you had so special, to reactivate a libido I thought dead. I have to say she was quite surprised "straight men like this still existed", to quote her. I was sad to break her surprise telling her you were queer."

"You really should stop going out drinking with her if it's to gossip about me, darling."

Said while not believing it for I am so happy she found a friend other than us.

Brynja isn't even believing my stern tone. She raises her head, plants a kiss on the verge of my jaw. her hair brushes on my neck. It feels so soft.

"Well, it's good gossip. I always trust you to do things right, regarding sex, don't I ? For you, and Domhildr."

Heh.

Ironic considering how messed up our first time was.

But I'll choose to believe you, for a little while.

Believe I won't mess this up, this time.

[buckets-and-trees]

💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐

A bouquet for you! Featuring: Bucky Barnes; Rivals to Lovers; Academia; Fluff. I hope you like it!

++++++

No one said going for your PhD would be easy but whoo boy did you underestimate the toll it would take on you. Thankfully you had a supportive group of friends. Even if their definition of "support" was different from yours.

Bucky definitely had a weird definition of the word. His way of supporting you was through challenges. Whoever got the lower GRE score would buy the other dinner. Whoever ended up with the higher student evaluation scores won the only good chair in the office for the next semester.

But it's definitely helped the both of you. You and Bucky are always at the top of class, always first to be asked to help professors write articles, always on the short list for grant writing opportunities. With your thesis defense coming up quick, you've also both gotten a fair number of job offers.

The week of your group's thesis defense was brutal and, of course, you were the last to go. The only person who kept studying with you was Bucky. He'd gotten his handshake, his confirmation of acceptance. But unlike the others, he didn't let himself relax and celebrate. He made sure you ate, slept, studied. You asked him why he was so intent on helping you instead of celebrating and he gave you an incredulous look.

"We're competing for best notes from the committees," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "I got an advantage by going early. If I want this to be a fair contest, I gotta help you be at your best."

You smile and thank him, "I just hope you haven't wasted your time."

"Time with you is never wasted, Aspen," he assures. "You bring out the best in me." The two of you look at each other fondly for a while before Bucky gets back to asking you questions for your defense.

When it's finally your turn to defend your thesis Bucky is there to support you. He promises he'll be waiting just outside so that, no matter what happens, you'll have a friend when you walk out. It's the most intense few hours of your life and when you walk out so they can deliberate, you're exhausted.

Bucky greets you with your favorite candy, a bottle of water, and a big hug. It's not much time before your thesis advisor comes out, holds out her hand and says, "congratulations, Doctor."

At the celebration for your study group you and Bucky are inseparable. The two of you even excuse yourselves early and head back to your place, Bucky promising you're going to want to keep him after he's ruined you.

Zombie! Oh, you are a ridiculously wonderful dearrrrr to send a bouquet my way! I was thrilled when I got the notification, and it just didn't stop from there!

RIVALS TO LOVERS IS HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES! But then the PhD setting? It's an idle thing that's crossed my mind, so.... ah! You just so perfectly hit the mark!

"Time with you is never wasted, Aspen," he assures. "You bring out the best in me." The two of you look at each other fondly for a while before Bucky gets back to asking you questions for your defense.

The gasp I gasped before completely melting?! I'm just... I'm not recovering any time soon for how sweet and wonderful this was! Thank you for such a gift - especially a gift of yourself and your talents!

[lutiaslayton]

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　１９

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

── London・Present

＊ Reunion

After Janice’s voice faded away, I remained pensive for a while.

Three years ago.

The moment I met her, I was left in awe.

She was a beautiful woman, much older than me…

But at that time, was it Melina that left such a big impression on me?

Or was it Janice…?

This is one of the puzzles that I have yet to solve.

This had been my first adventure with the professor, and it was a very special one for me.

‘Mr Future Gentleman’

I thought I had just heard her voice again.

“Look, Luke.”

The professor’s voice brought me back to myself. He had two tickets to the ‘Eternal Kingdom’ opera in hand.

It really was just like that time from three years ago.

Though of course, the name of the venue on the ticket was not the ‘Crown Petone’ this time.

Mr Whistler’s face came to my mind.

According to Inspector Grosky, he sometimes plays the piano in prison, bringing tears to the eyes of his fellow inmates.

I heard through the grapevine that Captain O’Donnell and Mr Marco Brock have hit it off since the incident, and often travel together.

Amelia is currently studying abroad at a foreign university.

The letter I received the other day said that she was still very grateful that the professor and I had attended her grandfather’s funeral.

