#I was not me I was an adult woman with blond hair and a ponytail

[jiihu]

너랑 나 — 𝐲𝐮 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧

﹅ summary — meeting jimin at your birthday party your mom threw for you, you found yourself instantly infatuated with the older woman.

﹅ content — age difference (reader is 18, jimin is 27), slight power imbalance, doctor!jimin, slight angst

﹅ word count — 2.6k

﹅ a/n — a little bit of inspiration from call me by your name! jimin is sort of ooc here, but i wanted her to seem more “formal” ^^

you trudged up the stairs, away from "your" party, which consisted of your parent's friends, and not a single one of yours. you let out a relaxed sigh as the bass of the music became less and less noticeable in your chest. pushing open the door to your bedroom, you let your foot close it behind you and fell onto your bed.

"this is not how i expected my 18th birthday to go," you groaned into your pillow, grabbing your phone and turning on your side, fully expecting to spend the rest of your day here and not downstairs. your parents wanted you to make connections with some of the people for your "future", but that was the last thing on your mind today. not only did you not want to spend your evening with tens of middle-aged adults, but you also wanted an escape from reality, without having to think about your future too much. at least for today.

while you were lost in your thoughts, you heard the loud rev of an engine, and you stood up from your place on the bed. leaning over your nightstand, you peered through the blinds and watched as a sleek, matte black sports car pulled into your driveway. you stared intently at the driver's side door as the purr of the engine rattled in your chest, reminding you of the bass faintly vibrating from downstairs.

your fingers were frozen in place as you held the blinds open, watching as a platinum-blonde woman stepped out of the car, running a hand through her hair before tying it in a ponytail. you felt as if you were starstruck, watching her adjust her clothes, before she laughed, removing the stethoscope from around her neck. you were almost in a trance-like state, and although you couldn't hear her laugh, you imagined it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard.

it seemed as if she'd just left her shift at the hospital, still having on the same scrubs and work shoes that nurses wore. once she felt that she was presentable enough, she reached into the backseat and pulled out a light blue gift box with a white bow on top, using her hip to nudge the door closed.

heart pounding, you stumbled backward, the sudden movement causing the blinds to drop back into place. your mind raced, trying to process the unexpected arrival of this captivating woman. who was she? what was she doing here? and most importantly, why did she have a gift for you?

curiosity tangled with apprehension as you peeked through the blinds once more. the woman had begun made her way to the front door, her steps powerful, yet graceful at the same time. with each passing moment, your intrigue grew, overpowering your initial shock.

you debated whether to remain hidden or confront her. the desire to meet her moved you forward, and with a sudden surge of courage, you hurriedly left your room and padded down the stairs. the distant sounds of laughter and conversation from the party came and left as your mind focused in on the enchanting woman at your doorstep.

you reached the front door just in time to see her positioned to knock, her hand hovering in mid-air. it was now or never. swallowing your nervousness, you opened the door, revealing a surprised expression on her face.

"hi," she said, her voice as smooth as silk. "i'm dr. yu. i apologize for my tardiness, but i was told there's a very special girl here having a party for her very special birthday?"

you couldn't help but be captivated by her piercing gaze and the genuine warmth in her smile. "yes, it's my birthday," you replied, feeling a surge of excitement and curiosity at her gift.

dr. yu's eyes sparkled with amusement. "happy birthday!" she exclaimed, holding out the gift box she had been clutching. "i know we haven't met before, but i'm a close friend of your parents. i've heard a lot about you, and i thought it was only right to put a face to the name.”

you became more flustered at her words as you accepted the gift. "thank you," you stammered, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. "that's very kind of you."

dr. yu's smile widened. "it's the least i could do. birthdays should be special, and i wanted to make sure yours didn't go unnoticed."

as you stood there, speaking with dr. yu, a sense of familiarity washed over you. perhaps this encounter was the escape you had longed for, a break from the monotony of your party. a break from the constant concern over your future. you found yourself drawn to her presence, yearning to know more about her.

with a sudden burst of spontaneity, you mustered the courage to invite her inside. "would you like to come in? it's quieter inside, away from the crowd," you offered, hopeful that she would accept.

dr. yu's eyes crinkled with a mixture of surprise and delight. "i'd love to," she replied, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "lead the way."

you shuffled through the crowd, hoping to quietly lead her away from the seemingly ever-growing party to her room. as the stairs were in your line of sight, your dad stepped in front of you.

"y/n! i see you've met jimin." jimin eyes snapped from the back of your head, and looked over to your father.

"she really is a lovely girl. you've raised her well," jimin's dark eyes did a once-over of you, making you feel slightly exposed, while simultaneously making your heart race.

your heart skipped a beat as jimin's gaze lingered on you. the intensity in her eyes sent shivers down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. you tried to maintain your composure, feeling slightly flustered as they both looked at you expectantly.

"thank you," you managed to reply, your voice betraying a hint of unease. it was as if jimin's presence had the power to unravel your carefully constructed facade, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

your father's smile widened, oblivious to the tension between you and jimin. "i'm glad you two met. jimin here is a renowned neurosurgeon at the hospital. she's been a close friend of ours for a long time."

you struggled to find the right words, your mind racing to process the information. jimin, a neurosurgeon? the charming woman who had appeared at your home in an expensive sportscar was not only captivating but also held a respected position in society. the realization only deepened your sudden fondness for the woman.

"i'm honored to meet you, dr. jimin," you said, your voice filled with genuine admiration. "thank you for the birthday gift. it means a lot."

jimin's eyes softened, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. 

"the pleasure is mine," she replied, her voice laced with a subtle undertone of something you couldn't quite decipher.

jimin's words hung in the air, leaving you with a sense of intrigue and curiosity. there was something about her presence that captivated you, a pull that drew you closer. as your father excused himself to attend to other guests, you and jimin stood there, locked in a silent exchange of emotions.

feeling a mix of nervousness and boldness, you gestured for jimin to follow you. leading her through the bustling party, you managed to navigate the sea of people and find your way back to the staircase. the distant sounds of laughter and music gradually faded into the background as you climbed the steps, guided by the dim glow of the hallway lights.

reaching your room, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, inviting jimin to enter. the room brought you back to your senses, making you feel calmer than before, like a sanctuary away from the chaos downstairs. you motioned for jimin to take a seat on your bed while you settled into your desk chair, facing each other.

the atmosphere felt charged with anticipation as you observed jimin. her blonde hair sat on her shoulders, framing her face and accentuating her features. her eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth, and the subtle curve of her lips hinted at a gentle smile.

"dr. yu," you began, breaking the silence, "jimin. i didn't expect my birthday to turn out this way, but i'm glad you decided to come. it feels like a nice break from everything."

jimin's smile widened, her eyes never leaving yours. "life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it? sometimes the most memorable moments come from the unexpected."

you nodded in agreement, a growing sense of warmth bubbling up in your chest. there was a natural ease in the way you conversed as if you had known each other for much longer than a few moments. unlike the rest of your parent's friends, jimin never once made you feel like an unintelligent child in her presence. you felt as if you could talk to her about anything, and she'd never make you feel judged for it.

curiosity burned within you, urging you to learn more about her. "so, jimin, tell me about yourself. how did you become a neurosurgeon?"

a soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she leaned back, her gaze shifting to a distant point as she dove into her story. jimin recounted her journey of dedication, hard work, and passion that led her to pursue medicine. she shared stories of the challenges she faced, the lives she touched, and the fulfillment she found in her profession.

as jimin spoke, you found yourself hanging on to every word, drawn to the obvious passion she had for her career and the empathy that she held through the way she spoke of her patients. her passion for making a difference in people's lives made you feel more attracted to her than before, as you felt a smile spread across your face while she continued.

in turn, you shared your aspirations, dreams, and the uncertainty you held about your future. you talked about your love for the sciences, your yearning for independence and exploration, and the weight of expectations that sometimes felt suffocating. it was as if the barriers you had built around yourself crumbled, allowing you to open up and reveal the deepest depths of your heart and mind. some that you didn't even know existed.

hours seemed to slip away unnoticed as you exchanged stories, laughter, and shared experiences. the conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving a web of connection between the two of you who had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.

eventually, as the night grew late, you both realized that the party downstairs had quieted down. the house was enveloped in peaceful silence, the remnants of laughter and happiness lingering in the air. jimin's gaze met yours, an unspoken question passing between you.

"thank you for spending this time with me," you said softly, breaking the momentary stillness. "tonight was better than anything that could be in that box."

jimin chuckled, her hands reaching behind her to grab the box. she pushed it into your hands expectantly. you looked up at her and she nodded, gesturing for you to open it. you ripped the paper from the box, opening it to see a red leather box with gold letters engraved on the top. "jimin! i can't take this! how much did you spend on this?"

"don't worry about it, birthday girl. this is your special day, and it won't come again, so enjoy it while it lasts,” she smiled warmly, gently lifting the lid as your eyes settled on to a small silver necklace with two interlocked rings on the end. you lifted it from the box, the weight of the metal leading you to believe it was even more expensive than you'd originally imagined.

wordlessly, jimin took the necklace from your hands, leaning over you to clasp it behind your neck. your breath hitched at the proximity, feeling jimin's warm breath hitting your bare skin. her fingers trailed down the necklace, her eyes never leaving yours. your eyes flickered between hers and her lips, your own slightly parted, almost anticipating something.

"happy birthday," she mumbled, before you pressed your lips to hers, her hands eventually coming up to gently hold your waist. you moved back and looked up at her, looking for confirmation, her eyes half-lidded and her gaze almost unreadable. you pulled her back in for another kiss, lacing your arms around her neck, she grunted as you pulled away, pressing your forehead to hers, giggling at the surprised look in her eyes.

she playfully rolled her eyes, her hands trailing down from your waist to your thighs as you drew her in for a sloppy kiss, your gift box hitting the floor with a light thud. she hooked her fingers underneath your thighs, maneuvering you onto her lap as she deepened the kiss, her hands caressing your back.

"jimin? y/n?" you heard your dad call out. jimin jolted from her position on your bed as if she'd been physically hurt, forcing you to push yourself from her lap and onto the bedsheets behind you.

"y/n, i'm so sorry. shit," she mumbled, running a hand through her hair, the same way she did when she was standing by her car. two complete scenarios, yet you still feel the same rush you did the first time.

"don't apologize, jimin. you didn't do anything. i wanted this." she shook her head, picking up the discarded box from the floor, and letting out a deep sigh.

"y/n, i'm just," she ran her fingers through her hair once more. "this isn't right. not only are you my colleague's daughter, but you're nearly ten years my junior. jesus christ..." she trailed off as the realization hit her, her teeth starting to chew on her lip.

"jimin, i promise you didn't do anything wrong! i mean, i initiated it, and i'm eighteen!"

"yeah, barely!" she let out a huff, tucking the box under her arm. "i'm sorry for raising my voice, y/n. please understand where i'm coming from." she gave you one last look, like a puppy in a kennel before leaving your room. you stared at the space where she once was, feeling as if you were about to throw up. you couldn’t decipher if it was from the adrenaline from her kiss, or the feeling that you’d never meet someone else like her again. just as she'd come, like an angel in disguise, she left, leaving an empty feeling in your chest.

you heard the front door open and close moments later, and you moved into the same position you'd been in earlier when you watched her arrive. she looked up at you and gave you a small smile, waving her hand in your direction. you held your hand up between the blinds as an act of acknowledgment, as if your heart wasn't being shattered as you watched her walk away.

she started up the car, the roar of the engine feeling almost familiar to you at this point, and wasted no time before pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the street. you heard the door creak open and turned around to see your dad standing in the doorframe, a warm and comforting smile adorned on his face. "you like jimin's car too, huh? it caught everyone's attention tonight. i almost thought a lion was in our driveway," he joked, and you could barely find it in yourself to muster up a smile.

"yeah, i like her car."

#fem reader #yu jimin x reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #karina imagines #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg imagines #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #⸻ writes! 📄

[herbgerblin]

Image Description is under the cut because it is very long sorry.

"I will have normal feelings about this show," said by me, a liar.

ID: A collection of doodles of characters from the cartoon, The Owl House. In the first image from left to right is Eda, a middle-aged, witch woman with long, grey hair, pale skin, and a slight frame. She is grinning with one hand on her hip. The top middle is doodles of young adult Eda and Raine, a nonbinary witch with light green hair, glasses, and an earring. They are both smiling. The top right is of Eda wearing a bold, red pantsuit, over a dark red v-neck top, and matching boots. Her jacket has long, jagged coattails. The bottom left is of Eda tiredly sipping out of a mug, the text on it reads, "Don't talk to me until I've eaten this mug." Behind her, Luz, a human girl with brown skin and dark brown hair, King, a small demon, and Hooty, a bird worm. The trio is giving Eda big pleading eyes like they are begging her for something.

Top left of the second image is of Willow, a teen witch girl with pale skin, dark hair in ponytails, and a chubby build. She is flexing her arm muscles impressively. The top middle is a doodle of Hunter, a teen witch boy with fair skin and wavy, blonde hair. He looks somewhat pensive. Middle right is of hunter again, he is resting his arms on his knees and looking very annoyed. On top of his head, Flapjack, a little red cardinal pallisman is using his head as a nest to sleep in. The bottom left is of Lilith, a witch woman with pale skin and long, black hair. Hooty is curled around her. In the bottom middle is another doodle of Lilith, now wearing glasses. Bottom right is a doodle of Hunter, King, and Gus--another witch boy with brown skin and curly hair. They are inside of a cardboard box labeled, "Son Boy Box."

In the third image, on the left, is a doodle of Luz and Amity, a teen witch girl with pale skin, lavender hair, and a slight build. Luz is giving amity a kiss on the cheek, causing the latter to blush bright red. On the right, Luz is smiling mischievously, while wearing a green t-shirt that says, "I defeated Belos and all I got was this t-shirt." In the Bottom right is a far less detailed doodle of op standing in front of a laptop and point at it, while yelling "Sapphic behavior!" The caption above the doodle reads, "Me watching S1 and S2 in real time." End ID

#eda is so floof to draw #boy that owl sure can house lmao <- has watched S1 + S2 twice already #waiting until 2023 for S3 >:( and Disney forcing it to be squished >>:(( #the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #eda clawthorne #luz noceda #amity blight #hunter the golden guard #willow park #gus porter #hooty #raine whispers

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Eight Seconds

[Not quite an author’s note, but more so a confession: I went line dancing the other night… I wish it went like this 😮‍💨 This do be self-indulgent PWP below the cut :) ]

__________

“I feel like an absolute schmuck. I look like an absolute schmuck. Cowboy hats aren’t meant to be worn this far west, it’s just not a good look,” Danny laments aloud, then catches his girlfriend’s eyes narrowed at his comment and quickly amends, “Except you, my dear, look absolutely adorable in yours.”

“That’s because you’ve got Jersey written all over your ugly mug,” his best friend ever so kindly informs him before taking a pull from his second beer of the night. “Gimme that.”

Steve takes the felt hat off of the blonde’s head and dons it himself instead, adjusting the brim low enough to hide the way his gaze is fixed on one young woman twirling around the dancefloor.

You throw your head back with a laugh as your current partner in the circle dance spins you to the next, and you take your new partner’s hand without missing a beat. Steve is absolutely mesmerized by the way you move so effortlessly, gliding between the complicated steps without a care in the world, your ponytail swinging in the same rhythm as your tempting hips.

“Hey,” Melissa yells to be heard over the pounding bass of the country song, nudging Steve hard enough to break him out of his trance. He turns to her and she lifts the brim of the hat before challenging, “Why don’t you get in there instead of ogling her all night, Commander?”

He’s grateful the flashing lights turn red at that moment to accompany the song change and graciously hide the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Am I being that obvious?”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t put out a restraining order yet,” Danny’s quick to jibe. “Although I guess you’re meeting the requisite fifty feet.”

