#So she's at least in her 30s minimum

[backpackingspace]

listen listen I think Tim and Sasha should be in their 40s. And then you just have this obviously 20 something year old who's now THEIR BOSS claiming is 38 as if they can't spot a fresh out of college baby a mile away

#the magnus archives #timothy stoker #Sasha #jonathan sims #There's two peices of evidence for this first #Sasha “I've been in academy for ten years” #So she's at least in her 30s minimum #And “Sasha used the candles to spell out my real age” #Also you cannot convince me jon is any older than 28 and even then I'm like sounds fake man's is 25 #I will die on this hill #Martin “I'm only 29” Jon who's maybe 26 thank fuc #Plus the fact that most archivists in real life have a PhD so like if Sasha was qualified it would have taken AWHILE #also I just find this whole concept hilarious #Headcanons

[shorthaltsjester]

i do think there is a lack of autonomy for laudna in this piece of the story, but i also think that’s the point. she is dead, and in a typical case that’s the stripping of all autonomy. but in her case it isn’t just the limitation of her ability to make choices as a living agent in the world, it’s her subjugation to whatever hell delilah’s presence demands. right now it’s a fight for her to get autonomy, any choice she would’ve made within the confines of the delilah-void wouldn’t really be autonomous ones. realistically, most of laudna’s story this far has been about the fact that she doesn’t have autonomy, and hope to find some way to achieve it. we haven’t had many but she’s mentioned a hope to develop her magic somehow to sever her bond with delilah. and while laudna can obviously make her own decisions, she doesn’t exist as a fully autonomous person - delilah can intervene, can remind her not to talk too much about their shared history, can steal a rock from imogen’s hand, can call forth doubts that any of her friends would ever care about her in a way that matters. this demi plane isn’t about laudna’s choice, it’s about giving her the possibility to make one.

honestly, i think one of my favourite parts of the episode is the confrontation that bells hells have with all these versions of laudna that call into question what they can know about her. obviously that reinforces the fact that they can’t make choices for her, but it also emphasizes all of these visions as contorted pieces of laudna, defined by their placement both in the past and in the hands of delilah’s manipulation. it undermines imogen’s knowledge of laudna, “matilda?” “who is this?” and it also undermines ashton’s knowledge of laudna, causing him to momentarily flip from We Can’t Focus On The Past to “tell her it’ll hurt.” and arguing to keep following the shadows. this part isn’t laudna’s story, but that doesn’t make her a plot piece or a non-agent, I don’t think marisha would’ve been called back to the table for such a small scene - that, though impactful, wasn’t necessarily Essential - if that was true.

anyway, tldr, i think we’ll get to see laudna’s story and her autonomy in the aftermath of whatever happens going forward. now that she maybe has autonomy - or perhaps even if she still doesn’t have it, how that informs her life is something i think has to be explored in her Life, not her death.

#this is more about my own feelings and thoughts than anything #bc i was curious and hesitant about this arc if it was going to be Save Laudna deal with consequences #like getting btvs s6 willow and buffy vibes #and i mean i Adore that kind of storyline so i would’ve been down #but i don’t think that’s what’s happening here #Especially not after that conversation where #no laudna doesn’t say Save me and she doesn’t say I’ll Fight #but she is hanging on a tree in a cage on a death plane #i don’t think she has to affirm imogen’s We’re Here #laudna in fact pushes off her choice #her autonomy Doesn’t matter to her #because she hasn’t had it in 30 years. minimum #her journey is about discovering autonomy not weilding it #at least not yet #cr3 #critical role #cr meta #laudna meta #laudna #bell’s hells #cr speculation #cr spoilers

[the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis]

.

#this is it capitalism has killed me #send help #at least i'm not my coworker who was on her seventh consecutive day of minimum nine hour shifts today #she was Delirious #but also i'm so so tired #if i've been incoherent recently #this is why #i'm so tired #i've been Barely Keeping It Together since august #and somehow it's almost the end of october?? #which just means my work schedule's about to get WORSE #october 30 baby #that weekend is going to kill me #i Will be a zombie for halloween and it will Not be a costume #game on the 28 #football game on the 29 (which is the literal definition of hell! by the way!) #(all football stadiums are cursed!) #(but especially the concessions stands!) #and then there's TWO games back to back on the 30th #and then one of my final papers is due on the 31! which is fInE #i'm going to cry #okay sorry i'm done rambling about my shitty job #i'll delete this later if i remember #gonna go cry now

[p1xelpc]

Why Life is a Tragedy

[ Plain text: Why Life is a Tragedy ]

My daily routine is usually very empty. Most days it goes like this:

My mother brings me my breakfast at 8. That consists of yogurt with berries and granola, protein shake, and a cup of strawberry milk (a small cup, so I don’t upset my stomach).

She says good morning and helps me rearrange myself if I’m awake. If I’m not, she goes to her office across the hall.

I take about 15 minutes to actually work up the energy to eat and take my meds. I play Wordle while I wait.

If I feel up to it, I go to the bathroom, change my diaper, use hand sanitizer, and wash my face. Some days I may brush my teeth with a toothbrush and water. Those are rare days.

After I finish, I stay in my bathroom chair for 5-10 minutes while I work up the energy to get back to bed.

When I do get back to bed, I decide what activities I will do that day.

If I feel up to it, I set up my activities around my legs so that I can do it when I’m ready. If I don’t, I ask mama if she can set up when she gets the chance.

I play on my phone and socialize on Tumblr and Discord. I try to do my activity.

I do that until lunch. Taking breaks every 5-30 minutes depending on the activity.

Lunch is around 12. It has been hard boiled egg whites, cucumber slices, and a small cheese recently. Soon it may change to a prepackaged lunch with crackers, ham, cheese, and mini cookies. I get another (small) cup of something other than water. 

After I eat, I decide what activity I will do for the rest of the day and try to set it up. I usually do not succeed and need mama to come help.

I play on my phone and socialize on Tumblr and Discord. I try to do my activity.

I do that until mama finishes work. She comes in to take my dirty dishes and she asks what I want for dinner. I want pasta please. She goes to make pasta.

I continue my activity.

She brings me my pasta and another (small) cup of something other than water.

I eat.

I do not do an activity. I may watch TV. I play on my phone and socialize on Tumblr and Discord.

At 8:00 mama comes to help me to the bathroom. After I finish, she comes in to help me wash my hands, wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on my Testosterone gel. We talk the whole time.

I go to bed. Mama helps get me situated. She helps me take my meds.

After mama closes the curtain, I play on my phone until around 10.

I go to sleep.

