#yes this is glass animals inspired

[jkasdfjlasdhflkaskdlask]

YeeHaw backstory time

ANIMAL CRUELTY TW!!! it's brief and not graphic but I'm including a warning anyway.

Moreau would always hum while he worked. Most times it was simple melodies, little songs he overheard while searching the realms for creatures to abduct. Occasionally, he would sing a few words. He hummed for a while, and every time the chorus came around, he sang the words that had inspired his whole project.

Five fingers, two black hooves~

Those were words he’d overheard from a group of four humans. Words that had stuck with him. Words that had somehow resonated with him. And most of all, a song that had inspired him. Its lyrics had put a question in his mind; could an animal become a human?

That song became the soundtrack for his mission. He sang it to himself as he teleported to a forested realm.

I’m a man, don’t spin me a lie

He hummed as he walked into a field, and a herd of deer hopped in front of him, curious about the fae that had appeared in their home. He smiled, this was perfect. With the clap of his hands, one was teleported back to his home in the fae wild.

Got toes and I can smile

A swarm of hungry bats flew all around, aiming at the various bugs that were in the evening sky. The bats gave him a new idea, a new inspiration. He had the same end product in his mind, a human. But this time, he would work with two animals.

 With lightning speed, he snatched a bat mid flight. He clutched the bat in his hand, it squealing and squeaking, desperate to get away. Moreau just smiled, entertained by the things attempts. He squeezed it in his hand, teleporting it to his home

I’m crooked but alright

Snapping his fingers, he teleported himself back to his house. The deer was chained down with magical shackles, and the bat was pinned down with sewing needles. With magic in his fingertips and a knife in his hands, he got to work.

In the span of a few hours, the new creature had a body that almost resembled a human, and the cries of pain sounded progressively more human-like. However, there was still something about them that sounded wild.

Moreau stepped back to admire his work. In front of him was a tall humanoid creature, with huge bat wings and bat ears, but the head and hooves of a deer. Though it was a fascinating thing, Moreau just frowned. It was missing something. 

He turned to look at his side table, looking at the spare pieces of the old animals. He saw the deers old antlers on the table. He quickly noticed they were shattered beyond repair. Annoyed, he pointed a finger at the thing, magically forming a new pair of antlers on it’s head.

These antlers, however, were made of gold. 

“Ah, there’s a good idea!” Moreau exclaimed. “Gold. It’s perfect. It suits you. I’ll call you…”

It looked up at Moreau, black eyes wide with terror.

“Aureus. I’ll call you Aureus.”

Aureus made a noise, seemingly trying to speak. Despite its attempts, it was unable to form any words.

“Oh, no no no. That’s not right. You should be able to speak.” Moreau flicked his fingers, sending little magic sparkles towards Aureus. “Now speak.”

“Five fingers…” They muttered, looking at their horribly misshapen hand. It was more of a disturbing lump of furry flesh than a hand at this point. Moreau followed their gaze.

“Oh my, that’s not right either. Hands don’t look like that.” He rushed towards Aureus, taking their strange almost hand-like thing into his hand. He squeezed, and fingers magically began to form, one moving to the side to become a thumb.

“Ah, there! That looks better. Glad you didn’t scream this time.”

Aureus didn’t know the words to tell him why. They didn’t know how to explain that when he’d flicked magic at them, something had changed in their mind. Something was different and they no longer knew how to scream. Not with their new human tongue. So instead of saying any of this, they just asked him: “Why are you glad?”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Because. You don’t sound human enough.”

“I’m a man,” they said, repeating the words Moreau had sung to them over and over. “Don’t spin me a lie.”

“No, you’re off. You’re strange,” he looked them up and down. “You aren’t quite right, and you’re not human.”

“I’m a man,” they said again.

“No. You’re not human. You’re just a disappointment.” And with that, he clapped his hands and cast Aureus out of the fae wild. He teleported them back to that forested realm where the animals that they once were came from.

They appeared in the sky, plummeting downwards. Their wings failed them and the fell rapidly, hitting the earth with a thud.

They stood up slowly, pain hitting them in waves. Looking down, they saw that they were bleeding from their arm. But something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. Their blood wasn’t red. Their blood came out as a glowing, gushing, gold. 

Dread filled them as a realization hit them. They were covered in fur, and they didn’t bleed red. But in their heart they knew, and in their mind they could feel it. 

Even if no one else could see it, even if no one else would believe it, they knew what they were.

Because Aureus was given the mind of a human.

Aureus.

[i-like-cats-and-stars49]

Thingy I drew in class on our school tablets while I definitly should have been doing something else

[meo-eiru]

DUDE I JUST PLAYED THROUGH THE GAME, WHY IS IT SO SADDDD😭😭😭

and why is he hot

Starling went through quite a few redesigns through the entire development process so let me talk about it a bit :3

It all started with this notes app drawing I made with my finger

Right from the start we knew his tail would be made out of tongues but figuring out how many and placed how was quite hard, I really had to girlmath my way thru

This was the first actual drawing I made of him. The story wasn't complete yet but I went ahead and designed something anyway. Here he was definitely "scarier" and his scar was also placed differently. He had gills on his neck but as you will see I changed their location to under his arms later on. We were actually considering not giving him a tongue of his own so I wanted to make his mouth terrifyingly big and empty.

Here I tried giving him bigger eyes like a fish. This was when his playful and childlike personality had started shaping as you can see from the expressions. I definitely liked this direction better but it also wasn't perfect just yet so I went ahead and did a few more changes

I slowed down on trying to figure out his design a bit after that and instead focused on how his sprite would look. He is a merman after all, he can't just stand straight like a lot of the other visual novel characters. This stage was PAINFUL.

These were the first ones I sketched, we ended up deciding we liked the 3rd one the best.

I carried that 3rd one over to another canvas and started playing around with how we could place his tail, we started entertaining the idea of having him sit on a big rock

This is when his pose really shaped up. The animated Little Mermaid movie was actually a big inspiration, I sat and rewatched the entire movie and studied how they animated her tail

And after that I finally finalized his design. We decided to change the end of his tail to be more eel like for aesthetic purposes (normal tail shape looked weird with tongues)

And for anyone wondering this is what Maelyn looked like at first. Since the story wasn't complete yet I thought it'd take place in a more modern setting and designed her with that in mind but we decided to have the story take place in 1800s so I changed the design based on that. I did a lot of research on glasses and corsets to make the design as accurate as I could.

Yes glasses! We didn't use the sprites in the main story but Maelyn does wear glasses and looks very pretty in them if you ask me. You will be seeing more of it in the bonus episodes!

[pommpuriinn]

Mine mysterious Boyfriend

ੈ✩ synopsis - y/n is a very successful influencer who is known for producing aesthetically pleasing vlogs about her travels, normal day to day life, going to restaurants to taste test food. But even though she gets millions of viewers on a daily basis, her most popular videos are of her sitting down and explaining the latest drama to her never before seen boyfriend. Her viewers are so curious on how he looks since they've been together for a couple of years and y/n has always blurred or added a cute hand drawn character of a white dog with dark eye bags to cover his face whenever he gets in frame. That is until a trip to Japan where the couple was peacefully vlogging by a little tanghulu stand, and a streamer was filming not that far from the couple and caught them in 4K. Revealing y/n’s boyfriend to the world.

ੈ✩ pairing - soobin x fem!reader

ੈ✩ a/n - hey…𓏗-𓏗 it’s been a while since my last post and again sorry. I have been working and trying to get my bag. A little life update: I met katseye during their first fan event which was CRAZYt they are so pretty in person, then I went to see the txt vr movie seeing them so close was freaking me out while also kicking my feet (and yes I’m seeing it a second time I’m delulu). I want to start writing little scenarios of the members instead of full stories. Maybe it will help me write more and get more creative. Inspired by my girl Stephanie Soo and her husband (I love them!)

Y/n Rose started her channel 3 years ago and it instantly blew up because of her aesthetic style and people loved how relatable and humble she was with her new found fame through social media. Lots of people talk about how y/n is a loser stuck in a hot person’s body because of her clumsy self and does little stupid things that people find funny and cute. Her viewers didn’t just get invested into her very entertaining content, but because of y/n’s mysterious boyfriend. Who goes by Soob or Binie and sometimes toki which means ‘bunny’ in Korean. Reddit fans tried their hardest to try to find any photos of her boyfriend through her old post, but unfortunately nothing was found besides him being Korean because of the toki nickname and in videos he’s teaching y/n Korean.

Fans are so desperate to see his face since they know he has to be fine to be able to bag someone as beautiful as y/n, plus he literally has people post edits on tiktok of his hands because his hands are just that attractive to many. Luckily y/n’s fans are respectful and don’t push y/n for information even fans that meet y/n in person don’t sneak pictures of him and don’t answer people’s questions about him.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

Currently the two are flying back to Japan since it’s literally their favorite place to visit since it has everything they’re obsessed with like; anime, Nintendo store, and really good food. Y/n filmed a little montage of herself playing on her deco rog ally (a handheld console almost like a switch) then of her putting on skincare along with a face mask. Until tragedy struck because Soob took off his glasses and placed them on his seat before going to the restroom to wash his face, as he wanted to do his skincare with y/n and once he came back Soob completely forgot he placed his glasses down and sat on them.

The two gasped at the crack sound that came from his butt. “No you did not.” Y/n tried covering her laugh with placing a hand over her mouth, while looking at Soob and back at the camera. Soob slowly reached down and took a pair of now flimsy glasses causing the couple to silently laugh. Y/n accidentally hit her little table so hard that her camera fell off since it was placed at the edge. With Soob’s quick reaction he was able to catch the camera mid air, “y/n-ah!” He whispered yelled. “We can’t already start breaking things before we even make it to Japan.” Soob adjusted the camera in a better angle while y/n hid her face in her (Soob’s) hoodie trying not to be too loud.

After calming down y/n wiped her tears from laughing so much. “Show them your glasses binie.” Soob then held his glasses out like those people who review makeup products, with his hand behind the glasses so the camera can focus on the damage. “Mind you this is the second time this has happened. Where he sets his glasses on the chair goes do something then comes back and his ass does all the damage.” Soob breaks into a laugh. “Sorry that my ass is pretty strong.”

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

Y/n gave a quick room tour of the big hotel room that has an amazing view of Tokyo with the help of her very cute boyfriend who is a great camera man. As y/n was talking she couldn’t help but look at how her toki was giving her heart eyes making y/n lose focus on what she was trying to say. “Stop looking at me like that!” He instantly smiled and continued to tease her. “Like what?”

Fans definitely screen recorded the clip and started making edits quickly. The two finished unpacking and were supposed to start getting ready to adventure outside, but y/n saw that Soob looked so comfortable laying on the bed that she just had to try the bed too. As y/n was now laying down next for Soob explaining their plans to the camera, he instantly got a wave of sleepiness with the warmth of y/n by his side. He set an alarm on his phone which he placed next to him and started to snuggle into her. Y/n was unbothered Soob hugging her or being in frame because she would just edit a sleepy yongmeong sticker over his face.

“He’s making me sleepy~” y/n snicker while watching her toki sleep with his head resting on her shoulder through her viewfinder. It didn’t take long before y/n closed her eyes and started sleeping with the camera still filming. She ended up editing a little fast forward clip of the two sleeping before it cuts to them actually walking down a little street with of course Soob being her cameraman.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

“So we’re actually at a convenience store because someone got sleepy and then got me sleepy, so we ended up sleeping for a couple hours.” Y/n explained, while also swinging their connected hands back and forth happily. “Blame it on the jet lag because I’m so used to New York time.” Soob tries to justify himself. “I guess.” Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at him making Soob laugh. The couple were a few steps away from the convenience store before Soob cuts himself off, “oh! Should we show them your fit?” He backed away to give the camera a full shot of y/n’s outfit. “No, I look like Adam Sandler right now!” Y/n whined, hiding her face with her hands slightly embarrassed by just wearing Soob’s hoodie again with loose gray sweatpants with bows running all down on sides of her legs, paired with her cute decorated crocs. She was still giving a coquette feel to the fit.