“You’re a riot,” the brunette grumbles under his breath before downing the rest of his beer. He twists around to place the empty bottle on the table, then turns back to find his view of the dancefloor blocked by a pair of jean shorts and a crop top sporting the skeletal head of a bull, if he’s not mistaken.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” your sweet voice settles over him like the Hawaii sunshine after a cool morning swim, “but y’all came out on a line dancing night and have yet to get to dancing.” A finger tips the brim of his hat even further up, and Steve comes face to face with the vision he’s been silently pining after all evening. He opens his mouth to answer, but finds himself speechless for quite possibly the first time in his adult life.

Thankfully, you fill the silence by chatting with Melissa, letting Steve bask in the touch of warm southern drawl woven around your words, and a different kind of heat floods his face this time thinking about what that sweet accent would sound like calling out his name tonight. He zones out while you prattle on, indulging in his decidedly not-safe-for-work fantasy and appreciating the way the cuff of your shorts sits snugly on your thick thighs just below the curve of your ass. Of all the things he’s been jealous of touching you tonight, denim takes the crown for being the most absurd.

“Commander Cupid,” Danny barks, roughly swatting at Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. “She’s talking to you, you putz.”

He clears his throat before turning his focus to you with an apologetic smile. “Got lost in my thoughts there,” he says by way of an explanation, and the twinkle of mirth in your eyes tells him you have a pretty good idea of just what those thoughts entailed.

“I asked if you wanted to come dance or just sit here watching me all night,” you repeat, one eyebrow cocked playfully.

“Oh, I, uh-” He knows he’s caught, and he lets out a soft laugh while shaking his head. “Totally busted, huh?”

“Tell you what,” you declare confidently, letting your hair fall loose from its elastic confine before palming the felt hat and settling it snugly on your head with a smirk. “I’ll make the decision for you.”

You start your journey back to the dance floor, clapping along to the kick drum announcing the beginning of that one Luke Bryan song that everybody always seems to know. You throw a wink over your shoulder and Steve stands to join you, pausing mid-step when Melissa hollers his name. He turns back to find an elated grin on her face, and she calls out, “Do you know the rule?”

Steve raises one eyebrow and shakes his head, curious.

“If you wear the hat…”

__________

“...you ride the cowboy,” you exclaim breathlessly in the back of Steve’s Silverado, your thighs burning from exertion. “Never heard that one before?”

“Nu uh,” the brunette answers rather unintelligently, the second syllable morphing into a groan when you roll your hips against his, somehow slotting his length even deeper in your heat. His hands find your love handles of their own volition, kneading the soft, warm skin there while you mouth hungrily at the sharp planes of his stubbled jaw.

He plants his feet on the floor of his truck before using his bruising grip as leverage to buck up into you, your hips kissing with every thrust as his lips find yours once more. You moan into his awaiting mouth, every coherent thought in your head disappearing, replaced by a mantra of your devilish lover’s name.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve rumbles out his praise. “Take everything I give you like a good girl.”

“Fuck yes,” you cry out, your head falling back and giving him the opportunity to run his nose down your exposed throat, a light scraping of teeth following in its wake. “Bite me,” you plead, and he’s quick to obey, sinking his teeth into the dip where your neck and shoulder meet.

Your walls tighten around his cock at the pleasurable tinge of pain, forcing Steve to let out an involuntary whimper against your skin. You pull back with a gasp, cupping his cheeks between your two smaller hands and feeling his face grow hot beneath your fingertips. “Oh my god,” you manage to get out between incessant pants every time your hips meet. “Do that again.”

“You like th-” The incredulous question dies on his lips, cut off by another soft whimper when you intentionally flex your muscles around him.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a man’s mouth,” you declare, excited by the new discovery. “Don’t you hold back on me now.”

He doesn’t.

Spurred on by your praise and just how fucking hot it is for someone else to order him around for once, Steve allows himself to be vocal, all manner of delicious sounds escaping his kiss-bitten lips while you ride him for everything he’s worth.

“That’s it, baby,” you echo his words from earlier with a positively dangerous grin. “Take everything I give you like a good boy.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his cock twitching in response to your overt display of dominance. This is new for him, too, and he decides at that moment that he’s going to have to explore this side of himself more often.

“What is it, Steve?” you ask, your taunt coated by your honey-sweetened accent. “You need to cum? Need to fill this little pussy up?” An unintelligible noise works its way up from low in his throat, and he stares up at you, dumbstruck. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Steve nods desperately, not trusting his voice to form a response in a coherent manner.

“Oh, sweet boy,” you coo, carding your fingers through his hair, slowing down the torturous twisting of your hips, your other hand teasing your clit. He holds your thighs in a vice grip, his own quaking beneath your body in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm. Then you tuck one finger under his chin and lift his gaze to yours, and the single syllable you utter shatters the last of his resolve. “Beg.”

Hot ropes of cum paint your walls as Steve lets out a debauched groan, his head falling back against the seat of the truck while you apply steady pressure to your clit, letting yourself crest over the edge moments after him.

You give Steve some time to recover, pressing gentle kisses to his sweaty skin and running your nails along his scalp until the heaving of his chest gives way to steadier breathing. “You okay, baby?”

“That-” He stops, shaking his head and opting to capture your lips in a tender kiss instead of voicing his feelings.

“I figured after the week you had, fighting with the FBI over jurisdiction on your case, you might like to give up control,” you offer by way of explanation, sinking further into his lap to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, you could say that,” your boyfriend laughs, in awe of your uncanny ability to read him so easily. His fingers trail up and down your spine and you settle into his warmth with a content sigh before cheekily adding, “Didn’t think you’d like it that much, though.”

A laugh rumbles out of him again and he admits, “I knew you were a switch, but I didn’t think I was, too.”

“Surprise,” you respond, and he feels your lips turn upward in a smile against his skin. “And here you and Danny were being resistant to line dancing. I told y’all it’s fun, didn’t I?”

He hums in agreement, then adds with a self-satisfied lilt to his voice, “Kind of you to save a horse tonight, sweetheart.”

You snort in response, clambering out of his lap to fix your clothes for the ride home. Finding the discarded cowboy hat in the truck’s passenger seat, you return it to its rightful spot on your boyfriend’s head. “I’ll turn you into a country boy, yet, Steve.”

__________

[A/N (for realsies): Don’t ask where this came from, tbh I blame WhimperTok for r u i n i n g me. And I just know this big, tough man is secretly a lil slut who wants to be Commander outside the bedroom but Commanded™️ in the bedroom, u feel me? I may have to explore this more 👀]

#steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett fanfiction #steve mcgarrett smut #steve mcgarrett imagine #steve mcgarrett x reader #steve mcgarrett x y/n #steve mcgarrett x you #steve mcgarrett x female reader #hawaii five 0 #hawaii five 0 imagine #hawaii five o #hawaii five o imagine #hawaii 5 0 #mostly pwp #smut

[crack-art-n-stuff]

Ch. 1 - Illusion of Excellence

Kurogami University, an elite institution nestled within the heart of Japan, exuded an aura of prestige and grandeur. Its meticulously landscaped gardens, adorned with vibrant cherry blossoms and modern architecture, painted a picture of academic brilliance and success. For you, a young and ambitious student, this was a dream come true.Usually, only those of privilege were the ones who even had a chance of tasting the possibility. 

You weren’t much different in that aspect. One of your aunts was a bank CEO. She made a generous donation to help get you in, along with your decent grades and recommendations.

As you stepped foot onto the campus grounds, you could feel  the excitement in your veins. Tales of Kurogami’s excellence had reached far and wide and were not lost on you. From its distinguished faculty, diverse educational programs, to their endless opportunities. To you, attending this prestigious university meant a chance to escape your more humble background and begin to make your mark on your desired industry.

First things first, you need to drop your stuff off at your dorm. Like most people, you tried to keep your luggage to one or two bags, as extra personnel were prohibited from entering campus grounds without prior authorization. Besides, there were several stores and markets within a short distance from the campus. So, it wouldn’t have been too inconvenient to make new purchases for your needs. 

As you carried your duffle bag across the courtyard, you noticed some of the uniformed figures with blue arm bands, seemingly directioning people. One of them must know where your dorm was. What was it again? Oh yeah! That one.

Approaching someone, you waved your hands towards them. “Excuse me, I’m looking for-”

They interrupted you without hesitation after giving you a quick glance up and down, “Freshmen are supposed to head to the main auditorium for assignments. Please follow the signs.”

“Huh? But I already know my-”

“Please follow the sign to the main auditorium for freshmen assignments”, they repeated, projecting their voice more. You could tell they were trying to tell any freshmen in the vicinity, but it felt like they were just yelling in your face.

Looking towards the similarly dressed figures, you saw their actions mirrored the one in front of you. With a sigh, you looked around and followed the cutely decorated signs. It had cute origami flowers and butterflies lining it, accented with painted petals along the writing. 

Following along, you started feeling the weight of your baggage weighing on your shoulder. You take a minute to drop your bag and massage your shoulder. Why did the hallway feel so endlessly? How did you fail to realize how large the facilities actually were?

Finally, you heard the loud chattering of young adults. You hurried along, worried about missing anything. Your also casually dressed peers didn’t hide their status, even in mundane outfits. You saw name brand shoes, suitcases, a noticeable shine from jewelry. Should you have done the same? You assumed you would get your uniforms early on and didn’t particularly care about your outfit’s first impression. 

Others didn’t seem to pay much mind at the moment, so busy conversing among themselves while others were also busy trying to catch their breaths. Making your way into the room, the doors quickly closed behind you. The shudders fell on the upper windows and a spotlight shone on a woman.

She was pristinely dressed, a white hidden-button down shirt, deep navy pleated pants, finished off with a match navy blazer that hung on her shoulders. Her wavy blonde hair was tied in a lazy low ponytail she let rest on her shoulder. From your place at the far door, it was a bit difficult to see everything clearly, even if you had 20/20 vision. Moving across the stage from the far left, she was followed by the light to the podium, clearing her throat in the mic.

“Good afternoon, freshmen”, all you could hear was her trained professionalism, “I’m going to keep this short since I’m sure you’d all like to rest and get used to your surroundings. You are not here for your dorm assignments.”

You could already hear a few soft groans from those that wished to rest immediately but you heard her give an amused hum as a response before continuing.

“You are here for your rank assignments.”

Huh? Ranks?

“You have been sorted in different dorms based on your chosen majors. Heartavica for fine and liberal arts. Spadela for mathematics and sciences. Clovire for athletics and manual trades. And Diamonganto for business and law. Should you choose to change majors, you will be moved into the proper dorm building. However…”

Her amused tone morphed into something dark and more sadistic. Even if you didn’t make eye contact with her, you felt her eyes send a chill up your spine. 

“You are permitted to change majors only twice. And only in your first two years here. After that, all major changes will not be accepted.”

“Seriously?”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh? I’m still a freshman.”

“But isn’t the payoff kind of worth it?”

You couldn’t help but agree with some of them. You were already starting college. What’s with the extra pressure? Though, could you say you’re that surprised? While applying, you couldn’t apply as undecided. You just went with what you felt like you could do best and make money. You just hoped you made the right decision.

The woman leaned forwards, “However, rest assured that we will provide the resources you require to succeed. Now then…”

You will be ranked based on a card deck. Ranks are Aces, Faces, and Numbers. As you leave, you will receive your school provided phone.Log in to your school, register it as yours. The same setup as always. You will receive your rank and dorm number in an email. Any questions can be asked to your dorm heads or a faculty member.”

You’re all dismissed. Get comfortable and rest well.” Then she turned to leave, back the way she came. The shades rolled up the windows. 

That was…quite the first introduction.

You expected the university to be a bit strange, due to some rumors. But you wanted to dismiss them for being just conjecture and idle gossip. 

Taking a deep breath, you turned around when you heard the doors open. You were one of, if not the, first to get your phone. While you were still processing the sudden info drop, you still felt both nervousness and excitement surge through you as you logged in and registered.

You didn’t entirely understand yet, but you could sense the weight of the rank system before officially knowing your own part in it.

You took some deep breaths before tightening your grip on your phone. No. You had to calm down. If you could put off knowing for a little longer, you might’ve. But you had to look now to know your dorm. After looking at the email, you saw your dorm and rank were-

.

.

.

.

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Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. There. I took twisted wonderland inspiration, mixed in some Classroom of the Elite and Kakegurui, yeet it in the oven, set the kitchen on fire, and this is whatever was left over after the fire department left.

I don’t know, man. I’m kind of proud of how it turned out, but I don’t have any real confidence in it. I’m open to any constructive criticism or feedback.

#yandere #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere female #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #x y/n #x you

[siempregavi30]

Maestra P.G. pt. 1

Warnings: None for now :)

Barcelona, one of Spains most popular cities, home to one of the most successful Football clubs known to mankind and with the prettiest beach, is also the home of the eighteen year-old perspective nursery teacher, Aerin Harding, who has yet to accommodate to her life in Spain, since she is only there for a one-year internship, before having to go back to Austria, where she was born and raised all her life.

In Barcelona she had to start from zero, all her friends had chosen Italy, Sweden, Ireland or America for their internships, but Aerins heart had always beaten for Spain. Yes, even in Austria the love for FC Barcelona is widely spread, and Aerins father was no exception. She grew up with football games, having a Messi-obsessed father meant watching games and re-caps almost ever two to three nights, and though she hated it at first (mostly because her father was obviously loving the Argentinian Player more than his own offspring) but over time, MSN had the little girl under their spell as well. Watching “Neymar JR skills and goals, 2015/2016” or “Lionel Messi best moments” had become a routine for the girl, there was not a single unwatched video. Not a single match she missed. Not a single time she didn´t sing “Cant del Barca” along whenever she heard it on TV. So when the time came to choose a city for an internship, the girl didn´t hesitate to choose Barcelona.                                                                                                                              And that´s exactly where she is now.                                                         “Emilia! You know we don´t climb on the fence, you could hurt yourself,” the brunette young adult educates the small, blonde five-year-old, who only responds with a shy nod, before taking off to join her friends on the swings.

Suddenly the Headteacher approaches Aerin, whose hands immediately start sweating, her anxiety running a hundred miles per hour, brain coming up with countless of possibilities and scenarios with situations that could equal the girl being in trouble, worse, maybe even kicked out from her nursery, even though she´s sure she hasn´t done anything wrong.

“Aerin, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Of course, Miss Evans!” She puts a bright smile on her face, allows her green eyes to sparkle with happiness, desperately trying to mask the cold shiver that runs down her spine.

“Tomorrow we´ll have a child join us, whose rather special. He´s very shy and doesn´t allow many people near him or see through him. He´s just moved here from Los Angeles and like you, doesn´t speak any Spanish, so you´ll have one thing in common,” the older woman cracks a joke, and Aerin almost sighs with relief, but plays it off with a small giggle.

Miss Evans quickly brushes the palms of her hands over her black pencil skirt, while clearing her throat, “What I´m trying to tell you is, don´t let that effect you. It´s possible that he will be cold to you, express his distaste, or maybe ignore every attempt of contact, but he will be like that to everyone. It´s just that this can be very frustrating for trainees, especially one as perfectionistic as you.”

The brunette girl takes in the information provided by the Headteacher, going through the explanation of possible behavior in her head once again. “Thank you for letting me know, Miss Evans,” she finally responds with a curt nod, and the Headteacher ushers back to her office, hoping she didn´t miss any important calls during her absence.

“Are you nervous now?”, the voice of a girl causes her to spin around. Strawberry blonde hair is pulled up into a neat ponytail, the tips of them curled, a white bow wrapped around it securely, while blue eyes stare curiously at her. “No, I don´t think so. Maybe a little intimidated,” Aerin answers her friend, Elise, a trainee from Dublin. Elise giggles, showing off her prominent dimples and pearly white teeth, “By a child?”

“A child with special behavior.”

“That´s Aerin to you,” a third person chimes in, and it´s none other than Eden, the only person in their little trio, who was actually born and raised in Spain, but not in Barcelona. Eden is from Cadiz, but just like Aerin, is a big fan of the local football club and wanted to live there, because it meant she could attend games more often. Eden had short, blonde hair with frizzy curls, brown hair and a face adorned with freckles. Aerin only shrugs at her friends, before lifting up her wrist to look at her watch. “I´m done for today,” she tells her friends, who still have four more hours to go, with an apologetic smile.