On weekends my days are different. Mama has to help me shower at least once (usually Sunday). That takes about 1-2 hours total. I need a lot of help.

Some days I have doctor appointments. I take around 45 minutes to get ready. It usually takes 15 minutes to get to the office. The appointments usually last an hour, not including wait time. After I get home, I lay in bed for the rest of the day and do not use the bathroom that night (I am too tired).

I cannot leave the house most days. There are many days I can barely leave my bed. Some days I cannot leave my bed at all. My usual pain level is at minimum a 6. I cannot speak, only make funny sounds. I require at least 2 forearm crutches to walk safely. I usually need a wheelchair to move. I cannot leave the house without my ear defenders on. I take a fully packed backpack everywhere I go. I need support to sit up and to stay sitting.

My hobbies include coloring, playing video games, making disability aid designs, writing, reading, and baking. My favorite animal is a Triceratops, though I only like the cartoonish designs. I like fluffy animals. I love Bluey. I enjoy learning about disability related topics. I read children’s novels because they are what I understand. I love going to the zoo. I love going to the library. I enjoy warm weather with light wind. I enjoy dressing up and doing makeup. I love ice cream cake. On days with nice weather and good health, I like to go outside and just sit. 

I have 2 stuffed animals that I take everywhere (Jameson and Gerald). I have 1 that I take lots of places (Fred). I have 2 that usually stay on my bed, but travel if I’ll be gone for a while (Kougie and Melon). My favorite colors are yellow, pink, and green (no particular order). I use a light Bluey blanket, a light dino blanket, and a weighted blanket every night. I use at least Little Pillow every night (it has smiley faces). I have a cat shaped pillow for my neck. 

Did you decide if my life is worth living? Do you need more information? Do you think I’m tragic? Do you need to give your sympathy to my carer as if I don’t exist? Do you know my sense of humor? Do you know why I am loved? Do you know my limits? Do you know what I am capable of? Do you know what brings me joy? Do you know if I’m a person? Do you know my identity? Do you know who I am?

Do you know if I am happy? 

Do you care? 

This inspired by Unspeakable Conversations by Harriet McBride Johnson

#not know if people will understand #this the one that not know where going with #this the one that made cry #pix writing #disability #visible disability #high support needs #medium support needs #autism #nonverbal #physical disability #nonspeaking #wheelchair user #cripple punk #c punk #disabled #actually disabled #actually autistic #disability visibility

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Part 2

For my Bubs and @cyclingbigirl who demanded a part 2

Keira woke the next morning, you draped half over her body. Your right leg was across her lower half, your face was laying on her shoulders, your right arm was over her chest, gripping onto Keiras left sleeve. As carefully as she could, she fished her phone, making a selfie of you and her. She saw that she had 6 unread messages from Lucy, asking about her little sister and if everything was alright. The last message not even 15 Minutes old, so Keira decided to just respond with the picture. A minute later her phone vibrated again

Lucy: “Someone is cuddley”

Keira chuckled and texted back “Aren't all Bronzes cuddley around me?”

Lucy: “My Brother too, Keira?! Seriously? Don't you have any shame?”

Keira: “Maybe ;)”

Lucy: “Kinda disturbing, but whatever... she okay? You okay?”

Keira: “She misses you – a lot... just a fair warning.. she's not to keen on Ona, so keep their time spent together to a minimum in the beginning”

Lucy: “She doesn't even know Ona... what is her fucking Problem?”

Keira: “Language, Lucia... she doesn't really have a Problem. You know she always struggled with Change – she feels guilty for our breakup and just needs time to get used to you dating again”

Lucy: “I'm sorry... not only for the swearing – I think I didn't realized just how much it affected her... still affects her... thank you for watching out for her too, Kei... it really means the world to me”

Keira: “No need to thank me, Lucy... you know I love her just as much – so... brunch?”

Lucy: “You think you can get her up and presentable in an hour?”

Keira: “Oh please – I tell you the same as her yesterday... I'm not you – I'm not a push-over”

Lucy: “Oi!! I'm not a push-over”

Keira: “With her you always were... and still are”

Lucy: “One Hour starts now, Walsh... tick tock”

Keira laughed lightly, not even bother to respond, before she started to softly stroke over the younger Bronzes face.

“Wakey wakey” she whispered in your ear. Your nose scrunched up and you pressed your Face deeper into Keiras shoulder.

“Come on, Bitsy.. time for brunch” the older Woman said smiling, knowing that the promise of Food always gets the Bronze women going. Food and Caffeine. Your nose scrunched up again, but at least your head moves a little bit, looking sleepily at Keira.

“Breakfast?” you ask, your Voice thick with sleep.

“As soon as you up, showered and presentable” the older woman smiled.

“Noooo...” you whined sleepily, your head laying back on her shoulder.

“Yes” she said in the same tone as you “Your sister said you won't be presentable in an Hour... you really want to prove her right??”

Keira also knew, like the whole world does that the Bronze Family was highly competitive. You were up in a flash and a minute later Keira heard the Shower going. The older Woman laughed loudly, standing up herself, walking into the Kitchen starting on the Coffee.

15 Minutes later the youngest Bronze emerged from the Bathroom just covered in a Towel “Kei?? Clothes? Please?”

“I bet your Sister would be so happy to see you parading through town just covered by a short Towel ” Keira laughed “Here” she pushed a cup of Coffee in your Hands before walking back to her Bedroom looking for some Clothes.

She came back with a white T-shirt and some of her kit shorts “Up to wear my number for a change?” She smirked at you.

“Replacing the old Bronze with the newer, younger, sexier Model, are we?” you smirk back, but grab the offered shorts nonetheless.

45 Minutes later, Keira and y/n stood outside the little Place, Alexia mentioned the other day, waiting for the Rest of the Girls to arrive.

“Gosh she got so slow since she hit the 30” you rolled her eyes as your Sister obviously was late. Keira burst out laughing next to you.

“I don't think it has anything to do with her age...” she smirked, waiting for you to catch on. You look at her confused, until you realized what she implied, gagging loudly. The older woman laughing again loudly.

“You're her ex, you shouldn't talk about her having sex so easily... especially NOT with me” you gagged again.

“Who's having Sex?” a voice behind you asked, startling you.

“Speak of the Devil” you mumbled before turning around, your facial expression neutral “You're glowing... disgusting”

“Excuse me?” your Sister taken aback by your “greeting”

Keira just keeps on laughing, her hands on her sides, as she bends over trying to control herself. “You heard me, Arse Biscuits” you grumbled.

“Oi” your Sister said upset, taking a step towards you “watch your gob, wee shite”

Keira sensed that the two of you start to push each other so she interfered, knowing Ona – who arrived with your Sister – didn't know how to handle the two of you in situations like this.