“It’s giving Adam Sandler meets coquette vibes.” Soob jokes further leaving a pout on y/n’s lips. “I’m joking. You look very cute.” Soob gently pulls y/n by her hand into a hug comforting her. Cute little gestures like that instantly boosts y/n’s mood, she could never genuinely get mad at Soob. “Let’s show the viewers your OOTD.” Y/n makes sure to just film from the neck down. “Binie has his classic white button up, wide legged pants, basic white shoes, and to top it off his brown bag. It’s giving very boyfriend vibes 101, very demure, very cutesy, very mindful.” Y/n and Soob burst out laughing, getting stares from a couple of people, but they didn’t mind.

“Let’s go get your flavored ice.” Soob wrapped his arm our y/n’s shoulder guiding her in the convenience store. “Oh my god yes! Guys I have been seeing that mainly in Korea there’s this thing- I forgot what it’s called, but it’s for people who love to eat ice. It’s peach flavored ice!” y/n was so excited making Soob smile down at her still filming. “It’s also because she would see those Korean cheerleaders do the little dance and then sit back down to eat the ice.” Soob added. Y/n pulled away from Soob and started the iconic dance the cheerleaders do, making Soob laugh more.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

To no one’s surprise y/n loved the ice and literally finished it in 5 minutes. They got a lot of snacks before heading to their next stop which is a popular tanghulu stand. It was a pretty crowded place since there’s lots of stores all around plus it was the evening, the perfect time to hang out. They weren’t the only ones thinking the same because not far from them was a female streamer obviously streaming also eating tanghulu with her friend. “Guys this is so good!” Her eyes wided while munching on the solid sugar-covered strawberry. She wasn’t paying attention that her chat was freaking out about a certain couple that was being shown in the corner. “Huh? Why is everyone freaking out? Is there a celebrity around here?” Even her friend was confused looking around.

The female streamer was now closely reading the comments until a certain comment in all caps shocked her.

#1: OMG IT'S Y/N AND SOOB!! U JUST REVEALED HIS FACE

“You just revealed-no fucking way!” The poor streamer panicked because they were also big fans of them, but she just unintentionally did something bad. She knew how private y/n is when it comes to Soob to the point where even if Soob is showing something on his phone that y/n blurs the reflection of his face on his phone in videos. The streamer quickly ended her stream abruptly, “dude I have to go up to them and tell them.” She looked at her friend with a stressed expression. “I’m sure they will understand. We’ll go together, plus you didn’t mean to show Soob’s face like that.” Her friend had a point. So she took a deep breath and began walking up to them.

As the couple was just finishing their second sweet treat of the day the poor streamer interrupted them saying their thoughts to the camera. “Um…I’m sorry to interrupt, but hi I’m Alice I’m a streamer and I was streaming literally not long ago and…”, Alice was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know you guys were in the frame and many, many people saw Soob’s face. I’m so sorry.” Alice hated confrontation and was about to burst into tears with how their smiles instantly dropped. The couple looked at each other trying to feel words on what to say.

“Oh, um thank you for telling us instead of leaving us to find out online. Don’t feel sorry it wasn’t your fault plus we’re in public people are recording and taking pictures. Plus I know I could only do so much to try and protect Soob’s identity.” Y/n caressed Alice’s arm to try to make her feel better, clearly seeing her distressed face. “I can’t hide forever, and I again appreciate you telling us.” Alice was shocked at how they were taking this. ”And I’m assuming you're a fan since you know Soob and I.” Y/n wanted to lighten up the mood. “I am!” Alice bursted into tears. Making everyone laugh, as she got to free her emotions. “I loved you guys since the beginning and oh my god you are so handsome and she’s so pretty it’s insane! You are such a power couple and I love seeing Soob always helping you record and you always covering his face with yongmeong who is such a cute character!” Alice finally got to say what she always thought of saying if she ever got to meet them.

Both y/n and Soob’s heart was melting at the cute sight of Alice fangirling and expressing her love for them. They ended up taking pictures together and ensuring Alice that it’s okay and truly wasn’t her fault revealing Soob.

༚✧ ༚꒰ ୨୧ ꒱༚ ✧

It was trending everywhere the clip made it’s rounds and Y/n quickly addressed it before anyone would try to send hate to Alice, and Soob wanted to make a video with y/n after a couple of weeks finally actually revealing himself. He felt like it was inevitable for this to happen and it was bound to happen just not like this. With his decision to do this y/n was a bit opposed to doing this because she knows that Soob is a very private person. But she could tell Soob was already set on doing it.

“After lots of thinking I think it’s time to show the world the literal love of my life.” Y/n and Soob were certainly sitting on the floor in their living room back in New York with a yongmeong face pillow still covering Soob’s face. “Are you going to put it down?” Soob chuckled at y/n. “I’m nervous!” Y/n was more anxious than Soob. “I’ll do it then.” Soob took the face pillow and placed it on his lap. Y/n squealed seeing Soob’s face in the viewfinder.

“Hi I’m Soobin also known as Soob and Binie.” Soobin covered his face feeling shy with y/n hyping him up.

The world suddenly was more colorful, the air was fresher, and the water was bluer and clear now that Soobin revealed his face. People were happy having an actual face to the name and seeing the most visually stunning couple. Soobin even unprivated his instagram but his instagram was literally a fan page of y/n because it was girlfriend material photos of y/n, and his only post with his face was his most recent one that still has y/n in the picture. Which people found so cute that Soobin is so down bad for y/n.

[rin-sith]

Finally, I am happy to present to you my ...

EPIC: THE MUSICAL | ACT I [Character Design project]

I have been working on these for a long time and I am very happy with how these turned out. I am a huge fan of visual character design and I simply needed to do a full lineup.

Act II will follow shortly (it is all done except for Ithaca Saga, which I will add as soon as it drops.) Please enjoy, and read below for some thoughts and background on some of my design choices!

TROY | CYCLOPS ft. Odysseus, Athena, Eurylochus, and Polites

With Odysseus, I really wanted to emphasize his free spirit in this era and mark him as Athena's warrior, so I gave him a special belt and some armbands that represent her (this was inspired by some of @mircsy's work). He also has heterochromia; his left eye is green, representing his cunning, wisdom, and spirit; his right eye is gray, representing his ruthlessness and warrior side.

I simply love Athena in purple/gold. Her mask is a symbol of her invulnerability and comes off only during "My Goodbye" when Odysseus tells her that she's alone. Her cape can also transform into wings, and her eyes are actually golden without the mask.

I had to give Eurylochus his large anime sword (it's just as heavy as it looks but he likes it that way because that means no one besides him is strong enough to wield it ... I imagine Eurylochus can bench press at least Odysseus' and Polites' weights combined. He and Polites are also wearing variants of Odysseus' armor, indicating that they belong to the same army.

Listen, I can vibe with Eurylochus' giant sword but I draw the line at Polites with glasses, sorry. He still gets the hairband, of course. He's also dressed more casually, and without a weapon, because of his pacifistic outlook. He's the physically weakest among the trio by far but also still an inch taller than Odysseus (it's fine, Odysseus is still like 5'10, his friends are just all so freaking tall...)

OCEAN ft. Aeolus, Poseidon, and Odysseus

Not gonna lie, I LOVED designing Aeolus' outfit. She's playful and mischievous and loves to hang out in the clouds all day; her outfit is probably made out of clouds let's be real. Also yes, her image on the windbag moves to make cheeky faces.

Poseidon I cannot imagine without tentacles anymore thanks to @gigizetz's "Ruthlessness", idk it just fits him so well. He definitely got all dressed up to go and sink Odysseus' fleet that day, he has a reputation, you know? And he just likes the shiny gold and accessories; the ocean is full of them so why wouldn't he?

Edit: I actually updated this design somewhat significantly; if you're interested in the current one, check here! He still has a tentacle/monster form, but it's not his only one.

Since breaking up with Athena, Odysseus lost her belt and armbands. He's still wearing her brooch because he couldn't bring himself to fully throw that away as well yet. Polites' hairband around his wrist reminds him of what he's fighting for and what to live by ... for now (Poseidon is about to ruin this man's whole career...)

CIRCE | UNDERWORLD ft. Circe, Hermes, and Tiresias

I wanted to give Circe the "witch" vibe while putting a Greek spin on it and I actually adore her design. She seems both immortally youthful (something I aim for with all my god designs) and motherly. There she was, gathering some herbs when a bunch of strangers crash onto her island ... Oh well, at least this man was a good man this time.

Hermes is kind of just Hermes. I wanted to keep him shaded, a bit impish, and definitely up to no good. He's wearing the contrasting colors on purpose, by the way. And yes, his hat can fly on its own ... But for it to do that he'd have to actually be willing to show his face which he seldom does unless he really trusts you.

Tiresias is a soul, so he has the same kind of ageless youth as all my gods (something that goes for souls of dead people too, since I like to think they get to appear at whatever age they want after death.) He's looking a bit regal since he's a prophet, so I imagine regarded highly, even in the Underworld. Instead of the blindfold, his hood covers his face, adorned with a symbolic eye to identify him and his skill.

***

Well, that's it for ACT I, friends, I hope you liked these! I will upload ACT II asap. Please comment and/or tell me your thoughts about my designs! And feel free to ask any questions you may have! I would love to talk more about these.

[holybibly]

This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?

Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today

Glass House Ateez x reader

Everything changed in an instant. 

The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters. 

A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones. 

There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay. 

It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun. 

All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come. 

The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons. 

The majestic Hala. 

Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible. 

With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began. 

Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist. 

The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have. 

In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.

Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price. 

The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful. 

You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers. 

Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet. 

You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue. 

Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life. 

You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you. 

Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest. 

The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy. 

You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic. 

You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense. 

Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you. 

Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name. 

The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.

Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window. 

The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.

You were saturated with this game. 

There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you. 

It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power. 

No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.

You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.

It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.

You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.

You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.

"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."

There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.

"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".

Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.

On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.

"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".

But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.

That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy.   Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.

In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.

Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.

You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.

You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.

This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for  you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".

Yes, that sounds much better.

It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".

Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.

[soleilpinto]

Cruising in Papaya: Behind the Paddock ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: In all honesty, I hate how I’m already rushing out the chapters one by one, but my final semester is about to start and I have work so I probably won’t have the time to update like this soon. 😭

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

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— laurant.yn merci ma chérie !! x (thank you my darling)

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— laurant.yn merci ! x

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lando My tribute to a hero of mine 🇧🇷

Senna is a true legend of our sport and has inspired not only me but every driver who races today. He's the greatest to ever race around Monaco and I wanted to capture that in this helmet. His iconic design combined with mirrored chrome to reflect the streets he was so great on.

The balmy Monaco air carries the scent of the sea as you sit on the terrace of a chic café, the soft hum of luxury cars passing by blending with the chatter of your friends.

The group is animated as always, a mix of socialites who’ve grown up frequenting glamorous events like the Monaco Grand Prix.

They sip their rosé with practiced elegance, their conversation weaving effortlessly between fashion, parties, and—of course—Formula 1.