Nina sometimes comes to visit us here, at Gressenheller. She has a very good memory and studies very hard, and I think she might be admitted to college before me…

But I won’t lose to her. Look out for the Future Gentleman and puzzle master, Nina!

Oh, that’s right, Mr Starbuck and Mrs Raidley had their wedding just the other day. The gossip magazines made it a really big deal.

And I’m currently reading Annie Dretche’s latest mystery. I’m so excited, I can’t stop reading it!

Annie once told me that she has been writing mysteries much faster than before for the sake of Mr Bargland. That way, he would have something to read while he spends his spare time at the hospital…

And then…

There was a knock at the door. Who could it be? Perhaps a client for some new exciting mystery to solve.

The professor and I got up from our chairs at the same time and headed for the entrance.

But as soon as I opened the door, my heart skipped a beat.

“Janice…”

I was dazzled by her smile. It looked just like the one I had seen three years ago…

　⇚　　　　　　　↛

And this completes the fan-translation of the official Eternal Diva novel, everyone! Man, this sure was something. A lot of work, a lot of tears and sweat, a lot of good surprises. Who knows what the future has in store for us now!

...Hm? What's that? Another novel? Let's see...We've seen a lot of blue lately, perhaps a change of colour would do us all some good. How about green? Green sounds nice, right?

Yup. Illusory Forest it is, baby. See y'all next week for a brand new adventure, and one that most of you never have gotten to experience before at that 👀

Oh, also, I'm just going to say before we let Ambrosia go back to its eternal sleep: this thing has followed me up until the very end of my PhD. I defended my thesis, like. TODAY. Just A FEW HOURS AGO.

At the exact time this post is coming out, I am likely going to still be stuck at the lab managing the mini-quiches for the party or something of the like, hahaha. So... yeah, I guess I'm a doctor now? In theoretical chemistry, that is. Yay? Yeah, let's go with yay :D

(and I hope that future me won't happen to be told a random "actually no ur work sucks you failed lol" on that very day and the party prevents me from editing this post in order to bring the bad news, that'd be awkward lmao)

[riddle-me-ri]

Alright so this is less romantic and more shitposty but. If I can request the scarecrows' responses to a gotham university psychology student showing up at his doorstep like "hey uh could you look at my thesis?" Like fully prepared to be fear toxin-ed on the spot but absolutely worth the risk cause lord knows that's some shit I'd do 💀

A/N:  hnnggg this shouldn't have taken as long as it did but I kept taking it too seriously except for the absolute crack that it is lmao I have no doubt in reality it'd be a miracle if any of them opened the damn door.

Scarecrows Reacting To A Student Looking for Feedback (crack)

Arkhamverse Scarecrow:

First of all, how did you find him?

Secondly, how dare you disturb him?

Are you fearless or just foolishly stupid?

He genuinely can’t tell and he doesn’t want to waste time thinking about it.

However, since you’re here now…

And it doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Clearly, despite how many threats he’s shot your way.

He isn’t opposed to a willing test subject

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow:

Well, this was odd. 

If not also incredibly annoying.

When he hears your reason for being on his front stoop.

He is shocked…

Surely your institution has much more qualified, not to mention more relevant assistance to look over your paper. 

He’s a man of science making headways, he has no time to–

Well, actually…he hasn’t seen very sufficient results in his recent Arkham patients…

BTAS Scarecrow:

Really? Him? 

Even when he was a professor, none of his students came to him for a review.

No doubt he’s itching to just shut the door on you. 

Then again, perhaps he can hold you ransom for some money to fund his toxin…

And on top of that he can also use you for testing the effects of his recent toxin…

How he could make it stronger, faster, last longer…

Besides, he’s never gotten a chance to properly review a term paper..

This should be fun. 

TNBA Scarecrow: 

He’s likely to ignore it, if not open it, yell at you and then slam the door.

This Scarecrow doesn’t have time for this nonsense.

Surely, you have other institutional superiors that you can go to?

Why would you willingly dive headfirst into danger? 

Unless…you just don’t care? 

If you’re so willing to get into danger, perhaps he should take advantage of it. 

He debates with himself for a minute…

Before finally just gassing you with his toxin. 

Taking sweet delight in your screams.

Fear State Scarecrow: 

You should consider yourself lucky that he even answered the door.

Like seriously, the only reason he answered was because of your incessant knocking. 

He had half a mind to slip on his mask and inject you with toxin and be done with it.

He’s far too busy planning his Fear State Theory into motion.

Jonathan can’t have any distractions or loose ends…

Everyone has their role to play, he was so sure that Gotham would enter it’s Fear State seamlessly. 

Patience running low, he does open the door, and one threat is all you get. 