“Lucky you!”, Elise huffs, before turning her attention to the small boy who was tugging at her sweater to gain her attention. “Girls night at my place on Friday, are you still in?”, Eden asks, crossing her arms, and Aerin nods. “Of course. God knows I need it.” Her friends giggle at her statement, and Aerin quickly makes her way into the building to collect her stuff to leave.

Finally in the secluded and comforting confinement of her car, she leans her head back and sighs deeply. School has become stressful, and even though she is on an internship abroad, she still has homework to do and online exams to take, which was becoming more and more unbearable and unnecessarily hard over the past month. In addition, homesickness has been sneaking itself into her subconsciousness, FaceTimes with her eleven-year-old brother were keeping her from bursting into a fit of tears and sobs every night, and the comforting words of her mother kept giving her strength. Her fathers jokes would lift up her mood too, but not when she was in the middle of a rant and he joked about her struggles.

Even though he is fourty-five years old, he still has to learn when it is appropriate to joke around, or what a joke should include.

Spoiler Alert: It shouldn´t be your childs struggles, but Aerin doesn´t have the heart to tell him, because even though it´s annoying at times, it brings her some sort of calmness and relief, a sign to not take life as seriously and try to enjoy things from time to time.

At home, she swiftly moved into her kitchen after changing into her pajamas, because in the car on her way to her small one-bedroom Apartment, she decided that it is the perfect day for her comfort food, pasta, but the way her mother always cooks it, along with the special sauce. While rummaging through her cabinets, searching for all the necessary ingredients, her phone rings, and without sparing the screen a glance, she accepts the call, expecting it to be her mother or younger sibling, but is instead met with the voice of Talia, her childhood best friend.

“Girl, you have no idea what happened!” Aerin jumps at the exclamation, for a moment not knowing who is on the other end of the call, before she sighs. “I don´t so please, enlighten me.” “Remember the guy I was telling you about like, last week?”

“Justin?”

“What? No, the other one.”

“Sebastian.”

“Are you still stuck in the past? Why are you talking about guys from three months ago? Do you remember Lucas´ friend, the tall guy with juicy lips and a buzzcut?” Aerin scratches her head, thinking about the description, “You mean Andy?”

“No, that´s Destiny´s cousin, he´s so weird now. Big glow down after me, as expected. I´m talking about Ryan,” Talia exclaims from the other end of the phone, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and Aerin can almost picture the smirk on her face. “Ah, I remember now.” Aerin has no idea who her friend is talking about, but Talia doesn´t need to know that.

“Yeah, anyways he asked me on a date,” the curly haired brunette snickers devilishly, and something in Aerins chest squeezes at the familiar sound, the homesickness is almost unbearable and the need to hug Talia is prominent. “That´s great, T! Did you say yes?” Talia bursts out into a fit of laughter, the sound of skin slapping, probably Talia smacking her thigh to emphasize the fact that she finds Aerins statement to be hilarious, can be heard and the green-eyed girl only huffs, while her eyes dart between two packs of pasta, unsure if she wants the ones that look like bows or spirals. “Hell no, he´s ugly. Are you saying I should date ugly guys, because I´m ugly?” Spirals it is then, and additional to the homesickness, she´s about to get a headache.

“Of course not Talia. I don´t even know that Ryan looks like, but if he´s ugly I´m glad you said no,” she sweettalks her way out of misery and hears her friend hum in approval. “So, what have you been up to lately? You haven´t been texting me as much,” Talia asks, and Aerin places the pot filled with water onto her stove. “The usual. School´s been stressing me out lately,” she admits to her friend, the only person she can really talk with when it comes to school.

Aerin fears that if she talks about this with her parents, they´ll just worry too much and worrying parents most of the times add more stress, rather than take it away.

“Exams and stuff?”

“Yup,” she answers, popping the P. Talia groans from the opposite side of the call, “Bro, you´re in Spain, shouldn´t you be partying hard every night? Salsa, fiesta, siesta or whatever, you know? Like, get some guy to teach you Bachata or something!” Aerin chuckles, the typical Talia-Type-Answer is exactly what she needs, she realizes. “I wish, but sadly that´s not possible. Also, the handful of friends I have here hates partying,” she explains her friend, while pulling her brown hair into a messy bun. “At this point you need me to move there so you can enjoy life. How come you didn´t already die of boredom?” Having Talia move to Barcelona would truly be a blessing to Aerin, because she has never been this far apart from her best friend, has never not seen her for months straight.

“I wish you could move here, T. I miss you,” Aerin mumbles into the air, her phone is placed on the counter. Talia sighs, “Trust me Rin. I miss you too. Austria is basically dead without you.” “You still pull dates, though.” Both girls share a moment of laughter, but the pain and desperation can be heard from both sides, the laughter is anything but sincere. The water in the pot begins to bubble, signaling that it´s finally ready for Aerin to cook her pasta. “Hey T, I´m a bit busy with cooking right now, how about we FaceTime later?” “Sure thing girl! Just call me, you know I´m never busy,” Aerin can see the wink Talia throws at the phone in her head, and giggles, before bidding her friend goodbye and ending the call.

After getting the pasta ready, she sits down at the table, that harbors four chairs in her living-room, while scrolling through social-media, liking some of the posts of her friends that share their favorite moments in random picture-dumps. One of Aerins closest friends, Ella, posted pictures of herself attending different fashion shows in Milano, and some random pictures of cats and Italys street-food. For a few seconds, her thumb hovers over the empty heart-button. Something in her just doesn´t want to like the dump. Something in her is upset at the fact that all of her classmates seem to be enjoying their time away from their families, out living their best lives while still managing school as if it´s nothing, able to attend fashion shows or eat out at lavish restaurants. Meanwhile Aerin is once again, at the verge of a big mental breakdown. Homesickness, fear of failing school and just the language barrier in Spain. Everything always adds up and up, until one day the bubble of anxiety pops.

Aerin pauses to take a deep breath, the familiar scent of the comfort-meal in front of her, though only for a short moment, gives her the feeling of being at home again, surrounded by her family in the small Austrian Town, where everyone knows each other. The girl shakes her head, coming back to reality and presses the empty heart, turning it a soft red, before she continued swiping up her screen, revealing other posts and reels.

The next day, Aerin is up early to choose the perfect outfit. Kids love colors, boys especially love bright, loud and energetic colors and she wants to make a good impression on the, allegedly, cold little boy, so she decides it´s the perfect opportunity to pull out an orange blazer to pair it with jeans and a white blouse. She hates that blazer, the whole outfit in general, because it makes her look like she has her life under control, even though she´s far away from it, but it´s not the time to mope and cry about the unfairness of her life and the way she´s living it. Aerin has her mind set on that little boy. She wants him to like her, she needs an achievement that can prove that she´s capable of this, capable for this job, capable for this city, capable to get a degree in two and a half years. Colorful bracelets are wrapped around her left wrist, she doesn´t like bracelets on the hand she writes with, and decent rings adorn her fingers, showcasing her milky-pink nails. With one last glance at the mirror on the wall of her small hallway, she exits the warm comfort of her house and enters the spring-air of Barcelona, which she can only enjoy for a few seconds before she climbs into her car. It´s a nice little VW Polo in white, a gift from her beloved Nana. Her head begins to throb at the intense scent of the little Scent-Tree and she immediately opens the windows of her car.

The kids in the English-Speaking nursery eye Aerin with bright eyes. It´s not like she arrives dressed in black every day, but usually her outfits include more neutral colors like cream, sage green, white, a light yellow etc. “Cute fit you got there Rin!”, Elise compliments immediately, clasping her hands together while smiling brightly. “Thank you!”, Aerin salutes her friend, greets all children, and slips into the confinement of her little playroom at the end of the hall. She immediately moves to her desk and organizes everything to make it look as perfect and as professional as it can get, incase the parents walk in to introduce themselves. She straightens her blouse, brushes out some curls with the tips of her fingers and looks through her plan for the day, since she had forgotten to do it the night before.

A sudden knock disturbs the silence of the empty playroom. The Headteacher, Miss Evans, opens the door and peeks inside, before she announces, “You have a guest, Miss Harding.” Aerins jaw tightens, her palms turn sweaty and she forgets every single word in English, her brain throws German words around like it´s a pillow-fight. A deep breath in. 1,2,3. She breathes out, unclenching her jaw and forcing her lips to form a smile, as she points at the two chairs in front of her desk, non-verbally asking the guests to come in. A young woman walks in, looking barely older than Aerin herself, her blonde hair is pulled into a low bun, her plump, red-painted lips display a smile and she´s wearing office-clothing, meaning a gray pencil skirt, a white blouse and a gray blazer with black kitten heeled-shoes. Aerins eyes move to the little boy, who´s holding on to his mothers hand, his hair the exact same blonde, a small button nose, pouty lips and big brown eyes. She quickly stands up from her chair and holds her hand out for the woman to take. “Aerin Harding, very nice to meet you Miss…?”, her voice trails off at the end, expecting the woman to talk.

“Páez! Sofia Páez, and this is Manuel Pablo Páez. It´s very nice to meet you too Miss Harding,” she introduces herself and her little son. Aerin smiles softly, for some weird reason the mother´s nervousness takes away some of her own. She crouches down to the height of the young boy and extends her hand, “Hello Manuel.” Instead of giving her his own little head, the boy hides behind his mothers legs, while still glancing at the trainee from time to time. Aerin licks her lips from frustration.

It´s okay. Kids are shy. This is normal. This means nothing.

“Okay, maybe next time,” she smiles at the mother of the boy, before motioning her to take a seat at one of the chairs, as she gets comfortable on her own chair. “Miss Páez, I´ve been told that little Manuel here will be staying in my playroom, which means I´ll be his main nursery teacher. Are there any allergies or other important things I need to look out for?”, the eighteen-year-old asks, while pulling out a notebook and a pen, proud at the fact that she didn´t stutter.

“He has a peanut allergy.”

Of course has.

“And he really loves carrots.”

Of course he loves carrots.

Aerin writes the information down into her notebook, unaware of the fact that she´s poking out her tongue through her lips, a sign of concentration. She hears the blonde woman giggle for a second and looks up with a curious glance. “My cousin, Pablo, does that as well,” she explains, and Aerin forces herself to smile, while cocking an eyebrow up. “I´m sorry, what exactly does he do as well?” “Stick his tongue out when he´s concentrated.” “Ah, I do that?”, Aerin softly chuckles, “I´ve never noticed.” Suddenly a new burst of curiosity sparks through Aerin, as she asks the woman in front of her, “Pablo, you named your son after your cousin. Are you guys close?” A soft blush coats the tips of Sofias ears, a fond, sincere smile spreads on her face, “Yes. I´ve basically raised him, along with his older sister Aurora. In our family he´s…kind of a star. I thought that maybe naming Manuel after him could give him some luck. Even an ounce of Pablos luck on Manuel would be enough.” Aerin nods, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers. “Well then, I hope I can contribute to a successful future!”, her tone signals the young mother that their conversation is coming to an end. “I have no doubt you will,” the woman expresses her thoughts, and a burst of pride courses through the young adults chest.

She accompanies Sofia to the door, allowing all the other children in her playroom to enter. “Miss Harding, can I just say something before I leave?” Aerins eyes dart to the four-year-old boy, who´s looking at the other kids, before she nods. Sofia sighs, “Manuel can be very difficult to get along with. In America, I took him to special teachers, but he would refuse to talk to any of them. He wouldn´t play, eat or say anything the entire time he was there. It would mean the world to me if you could look out for him. He´s…an easy target.” The brunette girl places a comforting hand on the shoulder of the blonde, “Don´t worry Miss Páez. Manuel is safe here.” A deep breath exits Sofias nose, as if she´s been holding onto it during her entire visit. She thanks Aerin and quickly presses kisses on Manuels cheeks before exiting the Nursery. Aerin closes the door to her playroom, pleased by the atmosphere inside. All kids are busy with playing, drawing or looking through books. All, except one.

Manuel.

Aerin sighs. “Manuel, don´t you want to play with the other kids?”, she asks, placing her hands on her lap while leaning down near his height. He looks like someone she knows, Aerin realizes, but she can´t pinpoint who. He has big brown eyes and frowns often. Manuel doesn´t respond to the trainees question, only stares at the ground. “Do you want me to show you around the playroom?” Comfort is key, especially for little kids. Only in an environment where they feel comfortable and safe, they will allow themselves to open up, like a flower blooming in spring. But to get comfortable in a new environment, you have to get to know it first. The blonde boy only fists the hem of his sweater, eyes still trained on the ground and for a moment Aerin fears she spoke German instead of English and confused the boy.

“Aerinnnnn!”, a young girl jumps towards the girl, holding a book in her direction to show her the cover. “Can you read this to me? Please?” Aerin adverts her eyes from Manuel, a wide smile spreading on her face, “Of course Clara. Go sit down on the couch, I´ll join you in a moment.” The girl giggles excitedly and jumps towards the book-corner of the playroom, that has a pink-blue child-sized couch perched against the wall. “Would you like to join us?”, she tries once again with the stubborn little boy, who once again, doesn´t respond. Aerin lets out a defeated sigh, before she takes off her blazer to place it on her chair to join Clara.                                

“It´s very nice of you to visit me, Pablo!”, Sofia smiles at her cousin, who is none other than FC Barcelonas golden boy, Gavi. Gavi places the Take-Out he bought for his cousin on her desk in her office, a small grin spreads on his face. “It´s good to have you back Sof. Expect me here more often.”

“It´s good to be back. You don´t know how much I´ve missed Spain,” the blonde woman sighs, taking the contents of the bag out to see what her precious cousin bought her. “Where´s Manuel? It´s been a while since I´ve last seen him,” the youngster lets himself fall on the expensive chair opposite of his cousin, crossing his ankles in the process. “Ah, he´s probably at home by now, with Diego. Today was his first day in nursery school,” she excitedly tells Pablo, who softly smiles. “His nursery teacher is very nice. Her name is Aerin, she´s a trainee from Austria, but she seems very professional. I think she´s your age,” Sofia continues, while staring at her Burrito with hearty eyes. “Sounds like a real gem,” Gavi answers, though he believes that he couldn´t care any less about his great-cousins teachers, or personal information about them.

“Oh Pablo, before I forget; next week on Friday I have a meeting with my boss and Diego is in Valencia for business. Could you please be so nice and pick Manuel up from school on that day? I have no one else at the moment,” Sofia pleads, frowning at her cousin. “At what time?” He really doesn´t want to. Sofia sighs from relief, “You have until five. I´d pick him up from your place at seven, if that´s okay?”

It´s not, but it´s only been about two weeks since Sofia returned back to Barcelona after living in Los Angeles for almost three years, so he couldn´t really say no to her. “It´s fine. Ana wanted to come over, she´s missed him al lot, so I´ll just let her handle it,” he explains his cousin, who excitedly claps her hands. “You´re the best Pablito!” Gavi can´t hear that sentence anymore. He lost count on how many times he´s heard it in the past week in total. He loves the attention and recognition he´s getting, especially the special treatment he´s been receiving the last few months have been nothing but pure bliss to his youthful ego, though sometimes he fears all the fame has gotten too much to his head. It ´s just that compliments have stopped affecting the eighteen-year-old, all he hears all day is praise.

“Bravo Gavi, you´re insane!”

“Gavi is ESPNs´ number five of the best youngsters!”

“Spains youngest world-cup goal scorer: Gavi!”

He doesn´t dare think about the edits on Instagram or TikTok, or the way he has started to purposefully lift his jerseys during games, sometimes even taking them off completely, while being painfully aware of the effect this has on most of his viewers. Who can blame him, though? He´s eighteen and has girls his age, some older, some younger, wrapped around his finger, while some of his friends struggle to come out of the talking-stage, most of their attempts even getting rejected. Gavi doesn´t even have to try to get someone to like him, they just do. His eyes land on the picture of Manuel, perched on Sofias desk and Gavi almost frowns at the facial expression of the little boy. He stares straight ahead, his big brown eyes seem so distant, and there´s a small smile displayed on his lips, though it doesn´t seem sincere. “Why does Manu look so sad in that picture?”

