#there are 1506 days left

[kedreeva]

There are good things in the world still

Today, I built a cool house in Minecraft! I added a small, secret aquarium to one wall of it, and it turned out GREAT.

Today, I made myself a bowl of popcorn, drizzled it with melted butter (real butter!) and tossed it in a big, silver bowl with some white cheddar powder. The bowl is the perfect size and shape to shake in a specific pattern so the contents slide up uP UP the side, and then like a little delicious wave, crash back down inside the bowl. It's Highly satisfying!

Today, three baby chickens hatched in my incubator. They are black copper marans (although one may be a blue marans), my favorite of the chickens, from a breeder with quality stock. I get to snuggle and spoil them for the next few weeks, and then gift them to my neighbor.

There are good things left in the world, however large or small they may be. This is your invitation to take a moment and find one good thing to reblog and share with others, and/or to look through the notes to find good things others have shared.

[mlm-writer]

Pairing:  Omega Dick Grayson x Alpha Male Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1506 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 1 - Last day of an omega’s heat and their alpha is TIRED Note: Woo it is octoberrrr Tags: established relationship, creampie/breeding, knotting, overstimulation, off-screen consented somnophilia, blacking out, riding and aftercare bath

Your name was sung from the bedroom, the sweet tone not giving you the warmth it usually did. “Wait a moment!” You called back as you added some cold milk to your steaming coffee. You gave it a good swirl and took a sip. Once you had determined it would not burn your throat to a crisp, you chugged the pint as fast as you could. 

“Alpha,” your husband whined as he came over to stand in the doorway to the kitchen. You sighed. You loved him so much, but his heats were long. Dick was fine at the moment, just still unbelievably horny and cranking up the AC to fight the furnace his hormones turned his body into. 

“I’m coming,” you sighed as you put the beer glass into the sink. You had barely turned around when your omega cornered you against the sink. His nose was in your neck, taking deep sniffs, burying itself into your scent glands. “I can’t believe you’re out here walking around after we just fucked for hours,” you whined as you draped your arms over Dick and rested your body against him.

Dick had started peppering your neck in kisses. His pheromones were keeping you from just tapping out and calling a service. This wasn’t the first time you spent Dick’s heat together, but each time you forgot how Dick’s stamina was far greater than your own. “I just can’t get enough of you,” Dick purred as he started leading you out of the kitchen. You followed him back to the bedroom. The whole room smelled of sweat and sex, empty 2 litre water bottles scattering the floor, along with dirty towels, clothes and wet wipes that have long since dried out. “Just lie back, alpha, I got it from here,” Dick mused as he pushed you onto the dirty sheets. You couldn’t care less, you were still dirty from your last romp anyway. 

You hadn’t bothered putting on clothes while you had gone for your coffee break. It gave your partner free access to your limp cock resting against your thigh. Dick didn’t waste time putting it in his mouth. You expected him to make quick work of getting you hard again, but he just lied there, face buried in your pelvis as he suckled on your soft cock. You let out a sigh, thankful for the gentle and slow start. You reached down, running your fingers through Dick’s hair while he brought you gentle pleasure. 

Your body relaxed. Warmth all around you. The mattress dipped nicely. You pulled a pillow down to rest your head on and… yeah you dozed off. You didn’t know for how long, but when consciousness found you again, the first sight that greeted you was Dick deepthroating you, his spit encasing your cock and dripping down your balls. He looked at you, teary eyed, and smiled with his mouth full of cock when your eyes looked back at him. The omega pulled off and wiped his glistening lips. “Looks like my alpha is ready to go,” he joked as he shifted. You registered about three words of that, but the meaning of whatever he said was of no importance as you felt his wet hole slide down on you. He was hot inside, the heat almost scorching you. 

A long whine left your lips as you let your head fall onto the pillow below your head. Filthy words of praise left Dick’s mouth as he panted on your cock, riding it like he had been waiting on it for ages. You were exhausted beyond imagination, but somehow you were hard as a rock and even bucking up into your omega. Dick used you like a dildo, not thinking about your pleasure at all as he grinded his hole down on you, while stimulating himself with a hand between his spread open legs. “Slow down, please, I am not going to last long like this,” you panted, lifting your head to behold the epitome of lewdness. 

Dick had his eyes closed, mouth open to let out the moans that bubbled up from where he found himself in heaven. “Yes, please, knot me again,” he begged, body moving rapidly like he had an undepletable source of energy. He did the exact opposite of what you asked, desperately seeking that which scratched the itch of his instinctual needs. “Please, alpha, please,” he almost screamed, lost in the pleasure of being filled and the hunger for more. He needn’t beg. You were at his mercy, at the mercy of his heat. 

You tried to think of unsexy things, determined to hold on a little longer, but your mind drifted to Dick sucking your cock while you had a little nap. You were bound to fall asleep on him again some time soon and you hoped he would continue to use your body like he had before. It was a train of thought you should not have entertained; the tension in your abdomen snapped and you pulled Dick down onto your quickly-swelling knot. Relief washed over you as you groaned and pumped another load into your mate. Dick howled, lost in the pleasure as he kept riding you. What started as a nice milking, quickly turned into torture. The man on top of you did not stop. He kept riding your knot, his hole so stretched that it almost slipped out with every lift of his hips. “More, more, more,” he begged, hands landing on your chest. His face hung over yours, his tongue slipping out as his eyes crossed. You tried to hold him still, but his hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. 

You struggled in his grip, but there was no energy left in you and Dick was not exactly your typical frail omega. You begged him to stop, to not stop, to… Anything. Your words met his ears, but never reached his mind, brain too fogged up on pleasure to register a single word coming from you. Miracles still existed when you found yourself orgasm again. Your body went slack, giving up and just taking it. Dick has been fucked so much the past few days, he could lift himself off your knot and then force it back inside. You barely registered the mess he was making on your torso. Pleas wanted to make themselves known, but you could only scream while you swimmed in the ocean of pleasure and pain. 

Did you cum again? You had no idea. At some point, things went black. You never saw the way Dick did not even realise you had blacked out from the overstimulation. You never saw him cum on your cock over and over until it wasn’t hard enough to ride anymore. You never saw him rub himself all over your thigh, getting off on your skin again, humping you like a dog. You never saw him watch your sleeping body while he fisted himself to give himself the feeling of being knotted. The only thing that reached you were his repeated cries of your name that influenced your dreams. 

When the morning light reached through the crack in the curtains to touch your face, you woke with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as a lesbian at a sausage party. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, vision a little blurry for a moment. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking around the room. There was a bit of water left, but the bottle was at the other side of the room. Your eyes scanned the room, anxiety growing within you when you did not see your partner anywhere. “Dick?” You called out, voice rough. 

“Bath!” A reply came from the distance. You let out a sigh of relief, climbing off the bed to get to the water bottle. You chugged the last bit as you almost limped to the bathroom. The small room was filled with the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. You could see the steam come off the hot water in the tub, but your lover seemed unbothered by the heat. When he saw you, he reached down to pull the plug. You waited as Dick let the bath empty a little, before turning on the cold tap. When he deemed the bath at a suitable temperature for you, you joined him, the water splashing over the side, but neither of you mentioned it. 

“It’s still hot!” You complained as you settled with your back against Dick’s chest. Your omega chuckled and wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you against him, while you let the hot water relax your exhausted body. 

“This is as cold as I am willing to go and you know it.” You hummed in reply, closing your eyes, ears now finally able to notice the soft jazz that echoed off the bathroom tiles. “Don’t sleep. I will make you breakfast once I can stand straight again.” You didn’t hear him say it, already snoozing in that overheated bathtub. 

—————

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[starmocha]

calling your name [Dawnbreaker/MC, implied Zayne/MC ★ 1506 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] The jasmine was about to blossom. A/N: I haven’t written anything in 2 years due to reasons, so lol IDK what I’m doing. I was also supposed to be working on a different LNDS ficlet, but Dawnbreaker called, so I answered, because I love him lots and want to give him the universe. Slight divergence from the end of the anecdote.

On a window sill, a small pot housing an unflowered jasmine plant was meticulously cared for as its owner waited for the first blossoms.

He saw the girl in his dreams again.

He did not dare utter her sweet name, let alone think it, for it caused him to ache and yearn for her, someone who would forever be beyond his reach across time and space.

He had gone on years and years, watching her from afar in his dreams. It felt so wrong, this feeling of voyeurism, forced to see the object of his affection with that other man, this being who shared his likeness and name, but they were not the same person.

While that other man lived freely, carrying the revered title of doctor, an angel on earth who saved countless lives with his scarred hands, he was his opposite.

He walked in shadows, evading police as he took numerous lives with his ice-cold hands. One could argue he was an angel of mercy, appearing to those who knew they were on the brink of losing the last remnants of their humanity. He himself saw nothing of the sort, only knowing he was shackled to this fate of walking the earth alone, bearing the burden of taking doomed lives to protect the still living. To some, he was the Grim Reaper, appearing in his dark clothes, expressionless, as he swiftly took the lives waiting for him. Others knew him as Dawnbreaker, the callous serial killer who left behind nothing of his victims to show that they ever existed.

He himself was just Zayne. The names, titles, and monikers bestowed upon him meant nothing to the young man, who had no one in his life to even call for him or remember him. He was used to silence, to the solitude, understanding that this was his fate.

He lived in purgatory, moving like clockwork and seeing neither joy nor sadness in this monotone world. When nightfall descended, he escaped to heaven where the girl was. Never alone, she was always happily side-by-side with the doctor. He stole glimpses of her smiles, pocketing them as if they were his and his alone. How pitiful of him, to relish in something that was not for him.

He learned not to care, to savor what little joy he was able to greedily take for himself. He lived this way for years, as a voyeur, a thief, an imposter.

When the day came the girl saw him within their dreamscape, he did not know how to react. He stilled, her words left him shaken inside:

“You…aren’t Dr. Zayne. Who are you?”

He didn’t know what to tell her. He didn’t know what to do in this moment. For as long as he could remember, she was always within reach in his dream ever since that fated night so long ago when he was a child. Now, she was here, in front of him, seeing him.

I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. I can’t—

And then he felt an unfamiliar warmth on his cheek. Her hand caressed his face, memorizing the shape and feel of him that was near identical to the doctor, but perhaps in her eyes alone they were not.

“Why do you look so sad?”

He looked mildly surprised. He searched within him for words, for his voice, unprepared for this sudden moment of being able to speak with her at last. The seconds that felt like eternity to him ended with one simple phrase: “Do I?”

She nodded once and then she disappeared, and he awakened in a cold sweat.

She saw him. She touched him. She spoke to him.

What did it mean? He didn’t know, didn’t have an answer or theory to this new development.

He touched his cheek, her warmth still lingering. The only thing he knew was that he needed to see her again, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t disappear, that she would speak to him once more.

The next night, she appeared before him again, and just like the previous time, she saw him.

“What’s your name?”

He hesitated, but he answered her, “Zayne.”

She looked surprised, but she didn’t act on it. Instead, she smiled and introduced herself. He almost wanted to laugh in incredulous amusement at the situation, having known her name already from so long ago. He restrained his amusement, and he smiled back. “Pleased to meet you.”

They crossed path again, and again, and again. Each time, without hesitation, her eyes lighted with joy for him.

For him.

Him.

He didn’t dare to feel happiness, unsure if he was even deserving of such feelings. But he smiled. He greeted her smiles with his, feeling peace in the moments with her.

He wished he could dream forever, to always have her by his side until the end of time itself.

He no longer envied the doctor, no longer stole moments that were not his to take.

The dream world had changed, molding into bustling cities long ago full of parks, restaurants, and cafés for him to wander with her by his side, to create memories that were for just the two of them to share.