“I swear, Charles looked straight at me during the paddock walk last year,” one of your friends gushes, flipping her sunglasses onto her head. “He’s even more gorgeous in person.”

“And don’t get me started on the adrenaline during qualifying,” another chimes in. “There’s nothing like it. Y/N, you must be so excited—it’s your first Monaco Grand Prix, isn’t it?”

You glance up from your glass of sparkling water, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“It is,” you admit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wasn’t really into F1 before Miami, but I guess I’ve had a change of heart.”

One of your friends narrows her eyes playfully. “A change of heart? Y/N, you practically rolled your eyes every time we brought it up. What happened?”

The group leans in, curiosity piqued, and you hesitate for a moment, trying to choose your words carefully.

“Well... I’ve been getting to know one of the drivers,” you say casually as if it’s not a big deal.

The table erupts into a chorus of gasps and playful shrieks. “Oh my God!” one of them exclaims, practically spilling her drink. “You’ve been holding out on us! Which driver?”

You laugh, trying to downplay the situation. “It’s not like that. We’ve just been talking a bit. I met him in Miami, and we’ve stayed in touch.”

“Stayed in touch?” another friend teases, raising a perfectly sculpted brow. “Y/N, do you realize how impossible it is for anyone to get paddock passes casually unless they’re very well-connected? And or loaded, like us, and you’re telling me you just ‘talked a bit’? Spill.”

You can feel your cheeks warm under their teasing gazes. “Okay, fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Lando invited me. Apparently, I’m one of his ‘special guests’ for the weekend.”

The table explodes in a mix of disbelief and excitement.

“Lando Norris? Are you serious? He’s adorable!” one of them exclaims, while another pulls out her phone to scroll through his Instagram.

“So, that’s why you suddenly care about F1,” someone else teases, her tone light but knowing.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “It’s not like that. He’s... nice, okay? Funny. Easy to talk to.”

“And cute,” another adds, grinning. “Don’t forget cute.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yes, and cute. But seriously, it’s nothing. He was kind enough to invite me, and I didn’t want to turn down the opportunity to experience Monaco like this. I usually turned you guys down, remember?”

Your friends exchange knowing looks, their smiles mischievous. “Nothing, huh?” one says. “Y/N, you don’t just end up as a ‘special guest’ for no reason. He’s clearly into you.”

You sip your drink, trying to hide your smile.

“Let’s just say I’m keeping an open mind about the whole F1 thing. For now.”

As the conversation shifts back to race predictions and paddock gossip, you glance out at the shimmering Mediterranean, the soft hum of excitement buzzing in the back of your mind.

The weekend hasn’t even started, but something tells you it’s going to be unforgettable.

@MonacoGlamWatch 🚨 Spotted: Y/N Laurant casually strolling through the paddock with her girl squad at the Monaco GP. No PR team in sight, just her and her friends. But why was she later seen in the McLaren garage? 👀

@EliteInsider Y/N Laurant is serving elegance at the Monaco Grand Prix today, but all eyes are on her unexpected appearance in the McLaren garage. No official work, just her and her very fashionable crew. What’s the connection? 🤔

@VelvetScene Y/N Laurant was all smiles in the McLaren garage today, and we’re dying to know why. No cameras, no campaigns—just her and her friends in their chicest outfits. Lando? 👀

@PaddockChic Okay, but why is Y/N Laurant in the McLaren garage with no professional ties and just her friends? She’s not even pretending to hide it. The tea is brewing. 

The Monaco paddock buzzes around you like a hive, the air electric with the chatter of fans, media, and the occasional roar of engines.

You stand with your friends near the McLaren garage, their conversation flowing effortlessly about the latest F1 gossip and weekend plans.

“So, Y/N,” one of them teases, tilting her head slyly. “How does it feel to be the paddock’s new It Girl?”

You roll your eyes, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrays your attempt at nonchalance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” another chimes in, nudging you lightly. “But I saw Lando giving you that look earlier. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Okay, first of all,” you start, but your voice trails off as you notice a McLaren team member motioning subtly in your direction.

“You’re excusing yourself, aren’t you?” one of your friends guesses, her grin wide.

You sigh, smoothing down your outfit. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” another quips, her smirk far too knowing. “We’ll just be here... observing.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping as you turn and walk toward the motorhome.

Once inside, the hum of the paddock fades into the background, replaced by the cool quiet of the space. You spot Lando almost immediately, leaning casually against the counter, his water bottle in hand.

He’s dressed down compared to the chaos outside—team polo slightly rumpled, sneakers tapping lightly against the floor—but somehow, he looks even more at ease.

“Hey,” he greets, his smile lighting up as he sees you. “Surprised you made it through the crowd in one piece.”

You chuckle, walking over to him. “Barely. It’s chaos out there. I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“Years of practice,” he replies, pushing off the counter and gesturing toward the couch. “Come on, sit. You look like you could use a break.”

You settle onto the plush cushions, smoothing your skirt as he sits across from you.

“So,” he starts, leaning forward slightly, “what do you think of your second paddock experience?”

You tilt your head, considering.

“It’s... overwhelming, but in a good way. The energy here is incredible.”

“And the constant cameras?” he asks, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

You groan, dropping your head back against the couch.

“Don’t even get me started. I’ve never had so many people try to take my picture. It’s like they’re waiting for me to trip or spill coffee or something.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Welcome to my life.”

“Yeah, but you’re used to it,” you counter, sitting up again.

“You’re Lando Norris. People are obsessed with you.”

He shrugs, his grin softening.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. Especially when they start making stuff up.”

“Tell me about it,” you sigh. “People are already speculating about why I’m here, and it’s barely been a day. Gossip accounts are relentless.”

Lando leans back, his gaze flicking briefly to the window where the paddock chaos is visible.

“They don’t even need a reason. One picture, and suddenly I’m marrying someone I’ve barely spoken to. It’s ridiculous.” You nod, fiddling with the edge of a pillow.

“Or they’re claiming you’ve got some secret feud going on. I can’t even go to lunch without it becoming a thing.”

He grins, leaning in slightly. “Feuds and engagements? You’re really living the high life.”

“You’re impossible.” You laugh, nudging his knee lightly.

“Maybe,” he says, his tone lighter now. “But honestly, it’s nice having you here. Even with all the noise, you make it easier to ignore.”

You glance at him, catching the sincerity in his expression. His blue-green eyes hold yours for a moment, and there’s a warmth there that makes your chest tighten in the best way.

“Thanks,” you say softly. “It’s nice having someone who understands what it’s like.”

He nods, his smile small but genuine. “It’s not easy, but... I think it’s worth it.”

Before you can respond, a faint knock on the door reminds you of the world waiting just outside.

“Looks like our quiet time is up,” you say, standing and smoothing down your outfit.

Lando rises too, his grin returning. “For now. But hey, maybe we’ll give them something to really talk about.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you open the door, the noise of the paddock rushing back in. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he teases, his voice light but his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary.

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laurant.yn monaco with a twist

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littlefoxhermes i smell a new motorsport fan

The low hum of the McLaren 720S fills the quiet Monaco streets, its sleek curves illuminated by the city’s golden glow.

Lando waits outside your building, casually leaning against the car, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other fiddling with his phone. When he looks up and sees you, a soft smile spreads across his face.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice warm. “Hope I didn’t pull you away from anything important.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Not at all. Midnight drives with F1 drivers aren’t exactly a regular thing for me, though.”

He chuckles, opening the passenger door for you. “Well, let’s change that.”

You slide into the car, the luxurious leather seats cradling you as he closes the door and rounds to the driver’s side. The engine purrs to life, the sound deep and resonant.

As he pulls out onto the winding roads, the city stretches out below you, the harbor glittering like a sea of stars.

For a while, neither of you speaks, content to let the drive and the scenery fill the silence. But eventually, Lando breaks it.

“So,” he begins, glancing over at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “How are you feeling about all... this?”

You furrow your brows, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t mean the drive. “About what, exactly?”

“Us,” he says simply, the word hanging in the air between you. “Whatever this is.”

You lean back in your seat, your gaze drifting to the passing lights.

“Honestly? I don’t know yet. It’s... different. But not in a bad way.”

“Different is good,” he agrees, his voice thoughtful.

“I just—” He pauses, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “I don’t want to rush this. Or put unnecessary pressure on it.”

You turn to look at him, your expression softening. “Me neither. I think... it’s okay to take our time. To figure out what this is without trying to label it right away.”

He nods, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile.

“Exactly. I like spending time with you. A lot. But the media, the expectations—it can mess with things if we let it.”

“Then we don’t let it,” you say simply. “We keep it between us, no labels, no pressure. Just... whatever feels right.”

He glances at you again, his gaze lingering this time. “You’re surprisingly good at making things simple.”

“Maybe it’s you who complicates things, Norris.” You laugh softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He grins, the tension in the car easing. “Touché.”

The car slows as he pulls into a quiet overlook, the harbor stretching out below like a postcard. He parks and leans back, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel as he looks at you.

“For the record,” he says, his tone light but sincere, “I like this. Whatever it is. I want to see where it goes.”

You smile, warmth spreading through you at his words. “Me too.”

For a moment, the world outside the car fades away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble. No cameras, no fans, no expectations—just a boy and a girl, exploring something new and uncharted.

“Alright,” he says finally, starting the engine again. “No labels, no drama. Just us.”

“Just us,” you echo, leaning back in your seat as the car glides back onto the road.

The drive continues, the conversation light but tinged with the promise of something deeper. Neither of you knows exactly where this road will lead, but for now, the journey feels enough.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

[astro-stars]

wait do you? (continuation)

The Mostro Lounge was unusually quiet that afternoon, a stark contrast to Yuu’s chaotic day. Earlier, she’d impulsively asked Jack an embarrassing question about beastmen heats due to a lingering truth potion incident that stripped her of her filter. She’d spent the rest of the day dodging curious looks and trying to recover her dignity. Now, as she sat across from Jade and Floyd, the potion’s effects were still in full force, much to her dismay.

Without warning, Yuu blurted out, “Do merfolk mate for life like some sea animals?”

Both twins froze for a split second before Floyd burst into laughter, slapping the table. “Hahaha! Oh man, Shrimpy, where did that come from?”

Jade’s polite smile widened, his sharp teeth glinting. “An intriguing question, Prefect. What inspired such a… candid inquiry?”

Yuu’s face turned crimson as she waved her hands defensively. “I just… I mean, I’ve read things about eels and other sea creatures, and I was curious if it’s the same for merfolk. You know, since you’re… part ocean.”

Floyd leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. “You’re so weird, Shrimpy. But I like it. What’s next? You wanna know if we lay eggs?”

“Wait, do you?” Yuu asked, her curiosity piqued despite herself.

Jade let out a soft laugh, his amusement barely concealed. “No, we do not. Merfolk anatomy has certain… parallels with humans, though there are unique differences.”

“Unique differences?” Yuu echoed, leaning forward unconsciously.

Floyd grinned mischievously, leaning closer. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, Shrimpy? Should I give you the full merbiology lesson?”

“Floyd,” Jade interjected smoothly, his tone carrying a hint of warning. “Let us not overwhelm her with too much information.”

Floyd ignored him, standing abruptly and grabbing Yuu’s arm. “Nah, this is too good. Let’s go see Azul. He’ll love this.”

“Wait, what?” Yuu stammered as Floyd dragged her along, Jade following at a leisurely pace, his expression one of quiet amusement.

The trio found Azul in his office, meticulously reviewing ledgers. He looked up as they entered, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to curiosity.