“That´s him being happy, Pablo.”

“Oh.”

The youngster meets a lot of children on a daily, especially young football fans, obviously, and never has he seen a child look as gloomy as Manuel did, while being “happy”.

He concludes that he now really dreads Friday, especially when he thinks about the fact that Ana Pelayo, a friend of his since childhood, would be coming over for…adult business… and now he would have to take care of a four-year-old gloomy little gremlin. Gavi regrets saying yes. He knows Sofia has basically no one here, except for him and her husband Diego, the rest of their family still lives in Sevilla and Sofia knows that Gavi has more than enough space in his house for little Manu. “Speaking of Ana,” Gavi dreads the conversation that is about to follow up with that question already, “how is she?”

“She´s good. Recently she got invited to an event,” he discreetly answers. “Yeah? There are rumors going around,” Sofia smirks while taking a bite of her Burrito. Pablos lips tighten into a straight line, even though he knew curious Sofia, who always reads about the latest tea online, would ask him about that. “She´s only been to one game of mine and people are going crazy. We´re just friends,” he answers as nonchalant as possible, but much to his dismay, Sofias smirk only widens. “That´s not what your mom and Aurora said.” Every vein in Gavis body basically freezes, a sense of betrayal and anger courses through his body, causing the hair on his body to rise uncomfortably. How could his mother possibly know about his affiliations with Anita? He only ever told his sister, Pedri and Ansu and Alejandro and Ferran know minor details. He wants to vanish into thin air with the clap of his hands, the conversation was taking an uncomfortable turn and he fears that soon he might start blushing, which would just confirm his cousins suspicions.

“What did they tell you?”, he quirks an eyebrow up, acting clueless about the accusations. Sofia was a huge part of his life, she took care of him, changed his diapers, bathed him, mothered him at some points, but she wasn´t there the past three years of his life. The last time he saw her in person, he was fourteen, at the verge of turning fifteen, and now his nineteenth birthday is mere months away, he had matured and changed, so Gavi knows it is almost impossible for her to read him like a book, an ability she had a few years back. “Well, your mother claims you´re crushing on her and Rora said you kissed at a party,” Sofia wiggles with her eyebrows and adverts her gaze to the screen of her Laptop. Gavis eye twitches, he can´t believe that his family would ever expose him like that. “No. The kiss; we were drunk. But the crush? Big no,” he shakes his head with furrowed brows. In that sense, he wasn´t lying. Gavi doesn´t have a crush on his gorgeous friend. He had been crushing on her in the past, but that vanished quick after people started shipping them or claiming that they are secretly dating, making edits of Ana, which unintentionally got to the brunettes head, causing her to be quite egotistical at times. She was basking in the lavish lifestyle of his fame, and at first Gavi wanted to cut ties, but with fame comes frustration in more ways than one. So, they agreed to be friends with benefits, both allowed to see, date or fuck other people, and Gavi used his pretty face and toned body to his advantage whenever he entered a club in Barcelona.

How could he not? He´s a teenage boy with a great life, no privacy, but he can fulfill his families´ wildest dreams, buy them designer items every once in a while, and lives in a spacy apartment with the best view to Barcelonas beach. Plus, you only live once, so why not make the best of it? Sofia nods at his statement and doesn´t pry any further, which Gavi couldn´t be any more grateful for, because the conversation about his love-life is usually one he avoids at all cost. He quickly pulls his phone out to text Pedri.

Me: Hey, quick question. Do you, by any chance, have a fake beard or something?

Pedri: Gavi what the fuck.

A whole week.

Aerin has been trying to get Manuel to respond for a whole week, but all she gets is a blank stare right into her eyes, which at this point never fail to make a shiver run down her spine. For some reason Eden thought it was a good idea to claim that maybe Manuel has been adopted, is faking his age and is actually a serial killer who presents himself like a child. The rest of their Friday-girls-night was spent with Aerin thinking back to that statement and seeing if Manuel really showed any signs of being a serial killer who is not four, but actually thirty-two.

Finally it´s Friday and Aerin can use the weekend to study for her geography test on Thursday, though she knows that the burnout that is eating her alive, won´t give her the necessary motivation to actually take her notes out and carefully read through them, even though she would love to do that. It´s always the same routine: she wants to study, reads books or listens to music instead of studying, gets anxious about the test, gets anxious about her anxiety, decides that Saturday is her self-care day which means no studying and an hour before the test she gets a mental breakdown where she curses herself for not using her time to study. Will she do it differently the next time? No.

She´s alone with Manuel again, somehow he´s always the last to get picked up, which is probably the biggest downside of having successful business-people as your parents. They are sitting at her desk. The chair on the right is his favorite spot, especially because he can see outside through the window and watch people live their lives instead of doing what people his age usually do: cry, eat, sleep, play, cry, eat, play and so on. Though he doesn´t respond or look at her, Aerin sometimes finds herself babbling to him about the most random things.

On Wednesday, where they were in the same position as they are right now, she told him about a crazy lady in the supermarket, who was desperately searching for Principe Cookies with Moratas face on them, because in her opinion searching for Gavi or Pedri cookies would be worth the frustration. “So I went to the arcade to get the plush animal I was telling you about on Monday, and found out someone else had already won it,” she complains to Manuel, who swings with his feet, an arm draped over the back of his chair, gaze fixed on the window. “You don´t know how disappointed I was, Manu. It was crazy. I could´ve cried my eyes out,” she huffs and crosses her list of daily tasks. She had started including her conversations with Manuel to her To-Do-List. “And then I went to the guy who works there and asked if they had another one of those pink cats with glitter tongues but he-“

A knock.

Aerin frowns at the disruption, before asking the person to enter her playroom. The door opens and reveals a guy, wearing a baseball cap, a mask covering the lower half of his face and dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Manuel and Aerin exchange glances for a second. “Uhh hi I´m Pablo. I think Sofia told you that I´d pick up the little grem- little gem today?”, he stutters while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Aerin smiles, “Ah, so you must be the Pablo Manu is named after!” “You know about that?” “Sofia shares a lot of personal information. I´m Aerin by the way.”

Ah, so that´s her.

Gavi definitely agrees with her, his cousin is truly an over-sharer. “So, ehm, Manuel, are you coming?”, he awkwardly walks up to the boy and extends his hand, expecting him to quickly grip his and walk out with him, but Manuel only stares at his hand, before turning his head back to the window. Aerin bites her lip in order to not burst out with laughter and humiliate the unknown guy any further. Gavi watches her with a, to her invisible, frown. Who does she think she is? That she´s some kind of psychic just because she works with children on a daily and can control them any better than he can? Hell no, Gavi can do that too. “Manu? Vamos, I have surprise guest for you at home!” Manuel doesn´t even budge, only blinks. Gavi could feel the embarrassment and frustration grow in the pit of his stomach, and Aerin could sense the insecurity coming from his body. She quickly closes the cap of her pen, before standing up and kneeling in front of Manuel, disturbing his clear view outside. She tickles his stomach, “Listen big man, how about we go outside instead of just staring at it from inside? I heard there are some really pretty flowers at the parking-lot, and I want to take a few home with me, so come and help me pick out the prettiest ones!”, she softly holds the boys’ hand and urges him to stand up, which the boy does without a word of protest. Pablo can feel his eye twitch at the fact that she did that so easily and smoothly but follows them to the hallway so the boy can change. “Look at that! You have new boots, and they can even light up! I´m so jealous Manu,” she lets out an exasperate sigh, and for the first time, he smiles. Aerins eyes widen, she almost drops his boot out of her hands, but quickly regains her composure. A flash of pride crashes through her body and she can´t suppress the wide smirk growing on her face.

While Aerin is busy with Manuels boots, Gavi takes a look at the pictures hanging on the walls. Most of them are, as expected in a nursery, pictures of children, smiling at the camera, covered in cake-batter or in the garden, too busy with plucking flowers to notice the camera, taking pictures of them. His eyes land on a picture of Aerin and Eden, a Barcelona scarf is wrapped around Aerins neck, the FC Barcelona home-kit almost hidden beneath it, while smiling widely at the camera. Eden on the other hand, has her fists raised into the air, wearing the third kit proudly. “You´re a Culer?”, he asks, curiosity suddenly sparked. Aerin looks back to Gavi, “Yes.” “Who´s your favorite player?”, he leans his back against the wall, watching how the girl helps his little cousin with his shoes. “I have many,” Aerin answers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And those are?”, he pries further, mostly because his ego wants her to say his name, to praise him, tell him how much she loves Gavi and how big her unhealthy obsession with him is, unaware of the fact that she´s basically admitting it to his face. “If I had to choose just one, I´d say Ousmane Dembele, but my top five are Dembele, Pedri, Araujo, De Jong and Ter Stegen,” she lists and Gavi feels every bit of his self-esteem crumble for a split second as he doesn´t hear the four letters of his shortened last name exit her plump lips. He doesn´t ask further, though. Manuel stands up from his seat, dressed and ready to leave the school. “Bye Manu,” she waves at him with a bright smile, and Manu waves back with a monotone expression.

Gavi takes the little boy up into his arms, and looks at Aerin for a second, “Adios, Maestra.”

#pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #pablo martín páez gavira #fc barcelona #slow burn #gavi x oc

[natura-est-sacellum]

Why are people bashing on trad males now?

Speaking on behalf of all us more conservative, traditionally feminine women, there are a lot of trad man blogs that interact with us purely by talking down to us. They post a lot of suggestive photos of scantily clad women, or reblog quotes from the Bible that discuss women being submissive to their husbands but either those quotes cut off the part that asks men to be submissive to their wives, or misinterprets the quotes entirely.

Speaking on behalf of my Christian followers and mutuals, they don't appreciate the porn, the misquoting of the Bible, or the BDSM/DDLG imagery and language present on their blogs.

On a personal note, and I don't talk about this because I do have a lot of male followers and I don't want to alienate them and make them feel unwelcome or uncomfortable reaching out and asking questions if they want to...but I have had issues with men on here messaging me privately and asking to "get to know" me because we "have a lot in common". And that sounds far too flirtatious to me. It might not be; they could just be very nice. But I am a married woman. I state this openly in my blog header. If you message me looking for possible companionship without properly checking to see if I openly share my relationship status, that tells me either you aren't very thinky...or you just don't care. Both of which, to me at least, are red flags.

I have almost written at least a dozen vague posts about such messages only to save them to drafts for a time I feel more courageous or delete them outright. After all, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I am a classical woman, I need to be agreeable.

But I am so. Fucking. Done. With being agreeable. I am married. I hate porn. Sacrifice and service is obligatory on BOTH halves of a marriage. Husbands and fathers need to pull their own weight in the household. And if you equate aforementioned service as a sexual thing, you're a fucking creep, get the fuck outta my messages.

Sidebar: the amount of sugar daddy/paypigs I've had come into my messages looking for a sugar baby makes me want to commit war crimes. Fuck your own face, how bout that geezer? And I do mean geezer; almost all these men have been 40+. For context, my youngest parent is 47. What the fuck does a 40+ man want with a woman in her late 20s? And don't start with some biology bullshit about hormones or whatever, I don't give a fuck.

Between the guys in my messages and randos I come in contact with in my personal life, I'm this damn close to actually investing in a burka. Not because I'm fond of Islam, but because I want to be left the fuck alone and unogled by men who aren't my husband.

You know I wear my hair bound when I go out? Maybe just a simple ponytail or braids, but I have been sexualized for my hair. Because I have natural red hair and...idk, guys get weird about that. I've had 3 men through my adult life ask if the carpets match the drapes. In public. While in a professional environment. And when I've brought this up to people, they're like, "oh, you're reading too much into it". Like...bitch?

Please, someone explain this to me. How is this okay? Do blondes get asked this? Because they're just as likely to get their haircolor from a bottle as well. I genuinely want to know.

I have an Artemis-esque H A T R E D of being sexualized. And while this is a seldom-discussed topic as far as I've seen from my mutuals, I would be willing to bet they all have their personal struggles with men being creepy on here. Some of my mutuals are happily taken, as well. And unless you get off on guys flirting with you even though you're married, you're probably just gonna be pissed.

Now, don't get me wrong, there are some trad man blogs on here that don't post porn. That don't talk down to women, but rather value our political and theological opinions and engage us in genuine debates. That post Bible quotes in full, and in context, and further explain what the quotes actually mean. That keep to themselves, and have simply messaged me "hey, I really enjoy your blog, keep fighting the good fight". And I appreciate those blogs for being gentlemanly and not pushing the bounds of propriety.

[kpforpresident]

They meet in an adult night class but they’re there for very different reasons

Clearly I’m a little confused about what an adult night class is so I went where my mind went, but reading it back I realized they probably meant like a night school class?! So forgive my oversight lol. I hope you still like it, anon. 

//

A dim red light glowed from the hanging fixtures, lending a seductive feeling to the room. Dark, slinky music poured from the speakers fixed into the corners. Lexa stood awkwardly in the corner of the darkened, mirrored room. Her gaze darted around uncertainly as she tried not to stare too long at any of the exposed midriff or cleavage on all the other students. Clad in a plain black tank top and soffe shorts that had seen better days, everyone else was in skin-baring bras and tight booty shorts. 

“Anya,” she hissed, grabbing her friend as she walked by to stretch on the wall, “where have you taken me??” 

Anya looked at Lexa, eyes flicking pointedly down to where Lexa had her bicep in a death grip. 

“Lexa, unclench, pull the stick out of your ass,” Anya whispered, prying Lexa’s fingers off of her arm. “It’s just a pole dancing class. You can handle an hour of hot sweaty women gyrating, you aren’t going to burst into gay confetti.” Lexa glowered but didn’t respond, biting her lip to hold back her snarky retort. 

A gorgeous woman- Raven, Lexa remembered from sign-in -with a long dark ponytail walked fluidly to the front of the room, talking confidently over the quiet murmurs of the students. 

“Everyone, welcome to Spin. Class will begin in about five minutes, please find a spot on the floor to stretch and get limber before we begin.” 

Lexa grumbled slightly but sank down obediently in her spot, stretching her legs out in front of her and bending to grab a toe. A gorgeous blonde sank down next to her, shooting her a radiant smile as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to her thighs as she flexed her toes straight. 

Lexa watched, open mouthed. The woman was clad in a black bra that zipped up the front, somehow containing a mountain of pale cleavage within its confines. Tight black shorts stopped slightly above her belly button, abs flexing slightly as she bent and stretched. Her hair was clipped half up in a tortoiseshell claw clip, golden waves shifting slightly as she fluidly sank into the splits. Lexa knew she must look ridiculous as she openly gawked at the goddess next to her. 

“So,” the woman said in a slightly husky voice, “come here often?” 

Lexa laughed slightly at the ridiculousness of the statement. The blonde quirked an eyebrow, curious. 

“I’m Lexa,” Lexa said as she stuck out her hand. “And no, I do not. This is my first class, and I’m inflexible and slightly terrified. Are you new here, as well?” 

 The blond, radiant blue eyes twinkling, shook it firmly. She slowly unraveled herself from the floor and rose to standing. Among her, the other participants rose as well, each moving to stand next to a pole. Lexa looked around as she also stood, wondering what secret signal she had missed.

 “I’m Clarke, Lexa. It’s nice to meet you. And no, not my first time- I teach this class.”

#i am really into pole dance teacher clarke and awkward lexa?? #what a fun au idea #clexa #thanks for the prompt anon #even though i totally scuppered it #kpprompts

[celinolesunshine]

Eyes Colored Sun, Mouth Like The Moon

A SUN/MOON X GN! READER FANFIC

CHAPTER ONE: such a big little friend

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5

~~~~~~~~~~

'Bright like the sun', they said. That's when they decided to call you 'sunflower', because they couldn't read your nametag. He called you 'starlight', because of how you shone in his eyes.

It didn't take long to warm up to the dual persona of the daycare attendant, and somehow you found yourself.. drawn to them? You weren't sure, but you had the feeling you would be in it for the long haul.

It was only after months of working alongside them, however, you began to notice a change in Moon. he was... different. More distant, perhaps; and a shorter fuse to boot. They had you invested, and you were determined to figure out what was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

YES, It's a romance. slow-burned, but three installments of ten chapters each are planned so bear with me.