The smiles came naturally, his eyes focused only on her as she chatted and showed him things he did not know in his own world. He listened to her stories, hearing unfamiliar names of the people in her life, but he was engrossed nonetheless, holding onto her every word like a lifeline. When she mentioned the doctor, she paused, seemingly conflicted.

“Go on,” he urged her gently, being rewarded instantly with her kind smile. He didn’t remember the anecdotes she shared of the doctor. He had become too drunk on her voice, too enamored by her pure existence to even think lucidly anymore.

Oh, how he wished he could stay intoxicated, to always keep this feeling of euphoria within himself.

“Do you like chocolate?” she asked after slipping her hand into his coat pocket for warmth, being surprised when she brushed against a small chocolate square.

He himself was surprised to see the sweet treat, having forgotten he was the one who had placed it there in the first place. He pondered, unsure. He ate a lot of chocolate, not disliking it obviously, but he wondered if he could even describe it as his favorite thing to have. It had become more of a habit than anything else really.

“I do not dislike it,” he said after a moment of thought.

She smiled, seemingly understanding him, and unwrapped the little square, taking a delicate bite for herself. “If I have something sweet, I’d be happy, even if it was a bad day.”

He mulled over her words, thinking how it perfectly matched his own feelings.

“Are you tired?” he asked her as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

They found themselves sitting on a beach, watching a sunset. The sound of waves crashing gently upon the shore filled the silence. She shook her head, but her eyes closed. He gazed down at the top of her head, and he placed a kiss, pulling her closer into his embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“For being here…with me.”

His days remained the same, his tasks unchanging as always. The police records for Dawnbreaker had all mysteriously disappeared, leaving him to freely move about without interference. When dusk finally approached, he counted down the minutes to when sleep would come for him, and her as well.

In the world that they shared, he felt as if he had snuck into heaven, knowing this was something never for him to have. When she looked at him, gentle eyes full of delight and love, he knew he would bend time and space for her.

“Zayne…”

He leaned forth, her soft lips beckoned him to claim them as his, to steal away all of her sweet kisses for himself. Just as their lips were about to touch, he found himself alone in darkness.

The girl was gone.

He called out for her, searched for her within the empty space.

His feet pounded on the floor, echoing in the darkness, as he ran into the void. His heart raced, a cold dread stirred within him, as he found himself approaching a light at the end of the path. He touched against an invisible barrier, separating him and her once more.

He saw her, through the transparent wall, his beloved’s face was wracked with confusion and heartache. Her mouth formed his and the doctor’s name, but the person she sought was gone. In his place stood the doctor as he tried to console the hysterical girl, unable to fathom the cause of her tears and emotional distress, but at the same time, he was unwilling to let her hurt alone.

He watched, helpless, as another man embraced her, soothed her, loved her.

He closed his eyes.

He awoke to a sweet fragrance in his bedroom.

The jasmine had blossomed, and his heart broke.

[whencyclopedia]

William Tyndale

William Tyndale (l.c. 1494-1536) was a talented English linguist, scholar and priest who was the first to translate the Bible into English. Tyndale objected to the Catholic Church’s control of scripture in Latin and the prohibition against an English translation. His work formed the basis of all other English translations of the Bible up through the modern era.

The Latin Vulgate Bible, translated from the original by Saint Jerome (l. 347-420), assisted by Saint Paula (l. 347-404) was considered the only true version by the Church, and translation into the vernacular, in any country, was forbidden. Even before the Reformation began in 1517, however, European scholars had already translated the Bible into their own languages, the German translation by Martin Luther (l. 1483-1546) being only one among many. The proto-reformer John Wycliffe (l. 1330-1384) had translated the Bible from the Vulgate to Middle English in c. 1380 but volumes of this work had been burned after his death.

Tyndale requested permission from ecclesiastical authorities to translate the Bible from the original Hebrew and Greek but was denied. He then left for Germany where he translated and published his work on the New Testament and part of the Old Testament, along with other writings, and had them smuggled into England. Tyndale is recognized as the first to translate the Bible into English, rather than Wycliffe, because he worked from the original languages, not just the Latin translation, as Wycliffe had done.

Tyndale moved about to maintain safety after Henry VIII (r. 1509-1547) called for his arrest and was well-protected by wealthy merchants in Antwerp when he was betrayed by Henry Phillips, a man he thought was his friend, and imprisoned. He was executed by strangulation and his body burned at the stake in October 1536. Three years later, the English version of the Bible completed by his colleague Myles Coverdale (l. 1488-1569) was published in England with the king’s approval. Tyndale and Coverdale are both honored in the present day as the first to translate the Bible into English even though it is acknowledged that Coverdale largely developed Tyndale’s earlier work.

Early Life & Education

Little is known of Tyndale’s early life. He is said to have been born in the village of Stinchcombe, Gloucestershire sometime between 1491-1494 with most scholars favoring the later date. The family was of the upper class, descended from the Tyndales of Northumberland, and his brother, Edward, is recorded as holding a prominent position The family went by the name of Hychyns as well as Tyndale and William Tyndale used both alternately when young. He was educated from an early age, though the details are unknown, and was enrolled at Oxford University in 1506, receiving his Bachelor of Arts degree in 1512 and his master’s degree in 1515.

In 1512 he had also been ordained a priest and served as a subdeacon in religious services. By 1517, he was enrolled at Cambridge University and displayed a talent for learning languages, becoming fluent in French, German, Greek, Hebrew, Italian, Latin, and Spanish. Although associated with the Catholic Church as subdeacon between c. 1512-1521, he seems to have left that position to become a tutor for the children of Sir John Walsh of Gloucestershire c. 1521.

By this time, the religious and social movement that came to be known as the Protestant Reformation was underway in Germany, led by Martin Luther, and in Switzerland through the efforts of Huldrych Zwingli (l. 1484-1531). England, however, remained a Catholic country under Henry VIII who received the honorary title of 'Defender of the Faith' from the Pope for his written work condemning Luther and his teachings. In the same year that Tyndale took the position at the Walsh household, Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal Archbishop of York (l.c. 1473-1530), presided over a public burning of Luther’s works in London at St. Paul’s Cross.

Continue reading...

[richincolor]

Crystal's 2024 Favorites

This year was full of awesome new young adult books and as usual it was difficult to figure out which ones would make my list of favorites. There were about ten that stood out, but these are the final four that really made a lasting impression and I would highly recommend.

The Quince Project by Jessica Parra [Our Group Discussion] Wednesday Books

Castillo Torres, Student Body Association event chair and serial planner, could use a fairy godmother. After a disastrous mishap at her sister’s quinceañera, all of Cas’s plans are crumbling. So when a local lifestyle-guru-slash-party-planner opens up applications for the internship of her dreams, Cas sees it as the perfect opportunity to learn every trick in the book so that things never go wrong again.

The only catch is that she needs more party planning experience before she can apply. When she books a quinceañera for a teen Disneyland vlogger, Cas thinks her plan is taking off…until she discovers that the party is just a publicity stunt and she begins catching feelings for the chambelán. As her agenda begins to go off-script, Cas finds that real life may be more complicated than a fairy tale.

But maybe Happily Ever Afters aren’t just for the movies. Can Cas go from planner to participant in her own life? Or will this would-be princess turn into a pumpkin at the end of the ball?

Dragonfruit by Makiia Lucier [Crystal's Review] Clarion Books

In the old tales, it is written that the egg of a seadragon, dragonfruit, holds within it the power to undo a person’s greatest sorrow. But as with all things that offer hope when hope had gone, the tale came with a warning.

Every wish demands a price.

Hanalei of Tamarind is the cherished daughter of an old island family. But when her father steals a seadragon egg meant for an ailing princess, she is forced into a life of exile. In the years that follow, Hanalei finds solace in studying the majestic seadragons that roam the Nominomi Sea. Until, one day, an encounter with a female dragon offers her what she desires most. A chance to return home, and to right a terrible wrong.

Samahtitamahenele, Sam, is the last remaining prince of Tamarind. But he can never inherit the throne, for Tamarind is a matriarchal society. With his mother ill and his grandmother nearing the end of her reign. Sam is left with two choices: to marry, or to find a cure for the sickness that has plagued his mother for ten long years. When a childhood companion returns from exile, she brings with her something he has not felt in a very long time-hope.

But Hanalei and Sam are not the only ones searching for the dragonfruit. And as they battle enemies both near and far, there is another danger they cannot escape…that of the dragonfruit itself.

A Tempest of Tea (Blood and Tea #1) by Hafsah Faizal Farrar, Straus and Giroux

On the streets of White Roaring, Arthie Casimir is a criminal mastermind and collector of secrets. Her prestigious tearoom transforms into an illegal bloodhouse by dark, catering to the vampires feared by society. But when her establishment is threatened, Arthie is forced to strike an unlikely deal with an alluring adversary to save it—and she can’t do the job alone.

Calling on some of the city’s most skilled outcasts, Arthie hatches a plan to infiltrate the dark and glittering vampire society known as the Athereum. But not everyone in her ragtag crew is on her side, and as the truth behind the heist unfolds, Arthie finds herself in the midst of a conspiracy that will threaten the world as she knows it.

From the New York Times–bestselling author of We Hunt the Flame comes the first book in a hotly-anticipated fantasy duology teeming with romance, revenge, and an orphan girl willing to do whatever it takes to save her self-made kingdom. Dark, action-packed, and swoonworthy, this is Hafsah Faizal better than ever.

A Crane Among Wolves by June Hur [Crystal's Review] Feiwel & Friends

Hope is dangerous. Love is deadly.

1506, Joseon. The people suffer under the cruel reign of the tyrant King Yeonsan, powerless to stop him from commandeering their land for his recreational use, banning and burning books, and kidnapping and horrifically abusing women and girls as his personal playthings.

Seventeen-year-old Iseul has lived a sheltered, privileged life despite the kingdom’s turmoil. When her older sister, Suyeon, becomes the king’s latest prey, Iseul leaves the relative safety of her village, traveling through forbidden territory to reach the capital in hopes of stealing her sister back. But she soon discovers the king’s power is absolute, and to challenge his rule is to court certain death.

Prince Daehyun has lived his whole life in the terrifying shadow of his despicable half-brother, the king. Forced to watch King Yeonsan flaunt his predation through executions and rampant abuse of the common folk, Daehyun aches to find a way to dethrone his half-brother once and for all. When staging a coup, failure is fatal, and he’ll need help to pull it off—but there’s no way to know who he can trust.

When Iseul’s and Daehyun’s fates collide, their contempt for each other is transcended only by their mutual hate for the king. Armed with Iseul’s family connections and Daehyun’s royal access, they reluctantly join forces to launch the riskiest gamble the kingdom has ever seen:

Save her sister. Free the people. Destroy a tyrant.

[lizcameron]

Mr. Maybank | Part One

Pairing: Teacher!JJ x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Summary: The new long-term sub down the hall takes an interest in you. The longer you spend in his presence, the more you begin to realize he’s anything but a sub.

Word Count: 1506 Warning(s): hinting at Dom!JJ and innocence kink, angst, mentions of intercourse

You were writing the day’s learning objectives on the whiteboard at the front of your classroom when you heard footsteps entering your room.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong class,” a voice said.

You peered up in the direction of the door and spotted a man in a sport jacket and wide-rim glasses looking down at a sheet of paper.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Pickett’s class,” the man continued. He was tall with broad shoulders and dark blonde hair that brushed the top of his coat collar at the nape of his neck. His shirt was just fitting enough that his pectoral muscles pressed against the pale blue fabric. A strong jaw outlined his face, and icy blue eyes peered up at you over the rim of his glasses.

Your mouth hung open slightly as your mind went blank for a moment. When you noticed the awkward silence, you quickly blinked the daze out of your eyes.

“Uh- It’s- uh 2 doors down,” you managed to get out.