“Floyd, Jade, Prefect,” Azul greeted, adjusting his glasses. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Floyd shoved Yuu into a chair across from Azul’s desk, grinning from ear to ear. “Shrimpy’s got questions. Real funny ones. You’re gonna love this.”

Jade took a seat beside Yuu, his smile ever-present. “She’s been inquiring about the… biological nuances of merfolk.”

Azul blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Biological nuances?”

“Yeah,” Floyd said, leaning on the desk. “Like if we mate for life, or if we lay eggs. Stuff like that.”

Azul’s face turned a shade darker as he cleared his throat. “Well, Prefect, I can assure you that merfolk biology is… a complex subject. Certainly not something to discuss so casually.”

Yuu buried her face in her hands. “This wasn’t supposed to involve you. They dragged me here!”

Floyd burst into laughter again, while Jade’s chuckles were more subdued. Azul’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Yuu. “Prefect, you’re not usually this… uninhibited. Have you, perhaps, been affected by a potion?”

Yuu groaned. “Yes! It was an accident in class this morning, and now I can’t stop blurting out whatever I’m thinking.”

Azul’s expression shifted to one of realization. “Ah, I’d heard about a truth potion incident but hadn’t realized it was you. How fascinating.” His tone took on a mischievous edge as he leaned forward. “Tell me, Yuu, what do you really think about some of our fellow students?”

“Oh no,” Yuu said, her eyes widening. “I’m not answering that.”

“You might not have a choice,” Jade said smoothly, his amusement evident.

Floyd clapped his hands together, grinning. “Yeah, Shrimpy! What’s your take on lion fishy? Bet you’ve got something good there.”

Yuu groaned again, feeling the words bubble up against her will. “He’s… grumpy but weirdly charming,” she admitted reluctantly. “And he’s got great hair.”

Floyd howled with laughter, while Jade nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting,” he murmured.

Azul smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “And Riddle?”

“He tries too hard,” Yuu blurted, “but he’s really sweet deep down.”

The twins’ laughter echoed through the office as Azul leaned back in his chair, clearly entertained. Just then, the door burst open, and Ace, Deuce, and Grim stormed in, looking frantic.

“There you are!” Ace exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Yuu. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“You can’t just run off when you’re like this!” Deuce added, his expression a mix of worry and exasperation.

Grim hopped onto the desk, glaring at the trio of Octavinelle students. “What are you guys doing with my hench-human? She’s under my protection!”

Floyd burst out laughing again, leaning against the wall for support. “Your ‘hench-human’? Oh, this just keeps getting better!”

Azul adjusted his glasses, his smirk widening. “Ah, her rescuers have arrived. How charming.”

Ace grabbed Yuu’s arm, gently but firmly. “Come on, we’re taking you back to the dorm before you spill more secrets.”

Yuu sighed in defeat as her friends dragged her out of the office, Grim muttering under his breath about irresponsible eels. As they left, Floyd’s laughter echoed down the hall, and Yuu couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever live this day down.

TAGLIST: @soramcduckahyucky @lunasmisosoup

IDEA BY: @kimdourden

DIVIDER/BORDER: MEEE :)

[tackykachowch]

I wanted to make this post really extensive, with a lot of screenshots etc, but I'm literally operating at 0% so forgive me this one time.

So, you all know how I'm constantly after season 2's blood because of how it butchered well...Everything, but especially my favorites Silco and Jinx. And what do you know, they even screwed up Silco's glass. Yes. A Glass. Let me explain.

Animators at Fortiche are real professionals, so they know that every object tells a story, so even small things like glasses or cups can tell us a story or let us understand the character better, or even reflect the whole meta of the show. Arcane season 1 really exceeded at this. Going through every scene of this season I noticed that Piltovans use elegant and neat glasses and cups, and the glasses that are particularly used by the councilors are made out of gold. While Zaunites drink from simple glasses without any ornaments, metal mugs or straight-up out of bottles. But there's this one single glass that's different from any other glass or cup in the ENTIRE season - Silco's glass (also Jinx's cup but I'm not gonna talk about it here).

It's made out of simple glass and is pretty bulky to give an association with Zaun, but also has golden ornaments to associate it with Piltover. This single glass perfectly encapsulates Silco as a character - a Zaunite who rejects living under the status quo and who strives to get his people opportunity and freedom Piltover has. Also it reflects his unique position in society - he operates the entirety of the Undercity, yet even this amount of power is barely enough to compete with Piltover. Silco represents the middle of the barrel, a fusion of both cities at their current states. Then, in ep9 it gets destroyed, foreshadowing Silco's death and destruction of the relative peace the two cities had until this time. It's perfect, no notes.

But theeeen we have season 2 *barely disguised rage*. In it we have my favorite flashback out of all of flashbacks ever, where we see- huh??

Silco's glass?? How did it get in there?? And there's THREE of them now???? This is surely some kind of mistake, right? Let's fast forward a bit- WHAT IS IT DOING IN A CAVE????

So, you want to tell me, that an object unique to Silco and Silco only, which perfectly represented his character and even played a minor narrative role, is in fact NOT unique and its destruction in the season 1 finale meant Literally Nothing???? WHAT??????

This is what I meant when I said that s2 jumped headstrong into the fanservice without the second thought about how it impacts the story and characters. You see, Silco now HAS to keep a glass from the times he, Vander and Felicia were friends. He HAS to keep a diary where he says how he admires Felicia, even though nothing indicated that someone inspired him or something of that sort in prior material. (UPD: Also, Silco is more of an idealistic character in the first place. He DOES care about people to some extent, but he always seemed to fight for the idea itself, and not some people in particular. So to give him this new unknown character as part of his primary motivation is....strange, to say the least. It's almost like writers want to make him more sympathetic hmmm). He HAS to keep a photo of the three of them and an "Our Love" record, because he's a sap like that and he lowed his fwiends so wewy much. We already knew Silco had a soft side because he kept things Jinx made for him, we already knew that he hadn't completely let go of the past because he kept Vander's knife. There's no point in adding all this garbage except make the audience go "awwww". It's disgusting and insulting.

But back to the glasses. It makes no sense that the three of them have the glasses and use them, because none of them have any amount of power yet. Moreover, Vander never has ANY Piltovian aesthetic in his design, and Felicia is literally a non-character, so what is exactly the reason to give her such an important object to begin with? I don't know a thing about her, except that she's arcane's most manic pixie girl ever and that by her sheer existence she ruined Silco and Vander's dynamic. Cool. And why would Silco keep the glass with him throughout all these years? And then openly drink out of it in his office? Is it supposed to mean that he carries on the dream the three of them had? But Vander openly rejected this dream, and the remnant of this is located in the very same office (Vander's knife). Orrr maybe um. Maybe. Ughhh. I can't. Think of anything. Hang on. Maaaybeeee it's ssssupposed to represent how Silco's fight for independence went back to the place it started in (The Last Drop)? Okay, maybe, whatever. But then again, what was the purpose of destroying his glass in season 1 ep9 if presumably the two other glasses are still intact? Except Silco dying it doesn't tell us anything, because it lost the previous weight it had in the narrative.

Then we fast forward again to my favorite episode out of all the episodes ever - s2 ep7. In it Silco appears only for a few seconds, but by God are these one of the most destructive few seconds for his character. First he comes to the scene with his flask in hand. A....weird thing to have in a BAR, but okay.

But then as he says the infamous line about forgiveness Vander hands him- oh. Uhhh...A. A Piltovan glass.

Not Silco's glass, or maybe some entirely new glass to represent Zaun's progress as a free nation, but a Piltiovan one. Okay. You were pretty obvious with the line here writers but I guess it wasn't enough.

S2 proceeds to be an insulting, disgusting mess in its every aspect and I will fight with it for the rest of my life.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Baby Addams.

Pairing: MaleWednesday x reader.

Warning: Mention of kidnapping, Mention of forced marriage, pregnancy, Yandere Male Wednesday. Gomez and Morticia from 1991. (poor transition Spanish and Italian) If you speak any of these languages feel free to correct me nicely thank you.

Summary: You were Wednesday's wife, with a baby on the way. (sorry summary sucks)

A/n: This is inspired by the story Yandere male Wednesday , by @teresalace I asked her permission so yea. Check out the story.

Three years, since you met Wednesday, Three years, since he took you away from everything you knew, Three years since you were married into the Addams family, and finally Wednesday had got what he wanted like he always did. You were pregnant, carrying a new addition to your husband's family. Gomez and Morticia were overjoyed about the news.

It was a dim, gloomy morning, and the massive black blanket lay on your growing stomach "Mi alma, wake up." a monotone voice whispered in your ear as you slowly opened your eyes, his plump lips kissed your shoulder, tracing down your arm to your wedding ring, sweet nothing whisper in Italian in Wednesday's normal deadpan voice before he sighed "My parents are coming." As he getting out of the king bed.

You sighed and sat up as best as you can with a six-month baby bump, the room was dark in aesthetic and semi-normal, with hints of white and a little red amongst the black. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the large custom guillotine that hung above the bed, which luckily was unable to move, You had to convince and seduce Wednesday for that to happen.

Getting up from bed was somewhat difficult, but you managed to waddle to your shared walking closet, black and bright, warm colors were separated down the middle of the metal bar. You quickly showered and threw on a blue maternity dress, earrings to match, and a necklace. The walk downstairs was a little hard even when Wednesday helped, your home was gothic victorian style like your in-laws but less big. Swords, old timely guns, and torture devices littered the walls as while as mirrors, the rugs were dead animals. The furniture was you guessed black and white with red, and some armor and statues stood around the living room.

You both headed to the kitchen; It was a modern kitchen that your husband allowed you to decorate, the only rule? It had to be in his aesthetic which you took. Wednesday leads you to the kitchen island and helped you onto the dark wooden counter stool "Good morning Wednesday" you smiled at him tiredly ready to break the silence "Yes, it is quite a bad morning today." he hummed and sat a glass of water down in front of you and began to make you breakfast. Despite being tricked into this marriage, he was a good husband, dare you say the best; yes, he's..well, him, he never made you feel unloved and was surprisingly romantic. The apple didn't fall that far from the tree, though he wasn't over-expressive with his displays of affection. A loud shriek rang out, making you jump. "I hate that doorbell," you whispered as you took a bit of your breakfast that he put down. "I will get it, Mi Alma" he walked out of the kitchen to the front door, Wednesday inhaled, and opened the door. His dad held a brown box, and his mother smiled at him. "Our boy." She cooed, opening her arms in a grand gesture "Mother, Father. It is a displeasure to see you." Wednesday acknowledged looking boredly between his parents, then sharply turned and walked back to the kitchen; Gomez and Morticia headed to the living room, the door eerily closing behind them.

You swallowed the last bit of food when Wednesday walked in "Come." he offered his arm, you locked your arm his and hopped off the stool.

"There's the woman who stole our son's black, dead heart and hunts his every tortured thought!" Gomez exclaimed loudly as you walked into the living room, earning a threatening "Father." from Wednesday which Gomez ignored. "Hello dear." Morticia gracefully walked to you, almost appearing to be floating "How far along now?" She asked, smiling at you. "Six mouths." You smiled back "We wanted to give you this." She looked back at Gomez, who held up the box. "Shell, we look through it together?" She asked pulling you away from Wednesday and to the floor where Gomez sat the box. Morticia opened it and took out stuff one by one "Here's Wednesday Teddy when he was just a little boy." She cooed and passed you a black teddy with stitches, the head ripped off "Cute.." you grimace, sitting it beside you. She pulled out kid-sized knives and swords. "Oh, this was his favorite toy!" She pulls out a toy guillotine, big enough to chop off a finger or a Barbie's head. 'So the obsession started during childhood. great.' you stared at it hopelessly.