“Both of you... take a step back” Keira said sharply. You and your Sister not reacting, staring at each other. You were so close to each other that your noses were nearly touching - Keira firmly said “Now!”

Lucy and you snapped out of it and you both took a step backwards. Keira looked at Ona, who stood there with a shocked Face “Don't worry... normal sibling behaviour between them – you just need to know when to intervene. And you need to be strict about it, because they're both hot headed and stubborn” she smiled.

“Okay” Ona said, her voice unsure, looking from Lucy to you and back.

“You'll get used to it” Keira chuckled and patted Onas back.

“You calm again?” Keira asked the two Bronze sisters

“Yes” both of them mumbled ashamed

“Good... then let's go inside, I need something to eat” Keira said, leading the Way.

Just as you all sat down, Mapí, Alexia, Ingrid, Patri and Pina joined the Group, all squishing themselves around the small table. Since the table was originally for four People and now there are nine, you got shoved around until you ended up getting placed on Lucys lap by Mapí, claiming she reserved the seat you were sitting on before you even arrived.

Lucy tried to shove you off her lap just for you to look at her with puppy eyes holding onto her shoulder “There no seats left”. Your Sister groaned, but laid her arm around your back

“The things I let you do” she rolled her eyes, but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her Mouth.

“Love you too, Luce” you mumbled quietly

She squeezed your Side lovingly, before joining the Conversation at the Table, while you just looked around the small Place, taking in the Atmosphere – the Conversation was in Spanish anyway, so it was not like you could follow it.

“Cariño?” Alexia looked at you expectantly as you looked at her confused.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I said?” the Barca captain looked amused

“No?” you admitted ashamed.

Alexia laughed before repeating her question “I asked for how long you're staying”.

“Oh... Mum said I can stay until Lucy gets tired of me...” you shrugged your Shoulders

Your Sister grabbed her Phone grinning “Wait, let me get an Uber for you”

“KEIRAAAA!!!” you yelled down the Table “LUCY IS MEAN AGAIN!!!!”

“Lucy!!” Keira scolded your Sister.

Lucy looked at you “You little backstabbing...”

Before she was able to finish you grinned wickedly, shouting again “KEIRA!!! She's calling me bad names”

“LUCIA!” Keira warned and Lucy knew it's getting to a point were she was in serious trouble.

“I didn't do anything!!!!” she defended herself annoyed.

Alexia just starred at the two of you, as you wore a shit eating grin your Sister looking like a kicked puppy, Mapí high-fiving you over Ingrid.

“You two are really children, aren't you?” the Barca captain asked amused.

“She brings out the worst in me” you grinned, taking your Sisters head into a headlock “Noogie!!” you laughed.

Lucy hugged your stomach, standing up, lifting you in Process, swearing at you, while you locking your legs around her waist. You didn't let go of her Head, laughing loudly as Lucy began to spin herself to get rid of you.

Meanwhile, Keira rolled her Eyes then looked at Ona “Now you should interfere... otherwise they will take the whole place down rough housing”

Ona looked at her shocked “Me?”

Keira grinned “Yeah you... they're your Problem now... welcome to the Bronze Family”

Mapí started to cheer you on while Ingrid tried to keep her in her seat so she wouldn't jump on Lucy to help you win. Ona tried to get your and Lucys attention, but it was no use, since she was still to reserved about you. Lucy managed to get you to let go of her, now having you in a light headlock. “Dear bloody Christ” Keira swore under her breath, turning to Ona “Watch and learn”

The Englishwoman stood up, walked over to the wrestling pair of Sisters and just grabbed both of you by the Ear before dragging you outside. Both of you stumble after Keira begging her to let go, but in secret you knew better that your plea would fall on deaf ears. Keira lead you outside the small restaurant, coming to a scattered halt outside.

“Are you two actually completely bloody mad??” she scolded the Sisters

“Sorry” you mumble and looked to the ground embarrassed

“You're going to be sorry, y/n Bronze... Mapí won't be the only one doing laps today” Keira said angry before turning to Lucy “And you... don't encourage her behaviour... you're the older one – you should be the grown up”.

Lucy looked guilty and started do fiddle with her fingers “I know... but she started it”

“Did NOT” you immediately exclaimed.

“Quiet.. both of you” Keira said sternly “I don't care who started it... we're in public.. what if Fans take pictures or god forbid a Video... and just as a small information, Lucia... Your new Girlfriend is very taken aback of your behaviour right now... I mean I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I knew the two of you beforehand and knew your Actions, but she doesn't... I know you genuinely love each other and it's your weird language of love rough housing around, throwing insults at each other, but Ona can't understand it.. so either both of you pull yourself together OR I'm going to make sure the two of you will only have supervised visits – supervised by me”.

Both of you looked very guilty, not knowing what to say.

“Are we clear?” Keira hissed out at your silence.

“Crystal” Lucy and you said simultaneously.

“Good” the other Woman nodded.

“Do I really need to run laps?” you asked carefully, shuffling your feet.

“Yes” Keira said strict “But don't worry, you'll be in good company... Mapí and your Sister will join you”

“I'm doing what?” Lucy looking at Keira confused.

“You really didn't think that I punish her and you'd walk, did you?” Keira raised an eyebrow.

“You can't make me do Laps” Lucy said.

“True.. I can't.. but Alexia can and I'm VERY certain that she's on my side this Time” Keira smirked wickedly, before rentering the small Restaurant.

You looked at your Sister “How fucked are we?”

“Very...” Lucy sighed out “When she really involves Ale, than we're very VERY fucked”

“We could bolt?” you suggested

“You can... I need to be at Training at 3pm... it's my Job” your Sister shrugged “I can say you just bolted, when I didn't look”

“Naah” you smiled “We survived angry Keira before... Tobronzher”

Your sister laughed “Still the most stupid word you ever came up with... it sounds nothing like together”

“You still understood” you shrugged your shoulders

“I should talk to Ona” Lucy said contemplative.

“I really didn't want to cause trouble Luce” you said apologetically

“I know... and you didn't really.. I should have talked to her beforehand... our bond is special and Keira was right... she doesn't know how the two of us work...” your Sister said encouraging. You just hummed.

“Why don't you like her?” Lucy asked softly.

“I don't know her...” you said reflecting “... so I don't know if I like her or not”.

“You didn't even gave her a Chance” your Sister said, but it wasn't accusing or angry – it was simply a fact.