He gave you a polite nod, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smug smile.

What on earth was that? Had you forgotten how to speak? You shook the fog out of your head and resumed your task, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks.

As soon as you dropped your students off with the cafeteria monitors, you headed straight for the teachers’ lounge for a coffee refill. All morning your mind kept drifting to images of muscles straining against button-down shirts and perfect teeth bared in a handsome smile. You must not have gotten quality rest because you found it incredibly difficult to focus.

Upon entering the lounge, your eyes went wide when you saw the man from earlier that morning standing at the counter, pouring his own cup of coffee. You approached the counter, avoiding looking up at him while you waited silently for him to finish pouring. He held the coffee pot out to you without a word, and you took it gingerly.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly.

“So you’re Mrs. Y/l/n? I’ve heard of you, the teacher who can get through to even the toughest kid. Impressive,” he admired.

“Miss, actually - I‘m not married. And it’s not anything special, I just recognize that every child craves connection. Some of them just show it differently,” you remark, deflecting the compliment.

“You know, not many teachers care enough to cultivate a connection. The fact that you do with every student is very special,” he tributed, ducking his head to catch your downcast eyes. Who had this guy spoken to to know so much about your relationships with your students?

“Well thank you, Mr. Maybank,” you say with a glance at the badge on his lanyard. He was a substitute, but his ID indicated that his regular campus was the middle school. What was he doing at the elementary school?

The man’s gaze heated at your formal address. “You can call me JJ outside of my room,” he said, his voice low and deep. There was a flash of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes.

Your cheeks and chest heated under his watchful eye. “Oh… um, Y/n,” you replied, offering your own name.

You stepped closer to place the coffee pot back on the warmer. JJ stepped back, grabbing your waist to move around you. You gasped quietly. Focused only on the feel of his hands, you hardly noticed the brush of something else against the back of your dress as he left you.

Your computer pinged, signaling a new email as you waved goodbye to the last student after the final bell. You strode over to your desk, sitting down to clear your inbox before you left for the day. There at the top of the list was an email from JJ.

Join me for dinner. 7 PM at Miller’s.

You walked down the sidewalk that led up to the entrance of Miller’s Restaurant. It was a casual seafood restaurant just two blocks from your house, so you’d been there a few times. The food was good and the atmosphere nice, but you didn’t much favor eating out. You’d much rather cook an easy dinner and curl up in the comfort of your living room than brave the crowds of tourists at a beachfront seafood restaurant.

You’d warred with yourself over the decision to meet JJ for dinner. You weren’t often the subject of male attention, and you preferred it that way, favoring the company of children during the day and peaceful solitude at night. In the end you’d decided to throw on a solid, navy, knee-length dress. Your hair was half-down, the top tied behind your head by a thin ribbon. You’d elected to wear white sneakers since you were walking the short distance from your home to the restaurant.

As you approached the host’s stand, you scanned the tables for JJ. When you didn’t see him, you looked up at the host and smiled. “I’m meeting a JJ,” you proffered.

The host looked just over your shoulder and nodded. “Just in time -  your table is ready,” he beamed.

You looked behind you to see JJ strolling in, dressed in the same clothes he wore to school, having shed the coat and unlooped the top few buttons of his shirt. He flashed an approving grin at you as he approached.

“After you,” he conceded. You turned and followed the host to your table. When you felt an unexpected hand settle on the small of your back, a blush crept up your cheeks. You were directed to a booth in the back corner of the restaurant where JJ motioned for you to slide in first. You obliged, and JJ scooted in beside you. A passing waiter took your drink order before leaving the two of you alone in each other’s company.

“I was surprised by this invitation,” you blurted. “I’ve hardly spoken two words to you. How could you possibly find me interesting enough to ask me to dinner?”

“What can I say? ” JJ replied. “I wanted a chance to hear you speak more than two words. Do you not want to be here?” he poised, angling his body toward yours. When his thigh brushed against yours, you tensed nervously.

“No, I- uh. Yes, I do. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just not used to-,” you pause, searching for the words. “I’m a little rusty. I haven’t been out with another adult in a long time,” you admit, cheeks turning pink.

JJ’s eyes flashed and he clenched a fist on his leg. “What do you mean you haven’t been out with another adult?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“I keep t-to mys-self mostly, outside the company of my students,” you stammered.

“You’re telling me you don’t see friends? Haven’t been on a date?” JJ spat the last word, making you flinch. His jaw was clenched, and you couldn’t think of what you had done to make him suddenly so angry. This was already turning out to be something you regretted.

You inhale deeply before responding, attempting to squelch the tears that threatened to well up at the rudeness of this man who didn’t even know you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but no. I haven’t made many friends since moving here, and I haven’t been on a date in-,” you pause, mentally counting the time since your first boyfriend brutally broke your heart in college. “Five years - since my sophomore year.”

JJ clamped his eyes shut and drew in a ragged breath before fixing his intense stare on you. “I take it that also means you haven’t been touched by a man in five years,” he snarled.

Your eyes blazed with indignation. “You are unbelievably ill-mannered, Mr. Maybank. I will not subject myself to another minute of your disrespectful questioning,” you grated through clenched teeth, feeling uncharacteristically brazen at the man’s impertinence.

Just as you slammed your hands on the table to push yourself up and leave, a hand clamped down on your thigh, forcing you back down. You blanched and snapped your eyes to JJ, who bit his lips between his teeth before licking them.

“I thought I could make it at least through drinks with you,” JJ strained, making you want to shove his hands off of you and storm out of the restaurant. His rigid hand on your leg hitched further up your thigh as he continued. “But you’re just so, so good,” he cursed. “And it makes me want to do very bad things to you.”

Your lips part slightly, and your legs press together. JJ growled as he gripped your hand, yanking you along behind him. He snatched up a glass of brown liquor from the bar, throwing it down his throat and slamming it back down as he passed.

“Let’s go, sweetheart, before I take you right here on this bar.”

Well that escalated quickly. I was clearly craving something as I wrote this. This fic started out as an innocent, boy-next-door-esque piece before it morphed into something darker. An unfinished, fluffy Teacher!JJ piece still sits in my Google Docs waiting to be finished…

Please leave allllll the feedback. It’s been a long time since I’ve written creatively, so any analysis is helpful and much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

[lemoncrushh]

Cubicle // 1) Hot As Ice

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 1506

Monday // Harry

I met the hottest babe today. The HR lady (I can't ever get her name straight - Yvonne, Yvette?) brought her around the office to meet everyone. I'm assuming she works here now, and it wasn't one of those interview meet and greets.

I was sitting at my computer, pretending to work but mostly just staring at my screen. We're not allowed to use the internet for personal use. I was bored out of my skull. I heard some chatter behind me but didn't pay any attention until I heard my name.

"And this is Harry," HR lady said.

I swung my chair around and saw her. I'm quite certain my jaw dropped, and drool came out. She was fucking hot. Long hair, kind of a cross between brown and blonde, crystal-clear blue eyes, full pouty lips, and a body built for sin. She wore a dress that normally could be considered conservative, but on her it screamed fuck me. I tried hard not to stare at her rack, but the way the neckline stopped right at the middle of her cleavage made it difficult.

"Harry, this is Veronica."

I can't recall what HR lady said after that, if anything. I stood and extended my hand and Veronica shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Harry."

Fuck, she had a sexy voice too. And I couldn't help but notice she held on to my hand for a little longer as I said "likewise."

HR lady went on about some drivel I couldn't give a shit about. I couldn't stop staring at Veronica. She was definitely a ten. But before I knew it, Yvonne (pretty sure that's her name), waved her away from me and toward the break room. Veronica followed, but not before giving me a fucking amazing smile. She actually licked her bottom lip and then bit it! Not fucking lying.

I sat back down at my desk, careful not to sit on my balls that were throbbing. Running my hand down my face, I shook my head, hoping to get the imagine of Veronica naked out of it. The attempt was futile, however, as I heard her giggle from the break room. This was going to be a long day.

Tuesday // Roni

I'm not gonna lie. That Harry guy is a hottie. Probably a little young for me, maybe twenty at the most? But who the fuck cares when he looks like that? He has these amazing green eyes, and his lips... Jesus Christ those lips! I'd love to feel them on me is all I can say. And let's not forget his enticing deep voice.

After Yvonne, the Human Resources Director had introduced me to him, she ushered me into the break room which was probably a good thing. I could already feel myself flirting with him, and I could tell he noticed. At least I hope he'd noticed, but something tells me he's a bright young man. Plus, I caught him staring at my tits.

When I got to work this morning, I was hoping to run into him, but I didn't. I have no idea what kind of car he drives or when he usually gets to work, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. My luck changed, however, when Greta, my supervisor, asked me to scan a few documents for her and save them as PDF files. She told me if I had any questions I could ask Harry Styles.

"Hi...Harry, right?" I asked as I walked up to his desk, manila folder in my hands.

"Um...yeah...hi...Veronica," he stumbled as he pushed his chair back. It made that annoying click sound that plastic casters make when they don't roll quite as well as they once did.

"Please, call me Roni," I insisted. "Only my stepmother and my piano teacher call me Veronica."

"You play piano?" Harry asked.

"Among other things," I teased as I licked my lips.

The left side of Harry's mouth slowly curled back into a sexy little smirk, exposing the most adorable dimple. Could he be any cuter?

"So," I finally said, getting down to business, "I've been told you can help me with the scanner."

"Oh, right. Yeah." Harry stood up and I followed him around his cubicle to the one behind his, the empty one closest to the break room. It housed its own computer with an all-in-one printer/scanner.

"Did they tell you the code?" Harry asked me.

"What?"

Harry grinned, seeing that I had no clue what he was talking about.

"It's ridiculous, really. But for security reasons, you have to type in a passcode to use this computer. I guess they don't want anyone using it for personal reasons. It monitors everything you do."

"God, you can't have any fun here, can you?" I joked.

"I'm afraid not," he chuckled.

After Harry put in the passcode and opened the necessary software for my scanning needs, he briefly explained how to use the scanner. I humoured him by acting like I'd never used one before, when in reality I had one just like it at home.

"So what about you?" I asked as I sat down and began scanning my documents.

"Me?" he questioned, sitting in the extra chair.

"Tell me about yourself. How long have you been working here?"

"A little over two months, I reckon."

"Really?" I was surprised. "Not very long then."

"No."

"Do you like it here?"

Harry pursed his lips. "It's alright."

"It's a job," I nodded.

"Yeah."

"What do you like to do for fun?"

I realized I had put him on the spot as he sat up and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Same as everyone else."

I looked at him, internally debating on whether or not to ask him what was really on my mind, but I decided against it. If I was going to get him into my bed, I needed to ease into it.

"Well, I guess that's about it," I announced as I grabbed my last document and returned it to the manila folder. "Thanks for your help, Harry."

"Um, you're welcome. But it doesn't look like you really needed my help that much," he declared.

"I know," I grinned as I stood up. "I just wanted an excuse to see you."

I winked and turned around, heading back toward my office. I could feel Harry's eyes on me which was such a turn-on. I had a hard time concentrating on my work for the next couple hours.

Harry

What the fuck is this woman doing to me? I could feel a stiffy growing in my shorts as she licked her lips. Then she asked me what I like to do for fun. What could I say? That the only kind of fun I'd like to have right now is seeing her with my dick in her mouth? No, Styles, I told myself. She might be flirting with you, but it doesn't mean she's that kind of girl. Get a grip.

But then she fucking admitted to me that the scanner was just an excuse to see me. She winked at me and then walked away, her hot little ass rotating back and forth in her tight skirt. I couldn't handle it. As soon as she was out of eyesight, I ran to the toilet and locked myself in the stall. I had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. This has never happened to me before. I'm not saying I'm a womanizer, but I've had pretty good luck so far in the female department. I feel like I've met my match.