~~~~~~~~~~

Today, you're welcomed at your new job by a blonde in white slacks, and.. turns out you have an assistant (rather, you are their assistant.)

..What could go wrong?

such a big little friend

--

Your first day of work.

You had applied as a temporary daycare worker while you were in between jobs. You got the job for your experience with siblings, and the occasional babysitting gig. You hadn’t exactly expected to get the call confirming the start of your first shift, but surprisingly you took it anyways.

So here you stood, in front of the largest appropriation of Toy Story’s Pizza Palace you had ever seen, mouth agape at the bright lights and neon colours that decorated that outside of what a large, yellow-tinted neon sign informed you was Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex. 

As you walked inside, you found your eyes temporarily assaulted as the colours and decorum srang out into your vision. You took it all in for a moment, glancing at the tiling on the floor, the ultraviolet lights strung to the ceiling, and the stage that gleamed in the centre of a giant open-diner setting.

This was potentially any child’s favourite place to be. Your mind spun at the entirety of this new, overstimulating environment.

“Hey, you! There you are; I was wondering when you’d show up!” A voice wormed its way to your attention; you snapped yourself around to find the source.

To your immediate left stood a young woman, likely in her mid-20s, towing over your small frame. She had a head full of honey-blonde hair, swept up into a neat ponytail, and piercing blue eyes. She seemed kind, although you found yourself wary of the stranger. 

“Hello.” you spoke, treading cautiously. You didn’t recognize her uniform from any of the articles of the Pizzaplex you had hastily looked up in order to better understand the place – then again, you had just walked in –, and you couldn’t tell how she stood in comparison to you. Was she a higher-up? A fellow co-worker? You couldn’t quite figure it out.

The young woman seemed to sense your unease, because she smiled lightly, pointing to a gleaming white nametag on her chest. 

“I’m Vanessa. We won’t be working together, but we’ll still be seeing plenty of each other, I’m sure.”

Vanessa looked to you expectantly, as if you were supposed to say something. 

“Oh, right. Well, it seems you already know who I am. It’s nice to meet you.” You answer, straying towards a more diplomatic conversation for the sake of your position.

“I’m a security worker here. I’m on the graveyard shift, though; so we’ll basically tag-team, since we’re some of the only human employees around here.” She said.

You felt your brain blank for a split second.

“This place is massive! How can we be the only people running it? Plus,” You ass, prying into Vanessa’s thought-invoking choice of words, “–what exactly do you mean by ‘human employees’? We’re not working with Frankenstein’s monster or anything, are we?”

Vanessa snickered. “No, nothing like that. I suppose for an adult, you wouldn’t know much about the rise of this place. Well, maybe; – What was your previous job?” 

You scratch the back of your neck. “I was a sketch artist for a local film company.” 

With a sigh, you remember receiving the email – on an off day, no less – that the founder of the company had died. He was a sweet old man who had been making old-fashioned sketch cartoons for decades now, showing them off in a little 20-seat theater two blocks from where you lived. You had picked up the job when you were younger, staying with the company through all of the turmoil that It had faced, and were upset to see it go as it did. Still, you had to move on.

Vanessa makes a resolute noise.

“Yeah, no chance.” With a clack of her toes against the hard ground, she states,

“We work alongside robots.” 

Oh.

It wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but all things considered? It was actually pretty cool. Not every day did you get the opportunity to work alongside advanced technology. You could recall building little land-rover type robots in primary school, peering at all of the little cogs and gears and crevices in the metal. You smiled. 

“Actually, they’re called animatronics, formally, but there’s truly not much of a difference. Mostly the S.T.A.F.F bots are the ones hanging around, doing all of the things that normal employees would. Watch out for the map bots, though; Those buggers are scary as shit.” Vanessa said, her eyebrows scrunching up in disgust. 

“Oh, and the Pat-Pats.” She said, smiling. 

Upon a raised eyebrow, Vanessa clarifies, “Little yellow guys about yay-high–” She puts her hand at about knee level; “They stand on the floor when it’s been mopped, and then beep at you when they suspect you’re stepping into something wet.” 

“Huh. That’s pretty cool.” You say.

“Yep. Well, before I go, I’ve been instructed to show you your placement, so if you’d follow me, I’ll go ahead and fill you in a bit more on the details of this place.”

You followed Vanessa through the long, glowing halls of the Pizzaplex, having her explain to you the mechanics of the place. It didn’t take you long to grow fond of the neons and the padding flooring; You already could tell that you would really like it here.

You both had reached the second floor now, towards what you trusted was the general direction of the Daycare you’d be working in.

“You probably won’t see any of the Glamrocks anytime soon, unless you need to grab someone from Parts & Services. Actually, you may see them sooner than you think. Sun’s a hell of a klutz.” Vanessa said, about three strides ahead of you. You began to sweat along your temples as you tried to keep up.

Confused, you started to ask who this ‘Sun’ character was, but you put curiosity first and asked about the Glamrocks. 

“Who… are they?” 

“Oh, the Glamrocks? Right, I forgot you don’t know much about the place.” Vanessa pointed down, towards the shining black stage in the middle of the first floor. From up here, it looked so much wider than it did standing in front of the entrance. 

“They perform there a few times a day. They’re all animatronics, as well, but you won’t be working with em’, so I’ll spare introductions for another day. All of them are brand-new, as well; re-vamped versions of old mechanical concepts. I’ll have to show you the maintenance storage room where we keep all of the old parts of decommissioned animatronics; It’s freaky as fuck.” 

You ran your hand along the guardrail overlooking the main stage. “I didn’t know there were older ones.”

Vanessa laughed lightly. “Well, yeah. It’s not really something of our generation, so I couldn’t expect you to know. Regardless, this whole ‘Freddy Fazbear’ franchise has been around for quite a while. It’s fascinating, really, how much everything’s changed. It’s probably the only reason I’ve really stuck around for so long.”

With a sigh, Vanessa rolls her shoulders back and takes her own hands off of the balcony guardrail. “Well, newbie, enough chit-chat. I’ll go ahead and show you to your post, and then I’ll be off. With enough luck, I’ll end up seeing you again before you leave.” 

She led you to a pair of large, wooden doors that looked as if they were from a fairytale. They stood probably ten feet tall, and were a rich, chocolatey-brown color. Ornate patterns swirled and dipped into the lacquered surface, creating hidden nooks and crevices that must have taken ages to carve with such precision. You took hold of the large brass handle on the door, the cold metal pressing into your palms as you dragged it open.

You gasped. 

Instead of sharp, dazzling colors, this room was full of light, subdued pastels. Greens and blues and soft pink colors washed the walls, polka-dots dappling the floor in carpeted bubbles of color. A check-in desk stood to the far left of the room, and tables with chairs were littered all over the main floor. Stairs twisted downward beyond the desk, likely towards the main daycare section, and a slide stood about five meters to the right of the stairs. A bright mantle above it said, “Slide Into Fun!”, and was where you suspected the children preferred to enter the daycare.

A bright golden statue stood in the middle of the daycare lobby, happy and inviting. It looked as if the character in the middle of the statue was a humanized version of the sun. It was odd, you admit, but interesting as well. You felt your lips tug into a grin.

“Welcome to the Superstar Daycare, newbie.” Vanessa called, approaching from behind you. 

You pointed to the figure in the golden statue. “Is this the mascot? For the daycare, I mean – Not the whole place.” 

Vanessa shrugged her shoulders slightly, raising her hands up as if to say, ‘so-so’. 

“Sort of. It would actually be easier if I just showed you.”

Giving you no time to properly respond, Vanessa cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, 

“Hey, Sun! Get up here; I’ve found your new helper!” 

All Vanessa did was smirk at you in the wake of your confusion, and you returned her gaze with one of perplexed insanity. What the hell was shouting into the abyss going to lead to? 

“Newbie, meet your new assistant.” Vanessa said, still grinding broadly. It amused her greatly to see you so surprised at meeting the daycare attendant. 

You were greeted by none other than the larger-than-life, full-color version of the figure in the statue. The animatronic stood easily at six and a half feet tall, towering over you in all of their glory. They had a bright yellowish-orange complexion, with a sun as a face. A gray crescent moon helped to shape their defining features, their nose and a bit of their mouth shaped from oddly-angled strips of moon. Their eyes glowed a luminescent white, bright in contrast to the sharp colors of their face. Seven orange triangles jutted out from the undersides of their face panel, simulating the rays of the sun. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the funny-looking daycare worker, who seemed to be vibrating out of excitement. 

“Okay; You can introduce yourself now, Sun.” Vanessa said. You had forgotten she was even there.

And that was all it took. 

They pounced on you, scooping you easily up and into their arms, spinning and spinning and– 

“Ohhh, a new friend! Oh, my! I’m soooo excited!” They exclaimed, spinning on a heel and stopping to set you down, winded. 

“Wow! Quite the welcome, I see.” You begin, putting your hands on your knees. 

“Oh, my- did I hurt you?!” They seem apologetic, but assume the same bubbly stature as before when you shake your head ‘no’. They continue. 

“I pick up all of my new friends so that I can make a physical profile of them as they enter the daycare! You know, so in case somebody is being a little rule-breaker and tries to sneak into the daycare after-hours! I can tell their height, their weight, their health, and little things like what they smell like! That way, I’ll know if someone is here that should not be!” They state, smiling proudly.

Dipping down, the sun-shaped animatronic sprung into a goofy little pose, eyes gleaming happily; it set you off into a plethora of little giggles. Their exuberant energy was contagious.

“On that note – It’s absolutely wonderful to meet you, new helper-friend! I’m Sunnydrop, but you can call me Sun, if you’d like! Or whatever you want– I’m over the whole entire world that you’re here!” 

You laughed again. This gangly array of metal and plastic was adorable. 

“I’ll be helping out around here with you. And here – this is my nametag. So you know what to call me.” You handed Sun your little pin-on tag (which you had received in a little care package on the front desk once you arrived that also included a Faz-watch and some ride passes), where you had written your name in the blank spot.

They peer at it curiously, before taking it with careful hands. 

They hold it up to their eyes, an odd little clicking sound emitting from their chest as they attempt to decipher what it says. 

“Well, goodness! I can’t understand a single letter! I guess I’ll have to make up something fun to call you instead!” They hand you back your tag. 

Of course. It’s in cursive. 

Sun begins to descend the stairs directly in front of you, beckoning with a happy hand to follow. So you do. 

When you reach the bottom, you’re struck again with amazement. Large, boldly-colored softplay structures cover the majority of the daycare floor, with slides and tunnels and ladders on every side. Interlocking foam mats cover the ground – to protect children from injury, you presume –, and little tables stand to the far right of what looks to be a desk of some sort. 

And it’s all in impeccable shape. Sparkling and clean, just as if it were all brand-new. You were thoroughly impressed. 

“You’re very bright, new friend! Bright and oh-so happy. You shine, shine, shine like a star, friend! What should your name be?” Sun rambled, pacing the floors like an overexcited puppy dog.

“–Oh, oh, I know! Sunflower! Bright, happy-shiny like the sun, pretty as flower petals – It’s perfect, isn’t it, new friend?” They continue.

Grinning broadly, you agree, “Yes, it is. I like it a lot, Sun, thank you! I’m really happy we’re working together. You’re fascinating.”

A funny little chirp emits from their voice box as you look up to them. 

“Oh-ho, big words! Thank you, thank you – I am very, very happy to have a helper like you, too! I like it so-so-very much!” 

Sighing, you ask, “Okay, so what should we do first to get ready for the day?” 

“Well, little Sunflower, we need crafting things for the day! Glitter glue, crayons, colorful paper – do you like glitter glue? I do, oh, yes I do!” 

You can’t help but nod. “I do. I haven’t used any in forever, but I have to admit, I like glitter, and funny socks, and little eyeballs that bounce around – they’re all really entertaining!” 

Sun looks to you happily; contentedly, as if they were satisfied with your answer. Opening the door to a storage room, you gaped at the height of the doorframe, which was likely custom-built to accommodate for Sun’s height. They shuffled right through, their voice box crackling as they hummed a garbled tune. 

You begin to pile boxes of crayons in your arms, but you must have collected one too many, because as you make your way to exit the room, you manage to lose your balance and tumble to the ground, crayons of all colors spilling and rolling every which way. But suddenly, there is Sun – bending down to help. He looks concerned.

“Are you alright, sunflower?! Oh, no, this is such a mess, yes it is! We’ve got to clean all of this up! Not to worry, not to worry - we’ll have it all picked up in no time!” They proceeded to lift you up by the armpits and pull you back to your feet. 

“I was wrong! You’re not very little, no-no. Haha, such a big little friend! Though not as tall as me, yes! You are still small.” 

Shaking your head, you begin to help pick up the spilt stationery on the floor, but Sun pushed you back with a hand, his other hand seamlessly gathering crayons between his nimble fingers as you struggle, puzzled. 

“Nope! Hurt friends don’t have to help clean up! Not this time!”

Sighing, you accepted your fate and stepped away. At least they cared for your well-being. 

Of all the places that you could have worked, you were coming to the stunning conclusion that this place wasn’t going to be all that awful. In fact, you thought that it wasn't even going to feel much like work at all.

#fnaf security breach #sundrop #sundrop x reader #moondrop #moondrop x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sun

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter. I hope everyone is having a great weekend. This story was inspired by an article I read (could be false lol) about Tiphaine coming home late.

It was midnight when Emmanuel woke up to find himself alone in bed. Brigitte had gone to sleep at the same time as him, but now she wasn’t there. Placing a hand on her side, Emmanuel was surprised to find the bedsheets cold. 

He slipped out of bed to search for his wife. 

After failing to find her in the bathroom or kitchen, he went to the living room. There she was, looking out the window onto the dark street. He stood for a moment, soaking in her timeless beauty. Brigitte was a vision in a white silk robe, her blonde hair neatly tied up in a ponytail.

“Cherie, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you in bed?” Emmanuel caressed her back. 

“Tiphaine is not home yet. I’m worried” Brigitte whispered. “It’s 12:45 am. She promised me she’d be home by midnight. She's late” 

Emmanuel had not realized the exact time. “It’s okay. I’m sure she’ll be home any minute. She’s a big girl, she can handle herself” 

He wanted to sound reassuring for Brigitte, but deep down he was worried too. Yes, Tiphaine was technically an adult but she was only 22 years old. Their daughter was a beautiful girl who piqued the interest of a lot of men - older and younger. It hadn’t been that long since Emmanuel was in school, so he knew the way college guys operated. Not everyone was a “one-woman man” like him. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, Cherie. Let’s go back to our bedroom” Emmanuel pleaded, reaching for her hand. 

“No. I won’t go until I know she’s safe. I didn’t have this problem with my other kids. Tiphaine likes to push the limits, break the rules'' Brigitte sighed. “I don't even know where she is, or who she's with” 

“Let’s watch television. It will distract you” Emmanuel suggested. Without giving Brigitte a chance to protest, he turned on the television and pulled her onto his lap. 

It didn’t take long before they became engrossed in a World War 2 documentary. 

“Brigitte, she’s home!” Emmanuel declared, hearing a car door slam outside. “Brigitte? Honey?” 

Without him realizing it, his wife had fallen asleep in his arms. Emmanuel carefully repositioned her body, so as not to wake her, in order to greet Tiphaine. 

She was fumbling with her keys in the lock when the front door opened wide. “Oh, hey Manu, did I wake youuu?” Tiphaine slurred. 

“No, I was watching television with your mother,” Emmanuel explained. He noticed she was tipsy. “Are you drunk? Who drove you home?” 

Tiphaine sighed. “I had 2 beers, like, an hour ago…and a few cranberry shots. A friend dropped me off” 

“It’s past your curfew” he pointed out. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago” 

“I’m sorry. I was having a really good time at the club and I didn’t want to leave. Is Maman mad?” Tiphaine asked, suddenly aware they were still standing in the entryway. 