“When Luce? When did I had a chance to get to know her? Yesterday when I walked in on you? Or yesterday evening, when we sat like... 15 Minutes at the same Table, where you choose to drift off to your own World with her, which is okay, really.... or today, where we sat like half an hour together and all of you started speaking Spanish – even you – and I starred at the Wall? You didn't really put up an effort to introduce us too, Luce... you called me Devils Spawn the first Time we met... probably freaked her out” you said, shrugging your Shoulders sadly.

Lucy realized that you were right “I'm sorry.. I'm sorry for not realizing how stupid I acted.... I'm going to make it up to you, I promise”

“I'm not the one you have to make up anything... I know you my whole life... I know you... but you should probably talk to her” you said.

“Dinner tonight... only the three of us?” your Sister asked hopefully.

“You... should talk to her first... if that's okay for her” you said carefully.

“I know I’m going to sound like an egotistical asshole in a second, but... you're my SISTER... you will always come first...” your Sister said and pulled you into a tight hug.

You hugged her back and mumbled into her shoulder “But she's your girlfriend...”

“She is... but your feelings will always be important to me... so if she says no, which she won't, I know she won't, than that's one thing... but if YOU say no... than that would really hurt” Lucy said, not letting go of you.

“I'm not saying no... but.. I need time?” you said carefully “I need time to process the whole situation...”

“That's okay... you want me to talk to Keira if you can stay at hers? Or maybe Alexia” your Sister offered.

“I'm not staying with the Scary Woman” you exclaimed shocked.

Lucy laughed out loudly “She's a big softie... she acts all scary when she's mad or on the pitch... but in private... mushball... oh... and she has a girlfriend, so you don't have to be scared she would take advantage of you... you will leave Barcelona still a virgin...”

“Oh please... THAT ship sunk long time ago” you mumbled and rolled your Eyes.

“EXCUSE ME??” your Sister screeched out surprised.

“Nothing” you answer quickly and try to push passed her.

Lucy grabbed your Arm, making you look at her “Who? When? Where? Why?”.

You knew it was no use in lying, so you answered reluctantly “Won't tell you... my Birthday... very classical in a bed... because it felt right?”.

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose “Please tell me you were careful, used protection and you're definitely not pregnant”.

You looked at her with a shocked impression, before recovering “This... Person... wasn't... a dude?” you said carefully, not knowing how your Sister would react.

“A girl?” Lucy asked surprised. You nodded, but didn't meet her eye. “Hey” Lucy grabbed your chin gently and make you look at her “it's okay.. I mean... I'm gay... Publicly gay”

“I just... never told anyone” you mumbled ashamed.

“I feel honoured you told me, Bubs... did she... look after you?” your Sister asked carefully, knowing this wasn't really a Topic you should discuss in Public.

“Still is...” you admitted softly, started to play with the hem of Keiras shorts, a soft blush covering your cheeks.

“Good...” your Sister said, hugging you again before pulling back looking at you shocked “Oh my God... it wasn't Keira, was it??”

“What?” you looked at her confused

“Was it Keira?! The one who... you know”

“Oh my bloody God NO... god you're disgusting! NO!! That's wrong on SO many levels” you exclaim shocked.

“I KNOW it would be wrong... Just the way you said that the person was still taking care of you and you started to play with your shorts, which are actually Kei's shorts... so...” your Sister stuttered.

“Did you actually just listened to yourself?! I wear Keiras shorts, because I slept AT hers with my clothes still at your place...”

“Oh god... that was like a major shocking confusion just now... We should go eat something” your sister sighed out relived.

“You better not bring that up again.. that was just SO wrong” you shake your head.

“Do I know this person?” Lucy smirked as she held the door open for you

“Drop it, Lucia” you said annoyed but with a smile on your face

“So that's a Yes then” she grinned back at you, walking inside after you

“I said drop it... I won't tell you” you smirked

The two of you made your way back inside, immediately getting spotted by Keira, Alexia and Ona. You just sat down, you on Lucys Lap again and started to grab some Breakfast stuff. Keira smiled slightly before returning to eat her Cereal with Yoghurt and Fruit, while Alexia and Ona look at you baffled.

“What happened with the two of you?” Alexia asked confused

“What do you mean?” you mumble, chewing on a piece of Toast with tomato on it which your Sister offered you

“Stop talking with your mouth full, Y/n” Keira scolded you

“Like.. 10 minutes ago, you were basically pulling each others hair, nearly biting and now you're sitting here like nothing happened” Mapí looked at you puzzled.

“That... was 10 minutes ago?” you answered and looked like you didn't see a problem

“Again... welcome to the Bronze Family” Keira smiled at the Spaniards “One moment they're at each others throats, next they share food”

“You know what their problem is?” you ask your Sister confused

“No... on the other Hand I don't care” she shrugged her shoulders, pushing more food in front of you while eating the slightly healthier version of brunch.

After all of you finished your food you left the small restaurant all walking roughly in the same direction before it was time to go separate ways.

“See you later” Alexia said smiling before turning to Mapí “Want to run your laps before or after training?”

“You were serious about that?” the younger player exclaimed, her eyes growing big.

“When did I ever joked about you doing laps?” Alexia said, pulling an eyebrow up

“After, if that's okay” Mapí mumbled defeated, her head hung low

“Don't worry, Mapí... you won't be alone... Lucy and Y/n will join you” Keira smiled wickedly

“I think it's a little unfair that young, unfit1 me needs to keep up with world class players... Lucy can do my laps too...” you said innocently

“Nice try” Keira looked at you impressed “But no”

“Aaaawww maaaan” you groaned out

“If I need to run, you will too” your Sister growled

“Then it's settled” Alexia said grinning “The three of you, laps after training”

Lucy, Ona and you started to walk in the direction of Lucys apartment as you nudged her side

“Why do we want to run after training? Isn't it counterproductive to run when you're already tired and sweaty?”

“Theoretically it is a bad decision, because we’re already tired.... practically... we can use it as part of recovery AND it's a little cooler later in the afternoon...” your sister explained, while smiling slightly.

“Ah...” you say understanding “And how many laps do we need to run?”

Lucy started laughing “If Alexia is gracious maybe five”

“WHAT? FIVE?” you shriek and look at your sister shocked, which caused even Ona to chuckle

“Bubs... Alexia can make Mapí and I run... she can't make you run” Lucy winked at you

“Then why am I running laps with you and Mapí?” you looked at her like she’s growing a second head.

“Because you pissed off Keira?!” your Sister provided an answer

“Ah... yeah... I forgot about that” you said defeated

As you arrived the apartment, Ona wanted to say goodbye but got pulled inside by Lucy while you make your way to the kitchen.