When I returned to my desk, Travis peeked his head around the cubicle divider.

"Hey, mate, you alright?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, a bit perturbed.

"I just saw you bolt for the toilets earlier."

"Oh. Yeah." I shrugged it off. Let him think I was sick or something.

"Don't worry. She's definitely into you," I heard him say.

"What?" I swung around my chair.

"That Veronica chick," Travis confirmed.

"Yeah?"

"Just be careful," he warned. "You know, inter-office relationships."

"Is that against the rules?" I asked. I hadn't really gotten around to reading the office manual.

"I don't think so. But it's a little frowned upon. You know, because something could go wrong and cost you your job."

"Has that happened before?"

"Not since I've been here," Travis continued in a hushed voice. "But...I'd heard one of the bosses started dating his secretary a few years back. He wanted to break it off and she didn't. It got ugly and I think there was even a lawsuit. So...you know...just be careful."

He turned his chair around and scooted back to his cubicle. I sighed and turned to face my own computer. If this Roni thing was going to happen - and I was damn sure going to see that it did - I needed to act fast. Job or no job, that babe was going to be mine.

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[litcest]

The House of Borgia: End of a Dynasty (Part 4)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | References |

While the Conclave elected Pope Pius III, Cesare was occupied trying to find allies. His old friend, King Louis XII, came to his aid, issuing a statement to Romagna that their Duke was "alive and well and the friend of the King of France". Not only Cesare had the French's support, but he also counted on Ferrara's troops to protect his claim on Romagna, as Lucrezia had persuaded her husband and father-in-law to fight in her brother's defence.

Once Romagna was relatively stable and Cesare felt better, he returned to Rome, where he met with Pius III and had his position as Captain confirmed. Not only that, but due to Cesare's clever theft of the Papal Treasury, Pius III was left financially dependent on him. By all accounts, Cesare's life would continue on exactly as it had under Rodrigo's papacy.

Unfortunately for Cesare, Pius III died twenty six days after being elected Pope. The next Pope, Julius II, had been an old enemy of Rodrigo, and upon his election, was swift to force the Borgias to surrender their lands in Romagna, even ordering the new Captain of the Papal Forces to arrest Cesare when he refused to comply.

After Cesare's arrest, Julius decided to put him on trial and encouraged those wronged by him to file claims for financial compensation. Not only that, but Julius also charged Cesare with the murder of two cardinals, whose deaths were believed to have been arranged by Rodrigo. These trials never occurred, as in April 1503, Cesare was released in exchange for his remaining territories in Romagna. Once free, he departed for Naples, which was under Spanish rule and where the rest of the Borgias had taken refuge, with the exception og Lucrezia, who remained with her husband in Ferrara. Hardly had Cesare set foot in Naples when he was imprisoned again, as King Ferdinand of Spain wished to hand Cesare back to Julius II in exchange for an alliance against the French.

Cesare would remain imprisoned in Spain until 1506, when he managed to escape prison and seek refuge with his brother-in-law, Juan d'Albret, King of Navarre. Taking advantage of a civil war wrecking through Navarre, Cesare offered his services as a military leader to help King Juan reclaim the kingdom. This would prove to be Cesare's downfall, as on 12 March 1507, he was killed in battle by the revolting troops. 

Six weeks would pass until the news of his death reached Lucrazia, who was, by this point, the Duchess of Ferrara. It's said that upon learning of her brother's fate, she locked herself in her room and began to wail his name. In 1508, Lucrezia would finally give birth to a son by d'Este, named Ercole II, who would be followed by Ippolito in 1509, Leonora in 1515, Francesco in 1516 and Isabella Maria in 1519. This last birth proved itself to be terribly complicated and claimed the lives of both mother and daughter.

Rodrigo, due to being a pope, was given a tomb in the Basilica di San Pietro, near his uncle's resting place. In 1586, Rodrigo's bones were dug up and placed on a casket alongside Alfonso's, which, in 1610, was taken to Santa Maria in Monserrato degli Spagnoli, where the casket was set aside and forgotten about until 1864, when it was unexpectedly found. It would take until 1889 for the joined remains to be once again given a proper tomb, with a stone memorial being carved in honour of Alfonso and Rodrigo.

Cesare was buried in a tomb by Juan d'Albret in the church of Santa Maria of Viana, in front of the high altar. His tomb, however, was destroyed by the bishop of Calahorra some time later, with Cesare's body being dumped in a hole outside the church. In 1945, the remains were exhumed and an autopsy was performed. The remains then bounced from place to place until finally being reburied in the church in 2007. 

Lucrezia, meanwhile, was buried in Monastero del Corpus Domini, in Ferrara, alongside the other Dukes and Duchess of Ferrara. In time, Alfonso d'Este joined her, as did her children and grandchildren

Thus, the era of Borgia dominance came to a close. Although the family continued to hold titles in the subsequent years (most notably, Rodrigo's great-grandson, Francis Borgia, was canonized as a saint) they never reclaimed the formidable power they once commanded during Rodrigo's papacy. Yet, Rodrigo, Cesare, and Lucrezia did not fade into obscurity. Their legacy endured, capturing the public imagination for centuries to come. Indeed, as the chronicles of their lives spread through the courts of Europe, their reputation grew, blending reality and legend. Their lives continue to fascinate audiences, inspiring countless reinterpretations in literature, drama, and visual media even to this day.

[intriguingpeoplebyangelafloyd]

CESARE BORGIA

CESARE BORGIA

13 September 1475 – 12 March 1507

            Cesare Borgia was the son of Pope Alexander VI. Cesare was an Italian nobleman who gained power and influence but lost it all after his father’s death. Cesare became a cardinal at the age of 17 and succeeded his brother-in-law as papal captain general. A brilliant soldier, he regained the central Italian states for the papacy.

            Borgia was born in Rome and was the son of the Pope and his mistress, Vannozza dei Cattaneihis. His father openly recognized his children born out of wedlock. Cesare was brought up for a career in the church and went on to study law. His brother Giovanni was assassinated in 1497 under mysterious circumstances.

            The pope gave Cesare a state in northern Italy where Cesare took power and became commander of the papal armies. He was sent to capture Imola and Forli, ruled by Caterina Sforza. He returned to Rome in triumph.

            Pope Alexander VI died in 1503, the next pope, Pius III supported Cesare but died after 26 days. Cesare’s enemy Pope Julius II came into power, and Cesare faced hostility from Ferdinand II of Aragon. In 1504, Cesare was taken to Spain and imprisoned there. He escaped and made it to Pamplona in 1506 and welcomed by King John III of Navarre, who needed a military commander.

            In the early hours of 12 March 1507, a group of knights discovered Cesare alone and had him trapped. He was killed with a spear, his luxurious clothing was stripped from him, his valuables were taken away and he was left naked. Cesare was buried in a mausoleum in Viana which was later destroyed. A bishop who considered him a ‘degenerate’ tore down his monument and his remains were moved numerous times since.  

            Borgias was married and had 11 children. He was rumoured to have had an affair with his sister Lucrezia Borgia. Her third husband was assassinated by her father and brother.

            Borgia had a reputation for treachery and murder but was also a patron of Leonardo Da Vinci. Cesare employed Leonardo da Vinci as an architect in 1502. He left Italy and went into service in France.

#cesareborgia #theborgias

[cruger2984]

THE DESCRIPTION OF SAINT FRANCIS XAVIER The Patron of Foreign Missions Feast Day: December 3

"Many, many people hereabouts are not becoming Christians for one reason only: there is nobody to make them Christians."

He was born Francisco de Jasso y Azpilicueta on April 7, 1506 at Javier, Kingdom of Navarre in northern Spain to an influential noble family. He was the youngest son of Don Juan de Jasso y Atondo, Lord of Idocín, president of the Royal Council of the Kingdom of Navarre, and seneschal of the Castle of Xavier and Doña María de Azpilcueta y Aznárez, sole heiress to the Castle of Xavier. Miguel de Jasso (later Miguel de Javier), his brother, became Lord of Xavier and Idocín at the death of his parents.

In 1512, Ferdinand, King of Aragon and regent of Castile, invaded Navarre, initiating a war that lasted over 18 years. Three years later, Francis's father died when Francis was only nine years old. In 1516, Francis's brothers participated in a failed Navarrese-French attempt to expel the Spanish invaders from the kingdom. The Spanish Governor, Cardinal Cisneros, confiscated the family lands, demolished the outer wall, the gates, and two towers of the family castle, and filled in the moat. In addition, the height of the keep was reduced by half.

In 1525, Francis went to study in Paris at the Collège Sainte-Barbe, University of Paris, where he spent the next eleven years. In the early days he acquired some reputation as an athlete and a high-jumper. Four years later, Francis shared lodgings with his friend Pierre Favre. A new student, Íñigo López de Oñaz y Loyola (later Ignatius of Loyola), came to room with them. At 38, Ignatius was much older than Pierre and Francis, who were both 23 at the time. Ignatius convinced Pierre to become a priest, but was unable to convince Francis, who had aspirations of worldly advancement. At first, Francis regarded the new lodger as a joke and was sarcastic about his efforts to convert students. When Pierre left their lodgings to visit his family and Ignatius was alone with Francis, he was able to slowly break down Francis's resistance. In 1530, Francis received the degree of Master of Arts, and afterwards taught Aristotelian philosophy at Beauvais College, University of Paris.

Francis began his study of theology in 1534 and was ordained on June 24, 1537. In 1539, after long discussions, Ignatius drew up a formula for a new religious order, the Society of Jesus. Ignatius's plan for the order was approved by Pope Paul III in 1540.

Francis was sent as a missionary to India. After a voyage of 13 months, he began preaching in the Portuguese colony of Goa (a state on the southwestern coast of India within the Konkan region), defending the natives from injustices and abuses. He was particularly outraged that some masters counted the blows inflicted on the slaves on the beads of their rosaries. Five months later, he preached with such enthusiasm among the Paravas on the Pearl Fishery Coast that most of them asked to be baptized. He also knew how to accept defeat, as when he preached for 12 months among the Brahmans obtaining only one conversion.

In Malacca in December 1547, Francis Xavier met a Japanese man named Anjirō (or Yajirō). had heard of Francis in 1545 and had travelled from Kagoshima to Malacca to meet him. Having been charged with murder, Anjirō had fled Japan. He told Francis extensively about his former life, and the customs and culture of his homeland. Anjirō became the first Japanese Christian and adopted the name 'Paulo de Santa Fé'. He later helped Xavier as a mediator and interpreter for the mission to Japan that now seemed much more possible. Francis returned to Goa to attend to his responsibilities as superior of the mission there in January 1548. The next 15 months were occupied with various journeys and administrative measures. He left Goa on April 15, 1549, stopped at Malacca, and visited Canton. He was accompanied by Anjiro, two other Japanese men, Father Cosme de Torrès and Brother Juan Fernández. He had taken with him presents for the 'King of Japan (the Emperor)' since he was intending to introduce himself as the Apostolic Nuncio.

With Anjirō and three other Jesuits, Xavier reached Japan on July 27, 1549, but he was not permitted to enter any port his ship arrived at until August 15th, when he went ashore at Kagoshima, the principal port of Satsuma Province on the island of Kyūshū. As a representative of the Portuguese king, he was received in a friendly manner. Takahisa Shimazu, the fifttenth head of the Shimazu clan, the son of Tadayoshi and daimyo (feudal lord) of Satsuma, gave a friendly reception to Francis on September 29, 1549, but in the following year he forbade the conversion of his subjects to Christianity under penalty of death; Christians in Kagoshima could not be given any catechism in the following years. Francis was the first Jesuit to go to Japan as a missionary.