"Son." Gomez touched Wednesday's shoulder, both of them watching their wives interact with each other, one with joy and the other hiding her disdain poorly. Gomez only got a side-eye look from his son, letting his father know he was listening, eyes back onto you "Let's talk." Gomez pat Wednesday's back and walked across the living to the hallway. Wednesday huffed and walked out.

"What do you so desperately need to talk about?" Wednesday stared his father down, wanting to be back within your essence "Son..are you sure she's the one for you? She doesn't scream...Addams material." "Are you saying you disapprove of her?" "Not exactly-" "Because if you are," Wednesday took a step closer to the older Addams "You will never see me or my children. She is my every soul, she cut open my heart and made me bleed for her. I would walk through heaven and back to please her. I would kill for her," his eyes narrowed "Even if it means you." a pregnant silence fell upon the two. If it was a cartoon you would be able to see a row of dots typing above their heads. Gomez grinned and shook his son back and forth. "You have truly found your own Morticia!" he laughed, swung his arm around the tensed Wednesday, and walked back into the room.

You yawned as you laid back into the bed; your in-laws stayed until the dark of the night arrived. Though weird, they were a joy to be around; the love they shared, you had wished for since you were little. You had gotten it from a man who rarely showed emotion, but love doesn't have to be over the top; love could be quiet yet meaningful and coming from someone like your husband. It was more special.

"Are you ready Mi alma?" Wednesday asked, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head; you tiredly nodded as the lights of the room were turned off by themselves; in the stillness of the dark and at the edge of sleep, you whispered a "Te amo." Wednesday allows his lips to curl upward just a bit in the safety of the night "Ti Amo"

Transition

Mi alma.

My soul.

Te amo.

I love you.

Ti amo.

I love you in Italian.

[cosmerelists]

Custom Collective Nouns for Radiant Spren

As requested by anon. :)

You know how there's collective nouns for animals, like a "murder of crows," or a "flamboyance of flamingos" or a "clowder of cats"? Those custom collective nouns sure are fun! So this anon asked what groups of Radiant spren are called. Here is what I think would be neat!

1. A Matrix of Cryptics

This was suggested by the anon who requested this list, and they are so correct.

2. A Judgment of Highspren

I considered other options as well, such as a "Pronouncement of Highspren" or a "Determination of Highspren," but "Judgment" felt right.

3. A Zephyr of Honorspren

A "zephyr" is a type of breeze, which felt right for the windspren-like Honorspren.

4. A Prism of Mistspren

Inspired by how they look like light reflecting onto a surface through a crystal. Plus, it evokes the shattered glass imagery that's always around Renarin, so

5. A Summit of Peakspren

Okay, maybe this one is TOO on the nose, but I like it! Yes, they are mountains so ha ha "summit," but also, a "summit" can be a gathering of people, and I like that lowkey pun.

6. A Verdancy of Cultivationspren

"Verdancy" is the noun from "verdant," so green and flourishing. Makes sense for Cultivationspren, right?

7. A Conflagration of Ashspren

I also considered something like "Curiosity" or "Marvel" to represent their interest in how things work, but "Conflagration" does speak to destruction and makes one think of fire, and therefore ash.

8. An Idiosyncrasy of Reachers

"Idiosyncrasy" is a word referring to a someone's peculiar or individualized behavior/character--it's built off of the ancient Greek idio (self, one's own) + krasis (mixture): so basically, it's your own personal blend. I love that for Reachers, the spren of Willshapers.

9. An Atrament of Inkspren

But this one is my favorite! "Atrament" is a word meaning "a very dark substance, especially a liquid." So - ink, yeah? But also, it's an obscure word, one stemming from the Latin for black, ater, and I think that sort of learned obscurity would appeal to an Inkspren.

[saliosis]

happy halloweeen!! here's my take on a "core refresh" pack (part 6)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 + more under cut

frankie's fashion is very experimental. they like to explore themselves through what they wear since they're just learning things about the world. to symbolize their personality, they have a "quirky" style of fashion. mostly mismatched, mostly all over the place. there's not really a category for frankie's style... not that i can think of. they like to wear anything, honestly. dresses, suits, overalls, shirts, shorts, boots, heels. they're trying to figure out their style, so sometimes they'll incorporate some more colors. they like black and white, but they add teal in. yellow is another color added.

they don't wear real/natural silver because they've learned that this can harm their fellow monsters. any silver accessories they have is fake (painted grey, because that's a way to work around it)

they experiment with piercings

this was in my og design, but they have a huge patch over their left eye. it's plaid, so sometimes they try their best to match their outfits well enough for them to look aesthetically pleasing

likes patterns. stripes, plaid, etc. etc.

clawdeen's fashion is furry and bold. again, this is the fashionista of the school. she is the queen of fashion. again, she likes fur and animal print. whatever she chooses to wear is what usually sets the trends and expectations for those at monster high. she loves to explore herself though. i'd say her style evolves, but these are the main ideas of her fashion. she loves purple, but she also loves green. maybe has a french fashion inspiration? i don't really know how to label it. it's sort of mcbling, but also the style you'd expect of a very cunty aunt who likes shopping. she likes pants best, ngl. jeans are great. skirts are fine by her, she just loves pants.

i like the idea of clawdeen constantly changing up her style. yes, she can also wear something like her g3 outfits. much more coordinated. what i've displayed is the style that takes up most of her closet, tho

she wears glasses, but she has different pairs for each outfit

green is a color she loves so much but doesn't make use of it enough

the wolf family has a little emblem thing i've snuck onto each. it's a golden circle pendant with a small moon on the inside, two little bars holding up the design so it floats. it could also look like a money symbol... idk like coins. it's good luck. mostly for money manifesting and all. she runs with the gold and goes crazy. only gold, no bronze accessories. ever.

on days of the full moon, she will wear super loose clothing. the moon cycles could also impact her fashion choices.

draculaura's fashion is very iconic. a sort of gothy, classic, and romantic sort of look. i'd say she likes to take a spin on victorian styles and make them modern... while also mashing together those 2010s pink/black skull prints and tees that we all know and love. i really like the idea of her in a long dress that hits the floor. i would say she's romantic goth. she likes frills, long ball gowns, lace, and hats that can cover her from the sun whenever she has to travel outside in the daytime. lots of slip dresses if she wants to be more casual. elegance, but done cutely.

the silhouette of an outfit is what matters most to her when it comes to fashion

if she wears a skirt, she wears a big petticoat underneath. a very big petticoat

her parasol can be used interchangeably with a large hat. she always wants either or to match her outfit. and they are always kind of extra

her "victorian" style is a sort of nod to her immortality. she probably likes that fashion period best and likes to try and honor that

i like the idea of her experimenting with her hair. it was a g3 idea, kinda. but bangs, streaks, half and half, etc. i like to imagine draculaura being into the big goth hair

cleo's style is very similar to her g1 style. gold. blues. elegant, fresh, modern, and incredibly easy on the eyes. obviously, she loves to flaunt her designer clothing around school. and since she is so popular, it's expected for her to serve look after look. you will never ever see her look bad. every cleo portrayal i've seen never has enough mummy wrap. she needs it to survive and yet, she only has like, one or two bands on her arms. my cleo's fashion is all about wrap-themed clothing. she has lots of wraps. sometimes she comes up with ways to mix that or even show off her monster trait and heritage. she loves see-through, glittery material too, obviously paired on top of something. but it's glamourous. it's rich. it's sometimes a little 90s inspired, but mostly fresh.

this cleo loves pants. loose pants work, i suppose. but she likes them baggy. one of the best examples of what she likes to wear for pants would be those baggy pyramid-textued pants i designed for her once

gets custom made jewelry (braclets, earrings, etc) that spell out her name in hieroglyphics

likes shorter skirts, but secretly admires longer skirts ten times more

blue lover. any shade. try her. she will obviously mix around her makeup, nails, and hair to work around whatever blue she's feeling

loves gems. lots of gems. real ones, obviously.

doesn't like socks very much. she can literally just do the same thing socks do for feet with mummy wrap. same with stockings

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Hellooooooo 🗣💙🖤

While I'm still thinking and going back to that gif of Riccardo in a bathtub... what do you think about Santino being taken care of like that? What would even get him into that situation that he has no strength or will (or can't do it on his own) to take care of himself like that? How would John help him? I'm pretty sure he is willing to do anything for him. :<

His husband is not doing well, he has to take care of him 😞

Pathetic little wet cat moment with Santino... but also just hurt/comfort again ❤️‍🩹

HELLO this got so out of hand, it's 1,400 words. I ended up really loving this prompt! Lots of comfort for the pathetic wet cat, he really needs it. By the way, this is in the early days of their relationship – they haven’t even made it official yet.

Here's the gif that inspired it.

🖤💙You'll Thank Me Tomorrow 💙🖤

TW: alcohol, vomiting, a person being refused sex because he's too drunk to consent, nonsexual bathing

John was watching the Camorra prince carefully from across the bar. Pink and green lights crashed together on his cheeks, enhancing their lively flush. And he looked beautiful, animated, but…something was wrong. He was talking too loudly, laughing too much, and there was a hint of anger in it. John couldn’t make out what he was saying over the general babble and the music, but whoever he was talking to had been irritating him for a while now, and he’d been dealing with it by throwing back shot after shot of whiskey. It wasn’t like him. He had a glass of wine sometimes in the evenings – it helped him relax. But he never got drunk. John had never seen him like this before.

He caught Addy’s eye over the tap and she let concern flicker through her expression for half a second – yes, she saw it too.

He eyed the man on the stool next to Santino. He was well dressed, a Camorra higher-up of some kind. And he was saying something that Santino absolutely hated. Maybe he was a rival? It was hard to tell. But he was getting more intense as time went on, in response to Santino’s intensity. Before he knew what was happening, their voices were raised. Damn it…he couldn’t bring himself to stay out of it anymore.

He appeared at Santino’s side so suddenly and quietly that he almost startled him. “Hey. Is he bothering you?”

“Wha - ? Oh, John.” He recovered himself in a moment, and instead got a wicked, petulant sort of grin on his face. “No, he’s not bothering me. He can’t bother me. Look, I can even do this.” Santino shoved him.

The man was understandably irate. “Lay off it!”

“Why should I?” He opened his arms, thrusting out his chest, cocky. “You can’t do shit to me! Continental rules.” He grinned, a smug, feline thing, so distinctive to his particular manner of bravado.

“Santino – “ But it was too late. John saw what was going to happen before he did. The man grabbed the glass next to him and dumped it over his head, leaving him shocked and spluttering, with his hair clinging to his face. The conversations nearest to them died away, and a ripple of awkward silence spread to the edges of the room.

He swayed dangerously, moving towards the man instead of the opposite direction where he should be going. “Tu… figlio di puttana…[You….son of a bitch…]”

“Boys!” Addy broke in, a note of solemn warning under her normally bubbly demeanor. “You know the rules. We’re going to be sensible about this, right?”

Santino was still babbling on, almost incoherent. “You don’t…you don’t get to…” But John grabbed his arms, as much to keep him from falling as to keep him from lunging forward.

“Yes, we are. Thank you, Addy, I’ll take care of him.” She nodded in thanks. Santino’s weight lurched around, struggling against him, but he just marched him away towards the elevator.

“Wait…where are we…”

“Your room.” He was leaned fully against John now, seeming suddenly so small, and it made it hard to think. His heart was racing against Santino’s alcohol-drenched vest. “…What floor?”

“Ummm…”

“Never mind. My room. Is that okay?”