“She’s not mad, just worried. Your mother was in the living room waiting for you, looking out the window and pacing back and forth. Eventually, she fell asleep on the couch. Tiphaine, I know you like to go out but your mother was a nervous wreck. She loves you - we both do. So please come home at a reasonable hour. You have a curfew for a reason” Emmanuel explained softly. 

Tiphaine understood where he was coming from. Even though he wasn’t her biological father, she respected him. ���I’m sorry Manu. I’ll apologize to Maman in the morning” 

He kissed her cheek. “Go upstairs and get ready for bed” 

After making sure she got up the stairs on her own, he headed back to the living room. 

“Oh! You’re awake? How much of that did you hear?” 

Brigitte wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. “I heard everything. I woke up when you opened the front door. Thank you, darling” 

“For what, Cherie?” Emmanuel deepened the kiss. 

“For loving my daughter like she was yours”  

“She is mine. Now, let’s go” Emmanuel let his hands wander inside her robe. “Our bed must be lonely without us” 

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Protective stepfather Manu is adorable 🥰 And at the same time, also wanting to protect Brigitte. If he’s not the cutest human being 🥰 And Brigitte listening to everything 🤧🥰

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #winter

[imagineyourworld]

Back to School (Part One)

Steven Grant x Fem!Professor!Reader, (eventual Marc Spector x Fem!Professor!Reader)

Summary: After returning from Egypt, Steven decides to give university a chance, though he didn’t expect to meet form a connection with his professor, a woman he knows he could never have

Warnings: Reader wears glasses, 

—----

Steven felt old. He had always considered himself to be an old soul, as they say, often out of place in the loud and hectic city with its blinking lights, loud music and the smell of smoke from all kinds of cigarettes and vapes and whatever youngsters were smoking these days all around him. But this was different, here he really was old. By far the oldest in the room, if not the entire building. Even some of the professors he had met so far were younger than him, other than his Intro to Ancient Greek professor at least, he might as well have been alive when the pyramids were being built.  Steven looked around at all the young faces. Some were hidden behind shiny new laptops, others stared down at their phones or were talking to their friends, and of course some seemed to be asleep, mistaking Lessons Learned from Mythology for naptime.  He glanced at his watch. Quarter past ten. The professor was late. “They’re not coming. Let’s get out of here and do something useful with our time,” Marc, his reflection barely visible on the cracked glass of the watch, said. Steven shook his head ever so slightly. He didn’t dare reply verbally, too self conscious of what his new classmates might think. It was bad enough starting university this late in life, he didn’t need to be the weirdo in addition to being the old guy.  “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t expect parking to be this difficult this early in the morning.” The voice made Steven avert his gaze from his watch. The professor had arrived. And not just any professor, a rather pretty one around his age with glasses sliding down her nose and her hair in a messy ponytail. “She’s cute,” Marc remarked. “Maybe this class won’t be that boring after all.” 

While setting up your laptop and PowerPoint presentation you rambled through your usual greetings and introductions, which you knew by heart by now, since it was the same procedure as every year. Once everything was set up you took a moment to look around the room. The class seemed to be the biggest you’ve taught so far, almost a hundred students either looked at you or their laptops. Some, you knew, were only taking this class because they had to or because everything else was filled up, others seemed to be actually interested in the topic, though it was the minority.  One student in particular caught your eye. He was older than everyone else, though it wasn’t the first time that you had actual adults in one of your classes, with messy dark hair and a jacket that was at least a size too big covering up a colourful shirt. That guy, you quickly decided, would either be one of your best students or the worst.  “Now I know most of you aren’t fans of these big lectures where you just listen to me going on and on about a certain topic, but how about you all just be quiet and try to listen or at least turn the volume on your phones down and I’ll try to let you go a few minutes earlier.” This caught the attention of everyone, even that tall blond guy in the last row who you could have sworn was just about to fall asleep. “Okay then: Mythology. Of course there are many, many mythologies from all around the world. From Europe to Asia, America to Australia and Africa and all those islands in between, every group of people, whether they were organised into what we today would call a “society”, though I’m not a huge fan of the word in this context, or not had their own belief systems, and with that their own mythologies. Of course we cannot focus on every single mythology from around the world, so for this class I have chosen four rather well known examples: We’ll start with Greek and Roman mythologies, then move on to Norse mythology and finally finish with the oldest mythology we’ll talk about: Egyptian mythology. But of course you’re free to write a term paper on any other mythology there is.” You clicked through your slides while talking, lost in ancient worlds of gods and monsters, realms of endless possibilities and limitless suffering.  “First off we’ll try to differentiate between mythology and religion. I have two examples for you…” 

“That’s it for today. I hope to see all of you again next week,” you said, thereby ending your lecture for the day.  As soon as the last word left your mouth dozens of laptops and notebooks were slammed shut, bags were zipped up and jackets thrown on. It only took around a minute until the room was half-empty.  You unplugged your laptop, your thoughts already occupied with where you should get lunch and the research paper you wanted to work on in the afternoon, when a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if there are any books you recommend reading for this course.”  You looked up from your desk to find the man with the dark hair and too big jacket standing in front of you.  You shook your head. “As I said, I’ll upload everything you need to read to the university’s website within the next couple of days.” The man nodded his head, making his curls move along with him. “I know, I know. It’s just that… I’m really interested in the material and maybe there’s some further reading. I’d have a look in the library myself, but this is my first week and I’m not even sure where the library is.” Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to spark with enthusiasm, or the shy smile on his lips, but you instantly decided that this wasn’t just a way to sweet talk you into giving him special treatment the way other students sometimes did, it was genuine interest. “Well, the thing is that most literature is rather advanced. I chose some essays for you guys to read that are more or less introductory, but in order to understand the lessons these ancient mythologies not only taught lessons back in the day but continue to do so you’d need a lot of background information.”  The man nodded again and averted his eyes. You watched as he scanned your belongings on the table; your laptop, water bottle, phone, and the book you’re currently reading. Suddenly he jerked forward and before you knew it he had said book in his hand and began to flip through it. “I used to have this book as well, it’s amazing! One of my favourites, actually. I read it at least a dozen times, usually at night when I wanted to keep myself from falling asleep, but one time I brought it to work with me and my boss ended up spilling her coffee all over it. It was ruined and I had to throw it out, couldn’t find it anywhere afterwards, must have gone out of print. She swore it was an accident, by the way, but I don’t think so, she was never a fan of my reading.” As he talked he continued to look through the book, but once he finished he looked up again and right into your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks as his dark brown eyes met yours, but to your surprise it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, even though you were usually not that good with eye contact. But there was something about him, something that made you feel safe rather than threatened, something that told you he’d never judge you. Quickly you shook your head. This was a student asking a question about reading material, not a meet-cute.  “Right now I still need this book for another lecture, but if you want you can come to my office on Friday and I’ll lend it to you.” The man’s eyes widened in shock, and you hoped that yours didn’t as well. What were you thinking, giving your books away to a stranger? You were always so careful with all your possessions, but especially your books, they were holy and not to be touched by anyone other than you and the people you trusted the most. But the warm smile the man gave you and the sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to regret your offer.  “That’d be great, amazing! Thank you so much. I’ll see you on Friday,” the man said, his smile widening even more as he pushed his bag higher up his shoulder and made his way to the door. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him turning around to look at you once more, and consequently walking right into the closed door. You were quick to avert your eyes in order not to embarrass him, but you couldn’t help a small smile lighting up your face and wishing for Friday to come sooner. 

-------

You were just packing up on Friday afternoon when the door to your office burst open. The man from Monday came barging into the room, hair even messier than before, a rucksack in his hand and his jacket slung over his arm. “You’re still here,” he exclaimed as a huge grin lit up his face. You zipped up your bag before really looking at him. He was a bit sweaty, but his eyes were bright. “I lost track of time and thought you may have left already.” You shook your head and asked him to sit down at the same time. Carefully the man sat in the chair on the other side of your desk. He pulled the arms of his jumper down over his hands and began to play with the seams. “To be honest, I’m usually the last person here.” Lie. “I think even the cleaning personnel leaves before I do.” Lie, again. The truth was that you had been waiting for him for hours. You didn’t know why, but you really wanted him to show up, to the point where you pushed going home back again and again in favour of waiting alone in your damp and dark office.  You knew you shouldn’t complain, at a young age you had managed to score a permanent teaching and research position at one of the city’s most prestigious universities, but sadly said uni didn’t really value Egyptology and Ancient Studies all that much, which lead to your office being in the basement of one of the oldest buildings on campus. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My… friend… Marc, he needed my help with something and I just couldn’t refuse. But-,” he began to rummage through the bag he had put down beside the chair. “I did bring you this.” You pulled the book he paced on your desk closer to you. The cover was somewhat familiar but it wasn’t one you had read before. “I figured since you’re kind enough to lend me a book, it would one be fair for me to repay the favour.” He gave you a bright smile, though there was some uncertainty mixed into it. “I wasn’t sure whether you’ve already read it, or if you even like it, but I… it felt wrong not to give you something in return.” You opened the book, too excited by it to even pay much attention to his words, and found something on the very first page that took you by surprise. “It’s signed.” Big blue letters graced the first page, right under the title. “To Steven, who could rival Thot in knowledge.” Steven. Finally you could put a name to his face. It had bothered you all week that you hadn’t asked him for his name on Monday and now you knew at least his first name, meaning you could look up his last name on the class register. “The author gave a presentation at the museum a couple of years ago and I asked him to sign the book.” You raised an eyebrow. “The museum?” Steven’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly. “I used to work at the British Museum.” You stopped flipping through the book and looked at him. It fits, you decided after a moment. You could really imagine Steven sitting at a desk in the museum archive, buried underneath piles of books, only emerging once the museum closed to walk through the halls filled with history in peace, maybe with the moon shining through the glass roof in the entrance hall, bathing him in silver light. Though something about this mental picture wasn’t quite right. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Steven, but why are you taking my class? It’s an introduction to mythology, and based on the books you’re reading and the fact that you used to work in one of the most famous museums on the planet, you don’t seem to need it.” His blush deepened and he glanced around the room until his eyes finally settled on a mirror you had put in the corner to make the room seem bigger and brighter. “I didn’t exactly work at the museum,” he mumbled. “I mean I did work there, but at the gift shop.” He seemed almost embarrassed of his former profession, the way he refused to look at you and continued to pick at the seam of his jumper told you as much. For some reason you couldn’t quite explain you felt the desire to reach out to him, to place your hands on his and tell him that it was alright. “Working at a gift shop might not be the most intellectually challenging job, but I’d argue that it is still an important one. After all, some of the most treasured items in my flat are from gift shops all over the world.” A hesitant smile found its way to Steven’s face. “Thank you for the book,” you added. “I look forward to brewing myself a nice cup of tea and reading it tonight.” You slipped the book into your bag and went to pull the one you had promised Steven out when a realisation struck you. “Bloody hell, Steven, I’m so sorry. I forgot the book at home.” You closed your eyes with a defeated sigh. What’s been going on lately? You seemed to be forgetting everything. Just yesterday you had left your phone at home, the day before it was a paper you had finished grading late at night. “It’s fine. I can just come back on Monday and you’ll give it to me then, no worries.” The fact that Steven had given you a book, one that probably had to mean a lot to him, simply based on the fact that it was signed by the author, and you hadn’t even managed to take the book you had laid on your bedside table specifically so you’d remember, stung. “You know what? I don’t live far from here, I’ll just go and grab the book real quick. If you want you can wait here, I’ll be back in like 20 minutes.” Without waiting for an answer you put your phone in your backpocket and walked over to the door where your coat was hanging. “I can’t let you do that, it’s really not that important,” Steven began to protest. You were having none of his protests. “Please, it’s the least I can do after you lend me your book. And it’s really not that far.” Now Steven rose as well, he walked over to you, and shook his head again. “At least let me walk you. It’s dark outside and I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to you.” You considered his offer for a moment. On the one hand not having to walk across campus alone at night would be great, especially if it was Steven who was with you. On the other hand it would be Steven walking with you, a man you’ve only talked to twice, someone who you didn’t really know, who might be more dangerous than anyone lurking in the shadows. And yet there was this gut feeling telling you to trust him. “You really don’t have to,” you said, though your protest was out of politeness rather than wanting him to withdraw his offer. “I know, but I want to.” 

“Usually I’d be all for you going home with a beautiful woman, but have you really thought this through?” Steven tried his best to ignore Marc’s continuous questions in his head and instead focused on you. The way you were walking close enough for him to feel your body heat, a stark contrast in the cold night, your sweet scent, probably a shampoo or perfume, or the way your hand sometimes brushed against his ever so slightly. There, it happened again! This time all Steven could do as to not reach out and take your hand in his was to push his own hands into the pockets of his jacket. “So,” he finally spoke to break the awkward silence. “How long have you been a professor?” You shrugged, something Steven could only barely see in the darkness. “Technically for a couple of years, but I only started teaching last semester, before that I mostly did research.” You said it as if that were the most boring thing imaginable, but Steven couldn’t help but be fascinated. How could he not? You were not only beautiful and kind, you were interested in ancient Egypt. It had only taken two conversations for Steven to decide that you were perfect. “What sort of research?” Oh boy, even Steven, who loved learning and was known to ramble on about the topics he’s interested in from time to time, had not expected you to launch into a monologue about different mythologies, facts and figures, gods and goddesses that lasted until you finally stopped in front of the door to your building. “Oh my, I didn’t realise I kept droning on about this. I’m so sorry, but once I get talking it’s hard to stop. You should have stopped me, Steven.” There it was again, the way you said his name, those two simple syllabi, made his heart flutter. Though he couldn’t see him, he could practically feel Marc’s smirk. “Maybe I didn’t want to stop you, I like listening to you talk.” It must have been a trick of the light, there was no way you were blushing, no way at all. “I’d like to believe you, but I’m your professor and I know that you’d never tell me if I was boring you to death,” you joked while you unlocked the front door and held it open for Steven. Your professor. Your professor. Your professor. The words rang in his head again and again. For a moment he had forgotten that that’s what you were, his professor at university, not a friend, not someone who was actually interested in him personally, you were just doing your job, or maybe a little more by being extra friendly and helpful. “Yeah,” he simply mumbled as he followed you up two flights of stairs until you reached another door, this one painted in a dark blue colour with a dark grey entrance mat in front of it. As soon as you pushed the door open a new scent hit Steven. It was something sweet and soft, vanilla, cinnamon. “I made some sahlab before I left today, would you like me to heat some up for you while I get the book?” It took Steven a moment to register your words, he was too preoccupied with looking through the flat. Stepping through the door he stood in a tiny hallway, barely big enough for one person, which was probably why you had already moved on to the next room. The hallway was painted in a neutral white, but jackets, scarves, and various other items on a coat hanger, as well as an array of shoes underneath it, gave the room a splash of colour. Steven, you can’t just stay in the hallway forever, Marc’s familiar voice rang through his head. He caught sight of his alter in a tiny mirror next to the door where you had disappeared. And suddenly reappeared as you stuck your head into the hallway. “Steven? Sahlab?” Steven nodded before he could even consider your question. He took a few steps until he found himself standing in your kitchen, which was similar to the hallway in the sense that it was also tiny and very neutral, but this time rather than clothes giving the room a personal note it was pictures. At least a dozen different photographs and postcards were pinned to your fridge while a huge poster of different Greek gods and goddesses hung above the small table. “Here you go,” you said as you handed him a mug that smelled even more like vanilla and cinnamon than the rest of the flat. “Sorry, but what exactly is this?” Steven asked. He was well aware that he probably should have asked earlier, but there were just so many other more interesting things to look at. “It’s a middle eastern drink, kinda like hot chocolate but instead of chocolate it’s vanilla and a dash of cinnamon. I think it tastes like a hug,” you admitted with a sheepish grin. Steven leaned closer to get another whiff of the drink, but he didn’t take a sip just yet. “I’m a vegan,” he blurted out instead. He avoided looking at you, didn’t want to see your probably disappointed expression and instead looked out the window, which didn’t exactly provide a great view, since it faced a wall. “It’s soy milk,” you said, though your voice was almost drowned out by the sound of you rummaging through the cupboards. “Aha, found it!.” A short pause. “I just checked the vanilla extract, it’s vegan as well, you’re safe to drink it. If you want that is, you don’t have to.” While you were talking Steven had turned around to face you again, only to find you staring into your own mug rather than at him. He didn’t know what to say and decided that the best option would be to simply take a sip. Before he could say anything about the drink though, which really did taste like a hug, you disappeared again. Deciding it would be rude to follow you, Steven stayed where he was, and instead focused on the pictures on your fridge. “She’s been all over the world,” he muttered, whether more to himself or to Marc he wasn’ sure. “It was mostly for work. More often than not I’d go straight to a museum from the airport, usually some dusty old archive in the basement, and see little else other than the museum, my hotel room, and the airport.” Steven hadn’t heard you coming back into the kitchen, he was too preoccupied with snaps of different exhibits and especially one of you in front of the Louvre’s glass pyramid, though his focus wasn’t on the pyramid itself, but on you, with sunglasses on your face and a huge grin on your lips. “Here’s the book I promised you,” you said, breaking the silence and bringing a blush to Steven’s face. Once again he forced himself to remember that, no matter how kind and hospitable you were being, you were still his professor, not a friend he could exchange memories with. “I have some others you might be interested in, if you’d like to have a look,” you offered with a kind smile. Steven shook his head. He couldn’t. He was already imposing by simply being here, by invading your personal space, your home, and drinking in your kitchen. “I think this one should be enough,” he answered, though part of him longed to browse through your personal library, to find out more about you through the books you read and collect. He could hear Marc sighing in his head, but Steven stayed strong. It wouldn’t be right to take any more, of your books or your time, he had to draw a line between the two of you now, before it might be too late. “If you change your mind, just let me know. I’d be happy to let you look through my books or bring another one to my office for you.” Steven could have sworn there was a nervous aura around you, something that almost seemed like a desire to see him again. “You’re the first student who is interested in anything other than what they actually need to read. Actually, scratch that, you’re not just the first student but the first person since my own uni days.” Steven didn’t know what to say, so he settled for a simple nod. He knew the feeling, knew what it was like to be interested in something no one else seemed to care about, to finally find someone who you could share your passion with, someone who understood you in a way no other could. But why, why, why, why did that one person have to be his professor? His smart and clever, kind and beautiful professor? “I should go now. Thanks for the book, and the sahlab.” Another kind smile graced your lips as you exchanged words of goodbye. Once out the door Steven took a deep breath. “This might not be what you want to hear right now, but I think she really likes you,” Marc told Steven, who couldn’t help a cruel laugh from escaping his lips. “Even if she does, she’s the one woman I cannot have. I need this degree and can’t afford to do anything to screw this up.” He didn’t add that he felt like he had screwed up so much in his life already, that he saw this as his last chance to make something of himself, his last chance at a normal, happy life. He didn’t have to say any of that, he had a feeling Marc knew, and understood. “I’ll just read this book, give it back to her, and that’s it. Then I’ll go back to being just another student.”