He brought with him paintings of the Madonna and the Madonna and Child. These paintings were used to help teach the Japanese about Christianity. There was a huge language barrier as Japanese was unlike other languages the missionaries had previously encountered. For a long time, Francis struggled to learn the language. He was hosted by Anjirō's family until October 1550. He resided in Yamaguchi from October tom December 1550. Shortly before Christmas, he left for Kyoto but failed to meet with the Emperor. He returned to Yamaguchi in March 1551, where the daimyo of the province gave him permission to preach.

Having presented some gifts to them, a music box, a clock and a pair of spectacles. He was allowed to evangelize the people. It was Francis' opinion: 'That among all unbelievers, no finer people will be found than the Japanese.'

During his trip from Japan back to India, a tempest forced him to stop on an island near Guangzhou, Guangdong, China, where he met Diogo Pereira, a rich merchant and an old friend from Cochin. Pereira showed him a letter from Portuguese prisoners in Guangzhou, asking for a Portuguese ambassador to speak to the Chinese Emperor on their behalf. Later during the voyage, he stopped at Malacca on December 27, 1551, and was back in Goa by January 1552. He set sail with Diogo Pereira on the Santa Cruz for China. He planned to introduce himself as Apostolic Nuncio and Pereira as the ambassador of the King of Portugal. But then he realized that he had forgotten his testimonial letters as an Apostolic Nuncio. Back in Malacca, he was confronted by the captain Álvaro de Ataíde da Gama who now had total control over the harbour. The captain refused to recognize his title of Nuncio, asked Pereira to resign from his title of ambassador, named a new crew for the ship, and demanded the gifts for the Chinese Emperor be left in Malacca.

In late August 1552, the Santa Cruz reached the Chinese island of Shangchuan, 14 km away from the southern coast of mainland China, near Taishan, Guangdong, 200 km south-west of what later became Hong Kong. At this time, he was accompanied only by a Jesuit student, Álvaro Ferreira, a Chinese man called António, and a Malabar servant called Christopher. Around mid-November, he sent a letter saying that a man had agreed to take him to the mainland in exchange for a large sum of money. Having sent back Álvaro Ferreira, he remained alone with António. He died from a fever at Shangchuan, Taishan, China, on December 3, 1552, while he was waiting for a boat that would take him to mainland China. He was 46 years old when he died.

Beatified by Pope Paul V on October 25, 1619 and canonized a saint by Pope Gregory XV on March 12, 1622, his body is now in the Basilica of Bom Jesus in Goa, where it was placed in a glass container encased in a silver casket. This casket, constructed by Goan silversmiths between 1636 and 1637, was an exemplary blend of Italian and Indian aesthetic sensibilities.

In 1624, he was made co-patron of Navarre, and he is considered to be one of the greatest missionaries since St. Paul the Apostle. In 1927, Pope Pius XI published the decree 'Apostolicorum in Missionibus' naming Francis Xavier, along with Thérèse of Lisieux, co-patron of all foreign missions.

[bm2ab]

Crowd Scenes . 09 November 2024 . Triptic . Andrea Mantegna

Ascension of Christ Adoration of the Magi Presentation of Christ at the Temple Andrea Mantegna (Isola di Carturo (PD) 1431 - Mantua 1506)

Today the three panels form part of a triptych inserted in a Renaissance-style frame dating back to the 19th century. This is therefore an arbitrary reconstruction, and the original context must have been very different. The three scenes depict three Gospel stories. The one in the center illustrates, with many figures and details, the homage of the Magi to Baby Jesus, who sits on the lap of the Virgin Mary in the glory of angels and under the watchful gaze of the elderly Joseph. The natural scenery in which the episode is set is replaced in the scene on the right by a sumptuous and majestic architecture: the temple where Mary, according to Jewish custom, went to purify herself forty days after giving birth and where Jesus received the circumcision. The scene depicts Jesus in his mother's arms, retreating in fear before the priest who is about to perform the rite. On the other hand, the scene on the left is part of the stories of post-mortem Christ, and describes the last episode narrated in the Gospel of Luke, namely the ascension to heaven of the risen Christ, in the presence of his mother Mary and the apostles.

The three panels were part of a decorative cycle created by Andrea Mantegna and commissioned by Ludovico Gonzaga (1412-1478) for the chapel of the Saint George Castle in Mantua, which was lost due to subsequent renovations of the building. To the same cycle also belonged the scene of the Death of the Virgin, which is currently divided between Madrid (Prado Museum, inv. no. 248) and Ferrara (National Art Gallery inv. no. 333) and, perhaps, the Resurrection of Christ and Descent into Limbo, divided between Bergamo, Accademia Carrara, and a private collection. However, the reconstruction of the pictorial cycle, as well as its original location and the time of its execution, are still largely debated. The concave shape of the panel with the Adoration of the Magi, which is also wider than the other panels (while originally it must have been of the same height), suggests that the painting was made to fit a curved wall, probably a niche or a small apse in the chapel.

The creation of the pictorial cycle in the chapel of the Saint George Castle coincides with the period in which Andrea Mantegna moved from Padua to Mantua, where he was documented as early as 1460 and where he stayed until his death, thus becoming the favourite painter of the reigning family, the Gonzaga.

The three panels now in the Uffizi became famous in Florence in the collection of Don Antonio de' Medici (1576-1621), which he had inherited from his parents, Grand Duke Francesco I and Bianca Cappello, both died in 1587. It is believed that Francesco received the paintings on the occasion of the wedding of his daughter Eleonora with Vincenzo I Gonzaga in 1584.

Among the greatest interpreters and promoters of the renewal of north Italian painting following a Renaissance style, Andrea Mantegna was skilled in the use of perspective, as it is also revealed by how the sense of depth is given through the chequered floor in the scene of the Presentation at the Temple. The painter showed a keen interest in the culture and art of the ancient Greco-Roman civilization, on which he concentrated almost with the spirit of an archaeologist. He was an extraordinary draughtsman and managed to translate into painting Donatello's sculpture (1386-1466), who was active for a long time in Padua, Mantegna's birthplace.

[mythos-writes]

Only Mine

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Plot: None really... just smut ;)

Word Count: 1506

Warning: 18+ READERS ONLY, smut, dominant (BUT also soft)Tommy, needy reader, unprotective sex, possessive behaviour, bad grammar,

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

(Y/N) was waiting for Tommy to return from some business he had to do in London for a few days. Normally she would have gone with him, but she wasn’t informed that he was leaving for London, except for the letter he left for her on the kitchen table. She should be mad at him for not telling her, but knowing who would be in London, it was probably better that she stayed. But that doesn’t mean that she can torture Tommy a little when he got home.

She was sitting in the lounge, a glass of whiskey beside her while reading one of the many books the Shelbys have. The fireplace was roaring along. When she heard the door open and shut rather loudly, she knew he was home.

“(Y/N)?” he yells out. She closes the book before replying.

“In here dear,” with the sound of his footsteps coming closer, she had missed her husband. When he walked into the room, she smiled at him.

“Welcome home Tommy,” she says, still sitting on the sofa. Tommy observes her, before moving closer to kiss her.

“I’ve missed you,” he says while going in for another kiss.

“If I came along, then you wouldn’t have missed me so,” she jokes, making a small jab at him. He pulls away and his icy blues struck down her (Y/E/C).

“You would have found this trip quite boring my love,” he states while going to pour himself a drink.

“Oh really? So what was this boring meeting about anyway?” she questions.

“Just a meeting with Mr. Alfie Solomons,” he states while lighting a cigarette, making her blood run cold. (Y/N) and Alfie’s relationship was once a good one, they had grown up together, and he introduced her to Tommy and the Peaky Blinders. But then he did something that he had promised her that he would never do, and that betrayed her. He had destroyed her trust in him with a single action. Ever since then, she hadn't talked to or even seen him.

“What did that git want?” she questions, downing the rest of her drink. Tommy let out a breathy laugh at her actions before sitting beside her. Passing his smoke to her, offering her a drag. She takes it and takes a long drag, letting the smoke fill her long, before handing it back to him. The smoke billows out of her nostrils and mouth, Tommy admiring the illusion it gave her.

“It was just a brief visit, my dear. Just checking that everything was still running smoothly,” he states while starting to kiss her neck, trying to distract her from his words. (Y/N) sighs, leaning into him, trying not to think about her ex-friend.

“Mmm, Tommy,” she moans. He smiles at her. He moves her into his lap, straddling his slack-covered waist.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says, moving his assault to her lips. Her fingers run through his hair, feeling his growing length underneath her clothed core.

“I’ve missed you too,” she says between kisses. She starts to rock against him, causing him to groan into her mouth.

“Let's move this to the bedroom,” he states, finally halting his assault on her, now raw, neck and lips. (Y/N) reluctantly got up from his lap, seeing the strain that she had caused. She smiles down at her work, before trying to reach for it. Tommy quickly grabs her wrist, tisking her actions.

“You can wait till we get to the bedroom,” he teased. (Y/N) pouted a little, her neediness has started to surface. Tommy’s eye’s darkened at her reaction. His other hand reached up and cupped her jaw, squishing her ever so slightly.

“I feel like you need a reminder angel. I’m the first and only man to kiss you, beg for you, and kneel to you,” he states, squishing her cheeks, making her lips pucker out. The hair on her body started to stick up.

“You belong to me. You are my property. Do you understand,” he says while whispering the last of his words into her ear. Chills ran down her spine at his words, knowing that they were all true.

“Yes,” she says, almost moaning out the syllables. Tommy gives a sly smile before he picks her up and starts to make their way toward the bedroom. When they arrive, he throws her on the bed and crawls on top. Kissing her lips, they moved down to the top of her blouse.

“This has to go,” he mumbles before ripping it off. Buttons flying across the room.

“Tommy,” she shrieks.

“I’ll replace it, or ask Mary to stitch them back on,” he says while moving down to her breasts. He sits back and pulls her skirt off, leaving her bare underneath him. Tommy marvelled over his wife’s body.

(Y/N) starts to pull at his pants, wanting what he was hiding. He smiles down at her, loving the neediness that she has for him.

“Do you want something?” he teases, causing her to whine to fall from her swollen lips.

“You have too many clothes on,” she whimpers. He looks down at himself and then back to her.

“That you are right my dear,” he says while unbuttoning his dress shirt, pulling his suspenders off his shoulders, and taking off his pants, leaving him in only his cotton underwear. (Y/N) kneeling on the bed, she crawls over to where he is standing and starts to kiss down his abdomen, right to the top of his boxers. Soft moans fall from his lips, head tilted back as she lowers the last remaining barrier between them.

She grabs the shaft and gives it a few slow pumps, driving Tommy crazy. (Y/N) places a few kitten licks on the head before he grabs the back of her head and pulls her back. He pushes her back onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. He gently places a sweet kiss on her soft lips, before bringing his attention to her core. His tongue plastered across her lips, hips jolting at the attention. A heavy moan falls from her lips, her hands running through his hair.

Tommy’s hands move from her thighs to her wrists, pulling them away from his head. He gives one more lick to her pussy before moving from his spot, meeting her lust darken eyes. (Y/N) whines at the loss of attention, causing him to grin. He hasn’t done a lot of grinning since before the war.

“Someone is needy tonight,” he jokes.

“You hadn’t touched me in months, Tommy,” she reveals. This stops him in his tracks. Looking back, she was right. With the growing business, constant travelling to London and back, and only getting a quick release from (Y/N) when he was home, he had failed to realize the neglect he had given to her. His mission quickly changes at that moment.

“I am so sorry my love. I have failed one of my duties as a husband,” he says while gently kissing up her chest, giving some attention to her soft breasts. His journey continues to her shoulders, towards her neck, making sure to leave his mark again. He plants a soft, supple kiss on her lips.