“Okay.” He slumped against John’s shoulder, absently grabbing for his hand. John blushed and let their fingers entwine. But Santino was whining even as he nuzzled against him. “Why’d you pull me away? Tsk, you’re so…I could have taken him.“

“You’re not supposed to ‘take him.’ You’ll thank me tomorrow.” He paused. “What did he say to you?”

“He said…he just kept saying things…that he’s glad I’m not the heir, that I don’t deserve command over any of my territory. Kept saying it too subtly and in a friendly way, so I couldn’t say anything back, and I just got angrier and angrier…I hate myself when I’m like this.”

“Don’t hate yourself.” It was a simple thing to say, but it had to be said. The fight was draining out of Santino, and in its place was something tired and needy and very pitiful. The elevator doors opened and John pulled him down the hall towards his room.

“John…I’m too drunk.”

“I know.”

“I don’t feel good.”

“I know.” He stroked his hair and started fishing out his room key, still supporting Santino all the while.

“He’ll attack my territory tomorrow. Because I shoved him. He’ll use it as an excuse. He did it on purpose.” Santino sounded so defeated. His mood was worsening by the moment.

“…Yeah.” John led him inside towards the bed, narrowly preventing him from stumbling into the nightstand and he clutched at his tie in response, trying to steady himself and nearly dragging John down in the process. “Just lay down.”

But Santino just continued swaying and holding onto him. It took him a second to realize he was going to be sick, and by that time he couldn’t get him to the bathroom. He just held his hand and waited for it to be over.

It was like all the energy drained out of him after that. He sunk down against the wall with dead eyes. The room seemed horribly quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll call room service. Um…let’s get you cleaned up.”

Santino nodded. He didn’t seem capable of speaking anymore. There were tears on his cheeks and it made John’s heart ache. He didn’t let go of his hand for even a second while phoning for a maid, and then lifted him in his arms and carried him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them. The room filled with warm steam that made the world feel almost equally blurry to both of them, a sad but intimate space of deep love and care for one another.

None of it seemed to reach Santino. He was limp and pliable and completely unresisting as John peeled off his shirt. He hesitated at his belt, and didn’t touch his underwear at all.

John got him into the water and stood there with him, steadying his shoulders, making sure he wouldn’t fall or be sick again. “We’ll just get you cleaned off enough and then you can lay down, okay?”

“Mmmm…can I have a bath actually?” John almost laughed, relieved that there was still some hint of the demanding little prince he knew.

“Yeah. Anything you want.”

But of course he pushed further. “Can I have your cock in me then?”

This time he really did laugh. “Well no…not that. You’re too drunk, mio caro.”

“Mio caro…” he repeatedly, dazed. “Is that how you feel about me?”

John swallowed. “Yes. It is.”

“That’s how I feel about you too.” A flood of unbridled happiness. But…it couldn’t be true. Santino would probably forget he said that in the morning. Don’t hope. Don’t let yourself hope.

“…Come on, step out for a minute so I can run the bath.”

He looked even more pitiful, leaned against the wall all soaked and shivering in the minute or two it took for John to get the bath water ready. He had a towel around his shoulders at least, but John hurried as much as he could, and rewarded him with a forehead kiss when he was done. Then he lowered him gently into the water. Santino’s eyes closed as he leaned his head back, and he sighed miserably. But after a few moments, he finally seemed to get some peace.

John attended to him in every way he could. He lathered shampoo into his curls and rinsed him with handful after handful of warm water, massaging over his scalp and then the base of his neck. And Santino relaxed further and further at the feeling of those strong, capable hands moving over him, making sure everything was exactly as it should be. He made little inadvertent sounds of joy at being so comforted, and then finally became so sleepy that he made no sounds at all.

John would have to get him out of the water once it got cold, but for now, he might as well let him rest. John sat down on the edge of the tub with a hand over his chest and just held him, looking at the deep frown lines and the signs of care already forming at the corners of his eyes. The world had been too harsh on Santino. He deserved so much gentleness. And John decided then and there that he would give it to him.

[my-plastic-life]

Inspiring Women: Rumiko Takahashi

New custom doll is here! I'm sure we all know about the Mattel Barbie Inspiring Women doll line, right? Well, I took it upon myself to create one of my own because I'm sure Mattel will never make one lol. Click here for behind the scenes on how I made this doll!

I opted to create an Inspiring Woman Barbie based off Rumiko Takahashi, the Japanese manga artist who created my all-time favorite manga and anime, Inuyasha. But that isn't the sole reason she's deserving of this title. Yes, that creation got me into all things Japan and introduced me to the entire anime genre, but this mangaka has excelled in her career for 45 years - a profession that has been primarily male-dominated since its inception.

I also created a box for her designed after the official Mattel Inspiring Women boxes. The outfit she's wearing is inspired by the one she wore during the 2023 knighthood honor she received. Accessories include her most recent book, Rumiko Takahashi: Colors 1978-2024, as well as her 35th anniversary book that comes with removable genuine sketches, plus the first volume of the Inuyasha manga (original Japanese version). The doll I used was the Asian sister of Ariel from the live action Little Mermaid, but I cut her hair and styled it differently, painted some age lines on her face, removed her pink eyeshadow, and gave her some glasses. I also gave her a curvy body with the same articulation that dolls in this series have - movement at the shoulder, elbow, wrist, hip, and knee. Because I'm that much of a perfectionist. :D

Doll in the Inspiring Women box. The scene behind her is an actual photo of Rumiko Takahashi's studio.

Back of the box, all made by me based on actual Inspiring Women boxes.

Fun facts: Takahashi has never been married, and she has stated in interviews that she doesn't plan to. In addition, she works with women exclusively as she writes and creates. She has specifically said that she wouldn't hire a male assistant because he would be "troublesome." She prefers the atmosphere of a studio of women working together without distraction. Her work stands out among other shonen pieces because of its creativity, complex characters, and nuanced romances. Her woman and girl characters are never accessories to the guy hero, which was often the case in early shonen stories, especially. Takahashi often likes to implement strong, independent, multi-facetted female characters in leading roles into her stories. Talk about girl power!

Now for more information as to why she's so deserving of having her own doll in my collection. :D Strap in, because this post is a doozy!

BIO: Rumiko Takahashi (born Oct. 10, 1957) is the best-selling female comic artist of all time, selling more than 170 million copies of her work in Japan alone, and one of the names by which to reckon the evolution of anime. She is one of the wealthiest women in Japan, all of her longer running manga have become TV series, and nearly everything she has written has been adapted into animation (OVA or TV). Perhaps more importantly, her influence and the nature of her series since 1980 have been cited as large contributors to the perception and acceptance of anime as a medium today.

Rumiko with her new Colors book. Outfit inspired by the one she wore when receiving her knighthood.

All of Takahashi’s work has become popular throughout the world, and with more than 20 years of publishing her manga art, she earned the title of The Princess of Manga.

Takahashi's professional career began in 1978 when she was a university student. That year, she worked on her first full-length series entitled Urusei Yatsura. It became one of the most loved manga and anime comedies in Japan. In 1980, when she began to publish regularly, she began her second major series, Maison Ikkoku. This series is now considered to be one of the all-time best manga romances.

As her stories appeared and attracted many fans, Takahashi grew in popularity as an artist while improving her writing and artistic abilities. In 1987, a huge year for her career success, three of her most well-known stories ended and she began work on Ranma ½. The series continued for nearly a decade until 1996, when it ended at 38 volumes. Ranma ½ and its anime adaptation are cited as some of the first of their mediums to have become popular in the United States. While publishing Ranma ½, Takahashi was hospitalized several times for peritonitis. But even during her second hospital stay, the series did not stop.

35th anniversary book has removable sketches - real photos actually drawn by the artist. The background is an actual photo of her basement (note all her figures!)

During the latter half of the 1990s, Takahashi began her fourth major work, Inuyasha. With this series, Takahashi is also often said to be the first woman to successfully set foot in the Shōnen genre and leave a lasting impact on it. To date, Inuyasha is her longest-running series, ending in 2008. In 2020, it received a sequel series titled Yashahime: Princess Half Demon.

In the basement library (actually in her home) with the first volume of the Inuyasha manga.

On July 30, 2008, Takahashi noted her 30th anniversary as a mangaka, and on July 8, 2009, during Shonen Sunday's 50th anniversary celebration, characters from three of her most popular series (Urusei Yatsura, Ranma ½, and Inuyasha) joined together in a short crossover to welcome everyone to the celebratory milestone. That same year, VIZ Media, one of the entertainment industry’s most innovative and comprehensive publishing, animation and licensing companies, announced the launch of a brand new imprint, Shonen Sunday, featuring the works of some of the top shonen manga creators in the world today. Takahashi's series RIN-NE was the first to be featured in the new imprint, and was the first manga novel ever to be published simultaneously in Japan and North America.

In her studio showing off genuine sketches. Featured here: Featured here: Lum from Urusei Yatsura, the Tendo house from Ranma 1/2, and Inuyasha character heights. This outfit is inspired by the one she wore at the Rumic World 30th anniversary ribbon-cutting.

Early in her career, Takahashi expressed that though she doesn't write love stories often, she loves a good love story. While none of her works are straightforward romances, many of her works early and later on have compelling romance subplots that are integral to the characters and world. Her works like Inuyasha and Ranma 1/2 are known for their romances. Takahashi's romances are varied, and they are trendsetting. They set the standard for popular romance tropes like slow-burn romances and love triangles. The love triangle between Kagome, Kikyo, and Inuyasha is one of the most iconic in all anime.

In her studio showing off genuine sketches. Featured here: Ranma from Ranma 1/2, Lum from Urusei Yatsura, and Mao and Kiba from Mao.

In her studio showing off genuine sketches. Featured here: Yashahime, Inuyasha 20th anniversary, and Inuyasha, Kagome, and Moroha.

Outfit inspired by the one worn during the Rumic World 30th anniversary ribbon cutting.

HONORS: * Takahashi won the New Comic Artist Award in 1978. * Winner of the 1994 Inkpot Award at The San Diego Comic Con in America. *In 2016, ComicsAlliance listed Takahashi as one of 12 women cartoonists deserving of lifetime achievement recognition, stating that "any one of her projects would be the career highlight of another talent." In 2017, Takahashi was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame as part of the 2016 class. *In July 2018, Takahashi was inducted into the Eisner Hall of Fame. She was previously nominated for entry in 2014, 2016 and 2017. *In January 2019, Takahashi won the grand prize at the prestigious Angouleme International Comics Festival in France, becoming the second woman and second Japanese manga artist to win the award at the festival. * In 2020, Takahashi was awarded Japan's Medal with Purple Ribbon. First awarded in 1955, this honor is awarded to individuals who have contributed to academic and artistic developments, improvements, and accomplishments. * Takahashi was inducted into the Harvey Awards Hall of Fame in October 2021. The Harvey Awards are one of the comic industry's oldest and most prestigious awards. Recognizing outstanding achievement in multiple categories, the Harvey's have been a fixture of the comic industry since 1988. * In April 2023, Takahashi was conferred the Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (Order of Arts and Letters) by the French government. She is the first female mangaka to receive this honor.

Books: 35th anniversary (with removable genuine sketches inside), Colors: 1978-2024, and volume 1 of the Inuyasha manga.

Genuine sketches, all fit inside the 35th anniversary book.

Source photos (first is from being bestowed a Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters, second is from the Rumic World 30th anniversary ribbon cutting in 2008):

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 16: It's A Miracle

Logan receives a call from Charles, saying the center needs to close. Little does he know his guardian angel lives under the same roof as him.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, it's sad and then it's not sad.