When you don’t leave, it’s very much your fault that you’re screaming bloody murder down the street. 

Year One Scarecrow:

Jonathan groans at the prospect. 

His past sure has a strange way of following him somehow. 

Again, you should be surprised he even answers the door. 

But you kept pushing your paper underneath his front door. 

Quite, infuriating him. 

It takes a few more threats and slams of the door before he finally reaches his breaking point. 

He slaps on his mask, believing he’s done all he could to be rid of you. 

Perhaps, a reminder will help you.

He’s no professor, a scholar on fear. 

He’s The Scarecrow, the Master of Fear…and you’ve just experienced his wrath as you breathe in the toxic fumes. 

Masters of Fear Scarecrow:

Jonathan is confused, if not also agitated. 

Is this some kind of joke? 

His lived a long pathetic life of humiliation…

He doesn’t need it coming to him, knocking at his front door. 

You can’t just expect anyone with a PhD is willing to help you…

What kind of simpleton just walks up to a known high-class criminal, a criminally insane criminal? 

Honestly, when spoken like that, it was quite admirable. 

Took a lot of courage…bravery…or just a huge lack of common sense. 

Yes, yes, he’ll take a look, but first…indulge him in your fears

(it’ll help him in his own research later) 

HQ:TAS Scarecrow:

Jonathan thinks this must be some kind of joke.

Surely, this is the Legion pulling his leg, what else could it be?

Not only that, how else would you found out where he lived?

It has to be a joke. 

He tries to play along, but is quick to realize you’re actually being serious. 

Probably the only one that’s actually going to help you with your thesis paper. 

1000/10 would recommend 

And you may even get a member of the Legion of Doom as a friend. 

HHSD Scarecrow: 

I’m surprised Grandpa could hear you knocking.

Just kidding, only a little, I love to love and rag on this version when I can. 

But you really shouldn’t have picked a night when there were Elvira re-runs. 

Jonathan opens the door, reluctantly and is perplexed, but immediately annoyed. 

He didn’t have time for these things when he WAS a professor. 

He thought he left this type of harassment years ago, why do you choose to haunt him now with it? 

When you fail to leave on your own accord. He advises you to go away through a speaker by his door. 

When you still refuse, he decides enough is enough. 

Jonathan was inspired by that intriguing night at Crystal Cove, as he used a maniacal jack-al-lantern of his own to run you off.

[possessivesuffix]

Crossposting from Twxttxr: some interesting news about ongoing research by colleagues, from a workshop "Diversification of Uralic" just this Thursday and Friday

Do the Permic languages have loanwords from Old Norse? e.g. ONo. ár ~ Komi & Udmurt ar 'year'. This would've been sensible during the brief time when Norsemen originally from Sweden were in charge of trade along the Volga and settling in inner Russia, forming the Rus' (later Slavicized, but as we know from Byzantine sources they remained Norse for centuries) — and also the Norwegians too were known to conduct exploration + trade along the Barents Sea at the time, our oldest written reports of "Bjarmia" come from them after all.

Do the Finnic languages have loanwords already from Pre-Proto-Germanic into Pre-Proto-Finnic? My first reply would've been "yes surely", this has been discussed for half a century and there's dozens of etymologies out by now. Turns out though that there's still a lot of room for skepticism if we try to assemble a big picture. Most of these could be (and have been proposed by other analyses) to be proper Germanic after all, or from some non-Germanic kind of Indo-European, or even incorrect. There is unambiguous evidence I think at least of loans lacking *ā > *ō, but that's already though to be one of the latest common Germanic innovations, perhaps barely post-PG. [Follow-up question: do we even know where Pre-Proto-Germanic was spoken? might not have been anywhere convenient for contacts with Pre-Proto-Finnic.] — A few similar problems also in the less discussed supposed layer of Proto-Balto-Slavic or pre-BSl. loans, but by areal considerations it seems obvious to me there must've been Uralic/IE contact somewhere in the Russian forest belt for ages already, even if it might not have left enough evidence to clearly distinguish from things like pre-Indo-Iranian loans.

Do the Samic languages have loanwords that are not from any historically attested branch of Scandinavian, but some sort of a lost variety entirely? This could be an explanation for an unexpected sound correspondence *j → *ć in many loans; it might also explain some loans that look surprizingly archaic, e.g. lacking any reflection of Siever's Law. One example showing both is indeed *Tāńćə 'Norse', from some sort of a *Danji- variant of Proto-Germanic *Daniz.

Several new hypotheses on the history of of sibilants in Ugric, adding to the growing tally of evidence that traditionally reconstructed *s > *θ and *ś > *s "in Proto-Ugric" are actually later developments. A paper supposed to be coming out soon!