The kiss was different from the ones that they had shared in the lounge. In the lounge, they were rough, needy, desperate kisses. These were gentle, loving, vulnerable kisses. (Y/N) hands glide up his arms, going over his tense shoulders, and into his short hair. He grinds himself against her, still wanting to tease her a little. He sits up a little, grabbing his dick and moving it towards her entrance. He lines up before looking back up at her.

“You ready?” not trusting her work she quickly nods. Tommy’s hand moves back up towards her jaw.

“Use your words,” he states.

“Yes, Tommy,” she replies. He smiles at her, placing a kiss on her lips before moving back down.

He pushes in, a moan leaving both of their lips. He stills for a moment before gently starting to thrust. He kisses her sternum, giving attention to her breasts. (Y/N) grips his shoulders, her blunt nails digging into his flesh. (Y/N) walls flutter around him, Tommy’s thrust quicken.

“I’m gonna cum,” she shrieks. Without a second thought, she came undone. Tommy thrusts a couple more times before cumming inside of her. The sound of their heavy breaths mixed as they came down from their highs.

They lay in silence for a moment, (Y/N) tracing the tattoo on his chest. Tommy reaches over and grabs a cigarette, lighting it. The familiar scent of smoke filled the room. He looks down at her and places a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I love you,” he says. She smiles and kisses his jaw.

“I love you too.”

[tickle-mi-chan]

100% true story of my first tickle (Original Content)

So this is the story of my first introduction to tickling from a ler, my Sir, a man here on tumblr 😊

I'm very shy about posting this.

Hope you enjoy.

What's Behind Door 1506?

We hit it off intellectually at first. I met him on the whisper app about something unrelated and we started chatting, innocently to start, about real life issues and thoughts.

After a while we discover shared ideas, kinks and complementary traits. He's a Dom and I'm a sub. He's into restraints and tickles, and I'm into being restrained... The tickling, I didn't know anything about. But I know he's only in town for a few days.

I never knew tickling was a kink but it makes total sense when I think about it. So I'm intrigued and I decide I have to give it a try. He's deprived of it so my sub side wants to give it to him and just hope I don't hate it. In this new lingo I've since learned, he's a switch but can ler and is naturally dominant and leading.

We make plans to meet in his hotel. We discuss logistics - can I get to your room without a key? Is the hotel entrance guarded? We decide to go fully anonymous... No names, no faces... so once I get to there, he voice messages me and talks me through the casino, to which floor, etc.

We hang up and I take the elevator to his floor. I walk to his room, which is darkened and the door left cracked open. I paused in front of the door before going in. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and walked in. He immediately came up behind me, placed a pillowcase over my face and pushed me deeper into the room.

I dropped my bag to my side as he held me by my wrists behind my back. I'm 5'5" and he's much larger than me, over a foot taller. He's very strong and, using more authority and control than violent force, he leads me next to the bed. I'm wearing jean shorts, a blue shirt and white checkered shirt and white sneakers.

We're standing, him behind me, and I'm already breathing hard with anticipation. He swiftly and in one motion pulls my shorts off and nudges me forward so I'm kneeling on an ottoman. He pushes and guides me down as I go face-first onto the bed.

My ass in the air, he bound my wrists behind my back with rope. I've wanted to be bound with ropes since I was a teenager and I'm elated to struggle against them. He pulls my shoes and socks off and tickles my feet at first, and I'm kicking and trying to get away from the intensity of the sensations from his fingertips. I'm so sensitive that event he gentlest grazes send shivers through me. He uses pressure to torture the soles... it's a painful pleasure and I've never had anyone do this before. He uses the hair brush I though I was so smart to bring, just in case.

He eventually lets go of my feet and I'm there, blindfolded and don't know what's he's doing next. Then I feel his strong hands on my sides, my first tickle and I'm dying. I'm bucking and giggling and moaning and struggling against my restraints.

I'm in fucking ecstasy.

And as quickly as he grabs me, his hands are gone... I'm sweating, I'm catching my breath, I'm so anxious about where his hands will go next. He's standing behind me and reaches out to rub my ass and pussy. I'm so turned on by his touch, this big man I don't know, this strong stranger whose control I'm under. I'm so wet, I'm soaking through my panties.

After a teasing rub, he grabs my panties and cuts them open, completely exposing me, and then his hands and fingers start exploring and rubbing my clit. I'm very vocal but he told me not to be, not with the thin hotel walls, so I'm struggling to stay quiet. My face is in the mattress and I'm moaning and whimpering as little as I can tolerate.

He rubs along my slippery wet lips and circles my clit. It feels so good and my body tenses up with his touch. His fingers enter me and he fucks me with his hands, my tight pussy pulsing as the pleasure overwhelms me.

But he's doing what he wants, that becomes clear. He's just playing with my body to watch me, to control me, to own my pleasure. And when he wants to, he stops playing with my pussy. I'm quiet and subdued for a moment, like a kitten, and then I feel his fingers start to walk along my body.

From my thighs, grazing my ass, and then finger-stepping up my hips... I gasp and my pupils dilate in anticipation as he tickles my sides again, this time more forcefully and sustained.

I'm completely losing my mind over the sensations but I love love love the feeling of being so helpless, of his power and strength and how little it takes him to control me.

I can't see him, I can't hear him, I can't touch him. But I can sense that he's pleased with me. I can sense his smirk.

I try to stay as quiet as I can, as he wishes, but I can't help myself as giggles and moans and gasps escape me.

I'm giggling like giggle fits, but also with whimpers.... I've never experienced this, the alternating sense of torture and pleasure and fun and joyful glee. I'm completely entranced and lost in the moment, but my entire body is electrified, every nerve-ending and goose-bump anxious about where his touch will be next.

In between tickles, he plays with me again.

This time, he has toys.

This is where I have to break narrative to explain that I'm telling you the things as recall them, as I can remember.

I was so lost in the feeling, in the pleasure, in the scene. I don't remember the exact order things happened. It's all flashbacks and echoes of pleasure and sensations.

By the time he's got toys out, I'm just a panting, gasping, whimpering, hot and sweaty lump of flesh. You know those sex drunk anime girls with the crossed eyes and tongue sticking out? I imagine I looked like that.

He uses the magic wand on my clit. It's already powerful and he turns it up to a high setting, my back arches and I'm shuddering as the intense vibrations course through me, my feet pointed to the ceiling, my toes curling.

He lubes me but I'm so wet I don't actually need it. He fucks my pussy with a dildo, sometimes putting the wand back on my clit, sometimes taking it away. At his whims, he's changing the toys, sometimes fucking my pussy, sometimes rubbing my clit, and then he's rubbing my ass with his finger. It tickles and I'm giggling and shaking. Then he fingers my ass with one hand and rubs my clit and pussy with the other. I'm basically being held from the inside. This, using my holes and getting my whimpers and giggles and moans and cries, this goes on and on and I am in love with every second of it.

And then, he stops. Time's up. He has to go. He takes and toys and his hands away and play is ending...

And I'm a sub, I'm a good girl, I don't make demands or requests...

...but I had to ask.

"Can I please ask a favor?"

"What is it?" he asked, curiously.

"Can I have one more tickle, Sir?"

He chuckled. I could hear this happiness and he gave it to me, giving me one more high to ride.

Afterwards, he led my still-blindfolded, jello-y self into the bathroom with my clothes and stuff. I got dressed, used the hairbrush I was so smart to bring along. I took a couple of deep breaths and I walked out the door, without ever seeing him or him seeing me.

POSTSCRIPT: You might've caught that I went from pillowcase over the face to blindfolded. What happened in reality was edited out for storytelling purposes but deserves to be addressed. While we did take risks in our meeting, when we discussed "logistics", it of course included discussions about limits and safe words and all that good stuff. One of the things we'd agreed to trying stuffing clean socks in my mouth, covering my face with a pillowcase and then loosely securing the pillowcase around my face and neck. I liked this idea better than the blindfold at first, but very soon after I was bound, I found that the heat of my quickened breath in the pillowcase was stifling and I was fast-approaching a sense of panic. I said wait wait wait and threw out a "yellow" signifying that I needed something. This gentle giant immediately helped me, getting me air before my panic started to rise. He quickly got me free but somehow without exposing my face, so I was blindfolded for the rest of the session. He was careful to make sure I was okay, that I was calmed, that I felt safe and secure and wanted to keep going. I couldn't wait.

[nerdyfangirl67]

The Peace Out Here - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of weapons, nonexplicit mentions of rape, pregnancy, doubts about pregnancy

Word count: 1506

Request by: anonymous

“Hey you! I really liked your Tony x Reader one were he comforts her bc she found out she's pregnant from rape? I was wondering how Gibbs would react to the same?”

A/N: Hey you! I’m finally getting to your request, sorry it has taken so long! I want to remind everyone that this story has triggers, so please read the warnings before continuing. 

You fumble with the lock for a minute before the door swings open, revealing a rustic, sparsely furnished interior. You step inside, dropping your bag off by the doorway and pushing the door closed behind you. For the first time in what feels like weeks, you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

The chill of the unwarmed room forces you to keep your jacket on as you search around the semi-dark room for the pack of matches you knew Jethro kept around. After a few minutes of stumbling around, you find the matches and proceed to light the few candles scattered around. You knew you’d have to go charge to the generator to get the electricity on, but you couldn’t find the energy to go back outside in the cold fall rain and do so. 

You whisper out a soft breath of thanks upon seeing the small stack of firewood next to the fireplace. Several failed attempts later and you finally manage to get a small fire going, the heat of which steadily starts warming the cabin. After pulling off your shoes, you climb into the sagging bed, wrapping the thick quilt around yourself and letting the exhaustion pulling at you take over. 

The night passes uneventfully as the nightmares remain at bay for the first time in weeks. You wonder briefly if it had to do with the lingering scent of Jethro on the sheets or the quiet security of the cabin. Whatever the reason, you wake up feeling truly refreshed, the coolness of the air helping to wake you up. You take a moment to make the bed before heading to the bathroom to change out of your clothes from the previous day. You bend down, putting on your sneakers, and just as you are lacing them up a knock on the door stops you. 

The sound sends your heart racing through your chest, your hand instinctively going for your hip, where you typically get your holstered weapon. Your fingers grasp at nothing and you realize with a start, that you’d left your sidearm locked up in the safe back home. You cautiously move to the door, standing mostly behind it as you crack it open, revealing a casually dressed Jethro. You step back, fully opening the door as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment. You loosen your grip on the door, stepping to the side and moving back into the cabin, taking a seat on the bed.

Jethro slowly follows you in, pushing the door closed behind him. He pulls off his jacket, haphazardly laying it on a wooden chair before regarding you with knowing eyes.

“How did...uh, how’d you find me, Jethro?” You ask softly, your fingers tracing the worn squares of the handmade patchwork quilt covering the bed as you try not to dwell on the fact that you’d just called your boss by his first name.

Your question goes unanswered and after a few long moments, you lift your eyes to his. His piercing blue eyes are on you, his gaze unwavering as he speaks. “You told Abby you were going to clear your head, someplace off the grid where you could find peace.” He pauses, taking a step closer to you. His voice is rough with an unreadable emotion when he continues. “You told me once that you felt a true sense of peace out here, away from everything.” 

His words hang in the air, suspended on the unasked question of why you’d come up here alone. He doesn’t force you to speak and a part of you feels that he probably already knows the answer to that silent question. The silence stretches out between the two of you as you struggle to find the words to tell Jethro the truth.

“We need firewood.” He says simply, shrugging his worn Carharrt back on before tugging open the heavy wooden door and stepping out into the chill of the fall night. You suck in a deep breath, trying to slow the rapid pace of your heart. You knew you’d have to tell him the truth, no matter how much the thought alone left you feeling queasy. 