A/N: hello!!!!!!! see??? I promised you light at the end of the tunnel and there, you have it!!! though it's only the light, you're not out of the tunnel....yet.... In case you're asking yourself wait...this is super unrealistic, let me tell you I did some research and like 60% of whatever business is going on is real. don't come at me. it's a fan fiction. hope you like it!! enjoy!!!!! (p.s: yes there's nick fury, there, y/n's high school is just an entire mcu reference)

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part / Next Part

The dinner table was a lively mix of clinking utensils and Wade’s animated storytelling. Y/N sat across from Logan, catching his occasional glances but noting the stiffness in his posture. He had barely touched his plate, his fork tracing patterns in the mashed potatoes while Wade relayed his latest gig mishap.

“So then I said—wait, wait, hold on—” Wade waved his fork for emphasis, nearly flinging a piece of chicken across the table. “So this guy yells, ‘You suck!’ and I’m like, ‘Yeah, but only on special occasions, and definitely not for you.’” Wade smirked, pausing for dramatic effect. “Gotta keep the standards high, you know?” He chuckled at his own joke, but Logan didn’t react.

Logan’s brow furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID. His jaw tightened as he stood and picked up the phone. “Excuse me,” he said, stepping onto the balcony and sliding the door shut behind him.

Y/N and Wade exchanged puzzled looks. Through the glass, they watched Logan pace back and forth, one hand holding the phone to his ear while the other raked through his hair. The muffled sound of his voice filtered into the room, sharp and uneven.

“Already?” Logan’s tone was incredulous, tinged with frustration. “No, that’s not—dammit, this isn’t right. Not for them.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. She couldn’t make out the specifics, but Logan’s fragmented words and tense body language painted a grim picture. Wade’s smile faded, concern clouding his features as he tapped his fork against his plate.

“Should we…?” Y/N whispered, her voice trailing off.

Wade shook his head slightly. “Give him a minute. He’ll tell us if he wants to.”

But as the minutes stretched on and Logan remained on the balcony, his pacing slowing to a halt, their worry deepened. Y/N couldn’t stand it any longer. She stood and carefully slid the door open. “Logan?”

He turned at the sound of her voice, his face shadowed by the dim balcony light. The usual strength in his eyes was replaced by an unsettling mix of anger and despair. He swallowed hard, looking away as if to shield them from his emotions.

“The center… it’s closing,” he said finally, his voice raw and barely audible.

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “What? They’re shutting it down?”

“Yeah,” Logan muttered, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Charles just called to tell me. They’ve hit their limit. Too many students, not enough funding. They… they can’t even guarantee making it to the end of the school year.”

Wade stepped onto the balcony, his usual levity replaced with quiet concern. “Logan, that’s… that’s horrible, man. What are they gonna do about the kids?”

Logan let out a bitter laugh. “Find replacements, supposedly. Like that’s an easy thing to do. They need specialized care. They need consistency. This… this isn’t fair to them.”

Y/N stepped closer, her hand hovering near his arm. “Logan, I… I’m so sorry. Is there anything we can do?”

“No,” Logan said sharply, then softened. “No. Charles said it’s out of our hands. They’ve been barely holding on as it is. Apart from a miracle, nothing can save it now.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he quickly looked away, blinking hard. Wade started to speak, but Logan cut him off with a raised hand.

“I need to…” Logan began, his voice faltering. “I need… I don’t fucking know.” He stepped back, brushing past them into the apartment.

Y/N followed, her heart breaking at the sight of his trembling hands as he grabbed his jacket. “Logan, please, let us help—”

“I can’t handle this right now,” he said, his tone distant. “I just… I can’t.”

Without another word, he pushed past them and went inside, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch.

“Where are you going?” Wade called after him, concern lacing his voice.

“To see Charles,” Logan muttered without looking back. “Maybe we can… I don’t know. Try to figure something out. Just—don’t wait up.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Y/N and Wade in stunned silence.

Y/N stared at the closed door, her chest tight with an ache she couldn’t quite place. “Wade, what do we do?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wade scratched the back of his head, uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t know, but… he’ll come around. He just needs time.”

But Y/N wasn’t so sure.

———

The apartment was eerily quiet that night. Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the scene over and over in her mind. Every time she thought of the despair in Logan’s eyes, her heart ached all over again. She rolled over, checked her phone—it was nearly 2 a.m. Still no sign of him.

Just as she was about to give up and try to force herself to sleep, she heard the faint creak of the front door. She sat up instantly, slipping out of bed and opening her door just enough to peek out. Logan was back, his shoulders hunched as he trudged toward his room. He looked utterly drained.

“Logan,” she called softly.

He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “You should be asleep,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Y/N stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. “So should you.”

Logan sighed, his hand pausing on the doorknob to his room. He didn’t look at her as he spoke. “I… I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Or Wade. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re going through something really hard, Logan. We understand.”

Finally, he turned to face her, his expression weary but sincere. “It’s not an excuse. You’re here for me—both of you—and I treated you like shit. I’m sorry.”

Y/N offered him a small, understanding smile. “It’s okay. Really.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan looked like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he nodded and turned back toward his door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

As he disappeared into his room, Y/N lingered in the hallway for a moment, the weight of the exchange settling over her. The conversation had been brief, but it carried a depth that left her heart aching and her mind racing. She returned to her room, the moment lingering in her thoughts as sleep continued to evade her.

———

The next morning, Y/N sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring her coffee while Wade stared at the fridge, eating cereal straight from the box. The silence in the apartment was noticeable—there was no sound of Logan's heavy footsteps, no gruff "good morning," no sarcastic remark about Wade’s breakfast habits.

“He’s gone already,” Wade said, breaking the silence as he gestured toward the empty hallway with his spoon.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied softly. “He left before I even woke up.”

“That’s not like him.” Wade dropped the cereal box on the counter and turned to face her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “He’s avoiding us.”

Y/N sighed, setting her mug down. “Last night really got to him.”

Wade scratched the back of his head, his face creasing with concern. “Man, I don’t know what to do. He’s always been the guy holding everything together, you know? Now it’s like… we’re watching him fall apart, and I don’t…fucking know how to stop it.”

“Neither do I,” Y/N admitted, her voice heavy with worry. “But we have to do something. He can’t handle this alone.”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “Like what? You got some magic plan to save the center?”

“I don’t know,” she said quickly, feeling the weight of the situation. “I have no idea.”

Wade sighed, feeling helpless. “That’s not fair. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Y/N shook her head, overwhelmed by everything. Logan didn’t deserve this. His students and colleagues even less so.

———

By midmorning, Y/N was seated in her classroom, going through the motions of preparing for the day. But her mind wasn’t on her students or her lesson plan—it was on Logan, the center, and what she could do to help. The idea had been floating in her mind all morning, and finally, she decided she couldn’t let it go.

When the bell rang, signaling the start of her free period, she made her way to the administrative wing. Taking a steadying breath, she knocked on the door of the school’s headmaster, Mr. Fury.

“Come in,” his voice called from inside.

Y/N pushed the door open and stepped in. Fury looked up from his desk, his piercing gaze locking onto her immediately. “Y/N. What can I do for you?”

She hesitated briefly, gathering her thoughts. “I wanted to talk to you about something important. It’s about a local center for special education—one of my roommates works there, and they’re shutting down because they’ve run out of funding.”

Fury raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. She continued, choosing her words carefully. “They’re trying to keep things running, but it’s impossible without help. I was wondering if there’s anything the school could do to support them. Maybe a partnership, a fundraiser—anything to keep them afloat.”

Fury leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled. “And why is this something the school should get involved in?”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush. “Because it’s more than just another organization struggling to stay afloat. This center provides critical support for kids who can’t thrive in a traditional school setting. If it closes, those kids won’t just lose a school—they’ll lose their sense of stability, of safety. Isn’t that worth trying to protect?”

Fury’s sharp gaze softened slightly, but he didn’t relent. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, but you know how these things work. The school board isn’t going to greenlight funding or support for a non-affiliated institution without a solid proposal and a damn good reason. It’s not as simple as putting a jar out for donations in the teacher’s lounge.”

“I understand that,” Y/N said quickly, trying to suppress her frustration. “But this isn’t just about money. It’s about showing support, using our connections to help them find resources they wouldn’t otherwise have. If we could just open a dialogue with the center, maybe we could come up with a solution together.”

Fury studied her for a long moment before sighing. “Alright. I’ll bring it up with the board and see if they’re even willing to entertain the idea. But you’re going to have to give me something to work with—a name, a contact, details about their situation. I’m not walking into that meeting empty-handed.”

Relief flooded Y/N, and she nodded eagerly. “I’ll find out everything you need and get it to you as soon as possible.”

“Good,” Fury said, leaning forward. “But don’t get your hopes up. These things take time, and time isn’t something you said they have a lot of.”

“I know,” Y/N said softly. “Thank you for considering it.”

———

As soon as she was back in her classroom, Y/N opened her laptop and began searching for contact information for Charles. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she pieced together snippets of information—articles about the center, mentions of his name in local education networks, and finally, an outdated press release with a phone number attached.

She hesitated only a moment before dialing.

The phone rang twice before a deep, familiar voice answered. “Charles Xavier speaking.”

“Hi, Charles. This is Y/N Y/L/N. I… I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at the center’s party a while back. I’m Logan’s roommate.”

There was a pause, and then Charles said warmly, “Of course I remember you. How can I help you, Y/N?”

“I hope I’m not bothering you, but I wanted to talk to you about the center. Logan told us about the situation last night, and I’ve been trying to think of ways to help.”

Charles sighed heavily. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m not sure there’s much anyone can do at this point. We’ve exhausted every avenue. The center’s closure feels inevitable.”

“Maybe,” Y/N said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “But I’ve spoken to my school’s headmaster, and he’s willing to discuss the situation with the school board. They might be able to help, but he needs details—how many students are at the center, what kind of resources are needed, anything that could help him make a case.”

Charles seemed surprised. “You went to your school about this?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I know it’s a long shot, but I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.”

There was a pause, and then Charles said, “I can send you the information you need. I’ll email it over today.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, relief flooding her voice. “This could make all the difference.”

“I hope so,” Charles said gravely. “But don’t get your hopes up too high. I’ve learned the hard way not to expect miracles.”

“Charles…” she hesitated, chewing her lip. “Please don’t tell Logan about this— not yet.”

He paused. “Why not? He’d want to know someone is trying to help, especially if this someone is—”

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “but this is important to him, and if it works out, I want it to be about the center, not me. He doesn’t need to know where the help came from. At least not right now.”

Charles seemed to consider her words before replying, “You care about him a great deal, don’t you?”

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks but didn’t answer directly. “I just want to do what’s right.”

“Well,” Charles said after a moment, “I’ll keep this between us. Thank you for trying, Y/N. It means more than you know.”

As the call ended, Y/N leaned back in her chair, a mixture of relief and nervousness washing over her. She wasn’t sure how things would turn out, but for Logan—and for the kids at the center—she was willing to take the risk.

———

Nearly two weeks later, Y/N found herself standing outside the school board’s conference room. She smoothed her palms over her pants, trying to still the nervous energy thrumming in her chest. Through the windowed doors, she could see Charles Xavier seated at the far end of the room in his wheelchair. He noticed her and gave a reassuring nod. Y/N exhaled deeply, gathering her courage before stepping inside.

The meeting stretched on, filled with debates and discussions. The board members, led by Fury, analyzed every angle of the proposal, their questions relentless.

“How do we ensure these students get the same quality of education?” one member asked sharply. “A public school environment is worlds apart from a specialized center.”