No linguistic evidence so far, but a 1670 travelogue by de La Martinière appears to still report seemingly pre-Uralic populations along the Barents Sea coast — and even on Novaya Zemlya, traditionally thought to have been uninhabited (as reported by other early modern explorers) before some Tundra Nenets briefly settled there in mid 19th century. Apparently there's been no real archeological investigation, but also at least two stone labyrinths are known as signs that humans still must've at least visited there sometime in the past. [By current knowledge, labyrinths from Sweden and Finland have mostly been built in late medieval and early modern times though, so they don't suggest especial antiquity either. Could the ones on NZ in fact have been left behind by some of these historical Northwest European expeditions?]

Various discussion also on the development of Samoyedic. Nothing particularly all-new (maybe on Nganasan, more on that in a PhD thesis to appear later this year though), but a few main results include 1. clear recognition that there is no "North Samoyedic" group (as has been suspected for several years now), 2. confirmation that there is regardless a narrower Nenets–Enets group, and 3. some development of a model where all three of Nenets, Enets and Nganasan may have moved to the tundra zone independently from further down south (as is certainly the case for Northern Selkup, the most recent northern expansion of Samoyedic speakers).

[mirtola87]

"Tale as old as time", or how Good Omens planted a seed in my soul that's growing more and more (bettah) [1/2]

Hi everyone, I'm new here, and I just wanted to share my totally-personal-maybe-relatable experience with Good Omens, trying to figure out why it became sort of an obsession for me. This is a 9-years story so far, and - spoiler alert! - the passage of time played a major role in the evolution of my perception. (English is not my native language, so please forgive my faults!) I first read the book about nine years ago. I was in a public library in Bologna doing research for my PhD in literature, when I stumbled upon the Italian edition. I was driven by the funny title, which was translated as "Buona Apocalisse a tutti!" (we could back-translate it to English as something like "Merry Apocalypse!" or "Happy Armageddon Everyone!"). I was Christian raised, and among all the books of the Bible, St. John's Apocalypse had always fascinated me, I guess because it was the one that most resembled a fantasy book. So I took the book from the shelf and started reading it. Soon I realized that I didn't need it for my thesis because it didn't fit the topic (I did use Coraline, Mirror Mask and Sandman, instead!), but it bewitched me right from the first lines, so I decided to put the library copy back on the shelf, purchase a copy in English and read it for pure pleasure. I enjoyed it so much that it became one of my favourite books ever. I was young and bold and had no idea that almost ten years later that story was going to mean so much to me and tear me apart. Time passed by, and my life went on. In 2019, when the show came out, I was eager to watch it. The book was a masterpiece, and the show proved to live up to it. David Tennant and Michael Sheen were absolutely perfect in their interpretations and made me love the characters even more. While reading the book, I had found the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley fascinating and irresistibly funny, but I didn't sense any love vibrations between them (and apparently they weren't supposed to be there yet, as we know from Neil that the love story is canon for the series but not for the book). I didn't read anything about the show before watching it, so I was quite surprised when I realized that there was something between the angel and the demon that I hadn't noticed 5 years before. I didn't see it coming at all, and I was all like, "Wait a sec... are they FLIRTING? I didn't remember that..." It was as in one of my all-time favourite songs: "Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly". This unexpected twist left me somewhat bewildered: it was like I had suddenly realized that two long-time friends of mine were having a crush on each other. It was a bit odd as I was totally clueless about it before that moment, but then the season ended more or less like the book did, the way I already knew. That was cozy and reassuring, and all those longing glances between Crowley and Aziraphale were just an extra icing on the cake. At the end of the story, their love hadn't been named (yet), just suggested. That happy ending was nice, gentle and romantic, leaving their relationship open to interpretation and imagination. I turned off my TV with a deep sense of amusement and satisfaction, and kept on with my life. Four more years passed, then a friend of mine told me that S2 was out (I'm not very good at keeping up with news myself, I admit). I knew that there wasn't any sequel of the book, so I was surprised and really didn't know what to expect, but I knew Neil Gaiman himself wrote the script, so I was confident it had to be good. And of course it was. Since my partner hadn't watched S1, I decided to rewatch it with him before starting S2. This time I KNEW that there was something going on between Aziraphale and Crowley, and the bewilderment of the first watch gave way to something different, a sort of complicity. I found myself shipping them fondly and smiling at every little clue of their untold love. "Ever just the same / Ever a surprise / Ever as before / Ever just as sure / As the sun will rise." Life was good. [Continues in Part 2]