“We need to talk” Lucy mumbled to her girlfriend

“¿Estás rompiendo conmigo?” Ona said sadly

“¿qué? no claro que no!!!” Lucy exclaimed shocked

Ona just shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Lucy sadly. Lucy took a step closer to the younger catalan woman taking her face in her hands.

“¿Por qué crees que rompería contigo?” your sister asked her girlfriend softly

“Necesitamos hablar suele ser un paso muerto” Ona said a little unsure

“I don't understand anything... could you please switch to english??” you yelled from the kitchen, where you prepared yourself a sandwich

“This is a PRIVATE conversation...” your Sister yelled back “... so get lost”

“Then don't hold your PRIVATE conversation in an open space like the living room, which is right next to the kitchen... your apartment ist very open” you answered, gesturing around the apartment.

“Are you seriously eating again?? We just had breakfast” Lucy exclaimed as she saw the sandwich “... and I told you to get lost, I want to talk to Ona... privatly”

“It's not like I understand anything” you rolled your eyes

“Los dejo a ustedes dos... No quiero entrometerme” Ona said quietly

“No te quedes... por favor” Lucy said a little desperate “Ignórala... lo siento, puedo enviarla a su habitación si te hace sentir incómodo”

“No, you should enjoy your time with your sister” Ona smiled but her eyes show sadness

“Thank you” you said, chewing on your sandwich, completely oblivious to what’s happening.

“I told you to get lost” Lucy growled at you and you noticed it was serious

“I don't know where to go... you never showed me around” you said annoyed

“Here” your sister reached into her pants pocket, pulling out some money “Here are 20 Euros, find the next Starbucks and buy yourself an Iced Chocolate Frappe... or something else without caffein... just PLEASE leave”

“Wow you really love me” you said sarcastic “It feels like I'm 13 all over and you wanted me out of the House so you can have “quality time” with Keira”

“I want you out of my apartment, because I need to speak to my girlfriend in private and you eating like harvester doesn't help... take your phone with you, god only knows Mum will kill me if you get lost in Barcelona because you took a wrong turn and ended up in La Mina – IF you get lost or need to get picked up, phone me.. or Keira! Be aware of pick pockers and don't interact with groups of spanish guys... DON'T GET KILLED” your Sister said, already pushing you towards the front door and outside

“I... hey...” you tried to protest but it was no use, since you found yourself already outside of the apartment

“Lucy... I need SHOES” you knocked hard on the door, which promptly opend and a pair of shoes were tossed outside.

Part 3 is in the making 😅

#mapi leon x reader #woso image #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #alexia putellas x reader #ona batlle

[yamikawas]

yyoomtaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh

#yoommtah......................... #where is she why isnt she smothering me in affection rn >:'( #or at least just giving me a Little bit of love to keep me satisfied #actually i think if she were to only give me the bare minimum of attention and then just ignore me or something itd just make it worse</3 #but i definitely dont want her to COMPLETELY ignore me so idk whatd be worse #whatever the thought of her ignoring me at all is making it hard to breathe so i will stop here and go post an image if her instead #tobi.txt #and then i get distracted typing on discord for like 30 minutes and forget to post this hashtag girl

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Hello,

Here's the basics. Me (30s,M) and my wife May (30s,F) have been together for 5+ years now. I've been dealing with issues in my family for most of them and I want to stay close by for support. May has been wanting to go back to school to get her graduate degree but to do that we would best case have to move to a city at least a few hours away from my family. More than likely it would be farther.

Right now I only see my family every other week, often times less than that. May has issues with my family due to past experiences and refuses to spend quality time with them. She will be cordial but that's it. It's been difficult for me to maintain my relationship with my family. A few years back when I was dealing with seriously ill family members May agreed to stop talking about her grad school aspirations. This was only after I had to tell her to stop talking about it since she was bringing it up so often it was stressing me out on top of dealing with everything going on with my family. Since my family issues have calmed down in the past year she's brought it up again.

I don't think now is a good time for a few reasons:

I would be away from my family and unable to support them. I barely see them enough as it is and the distance would only make things difficult.

I do not want to live in a city for many reasons. Overcrowded. Expensive. Everyone is rude. Etc etc.

May has a decent job and is our main source of income. We're not rich by any means but we're able to save money. We're comfortable. I would have to get a minimum wage job to support both of us in a much more expensive area for the next 3+ years at least.

We recently got into another argument about it and she's been withdrawn since. I told her directly she's not taking me into consideration. Since then she's been saying things are pointless and that I don't listen to her. This is completely ridiculous and untrue. She usually gets moody when we have these conversations but this has lasted longer than usual. I've tried to encourage her to pursue some of her other interests but she doesn't even want to do that.

I love my wife and I do support her and I want her to be happy. I'm willing to find some middle ground. I just don't want to have to give up my whole life for hers.

AITA for trying to compromise?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[iveantive]

Prompt: sakura finds a stray dog

or

sakura finds feral hybird kazuha and decides to take her in

TW: A/B/O, g!p, hybrids, branding, kinda mentions of abuse, heat cycles, vaginal fingering, masturbation

word count: 11k (it's a full ass plot with porn)

How could you be so stupid? Sakura mumbled to herself.

Raindrops falling from up above started to drop onto her dry hair. It really is her fault. She checked the forecast last night and knew it was going to rain. But, she thought nothing of it because, on most nights, she would already be home cooking dinner.

It was just her luck. Her boss had asked her to stay longer to finish up some extra paperwork, and she couldn't say no. She was aiming to get a promotion within the next couple of months. So, she stayed, and what would've been a minimum of 30 minutes of unpaid labor became an hour when one of her managers, some brazen cocky alpha, tried hitting on her. Luckily, she was good at deflecting all his stupid questions, giving him deadpan answers to show she wasn't interested.

"What're you doing here so late?" She heard the Alpha slide up behind her as she typed on her laptop.

"Working." She said flatly.

"I see that. Do you want some company?" The alpha slid a nearby chair over to them.

"No, I'm trying to go home quickly." Sakura didn't even want to make eye contact with alpha. Knowing if she did, it would make it harder for the alpha to leave her alone.

Alphas, though, once they start, they just don't stop. Especially when they learn Sakura is a single 25-year-old omega. She's been through this time and time again. Some alpha will come along boasting about how they're from this renowned pack, but really Sakura couldn't care less. When she would make that known, the alpha would get defensive and start calling her names before they stomped off angry they didn't get her number.

It's not that Sakura wasn't looking for a mate. She's been on countless blind dates (set up by Chaewon against her will). It was just that none of them made it past the first date. Alphas were predictable, and she always knew how things were gonna go.