Charles leaned forward slightly, his calm demeanor unshaken. “We’ve done this work for decades,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “I created the center with a dear friend of mine, Erik Lehnsherr, our goal was to provide a space where every child, regardless of their challenges, could thrive. We’ve guided thousands of young people through their education, often giving them opportunities they never thought possible. That mission doesn’t end just because the building’s doors close.”

Y/N glanced at Charles, momentarily caught by the sincerity in his tone.

Nick Fury folded his arms. “That’s an admirable sentiment, Professor, but sentiment alone won’t make this work. How do you expect us to handle the logistics of integrating students and teachers into an entirely different environment?”

“The key is collaboration,” Charles replied. “My staff will be willing to continue working with these children under your roof. Transition is never easy, but with the right programs and guidance, it’s absolutely possible. These children deserve the same chance as anyone else to find their place in the world.”

Another board member, a woman with sharp features and a skeptical gaze, spoke up. “Funding. That’s the other hurdle. We can’t take this on without significant financial support.”

Y/N cleared her throat, stepping into the conversation. “We’re already working on securing outside funding. Families, local organizations, and even planned fundraisers are ready to contribute. The school won’t bear this burden alone.”

The discussions continued, with tension rising and falling like a tide. Questions about infrastructure, sustainability, and the emotional impact on the students were debated in exhaustive detail.

At one point, Charles addressed the room with a calm yet impassioned resolve. “When Erik and I started this journey, we knew it wouldn’t be easy. But we also knew it was necessary. These children—and so many others like them—deserve a future where they can flourish. If this partnership can give them that, then I believe it’s worth every effort.”

Finally, after hours of back-and-forth, Nick Fury leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. “All right. Here’s the deal. The school will manage the transition, integrating the students and staff into our facilities. Students can choose between new programs or continuing their current curriculum, with full support provided throughout the process. We’ll secure funding through your community partnerships and additional resources.”

Charles exhaled a deep breath, nodding in appreciation. Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her, though the reality of what lay ahead was sobering.

Weeks later, when the agreement was finalized, Charles requested a private meeting with Y/N. They met in his office at the center after everyone had left, the shelves lined with photographs of smiling children and proud teachers.

“Y/N,” Charles began, his tone warm and genuine, “I owe you a debt I can never repay. Without you, this partnership wouldn’t exist. The center would have been lost.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Y/N said softly. “I just… I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Not for the kids. And not for Logan.”

Charles studied her for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes. “You and Logan remind me of Erik in some ways,” he said with a faint smile. “He was never one to stand idly by, either.”

Y/N tilted her head. “What was he like?”

Charles’s expression grew wistful. “Brilliant. Stubborn. Infuriating at times, but his heart was always in the right place. We built this center together because we believed in giving these children a chance to grow, to find their place in a world that so often pushes them aside. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but we shared that vision. And for decades, we’ve seen the impact it’s had. Thousands of young lives changed for the better.”

“But he’s not here anymore?” Y/N ventured carefully.

Charles’s smile faded. “No. Erik left the center many years ago. His convictions… they took him down a different path. We haven’t spoken since.”

There was a brief silence before Charles continued, his tone softening. “I often think about what we could have accomplished if we’d stayed united. But life doesn’t always follow the paths we envision.”

Y/N nodded, touched by the weight of his words. “It sounds like you’ve already made a difference. This place—it’s changed so many lives.”

Charles smiled faintly. “And thanks to you, it will continue to do so.”

He leaned forward slightly. “When Logan finds out—”

“He won’t,” Y/N interrupted quickly. “Please, Charles. Promise me you won’t tell him, or anyone. This isn’t about recognition. It’s about saving something that matters to him. That’s all I care about.”

Charles hesitated, his brows furrowing. “You deserve to be acknowledged for what you’ve done.”

“It’s better this way,” Y/N insisted. “Logan’s been through enough. Let him believe it’s a stroke of luck or the community coming together. Just… not me.”

After a long pause, Charles finally nodded. “If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your wishes.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, a weight lifting from her shoulders.

As she left his office that evening, the satisfaction of saving the center mingled with a bittersweet ache. Logan’s world would remain intact—but he could never know the lengths she had gone to for him.

———

A few days later, the apartment was quiet when Logan returned from work, his bag slung over one shoulder. Y/N was on the couch grading papers, while Wade sprawled next to her, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” Logan said casually as he walked in, dropping his bag near the door.

Y/N and Wade both looked up, exchanging a quick glance. He sounded… normal. Too normal.

“Hey?” Wade repeated, sitting up slightly. “What’s this? No broody silence? No existential sighs?”

Logan gave him a faint smirk and crossed the room, flopping down on the couch next to them. “What? Can’t a guy just sit?”

Y/N frowned, her pen pausing mid-note. She couldn’t remember the last time Logan had come home and joined them like this without carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

And she knew exactly why.

“How you doing?” Wade asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Logan leaned back, stretching an arm along the back of the couch. “Good,” he said simply.

Wade blinked. “Good? Like, good good? Or good as in ‘don’t ask me any more questions’?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, he bolted upright, startling both of them.

“The center’s been saved!” he blurted, his face breaking into the most uncharacteristically wide grin they’d ever seen.

“What?” Y/N gasped, standing up in ‘shock’.

“No way!” Wade exclaimed, springing to his feet. “Are you serious?!”

Logan laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound that seemed to light up the room. “Yeah! It’s official. They’ve worked out a deal—everything’s going to be fine!”

Before Y/N could react, Wade launched himself at Logan, wrapping him in a bear hug and yelling like they’d just scored the winning goal in a championship.

“Hell yes! I knew it, peanut! I told you it would work out!” Wade shouted, shaking Logan back and forth.

“Get off me, you idiot,” Logan said, laughing as he pushed Wade off.

As Wade released him, Y/N stepped forward, her heart pounding. She hesitated for a fraction of a second—partly overwhelmed by his joy, partly to keep her composure—then wrapped her arms around him. “Logan, that’s amazing. How? How did this happen?”

Logan returned the hug briefly before pulling back, his eyes shining. “It’s incredible. They worked out a plan to keep everything running. The students will transition to a new location, and they’ve found ways to secure funding long-term.”

“That’s incredible,” Y/N said, her voice warm, though her mind raced to maintain her act.

“You’re telling me,” Logan said, his grin widening. “But guess what?”

“What?” Wade and Y/N said in unison.

Logan’s smile grew even wider. “It’s all thanks to your school, Y/N. They came up with the plan, and they’re making it happen.”

Y/N blinked, leaning back slightly to sell her surprise. “What? My school?”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. They’re integrating the program into the high school. And get this…” He paused for dramatic effect, his gaze bouncing between them. “I’ll be working there too!”

“What?!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice a little higher than intended.

“Dude!” Wade shouted, grabbing Logan and spinning him around in celebration.

Y/N watched them, laughing and clapping along, her chest tight with a mix of relief and happiness. Logan hadn’t stopped smiling since he walked in, and seeing him this happy was worth every second of her scheming.

“We’re going out to celebrate,” Logan announced, brushing himself off as Wade finally let him go. “Drinks are on me.”

“Hell yeah!” Wade said, pumping a fist in the air.

Logan headed to his room to grab his jacket, leaving Y/N and Wade alone.

As Logan disappeared into his room to grab his jacket, Wade turned to Y/N, his eyebrows raised. “Alright, Miss Academy Award. Spill.”

Y/N froze. “Spill what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Wade said, crossing his arms. “You didn’t even flinch when he said your school made it happen. So... what’s your deal in this?”

Y/N’s laugh was light but forced. “My deal? I work there, Wade. That’s my deal.”

Wade narrowed his eyes, his suspicion deepening. “Uh-huh. And you just happened to have no idea this was happening? Come on, Y/N. How much of this was you?”

“None!” she said, her voice higher than intended. She winced and busied herself straightening her papers. “It’s just a coincidence. Schools do this kind of stuff all the time, I’m sure.”

Wade stared at her for a long moment before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh my God, it was you!”

“Shh!” Y/N hissed, darting a panicked glance toward Logan’s room. She grabbed Wade’s arm and pulled him toward the kitchen.

“Are you serious right now?” Wade said, his voice a mix of excitement and disbelief. “You’re the reason this happened?”

“Wade, keep your voice down!” Y/N whispered, her tone urgent. “And no, it wasn’t me. I just… I might’ve… encouraged the right people, okay? That’s all.”

“That’s all?!” Wade exclaimed, though he managed to keep his voice low. “Y/N, you saved the center! That’s huge!”

“No, I didn’t. The center saved itself. I just... helped things along a little. And Logan cannot know, Wade. Promise me.”

Wade’s brow furrowed. “Why not? He’d be over the moon if he knew you were behind this!”

“Because this isn’t about me,” Y/N said firmly. “It’s better this way.”

Wade stared at her in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable. You know that, right? Both of you are. Oblivious, self-sacrificing idiots. I hate slow-burns.”

“Wade,” she said again, her tone pleading.

“Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands. “I won’t say anything. But you’re still an idiot.”

Before Y/N could respond, Logan reappeared, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “You two ready, or what?”

“Absolutely,” Wade said, flashing Y/N a grin as he threw an arm around Logan’s shoulder.

Y/N grabbed her coat, her heart pounding as she followed them out the door. Despite the tension of the moment, a quiet sense of satisfaction bloomed in her chest. This was her secret, her gift to Logan—and seeing him this happy made it all worth it.

XXX

[alpaca-clouds]

An Overview Over the Solarpunk Anthologies

I thought, where I am already here, trying to get everyone to engage with Solarpunk as more than just an aesthetic and pretty flowers, I should give a quick overview over the Solarpunk antholigies, that have been released so far.

Note that so far most releases within the genre are in fact short stories. Though if anyone is interested, I can make a list of the novels I am aware of!

Solarpunk: Ecological and Fantastical Stories in a Sustainable World is pretty much how the genre got its start. The book was originally released in Brazil and only recently had been translated into the English language. It only covers a few stories, but those are a bit longer than your average short story to make up for it.

Sunvault: Stories of Solarpunk and Eco-Speculation has been quoted by many writers in the genre to have been a massive inspiration to them. The stories are very diverse and cover lots of ground.

Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology is probably the weirdest out of this bunch. While all of the other anthologies mostly focus on either SciFi settings or stories set in the here and now, Wings of Renewal mixes Solarpunk with Fantasy elements. At times those stories are SciFi, too, at times they are really mostly fantastical.

Glass and Gardens: Solarpunk Summers explores a wide variety of Solarpunk settings, some hopeful, some less optimistic. It is mostly set in warm and hot scenarios, though those can also vary quite a bit.

Glass and Gardens: Solarpunk Winters then went ahead as a "sequel" of sorts to explore the concept of Solarpunk in colder climates.

Multispecies Cities: Solarpunk Urban Futures has probably to be my favorite one from the anthologies edited by Sarena Udaberri. It explores how humans and animals can live together in Urban settings. And once again, the stories vary from those set in a more futuristic and a more present setting a lot.

Fighting for the Future is the most recent of those anthologies, as it has only released last month. (And yes, this also means: I have not yet read it at all.) It features stories of Cyberpunk and Solarpunk futures - as well as stories where both intertwine!

Bioluminescent: A Lunarpunk Anthology is exactly what it says on the cover. An anthology featuring Lunarpunk stories. So Solarpunk with a bit more mysticism to go with it. And as this also only has released earlier this year I admittedly also have not gotten around to reading it yet.

This does remind me though: Would anyone be interested in me writing mini reviews to the stories in those anthologies?