-------

I have part of the story planned out already, so I’m hoping that the next part should be up within a week or so. 

As always, thank you for reading and feedback is greatly appreciated (I’m also open to ideas in what direction you’d like the story to go) <3

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #steven grant imagine #Steven Grant #moon knight x y/n #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #Moon Knight #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n

[akepalsson]

WEEK 1 —Training Challenge: Introduce your rider.

A little late but I wanted to join the fun @thescorpioracesfestival

The salty wind hits my face, but it doesn’t bother me. I’ve grown used to it, everyone who spends their time on this beach has. 

“What are you doing here?”

I turn around to see Isadora Levy, the woman who lives next door to us. Isadora and her husband are good family friends and when Mom went to the mainland they made sure my brother and I were well-fed.

“Waiting for them to come out.” is my unusually short reply, and my gaze returns to the ocean.

Isadora sighs, but she sits on the small cliff next to where I’ve been sitting for hours now. She's wearing her best clothes, which can only mean she's going to Skarmouth, to the church, or maybe the shops. When you don't have to worry about money, those are the kinds of activities you can do in your day-to-day life.

“Don't you have to go to work?” Isadora insists, moving her legs, which are dangling from the cliff. She can tell I’m focused, usually, our dynamic is reversed: I’m the one asking questions and bothering her, while Isadora is calm and collected. Maybe it’s too early for me to be talking a lot. 

“I start in an hour.” I shake my head and she seems to understand, for her face shows no concern. I keep explaining. “I've been coming to the beach early since the beginning of October, waiting.”

“What exactly do you plan to do?” Is her question, because she knows what I'm talking about. Everyone on the island knows it.

“I just want to be the first to see them.”

See them. Them, the capaill uisce. The famous killer horses, who emerge from the sea of ​​Scorpio once autumn begins. Those fearsome horses, gigantic in comparison to a normal animal, which only the strongest of men can tame into their mounts during the annual race, the Scorpio Races, Thisby's foremost event.

“Well, Amber,” Isadora says my name with her weird accent. She's not from Thisby but she's not from the mainland either, she comes from an island not far away that she doesn't like to talk about. “We’re only through the first week of October, I’m almost sure that there is still time for the first capall to emerge.”

I know, but I don't want to miss it. I feel the need to pout, but I don't. I'm practically an adult now, I shouldn't be pouting anymore, much less at someone like Isadora.

Before Isadora says something like ‘You don't want to lose your job either,’ I stand up from the cliff, moving away from where she was sitting. Isadora follows me and we both walk off together, me heading to Malvern’s Yard and Isadora to somewhere in Skarmouth.

“You’re not thinking of joining the races, are you?” Isadora questions me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I smile back at her, she just shakes her head in disappointment but she knew that already, there was no need to ask. “Amber, why are you putting your life at risk? Isn’t it already enough working with those demonic horses in your daily life? Must you also do this?”

“It’s going to be fine, Isadora.” I put my hair in a high ponytail as we walk, the loose blonde curls hanging on my face aren’t exactly comfortable for cleaning horse shit all day, so a ponytail is the best option. “Besides, the money would suit me well.”

“You’re doing this for the money? Oh, Amber. There are better ways to get it than this, the races are practically a suicide!”

“You have so little faith in me, Isa.” 

Isadora sighs, she’s not in the mood for this. “You better than anyone knows how dangerous the races are.”

She’s right, so I shut my mouth. Isadora is referring to my brother, who died in the races years ago. Since then I’ve been taking after his job and his capall, as me and my dad need the money he used to bring. I’m too fond of the horse to sell it and my brother loved the animal so I can’t just let it go like that. Besides, maybe he can help me with my plans of joining the race.

“Amber, if I can’t change your mind, the least I can do is pray for you.” Isadora keeps saying, holding her hands together. “May the ocean watch you, Amber Goode, we need you alive here.”

#also hiii this is me introducing amber #maybe i'll write her story after this ends who knowsss #the scorpio races #the scorpio races festival #tsrf2022 #tsrf #my writing #amber goode #isadora levy

[milkywaygg]

Time’s Passing Ch 5

After he had finished washing up, Darren met Linnie at the dinner table, as he placed down two plates with a grilled chicken and a side of mixed vegetables with corn, peas, and carrots, alongside sets of silverware and a glass of water on Linnie’s end.

“Darren, what would like to drink dear? I’ve got some juices if you’d like, and some iced tea in the fridge.”, Linnie said.

“You don’t have any soda?”

“I’m afraid not dear. I don’t really drink much of that stuff.”

“Man, you really don’t know how to much have do you?”, Darren mumbled his breathe before clearing his throat, “I guess iced tea then.”

“Sure hun.”, Linnie replied, pouring some into another glass cup, handing it to Darren as he sat down. The two of them went on to enjoy their dinner in silence for a few moments, Darren trying to work up the nerve to talk to Linnie about what had been on his mind, until finally, he decided to just go for it.

“Dad? Can we talk about something?”, Darren started, “It’s about what you said earlier.”

“Oh dear, did I say something to hurt you? I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t mean-“

“No it ain’t nothing like that. I just wanted to ask you something.”, Darren said, before a knock on the door interrupted them.

“Oh sorry dear, can it wait? I’m going to go see who it is.”, Linnie said, throwing a napkin over his food to maintain its warmth as he left the table and opened the apartment door, revealing a little girl, who didn’t seem to look any older than 5. The girl had beautifully straight, mid-length blond hair, and matching, teary-eyed eyes. She wore a pink dress and was holding a teddy bear, clutching it close to her as she looked as if she was going to break down any moment.

“Awww hello there sweetheart. What’s your name? Where’s your mommy and daddy, hm?”, Linnie asked gently, kneeling down to the child’s eye level, “Are you lost?”

“M-Mister, I lost my Aunt! My mommy and daddy are gone for the week and I forgot which room she lives in! Can you help me?”, the little girl cried, making Linnie’s heart melt. Poor thing must be scared out of her mind right now.

“Oh now there there, darling. I’m sure you Aunt isn’t too far. Please don’t cry sweetheart. It’ll be ok. Uhm…here, why don’t I walk you down to the front office and we can ask whoever working there. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to help.”, Linnie said, smiling sympathetically at the child, as her crying stopped, but her sniffling continued somewhat.

“O-Ok Mister.”, the girl squeaked, as Linnie got up.

“Darren, I’ll be right back. I’m just going to go help her really quick.”, Linnie called out as he shut the door behind him, leading the child towards the elevator.

“Do you want to press the buttons, dear? I know how much you kids just love it when you do.”, Linnie giggled, only for the girl to shake her head.

“N-No, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Awww sweetie, you’re no trouble at all. I’m more than happy to help you. Come on then.”, Linnie pressed the down arrow before the two of them hopped onto the elevator, pressing the lobby button as they entered, “Sweetheart, what’s your name so I can ask if anyone’s looking for you?”

“Dani..”

“Well Dani, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Linnie.”, he smiled kindly as the elevator landed on the lobby floor. Next to the receptionist desk however, Linnie spotted a woman with the same color hair as Dani’s, only tied into a ponytail. She stood about shoulder-length compared to Linnie’s height, and wore a yellow suit jacket and tie, and black pants, almost as if she were going on a business trip. Also like Linnie, reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, alongside a relieved look.

“Dani, there you are! Thank the stars.”, the woman exclaimed, hugging the child before standing back up, looking at the man, “Dani, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

“Aunt Delia, he’s not my stranger! His name’s Linnie!”, Dani cheered, making Linnie giggle slightly, absolutely adoring her cuteness.

“Ok, but what do we address other adults, Dani?”

“Sorry, Mr Linnie. He helped me find you. I like him.”, Dani cheered, hugging her aunt, who smiled at Linnie.

“Thank you so much for finding her. I wasn’t sure where she was or even how she got out, and then I realized that I forgot to lock my door, haha. I’ve just been so backed up on work recently that I barely had any time for myself. I’m Delia, by the way.”

“Linnie. It’s nice to meet you. You have a lovely family and your niece is absolutely adorable. She reminds me of when my daughter was little.”, Linnie smiled, recalling those memories, “She used to cling to my side all the time if we were both home together, and if I was in a room doing something, she’d want to join right in haha. I really miss those times.”

“Oh really? Where’s your daughter now?”

“She’s off touring with her band, The Killer Fairies. She was in town earlier so I was grateful I got to see her for a few minutes before she left.”, Linnie smiled sadly, “I’m glad she’s doing what she loves, but I just wish she could have stayed a bit longer.”

“I understand. It can be hard moving on sometimes.”, Delia agreed, “Well, thank you again for finding her and we’re really sorry if we disturbed anything important.”

“Oh no, Dani’s just an absolute sweetheart. She was no trouble, I promise.”, Linnie smiled, before clearing his throat, “Um..I know this is all of the sudden, but do you maybe want to uhm…get together sometime?”

“Like a date?”

“Well..I mean not necessarily like a date-date. Just…you know…I think it’d be nice if we got to know each other a bit, since I heard you just recently moved in. It is the neighborly thing to do after all haha.”, Linnie stuttered, started to get nervous, and feeling his cheeks grow rosier by the second. Delia chuckled at his timidity.

“Sure, whatever you say.”, Delia said, pulling out a business card from her jacket pocket, “Here’s my number. I usually only give them out for business, but I think I can spare just one.”

“Haha, well I need to get back upstairs. Call me later?”

“You betcha. Have a good night Linnie and thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Bye sweetie!”, Linnie waved goodbye to Dani before he took the elevator back upstairs, rejoining Darren at the apartment. Instead of sitting at the table like he was earlier, Darren had already finished his meal, put his plates in the sink, and was watching the TV in the living room before he noticed Linnie come back in.

“Yeesh, what took you so long? What, did you sail to Anti-Fairy World and back or something?”, Darren asked, smirking as he tried to mess with his father.

“Oh sorry Darren, I didn’t expect to be gone as long as I was.”, Linnie said, grabbing his plate of food and tossing it in the microwave, heating it up for him to eat, “I just ran into that little girl’s aunt and she and I got a little chatty, haha.”

“Sounds like it. You seem to be in a rather good mood right now.”

“Well, I’m just glad I got to help when I can, let’s just say.”, Linnie said, “So, you wanted to talk to me about something, dear? You had something you wanted to ask me?”

“Err…I kind of forgot it. You know what, don’t worry about it. It was kind of stupid anyways.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need to be afraid to talk to me about anything, dear. You know I’m here for you.”

“Yeah I’m sure.”

“Alright then.”, Linnie said quietly, continuing his meal, “Hey, would you mind doing me a favor tomorrow while I’m at work? I plan on ordering groceries tonight so if you could make a list tonight of things you might need and then picking them up tomorrow, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Yeah sure.”, Darren said lazily, clearly invested in the TV. Linnie smiled warmly as he finally finished his meal, and placing the plates in the dishwasher, getting ready to head to the computer to start the grocery order, smiling at the thought of Delia’s niece. It reminded him of the time when he was a first time parent, and has only recently started his career at the nursery. He felt so vibrant and warm, caring and helping the baby fairies who needed him. He was also reminded to all them times he held his children when they were scared, or all the times he would tuck them in a night….oh, if only there were a way for him to do it all over again…minus Nora of course.

#fairly oddparents #fanfiction #drama

[cassurrjoybell-30]

Cry Me a River - Chapter 30 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

The Duke's Estate

"Here we are," Alastair murmured as he approached the intimidating, stone door with a careless knock.

The door flew open, revealing a blond-haired maid.

"Can I help you, good Sir?" she asked.

"Why yes, you may show me to your master," she seemed stunned by Alastair's response.

"Master's very busy. Perhaps you can..."

"Now," Alastair's smile seemed slightly frightening.

The maid flinched.

She peered behind her before turning back to us.

"May I ask your name, good Sir?"

"Alastair."

Her eyes widened considerably as she dropped to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. I hadn't realized it were you in your..."

Alastair cut off her ranting with a hand.

"That's alright."

She stood up from the ground carefully, eyeing me as she did.

'What did I do?'

"I don't think master would appreciate you bringing your bed-mate in with you to meet..."

Alastair's narrowed eyes caused her to cut short as she swallowed, rubbing her hands against her maid uniform.

"C-come in," she waved us in with a hand to which Alastair followed and took seat in the nearest chair.

I laid in his lap, head against his chest as I watched the maid.

She stood by the stairs, peering up as if awaiting something.

What is she looking for?

The sound of heels suddenly interrupted the silence.

It grew closer and closer until a pair of golden heels could be seen coming down the staircase.

I watched as a tall blond came down the stairs.

Her hair was in a loose, curled ponytail as she held her golden pink dress up, walking slowly down the flight of stairs as if afraid of tripping and tumbling the rest of the way down.

"Alastair," she breathed as her eyes locked on Alastair's sitting form.

A widened smile grew on her face.

"Aah, it's been far too long."