"Well, it'd be quicker if we did it together." Sakura felt the alpha's rough hand creep up her lower back. She would have no trouble smacking his hand away if it were any other alpha. But Sakura needed this job. And she knew if she were to flat-out reject the older alpha, he could ruin her career.

"That's okay, I've actually just finished," She gritted through her teeth, managing to slide away from the alpha's grasp. Despite hearing the alpha calling her name behind her, without missing a beat, she quickly got up, packed up her things, and left the office.

That's how Sakura found herself walking home later than usual. The sun had already set. Instead, getting replaced by grey storm clouds. And by now, the loud bustle of the city life had died down.

A loud crash of thunder snapped Sakura out of her thoughts.

Shit, Sakura cursed. Quickening her pace, she was just a block away from her apartment.

She was practically running by the time she was about to round the corner to her building when she heard a noise. It sounded almost animal-like.

Stopping in her tracks. She turned her head towards the alleyway separating her apartment building and the next one over. Sakura peaked her head ever so slightly in trying to see if she could find the source of the noise, to no avail. It was way too dark, and whatever animal was making that noise was deeper in the alleyway than Sakura wanted to go down.

Yet, she doesn't know why she started to tiptoe down an alleyway, ignoring the raindrops drenching her hair. It was like something was luring her closer, and maybe it was out of her innate curious nature. Sakura knew she wouldn't be able to sleep at night if she didn't at least check to see what was making the noise. It could be an injured animal, perhaps even one of her neighbors' pets. Come to think of it, she had heard some dogs fighting the past couple of nights. She had chalked it up to being all in her head. To be fair, she did live in the city, and stray dogs were common.

As Sakura walked closer, the dull noise got sharper, sounding almost like an animal whimpering mixed with a cry. The saliva in Sakura's mouth started to dry up as she stepped closer to the source of the noise.

Then boom another strike of lightning followed by a crash of thunder.

The lightening provided merely a couple of seconds of light, but it was enough. Sakura was able to make out the silhouette.

A girl.

And as the thunder crashed, Sakura heard another loud whimper, followed by cries soon after.

How long was this girl out here, never mind how the real question is why Sakura thought to herself. Whatever, she couldn't think about that right now. She needed to help the girl. She fished her phone out of her pocket, switching the flashlight on.

Sakura's eyes widened.

The source of all that whimper was, in fact, a girl. As Sakura angled her flashlight up and down her body, though, she knew she wasn't just a girl.

The girl was quite bigger than her, from what Sakura was able to make out. That wasn't even the most shocking part. The girl was naked, with various parts of her skin covered in dirt that was forming into mud as the rain continued to pour down on them. Even more shocking, were the wolf-like ears on the top of the girl's head, and another double take down the girl's body was a tail tucked between her legs.

A hybrid.

Sure, Sakura had heard about them before. Something between a wolf and a human. They maintained both canine and human characteristics. The only ones she'd ever known of usually lived in government-provided homes with other hybrids, and the ones that didn't usually end up dead. Nobody would admit it, but hybrids did have a reputation. They were known to be unstable, unpredictable dangerous even.

As far as Sakura knew, she thought they were extremely rare. Which only made her wonder more how and why the hybrid in front of her was on the streets.

Sakura angled the light towards the hybrids face, or atelast tried to. The angle was awkward. The hybrid was cowering in the corner of the dark alleyway. Her hands covered her face as she let out the scared whimpers.

Sakura grimaced, taking the sight in.

"H-hey," Sakura said softly, catching the hybrid's attention. Her hands dropped from her face, immediately started to let out a low growl.

Sakura kneeled closer to the ground and held out her hand to the hybrid.

"i-i'm n-not gonna hurt you." Sakura tried to remain stoic in her place, trying not to let the fear seep through.

The hybrid started to untangle herself from the cowardly position, getting into a more defensive one. The growls still rumbling from her gut, as she inched closer to Sakura.

Sakura closed her eyes, praying for the best. After a few moments, and not feeling her hand getting mauled off by a rabid hybrid, she opened her eyes back up.

The hybrid was sniffing her hand, Sakura mentally sighed in relief. She looked back at the hybrid, being able to make out the light grey fur on her ears and a red scratch on her cheek.

"A-are you here alone?" Sakura looked into the hybrid eyes trying to gauge any sort of emotion she was feeling, but she was able to decipher none. Only earning a growl from the hybrid.

"I live in the building right here. Do you want to come in?" Sakuras' tone was soft.

The hybrid tilted her head, furrowing an eyebrow.

Maybe she doesn't understand, Sakura pondered.

"Inside. Warm." Sakura tried a new approach as she pointed to her apartment building.

She heard a low grunt come from the hybrid before she switched positions again, now being perched on her hands and knees.

"I take that as a yes," Sakura smiled.

Sakura got up from her crouched position. She was looking back at the hybrid, remembering that, yep, she was indeed naked. And something tells Sakura her landlord wouldn't appreciate her taking in a naked, dirt-covered girl into her apartment. Never mind the hybrid part.

Thinking swiftly, Sakura started to undo her padded jacket. It should be enough to cover the hybrid, at least enough that her landlord and other apartment tenants wouldn't question her.

Sakura reached to drape the jacket over the hybrid shoulder, earning another growl from her.

"You have to wear this to come inside."

The hybrid grunted in response before accepting the jacket being put over her shoulders. Sakura held out her hand to the hybrid as she prepared to exit the alleyway.

She had made it a few feet away from the hybrid before Sakura realized she wasn't following her behind.

"What're you waiting for?" Sakura tried to hold out her hand to the hybrid.

"Wet" Instead of taking ahold of Sakura's hand, the hybrid pointed at Sakura's clothes as they were being drenched in water as the rain was now falling much harder than before.

"So you can talk."

—-

Getting the hybrid into her apartment without catching the eyes of passersby was proving to be a harder challenge than she thought. She didn't think it would be a particularly easy task, but the real gravity of the situation started to set in as Sakura stepped toward the front of the building. In the glass door leading into the lobby, she was able to see the young girl's reflection. The hybrid was towering over her. Any movement she made felt like she was walking on eggshells. The hybrid could so easily knock her over, even hold her down if she so pleased.

So, she took it slow. She was only walking a few steps before waiting for the hybrid behind her to follow. Which she did, albeit much slower than Sakura would have liked. It seemed like the hybrid wasn't too keen on walking on two legs, with how much they were wobbling. Perhaps she had been in the area enough to know how to blend in enough, Sakura wondered. And just as she thought that, she could hear the hybrid sniffing the air, letting out a satisfied grunt before sniffing again.