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was the single most important in your life; he had been since the day you’d walked into that dated orange bullpen. The first time he’d looked at you, it felt as if you were been seen for the first time, as if he knew everything you’d ever be. He quickly became the one you trusted the most on the team, aside from maybe Abby. As completely cliche as it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling in love with him. And although the two of you completely shied away from the topic of feelings, you had this strange notion that maybe he felt the same for you. But how do you tell the man you loved something that would altogether change your life, and possibly even his?

Jethro pushes the door open with his shoulder, a load of split logs in his arms. A cold blast of air hits you and makes you shiver, only stopping when he shoved the door closed again. He moved effortlessly to the fireplace.

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt out, your words hitting Jethro like a bullet as he freezes in place. He is still for a long moment before he slowly sets down the logs, turning around to face you. His blue eyes are ice cold, devoid of any emotion as he flatly says, “Is it his?” 

You can’t bring yourself to hold his gaze, your eyes dropping to your feet as you give a small nod of your head, a lump of emotions rising in your chest that you try to fight. An overwhelming tide of shame washes over you, coupling with a growing feeling of anxiety that leaves you breathless. The moment his rough hand brushes yours that tenuous wall you’d built comes tumbling down, a rush of tears springing to the surface. His strong arms are wrapped around you before you can even take a step closer to him. You bury your face in his neck, trying to stop the tears that are now rushing down your face. You find comfort in his arms, feeling for the first time in a long time like things were maybe going to be okay. You pull back just enough to look him square in the eyes for the first time since you’d spoken. 

He brings a large, rough hand up to gently cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing a soft line up your cheekbone. “Just tell me what you need Y/N.” His voice is thick with emotion, telling you far more than his words were. 

You can feel the tears rising within you at his words, but you force down the surge of emotions, not ready to cry again only moments after you’d just stopped. “Jethro...I-I don’t know what to do.” You roughly wipe a hand over your eyes, brushing away the remnants of tears. “I’ve never felt so completely helpless in my life. It feels like every decision is being made for me, faster than I can even comprehend.” You lean into his hand, closing your eyes as you continue in a broken whisper. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go, Jethro. I wanted to do this right. I wanted this… with you.” You trail off, having said what had been on your mind for the last day and a half.

“Just because it didn’t happen the way it should’ve doesn’t mean it can’t happen Y/N. I’m here now and I’ll be here through the whole thing. I can promise you that Y/N.” His hand slides from your cheek, down your face to under your chin, gently lifting it until your eyes meet his again. He gives you the softest smile, one you can’t ever recall seeing on him before. “I can be whatever you and the baby need Y/N.” 

That wildly desperate feeling that had been seizing control of you starts to slowly fade away at his words and you find yourself leaning in, the distance between the two of you disappearing as you softly press your lips to his. His hands come up to tenderly wrap around each side of your face as he briefly deepens the kiss before leaning back and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I just need you, Jethro.” You whisper in a moment of complete honesty, that feeling of safety that you only ever felt around him washing over you. 

“I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.” He responds, his voice thick and heavy with emotion.

“I’ll always want you.” You breathe out. He doesn’t say anything in response, instead, he leans down, giving you another kiss before he wraps his arms around you. And as uncertain as your future was, you could trust in the fact that the one constant in the days, months, even years, to come would be Jethro.

Tagging: @madamsnape921 @fanf1ctionwrit1n @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @leroyjethrogibbsgirl @captainxholmes @alesaab​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp  @fandom-princess-forevermore

[mrsgiovanna]

The confession (Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A cute request from a nonnie mouse, I hope this is what you were looking for my sweet 🥰💭💜🐞

No warnings, just fluff

Word count: 1506

“Buongiorno, Gio, I have the documents you requested yesterday,” you greeted the young mafia Don with a sunny smile as you handed the envelope to him.

“Buongiorno (y/n), thank you so much for getting these to me as quickly as you did, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for just springing this on you as well,” Giorno apologized, returning your smile with one of his own.

Ever since Giorno had taken over Passione, you had been his support structure, whether it was help with the copious amounts of documentation he had to go through or intricate missions that he trusted nobody other than you with, you were always ready to serve your Don. Similarly, you could always rely on Giorno for anything. Everything you both did was aimed at protecting each other, and there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for each other. Mista Fugo and Trish always commented that you and Giorno always behaved like a couple, earning dismissive laughs from you both. Sure, you both cared deeply for each other, but a couple? No, you were certain he didn’t think of you in that way.

Just as you turned to leave, Giorno had called you back, asking you to stay for the meeting he was going to have with the Capos and Mista. No sooner had you taken your seat, had Mista brought everyone in. You sat quietly, offering your input when requested, keeping your game face on for the duration of the time. There was one Capo however, that took advantage of every opportunity he had to address you, either directly with his questions or indirectly with his flirtatious glances.

You had only encountered Lucian a few times prior to this, each time proving to more difficult than the last, however, he has never openly behaved this way in front of Giorno before. You wished they would conclude their agenda so you could escape his piercing gaze.

“Well, if that’s everything, this meeting is adjourned,” said Giorno, almost as if he was able to read your mind, bringing the meeting to a close.

“If that’s all, (y/n), would you mind walking with me, there’s something I’d like to speak to you about, I won’t take too much of your time,” said Lucian to you.

You wordlessly looked towards Giorno, and sought his permission to leave, which he gave you with a curt nod, as his intense eyes followed you until you disappeared out the door.

“You’re scowling Giorno,” Mista was somewhat amused but he actually felt bad for his friend. Whether it was confusion or just awkwardness regarding these matters, you and the emerald-eyed man have been dancing around this issue for the longest time. It was becoming tedious to watch. Perhaps the threat of another person potentially taking you away would force Giorno to give a definition to his feelings.

Mista watched him intently, deciding to speak frankly, “You know you’re in love with her… and you know she loves you too. I don’t know what it is that’s tripping you both up, but I know you can’t keep doing this forever. She’s young and beautiful and will attract the attention of others who will be more brazen in their approach. If not Lucian, then someone else will take her from you.” The gravity of Mista’s words hit Giorno all at once. Before he could say anything more, Mista had returned his attention to what he was reading, and you had returned to the room with a soft smile on your face.

“What was that about?”

“Oh, he just needed my input on one of new territories he’s taking over, we’re meeting for dinner later,” you explained nonchalantly, unable to pick up on Giorno’s discomfort.

“Dinner? Like a date? Pried the young Don, trying to think about how best to thwart these plans.

“No… yes… I guess it is a date. He seemed excited enough…”

“I see…”

“You two are beyond frustrating, I’ll see you later,” with that Mista left in an exasperated huff.

You looked at Giorno, wondering what annoyed the gunslinger to that extent, but he just shrugged it off.

The rest of the day was spent quietly working, and the hours passed by faster than you would have liked them to.

“I think we’ve made good progress today, is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?” you ask as you start gathering your things to make your exit.

“Thanks, I think we’ve covered everything… can I send one of the drivers with you? Oh, I’ll send a guard too, I’m sure none of them would mind, they’re all very fond of you and…”

“Giorno, it’s fine, it’s not such a big deal, just dinner, and I can take care of myself you know. Or have you forgotten the times I’ve beaten you while we were sparring?”

“Beat me? I let you win… I… I miss those times…” The sad smile on his face mirrored your own feelings, this nostalgia was bitter sweet.

“Me too… we should make time to do those things again… well I should go now, see you tomorrow Gio,”. Giorno sadly watched as you exited his study for the second time that day, feelings of guilt and jealously overtook his senses in waves. He wanted you to be happy, but he could no longer ignore the glaringly obvious fact that he wanted- no, needed- to be the one to make you happy.

You decided to stop at Mista’s house before going home. You wanted to make sure he was okay after the way he left earlier.

“Hey Mista,”

“(y/n), what are you doing here? Did something happen?” said Mista in a concerned voice as he stepped aside to let you in.

“No, no, I came to see how you were doing… You were acting a bit weird this morning, is everything okay?” you ask as you walked in. You always thought of Mista as an older brother, he messed with you incessantly, but you could always talk to him about the things that mattered.

“Ah, haha, I’m fine, you didn’t have to come all this way, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“You creep, I came all this way to check on you and you sound like you want to get rid of me,” you said, playfully punching him on the arm.

“Whatever, gallinella, so is everything okay with you?”

As you and Mista spent some time chatting in general, you felt a sense of calm slowly permeate your mind. With this clarity, you also realized you forgot to tell Giorno about a very important meeting he needed to be at early the next day. Just as you fished out your cellphone to call him and let him know, Mista’s phone rang.

“Oh its Giorno,”

“Perfect, Mista can you place the call on speaker please, I need to talk to him really quickly,”

With a nod, he answers the call, “Hi Giorno, listen (y/n) is…”

“You were right Mista, you were right about everything. I’m completely in love with (y/n) and I don’t know what to do. Should I just pretend? Should I tell her?”

“You just did… I was going to tell you that I put you on speaker because she was here and wanted to talk to you, but you just kept talking…”

“Goddammit Mista!”

“Hey don’t blame me, anyway , I think you should call her…” suggested Mista as he gave you some space to process the information you had just become privy to.

Your eyes grew larger than saucers and your breath hitched in your throat, you couldn’t believe Giorno felt that way. No sooner had he hung up on Mista, did you see his name popping up on your caller ID.

“(y/n), I suppose you heard all of that… even though I didn’t want you to find out like this, I meant every word. I know you have other plans tonight, but can we please talk about this tomorrow?” explained Giorno.

“I did… I heard everything. I’ll cancel my plans tonight, I can’t go with him in good conscience after all of that, it’s not fair to anyone,”

“I won’t tell you what to do, and I’ll be respectful of whatever you decide, I just feel we need to talk…”

“Thank you Gio, and yes I agree, we’ll talk when I see you tomorrow…” you respond, the smile on your face was almost audible in the happy lilt your voice carried.

“Alright then tesoro, well, have a good evening, be safe on your way home.”

After saying goodbye to Mista and driving yourself home, you had the awkward task of calling Lucian, who was more understanding than you gave him credit for. For the rest of your night, your thoughts kept returning to Giorno, and it was then that you realized exactly how deep your feelings for him ran. With those sweet feelings effervescing in your chest, you went to sleep with a smile on your face, dreaming about what the future might hold for you both.

[meadows-of-light]

Prompts 1500-1599

1500) I grew up without a mother, without anybody who loved me & I can't just sit back & watch (child’s name) be taken from her mother. If (name) doesn't show up, I have to make things right. They need four vampires...each related by blood to (child’s name). I can be the fourth if I turn.

1501) When you said goodbye, I was too quick to let you go. I never really thought it'd actually be the last time I saw you. I was just acting strong.

1502) When you said goodbye, I told you I'd find you. Track you down. Well looks like you did it, after all. Went somewhere I can't follow.

1503) I'm so sorry for the things I said (name). I didn't mean them. I was so angry. I picked up the amulet the moment you walked away. It wasn't worthless. Nothing from you ever was.

1504) You should be proud of who you are.

1505) Now I know why you always told me to stay strong, you knew that one day I would need the strength to bear your loss.

1506) You were there for me when no one else was, you believed in me when no one else did, you stayed when everyone else walked away.

1507) I never thought we would end up like this.

1508) I've got a war in my heart.

1509) He died. I don't wanna feel because I'm not okay, I miss him so much it hurts, will this pain ever go away? Will it be like this forever? I tried to distract myself, but nothing makes me feel better.

1510) And that makes it okay?

1511) What would you do if I didn't come back?

1512) Do you know what it's like?

1513) How do you think this ends?

1514) Do you know what a gunshot wound feels like?

1515) Is this how you thought your life would be?

1516) I’m afraid you’ll end up seeing me the way I see myself.

1517) I loved them more than anything in this world, & they’re dead because of me.

1518) I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.

1519) You were the only person who stayed by my side when everyone else left.