She stepped down the last step, making her way towards us with an outstretched hand to which Alastair took in his and laid a small kiss.

I felt my stomach drop slightly.

"You as well, Lady Beatrice," his eyes shone.

'Who was she...? Another past conquest?'

"Oh, and who is this?"

I was expecting a venomous tone but she just appeared pleasantly surprised as she bent down to lock eyes with mine.

"This is my mate, River."

He rubbed my back in a soothing manner as he peered down at me,

"River, this is my good friend Lady Beatrice. We've been friends since school days."

"N-nice t-to m-meet y-you," I stuttered.

I wasn't very good with meeting new people.

"Aww," she screeched to which I covered my ears with a whimper.

'Goddess damn, banshee.'

"Oh. Meet my mate."

She clapped her hands as she reached her hand out.

I was expecting a dashing man but instead, a small, dark-skinned girl appeared behind her, a dark tattoo could be visible on her hand as she took her hand in hers with a timid smile.

'A slave.'

"Aah, a slave?" Alastair raised a brow.

"Your brother won't approve..."

"My brother no longer lives," Beatrice interjected.

"What do you mean 'he no longer lives'?"

The air became highly suffocating as Alastair tensed beneath me.

"He grew ill months ago and died weeks later in his sleep. The fever overtook him," she choked, cupping his mouth with her hand as the small, chocolate-skinned woman wrapped her arms around her waist.

"I see."

Alastair seemed oddly off.

"Who takes charge of the town then?"

"Beatrice has been attempting to run it on her own," Beatrice's mate spoke as she brushed her fingers through her mate's hair, attempting to calm her as she sobbed on her shoulder.

"So that's why there's so much havoc," Alastair mumbled to himself.

"How have you been dealing with the rebels?" Alastair continued.

"R-rebels?" Beatrice choked.

"What is he talking about Anna?"

Beatrice turned to her mate with a quizzical look as she rubbed at her eyes profusely.

"I didn't want to frighten you Be Be, so I've been taking care of it on my own," Anna said softly as she fixed Beatrice's disheveled hair.

"You're not doing a very good job," Alastair interjected.

"From what I've seen the rebels have been running free."

Anna sighed.

"I'm doing the best I can with what I have, Your Majesty..."

"Alastair."

"Alastair," she continued.

"Our men are short in numbers and our generals have long since run away."

"I see," Alastair sighed.

"I have my work cut out for me."

[fever-dreamer-and-crying]

how i see each god, aka, how each olympian presents themselves to me <333

(color coded by how close i am to each god, red is low closeness, yellow is medium closeness, green is high closeness)

zeus, a strong man yet with not the most defined muscles, short, curly cloud grey beard and hair, electric blue eyes

hera, a short, thin woman who appears to be in her mid-30's to early 40's who has long, straight red-brown hair.

apollo, a tall, lean man with wavy sunshine blond hair and sky blue eyes

artemis, a tall, muscular woman with resting bitch face that has waist-length deep, dark black hair

athena, a tall, somewhat muscular and lean woman who wears a falconry glove to handle her pet owl, who has short black hair in a ponytail

aphrodite, a curvy, sexy looking woman with long, wavy, thick honey blonde hair.

ares, a muscular man wearing ancient greek armor, wielding a quiver and sheathes for multiple weapons

demeter, an average height woman with some light curves and mid-back length pale brown hair that waves slightly

dionysus, a slightly taller than average man with a feminine frame and black wavy shoulder length hair that has a blueish tint in the sunlight

hades, an extremely tall man with porcelain white skin, waist length black hair that is always straight and almost never tangles, wielding a scimitar and covered in thousands upon thousands of dollars of pure gold jewelry

hephaestus, an average height man who has an odd mix of dad-bod and physically fit as his body type, has a facial deformity where his eyes are a bit too large, his eyebrows always look slightly scrunched together, and a slightly crooked nose with a kink in the bridge

hestia, an extremely short polite looking woman who always carries with her a candle or two in an candleholder

hermes, a short, lean young adult-looking man with freckles on his nose, cheeks, shoulders, and large snow white feathered wings

poseidon, a muscular man with long, wet shoulder length hair

persephone, a short, sweet/polite looking girl with thick, wavy, long pale ginger hair.

please, feel free to reblog and post about how you see the gods, they come to everyone in all different shapes and forms so not many have duplicates <3333

#greek gods #hellenistic #hellenistic gods #how the gods appear to me #fever's dreaming again

[beinfriends]

muse: Venus

BASICS

▸ is your muse tall/short/average? She's pretty tall for a woman! 5'10". ▸ what’s their hair like? Long, blond hair, kinda wavy. She takes very, very good care of it. She usually has it up in a ponytail if she isn't performing. ▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? YES. Venus cares a lot about her appearance/makeup/hair/etc. If there's something to worry about, then she's worried about it. It does pay off; she's a beautiful woman either way, but still. ▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? Not really. Venus has a healthy self esteem, and a bit of an ego. She knows what she thinks about herself. She knows she has talent, she knows she is beautiful, so she doesn't sweat what others think. Only person whose opinion she cares about in that regard is her mom's.

PREFERENCES

▸ indoors or outdoors? Indoors, generally. She's not a big outdoorsy type, and is a city girl through and through, so a more rural place like Tazmily isn't her speed. Too bad, lol. ▸ rain or sunshine? Sunshine. She doesn't like rainy/wet weather at all. ▸ forest or beach? Beach. Venus strikes me as the type who'd love visiting the beach for sunbathing and swimming-- if she could get away from paparazzi and fans, of course. ▸ precious metals or gems? Gems, I suppose. Venus strikes me as having a flashy style, and she likes gems more than gold or silver. ▸ flowers or perfumes? Perfume. ▸ personality or appearance? Column A, column B. Venus would only want someone she finds attractive enough. She has to keep up appearances, after all, so she needs an attractive partner! But there's still gotta be a CONNECTION. That's why Elmore works. She thinks Elmore is pretty AND they've got similar personality traits, so they click. ▸ being alone or being in a crowd? Being in a crowd, if just for the attention. Though, in general, Venus has always been a huge people person. It's why she loves performing so much. ▸ order or anarchy? Column A, column B. I think she enjoys a little chaos, but not to excess, and vice versa. ▸ painful truths or white lies? Painful truths. Venus is a pretty blunt, if not a "brutally honest" person at times. She'd rather be straightforward, though that's not to say that she's above white lies as necessary. ▸ science or magic? I don't think she cares. Science, she supposes. ▸ peace or conflict? Killing! Violence! But really, peace. She's tired of having to watch crazy shit happen. She went through the War Against Giygas and then got dumped on Nowhere to watch all the crazy Pigmask and Dragon shit go down. She's tired, man. Let's be peaceful. ▸ night or day? Both. She loves the daytime, loves to do things, but is used to performing/working in the evening, which she loves just as much. Plus, she likes to go out on the town in the evening just as much. ▸ dusk or dawn? Dusk. She's not a morning person. She's rarely up to see the dawn unless she has something planned in the early morning. ▸ warmth or cold? Warmth. Twoson, where she was born, Fourside, where she lived as an adult, and Tazmily, where she lives now, all strike me as generally warm/hot places, and she feels comfortable with that. She hates to be cold. ▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? Many acquaintances. Venus just loves to have a million friends and acquaintances-- she's all about building connections, which is necessary in the kind of industries she's worked in. That's not to say that she doesn't have close friends, especially now. She's close friends with the guys in DCMC, particularly OJ. ▸ reading or playing a game? Reading. I feel like Venus is the type to not respect video games, and she doesn't seem like a board game type either. Maybe poker at most.

QUESTIONNAIRE

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? Blunt, a bit rude to people, at times laziness, sleeps in way too late (<-- writer is literally a guy who wakes up at noon every day he doesn't work LMAO but this ain't about me) ▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? If you count Venus being trapped centuries in the future from the 1990s, then yes, she lost her mom (whom she was extremely close to) and all her friends and everyone she ever knew back home. ▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? Probably being signed on a label, her first concert, hanging out with the Runaway Five, being able to pay off her mom's bills... stuff like that. ▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? Venus should be allowed to kill. As it stands, NO??? ▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? Oh man. I feel like Venus likely seems like she's untouchable emotionally, just an utterly unshakable woman. But she can break down, she can be vulnerable. It'd probably be a lot of crying, she'd isolate herself unless she was with her mom, and then immediately try to put herself back together because she doesn't really let herself be vulnerable like that. ▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? Yes, I think so. It isn't like she doesn't trust people. She has people she loves and trusts deeply, and that's that. ▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? Read A Change of Heart chapter 3 and find out KRJFHN. But really, she's like... she probably drops heavy hints and flirts a lot. She's also super affectionate, though she's also just... kinda like that in general? It's hard to tell, but there IS a difference. The affection is the big thing, though. You'll get a lot more sincerity out of her too.

tagged: old meme tagging: steal

#Good Work [TAGGED] #Venus [ABOUT] #Deeper Into the Subconscious [HEADCANONS] #( i love Veen so much she's one of my faves honestly ) #( i just Think She's Neat )

[officiallyashley]

Strange Behavior (. fairy tail .)

SUMMARY: Natsu and Happy find it weird that Ashley is avoiding alcohol. 

NOTES: this actually may be more of a drabble than a oneshot but whatevs 🤷🏻‍♀️. i’m really tired rn, so this may not be my best lol. apologies, if that’s the case! this is also one of my older works, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy it! also, if you remember or if you just don't know, my oc is in a poly relationship with natsu, gray, and erza.

WARNINGS: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol. 

{~~~}

���YOU’RE AVOIDING ALCOHOL?!” 

Natsu and Happy almost couldn’t believe it. Ashley Fayn Reverie was refusing alcohol. While responsible with her adult beverages, this woman loved alcohol and frequently had glasses of wine every other day. The pink-haired male and his blue cat companion blinked in shock. That was a sentence they weren’t expecting to come out of Ash’s mouth. 

“Yes, I’m avoiding alcohol. What’s the big deal?” Ash questioned nonchalantly. The guild master shrugged their shoulders. 

“It’s just odd that you’re cutting out alcohol,” Natsu stated.

“Aye, sir! I agree!” Happy agreed with Natsu.

“I just don’t want alcohol. There’s nothing more to it.” Ash said, pulling her ash-blonde hair up in a high ponytail. Despite what they had said, there was definitely more to why they made the decision to take a break from alcohol. A huge break from alcoholic beverages. Ashley was… scared of what her lovers would say if they found out. 

Natsu and Happy had a look of scrutiny on their faces. It was like they didn’t believe what Ash was saying. Which they didn’t. “Hmmm…” Natsu and Happy hummed in unison. 

Ash raised a brow as they tightened their ponytail. “What?” They inquired putting their hands on their hips. 

“I thought you’d want to celebrate us finishing our job with some wine and chocolate.” Natsu pointed out. 

Ash didn’t know what to say at first, so their response was slightly delayed. “Um, just… not this time.” Ash yawned, the fatigue that she has been feeling for the past few days starting to really hit her hard. “I’m gonna go lay down. I’m really tired.” Without another word, the ash-blonde went to her and Natsu’s bedroom for the night. 

{~~~}

Later that night, Ash had been woken up by a sudden wave of nausea in the middle of the night. She glanced tiredly at the clock on the nightstand. 3:20 AM. Ash broke out of Natsu’s embrace he had around her waist, slowly and silently making her way out of bed. Every time she moved, another wave of nausea would hit harder, making her head spin and her stomach churn. 

Ash clasped her hand over her mouth. They felt the bile start to creep up their throat, saliva gathering in their mouth. Ash rushed out of bed, slamming the bathroom door open and rushing to the toilet. They didn’t even bother turning the lights on. Ash started throwing up into the toilet, her eyes watering and tears falling out and dropping into the toilet. 

The bathroom lights were flipped on. She felt someone start to rub circles on her back as she threw up. It was Natsu, who knelt down beside her. There was concern written in his features. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” Natsu comforted his girlfriend as she continued puking up her dinner from the previous night. 

When there was a break where Ash felt they weren’t going to puke their guts out, they grabbed the washcloth that was resting on the sink. Wiping their mouth, Ash leaned away from the toilet. There was a silence that filled the air, and the atmosphere was growing slightly tenser with every passing second. That was until Natsu decided to speak up. 

“Ash, you’ve been acting strange.” Natsu pointed out. His voice was in a whisper, considering the fact that Happy was asleep on the small chair in their room. 

Ash stayed silent. They didn’t respond at first. What were they supposed to say?  No matter what they said, or how they phrased the next sentence to leave their mouth, it didn’t make it any less terrifying. The ash-blonde’s words were stuck in her throat. 

“Ashley, I need you to talk to me,” Natsu stated, attempting to make eye contact with his partner. Ash, however, averted her gaze. No one ever called her ‘Ashley’ in passing. The only time Ash was being addressed as ‘Ashley’ was in serious moments. Natsu was being serious, and Ash knew that by more than just the tone of his voice. 

That’s when her hormones got the best of her. Ashley just started crying. It wasn’t in Ash’s character to be this emotional, so the ash-blonde immediately bursting out into tears definitely alarmed the pinkette mage. She sobbed while leaning on the toilet, hot tears streaming down her face. “I’m pregnant…” They muttered. 

Natsu blinked. He was stunned into silence, and by the looks of it, Ash took her lover’s silence the wrong way. “Oh, god, I knew it! You’re not happy or excited, are you?!” Ash wailed out heartbrokenly. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing out of her eyes. 

Natsu’s eyes widened. He knelt down to Ash’s level, and he put his forehead to hers. “Ashley, this is the best moment of my life,” Natsu whispered comfortingly, grinning widely. 

Ash didn’t know what else to do other than hug Natsu, who hugged her back. Her tears of anxiety and worry became tears of happiness and relief. Natsu kissed the ash-blonde’s forehead. “Wait until we tell Gray and Erza and the rest of the Guild!” Natsu beamed gleefully. 

“They’ll… They’ll be so happy!” Ash cried, her tears continuing to flow from her eyes and down her cheeks. Words couldn’t even begin to describe how elated and exhilarated the couple was. Natsu wiped Ash’s tears away from her cheeks.  

“Ashley Fayn Reverie, I love you so much. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to be parents.” Natsu commented, engulfing his girlfriend in a tight hug once again. 

“Natsu…” Ash blinked back tears, hugging the Fire Dragon Slayer just as tight as he was embracing her.  

“Cheer up, babe! We’re having a baby!” Natsu beamed. He started giving kisses to Ash’s neck and down to her shoulder. 

“I’m just… I’m just relieved that you didn’t get mad or upset…” Ash mumbled as they pulled away from the embrace. 

Natsu wiped the guild master’s remaining tears away. “I would never ever be upset at something as amazing as you having my kid.” The Fire Dragon Slayer said, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “Do you need anything before we go back to bed, babe?” 

Ashley shook their head. They both stood up from the bathroom floor, and Ashley reached over to the toilet handle and pressed down on it to flush the toilet. “I’m fine. I just want to go to bed honestly. Before I go back to bed, though, I need to brush my teeth.” Ash responded, her voice becoming more steady in tone. 

“Alright, babe! If you need anything, let me know! I’ll be waiting for you in bed.” Natsu said, pulling her in for one last kiss on her temple before leaving the bathroom. 

After Ash finished brushing her teeth, she eagerly climbed back into bed with her loving and excitable boyfriend. Natsu wrapped his arms around their waist, pulling them closer to him. Ash’s back was up against Natsu’s chest, and the spiky-haired mage buried his face in their shoulder. Now, Ash knew that she didn’t have to worry. She could fall asleep in her lover’s arms knowing everything was going to be okay.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 © 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘆 2022. 𝗶 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗮. 𝗶 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀, 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀, 𝗲𝘁𝗰. 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹.

#fairy tail #fairy tail oc #fairy tail oc: ashley fayn reverie #officiallyashley #ash x erza x natsu x gray #ash x natsu oneshot #ashley x natsu x gray x erza poly relationship #fairy tail oneshot #oc x natsu dragneel #natsu dragneel #ashley fayn reverie #fairy tail natsu #fairy tail ashley #ashwrites