Another challenge faced the pair when it came to getting onto the elevator; Sakura pushed the button to go up, hearing a ding as the doors opened. She stepped in, expecting the hybrid to be following her, but as she turned towards her, she hadn't moved. The light grey ears on top of her head were drooping as she sniffed the surroundings of the elevator.

"You've never ridden in one before?" Sakura took a step forward, using her hand to block the doors shut. The hybrid just grunted in response. I think that's a yes, Sakura thought to herself.

"I-it's okay. It's only a short ride. You won't even notice we're moving," Sakura tried to reassure the hybrid. Not even really sure she could understand her.

"Come on, it'll be okay" Sakura held her hand out to the hybrid. Only for it to get knocked down as the hybrid brushed passed her with another grunt.

Sakura should be happy that she only lived on the 3rd floor, she doesn't even want to think about if she lived on a higher one. As soon as the hybrid got into the elevator, she stayed glued to one of the sides. Sakura pushed the button to her floor, the ding of a bell indicating the doors were closing, and the elevator began to move.

She watched the hybrid eyes widen, and her body dropped to the floor as the mechanical creaking of the elevator sounded out. The young girl cowards in the corner, whimpering with her eyes closed.

"I-it's okay. Nothing bad's gonna happen. The elevator is just lifting us up." Sakura crouched beside the hybrid. She knew it probably wouldn't do her any good if she tried to touch her when her back was turned. The most she could do was talk to her.

"It must have been cold out there by yourself. Did you know it was gonna rain?"

Silence.

"Yeah, me either. I got stuck in some stupid work thing. Some annoying alpha kept trying to talk to me when I was trying to finish up some report." Sakura glanced her eyes over to the hybrid, and her eyes were no longer squeezed tightly. They were looking at her.

"Usually, by now, I'd have already cooked and eaten dinner. I would be lying on the couch, probably texting Chaewon. She's one of my friends. I've known her ever since I got to Seoul." The hybrid stared at her, furrowing her eyebrows. Could she actually understand her? Sakura wondered. It wouldn't really change much if she did, though. The hybrid seemingly wasn't too keen on talking. Sakura was thankful her rambling had gotten the hybrid to calm down more seemingly.

And with the ding of the elevator indicating they'd made it to Sakura's floor, the hybrid was all but eager to get out. She immediately scampered off the floor and out into the hallway. Heavy steps as she walked down the hallway, sniffing the new air.

"This way, I live a couple doors down." Sakura nodded towards the end of the hallways. She really needs to thank whatever god is up there for making it so none of her neighbors had been in the hallways to see the pair. It was almost comedic in a way, a big hybrid in a way too small padded jacket following behind a petite girl in a skirt and blazer, both drenched with rainwater.

They had finally made it to Sakura's apartment, typing her code into the number pad and pushing the door open.

Sakura stood waiting for the hybrid to step into her home. The hybrid sniffed the air to the apartment before Sakura guessed it was adequate enough and came in. The young girl immediately started snooping around, making her way into the kitchen, sniffing the countertops, and dipping her head in the half-open cabinets. Before she had trekked into the small living room, she had gotten back on all fours, sniffing the cushion to the couch, and ducking under the coffee. At least she's not destroying things, Sakura thought.

Sakura cleared her throat, catching the hybrid's attention. The sniffing had stopped, and the hybrid had gotten back into her view.

"Yeah, it's not much, but it's enough for me." She really had all she needed in the apartment. It was a simple one-bedroom, one-bathroom flat, with a small living room and kitchen to go along with.

"You should get cleaned up, my bathrooms over there." Sakura pointed to the half-open door down the hall.

The older girl waited a couple of seconds for the hybrid to react, only to see her perched on her knees with her head tilted, staring at her. Sakura sighed. She really needed to get a gauge of how much the hybrid could understand her. But, for now, she had two options really, either she let the hybrid stay naked and covered in mud, or she sucked it up and bathed her herself. And seeing how the entranceway and path into the kitchen had prints of mud littering the hardwood the option seemed pretty clear.

Sakura walked closer to the younger girl, her eyes getting bigger as she walked closer.

"I-I'm not gonna hurt you. We just need to get you clean." Sakura held out her hand to the hybrid, who in return brought her nose up to the older girl and sniffed it. Till she heard a grunt, which seemed to be on the more chipper side, Sakura took it as a sign it was okay to get closer.

"I'm gonna take this off, okay? Then we're gonna go to the bathroom." Sakura pointed to her padded jacket the hybrid still had on. She was earning no response, just a blank stare from the younger.

Please don't bite me, please don't bite me was all that was running through Sakura's head as she crouched down to be on the same level as the hybrid. Bringing her hand up to undo the velcro, she held her breath. The crackles of the first piece starting to unravel filled the tension in the air.

She looked at the hybrid, trying to see a response in her, only to see she was looking down, fixated on Sakura's hand. Taking it as a sign to continue, she undid the remaining pieces of velcro much quicker. The older girl reached her hands up the hybrid's shoulders, taking the jacket off, effectively leaving the hybrid exposed to her.

Sakura already knew from the alleyway that the hybrid had to have been in some kind of accident or fight from seeing the scratch mark on her face. However, she wasn't expecting to see cuts littering her collarbones and even more scratches on her arms. She already knew once she bathed the hybrid, without a doubt, she would see more wounds on the poor girl.

"Good, follow me to the bathroom." Sakura motioned for the hybrid to follow.

They made their way to the said bathroom in silence. With Sakura pushing open the door and waiting for the hybrid to come. The young girl was taking her time walking down the hallway, looking at all of the things Sakura had on her wall. Various picture frames she had with friends, even the shelves she had up filled with various things from random books to her crocheting yarn. The hybrid's eyes darted from each item.

"You can look at them later. You need to get cleaned up first." Sakura stood by the doorframe, tapping her nails on the wood. She gained the hybrid's attention, who glanced back at Sakura before making her way over to her.

"This is a bathtub. It's where you get clean. I'm gonna have to rinse you off first before I can wash you, okay?" Sakura pointed to her bathtub.

Much to Sakura's surprise, the hybrid was quick to step into the tub. Which she supposes she should be thankful for.

"The water might come out a little cold at first, but it'll warm up," Sakura said as she reached for the showerhead.

She turned toward the knobs of the bathtub turning the water on, making the hybrid whimper at the sudden noise and contact of the water before she calmed back down. The flow of water spraying down her legs, Sakura watched her bend down sniffing the water. Before she completely bent down and started biting at the water. The sight made Sakura stifle laughter. It was kinda cute, the hybrid nipping at the water for a few seconds, then turning away to breathe. Just to go back to bite the stream of water. In the process getting her ears caught in the water, soaking them.