1520) There’s still no one that can replace you.

1521) Yea, but it was supposed to me & you.

1522) Your compassion is a gift, carry it with you forever.

1523) If (name) was the soul of our family then (name) was the heart.

1524) All of us live with demons within ourselves, somedays it controls us & somedays you control it.

1525) She's the flowers, but she's also the rain. She's the beauty of the day, but also the nights full of pain.

1526) There ain't no rest for the wicked unless we close our eyes for good.

1527) It took me a hundred years to find them & only a year to lose them.

1528) But this is the only thing that's made the last three years bearable.

1529) I miss moments like this more than anything.

1530) I am the one not running, not staying, but facing. Because if I am the last one, then I am humanity & if this is humanity's last war, then I am the battlefield.

1531) The worst thing that could possibly happen, actually did.

1532) Oh honey, you can't break a broken heart.

1533) Isn’t it wonderful how you’re always finding new songs, new books, new shows, new hobbies, new places & new people to fall in love with? There will always be things to love, as long as you stick around to find them.

1534) You’re so young & you have so much time. Life is longer than you think, & there will be time for you to do everything. If you lost your youth to mental illness or abuse, your life isn’t over. You can do everything you missed out on, & more. If you’re losing your youth right now, there will be time for you to do the things you want to do. It’s gonna be okay, you still have time.

1535) You’re allowed to hate your illness. You’re allowed to hate your body for making you sick. You’re allowed to be angry, to be negative, to be depressed. You don’t have to be ‘inspiration porn’ or please others for the sake of being palatable. Being sick all the time fucking sucks, that’s it.

1536) Thank you for being there when no one cares for me & for lifting me up when I'm about to give up.

1537) That's my girl, tough as cotton balls.

1538) We train our daughters to be leaders.

1539) Thank you for existing, but mostly thank you for taking the misery & pain out of my life.

1540) Do you understand that we'll never be the same again?

1541) Find the place inside where there is joy & the joy will burn out the pain.

1542) I knew it, she's tough like her mom.

1543) Can you remember who you were before the world told you who you should be?

1544) She deserves someone who makes her realize she isn’t that hard to love.

1545) She wants someone who makes her believe in things again, but she’ll never ask that of anyone. So, she’ll stay silent & guarded & fearful. She’ll hide a heart that’s worthy of the best type of love hoping maybe things will change.

1546) You’re stronger than you know. You’ve gotten through everything life has thrown at you so far, & you can make it through this too, I promise.

1547) There is so much more to life than your mental illness. This pain, this emptiness, this sadness is such a small part of what life holds for you. One day you will be filled with so much unbridled joy that you won’t even remember what it feels like to be this sad. There is so much in store for you, I promise. There is more to life than what you’re experiencing right now.

1548) It doesn’t make you unlovable or a horrible person if you don’t have many friends. It can be difficult to meet new people if you’re shy or quiet or have anxiety. It can be difficult to stay in touch with people if you can’t find the time or energy to remain in contact. It can be difficult to make new friends if you struggle to find people you click with or who are interested in the same things as you. None of those things mean you’re unlovable.

1549) If you ever question your worth, I want you to know that you make the night sky shine a little brighter. You make the seasons a little more colorful. You make the bad times a little less painful. You add beauty to everything. Because of you, the world is glowing, my love. Your existence matters so much. You add importance & value to this life. Please never forget that. You are worthy.

1550) There is always that one person in your life that does not give you enough credit for surviving. For making it this far. For all of your talents. For how amazing you are & ninety-nine per cent of the time that person is you, my love. You do not give yourself enough credit. For everything. You are so worthy. You are so talented. You are so good at something. Do not overlook all of your special features, just because you are used to them. You are freaking incredible- everything about you is. You are so damn special & it is time that you finally appreciate & see how amazing you are. Give yourself credit. For absolutely everything you are capable of. You deserve it so much.

1551) Feeling sensitive & emotional is okay. Feeling like you are about to tear up, feeling weak, feeling as if you have reached your limit - all of this is okay. You are not overreacting. You are not being dramatic. You are not unnormal. Let your emotions out. Let the tears roll. Let the pain come. You need to feel it in order to heal it, my love. I just want you to know that it is perfectly fine to feel like breaking at any point of the day (or of your life) & your feelings are never invalid. Never ever.

1552) Wounds take time to heal. When they are fresh, they hurt. The deeper the wound, the stronger the pain. When they start healing, they sting. You have to take great care of them, address them, rest, be patient. While healing, it can happen that the wound opens up & causes pain all over again. But eventually it will heal. A scar will form, visible at the beginning but fading with every day that passes. I am here to remind you that this process does not only apply to physical wounds but to mental / emotional wounds as well. Do not be hard on yourself while recovering, my love. Healing wounds, especially deep ones, take so much time & effort. They will open up again, they will be painful & that is good because it is proof that you are healing.

1553) I know right now it feels like nothing will ever get better & that your mind might only wander to everything that could go wrong or situations that will stress you out. But darling, there are so many good things in the world - good things that will happen to you. Think about all the beaches you're going to see, all the concerts you're going to go to, all the people you haven't met yet, all the places & cities you're going to visit, all the recipes you're going to try out, all the souls you're going to fall in love with & all the endless opportunities you'll be offered. Your mind may portray the future as dark & scary but that doesn't mean that it is. You're going to bloom & you're going to be happy. Your future shines so bright, my love. Please don't listen to the voices in your head; instead of imagining everything that could fail, imagine everything that can (& will) go right.

1554) Someone who makes you happy, gives you love, makes you smile & helps you breathe on the dark days does not complete you. You are whole on your own. You are a completed masterpiece, my love. They rather complement you. They are strong when you are weak, they are positive when you feel negative, they help when you are in need & they love when you do not even love yourself & you do the same for them. It is not that they give you light, it is that with them your own light shines even brighter. Always remember that.

1555) This one is for you: For the person who never lets anyone see their demons or the battle they're fighting inside their head; for the person who gives everything to help those in need but doesn't seem to get the same care back; for the person who's hurting inside but hiding it with a smile on the outside even though what fills their nights are dark thoughts & cries; this one is for you, my love. I want you to know that I see you. I see right through the mask you're putting on everyday & I'm here to tell you that you can put it down. Drop it. Finally let those feelings out. It's okay. I'm here. I won't judge. I will support you as you heal in your own way.

1556) Memories always bring back the pain.

1557) Everyday, everyday I wanted to kill myself so the pain can go away.

1558) I give up, it will never get better.

1559) There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how.

1560) I know you've been hurt by someone else; I can tell by the way you carry yourself.

1561) As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.

1562) Since my dog likes you, then I guess I like you too.

1563) Don't break someone's heart, they only have one. Yeah, break their bones. They have 206 of those.

1564) When life gives you lemons, you-. Squeeze them into your enemy's eyes as you watch them suffer in agony, while you squeeze more lemons so they can't see. No!

1565) I'm no longer a human being. I identify as a chicken nugget.

1566) Everyone, hold your horses! Hold them close, cherish them—. What? I don’t know, I haven’t slept in three days.

1567) Can we please stop saying the word 'sugar daddy'? Glucose guardian

1568) I honestly don't remember the last time I was happy.

1569) How am I supposed to go on?

1570) I got these because I know they’re your favorite.

1571) Forget the past, remember the lesson.

1572) You can lock yourself away from everyone else but please don’t push me away.

1573) I made her lose her smile.

1574) If you’re going to dress like that, I’m not going to let you out of my sight.

1575) My greatest regret was letting my walls down & trusting you with my heart. I wish I never met you.

1576) The voices haven't gone away & I think they're getting worse. I think I'm getting worse.

1577) I know you don't let yourself get close to anyone, but I wish you'd let yourself get close to me.

1578) You can push everyone away, but I promise you I'm not going anywhere. Nothing you can do will ever push me away.

1579) I know they're dead, I know that, but I keep seeing them everywhere & every time I get close to them, they're gone. I just feel like I'm losing my mind.

1580) I know you've been gone for months & you'll probably never get this, but I miss you. I miss you so much & I wish you were here because it's getting so much harder to wake up & keep doing all this.

1581) They're gone, they're just gone now & I have to pretend to be okay because everyone else is hurting & so I have to be there for them & I don't have time to break down because everyone else needs me, but I just need someone right now. I can't do this anymore; I can't keep pretending I'm fine because I'm not. I'm really not.

1582) I don't feel like I'm in control anymore, it feels like I'm in a car & it's mine but someone else is in the front seat & in the passenger seat & I'm in the back far away from the wheel.

1583) A person who has a beautiful soul, kindness through their veins, songs live in their heart, & love pours out in their speech. They are lively, bright, & radiate love & joy. They are captured. Taken away from everyone & everything they love. Taken away from what makes them who they are. How do you heal someone from that?

1584) You will always regret losing the chance to love someone.

1585) Please, just hang on. Please. For me.

1586) I'm sorry I get mad. I'm sorry I get sad. I'm sorry I'm not always smiling. I'm sorry I overthink everything. I'm sorry I can't sleep at night. I'm sorry for saying the things I say. I'm sorry I'm so complicated. I'm sorry I'm a mess. I'm sorry for being clingy. I'm sorry that when l get sad, I get quiet. I'm just so sorry for being me.

1587) To be reborn, you have to die first.

1588) Beware the lioness, for she is a natural hunter.

1589) She was my first love & we were madly in love; however, I was too young for serious relationships & chose career over love. Now I'm 30, recently I met her in a shopping center, she's now happily married & has a son. We sat in a cafe for four hours talking about everything, we both confessed we had the best time of our lives together. Well, I came home & simply burst into tears; how stupid I was to exchange the love of my life for all this. Don't let "your" people go.

1590) If you're dating someone with depression. They're going to be tired. Constantly. Don't let them stay in bed all day. They're not going to want to eat. Make them food anyway. They're going to want to cancel plans just to go home & watch Netflix. Take them out dancing anyway. They will look like they're not in the mood to be silly. Try to make them laugh anyway. They're going to want to cry over spilled coffee. Don't make it seem like it's not a big deal or that they're being dramatic. They're going to be happy & sad at the same time, & I know that sounds crazy but it's the truth. They're going to need constant reassurance that they're beautiful. Tell them. They're going to constantly need reassurance that you're not going to leave them. They aren't doubting you or questioning your love, depression comes with anxiety. It comes with no appetite, sleeping 10 hours & waking up tired. It comes with the illusion of standing in a room with hundreds of people & being seen by none of them. It doesn't make sense. It's impossible to understand so imagine how they feel. Fighting a constant internal battle. So be that support system. Reassure & love hard. Never give up on them.

1591) Just be with me, we'll figure out the details later.

1592) Do you know how you made me feel when you ignored me?

1593) There is peaceful, there is wild. I am both at the same time.

1594) Quiet people have the loudest minds.

1595) Eyes tell the best stories.

1596) I’m going to keep going until I succeed or die. Don’t think I don’t know how this might end. I’ve known it for years.

1597) You know how when you're in a car & it's pouring down rain, you go under a bridge & everything stops? Everything goes silent & it's almost peaceful, then you finally get from under the bridge, & everything hits you a little harder than before? You were my bridge.

1598) Sometimes it’s going to hurt. It will. You're going to sit on your floor screaming at the ceiling. Pulling at your hair & trying to pull the skin off your bones. You're going to fall asleep with tears burning at your eyes & praying that you won't wake up, but you will. You will always wake up. Be glad. It's going to stop hurting.

1599) Life after depression is a wonderous thing. You watch birthdays pass. Ages you thought you'd never see. You experience life events on a different plane reflecting on the past cause you didn't see a future. You slowly learn to love yourself, living with the scars that remind you of worse times. In the end all that matters the heartbeat in your chest, so you breathe in & out & continue to live.