Sakura stared at the amusing sight for a few more seconds before she recalled why she was doing this in the first place. She alternated between fiddling with the knobs and reaching her hand into the stream of water until the water had reached a warm, comfortable temperature.

She maneuvered the showerhead over the hybrid's body. Spraying her torso and back which were the parts of her covered the most in mud and god knows what else. Sakura watched as the once clean water below the hybrids turned into a dark brown color as the filth was being washed off her.

"How long were you out there?" Sakura asked. She was waiting a couple of seconds only to get none. It had to be longer than just this day, she was sure of. There was no way the hybrid would've been able to get this dirty in a single day.

The hybrid remained silent as Sakura continued rinsing her off, staring down at the ground.

"I'm gonna have to touch you for the next part. Is that okay?" Sakura waited for a response. She looked at the hybrid, who, after a few seconds, gave her a short nod. To her surprise.

Sakura reached for the bottle of soap she had near and began to pour an ample amount into her hand.

"If I touch something that sensitive, just growls at me or something."

The older girl, reached into the tub and began with the hybrids arms. She was using her hands to spread the soap down her limbs. She looked back at the hybrid, to see how she was doing, seeing the hybrid looking at her hands, watching her movements. It almost made Sakura shiver, the way she was staring at her.

She had to ignore it, though, and continued on with the hybrid's upper body. As she got closer to the younger girl, she was also able to see the cuts on her more clearly. Some of them were more healed than others. With some of them already turned into faded white scares, some still pink, and others merely scabbed over. It made Sakura wince as the thought about the possible reason for these marks. If it were just a fight with another hybrid or animal, the marks would be more scattered. But, the marks on the hybrid were calculated, like they were done on purpose.

Sakura took a breath.

"You doing okay?" She doesn't know if she was asking it to herself or the hybrid. But nevertheless she got a grunt in response from the hybrid.

So, She continued on down to the hybrid lower body. When she noticed something that almost made her lose her footing, her eyes had to be bulging out of her head as she stared in shock. She quickly tried to regain her composure, not wanting to panic the hybrid.

A small mark.If she weren't so close to the hybrid she wasn't sure she would've caught it, Maybe even written it off as another scar. However, this mark wasn't like the ones that were on her arms or her upper torso. She got closer, lightly running her fingers over the marks, feeling the indentation.

NKZH

Those letters were scarred on her skin. Sakura grimaced as she stared at the markings. These markings had to be done on purpose. There was no doubt about it.

Sakura debated in her head on her next action. She had to think that the hybrid knew that she saw it. So, in theory, she could try to ask the hybrid about it, but truthfully, she was afraid of the reaction it could evoke.

So, she didn't. She didn't bring it up. Instead focusing back on the task at hand, and that cleaning the hybrid. She continued washing the hybrid's lower body before she moved on to washing her hair, using her fingers to make an attempt at detangling the disheveled hair, paying extra attention to the fur on her ears. They were soft, so soft. She used her fingernails to really get into her scalp and scratched behind her ears, cleaning them thoroughly, hearing a sigh of relief fall from the hybrid's mouth. Finishing up, she did a last final rinse on the hybrid.

"That wasn't so bad, was it," Sakura said more for herself than the hybrid.

"You smell much better now." Sakura had a soft smile. The hybrid sniffed herself, making a snorting noise afterward. Is that her way of laughing? Sakura tilted her head.

Sakura stood up and grabbed the towel she had hung up, and just as she was about to turn back around, the hybrid shook. The water from the fur on her ears and her tail splattered on the floor on the wall.

"It's a good thing I'm already wet, or else I would totally kick you out right now." Sakura playfully rolled her eyes.

"Use the towel and dry off. I'll get you some clothes." Turning around, She tossed the towel at the hybrid, who surprisingly caught it.

Sakura walked out of the bathroom across the hall to her bedroom and stared at the clothes in her dresser. She really didn't have any clothes that would fit the hybrid. Never mind the fact that she didn't have any underwear for the hybrid to wear. But, something tells her the hybrid wouldn't even care nor notice. She continued to scour her drawers till she settled on the biggest t-shirt she had and the baggiest sweatpants.

When she came back to the bathroom the hybrid had done just as Sakura said. The towel over her shoulders as she stood in the tub.

"You can come out of there now," Sakura said, and the hybrid stepped out of the tub. She wondered why the younger girl hadn't moved without her permission.

"These are the only clothes that I have that I thought would fit you." Sakura handed them to the hybrid. Who began to put the clothes on slowly.

Luckily, the t-shirt did fit the hybrid. Normally it would come down to Sakura's lower thigh, but on the hybrid, it was fitting more like a normal shirt. However, the sweatpants were a different story. The cuffs to the pants only reached her mid-calf, and they got tighter as they went up. They were leaving really no room for imagination of what was under there. Not that Sakura was looking, obviously.

Sakura brought the hybrid back out into the living room, and she had taken out a couple of extra pillows and blankets for the girl.

"You can sleep here for tonight" Sakura pointed towards the couch. She reached for the TV remote on the nearby coffee table and switched it on. The hybrid was immediately going towards the couch, plopping down on the cushions. She stared at the TV enamored.

"I'm gonna go shower. Stay here. You can watch whatever you want," Sakura said as she walked awake, facepalming herself. Could the hybrid even understand her? Did she even know how to work the TV? Whatever, Sakuras is sure she'll be able to figure it out.

-

Sakura stared at the hybrid from the kitchen. When she had come out of the shower, the hybrid had fallen asleep. Of course, with the TV still on, the hybrid did change the channel to some random romance drama. She wouldn't have taken the hybrid to be the romance type, or maybe the hybrid just found the music playing soothing. Who knows.

With the hybrid being asleep it forced Sakura to reflect on the past few hours. Just what did she get herself into? The scars and scratches she had seen on the young girl's body scared her. How did she get them? Matter of fact where did she even come from? Sakura knew she wasn't gonna get the answer she wanted.

With a sigh, too many questions, no answers. She flopped onto her bed, her phone in hand, the clock reading just a few minutes past midnight.

Yeah, Chaewon was probably still up.

She hovered her finger over the Facetime button, and her phone rang once, twice before Chaewon picked up.

"Damn, isn't your old ass usually asleep by now? What're you doing up?" Chaewon was currently in bed, too, from what Sakura was able to tell.

"Am not! I just appreciate my beauty sleep." Dramatically put a hand to her chest.

"Last Friday, when Yunjin and I asked you to go out with us, you were already asleep." Chaewon deadpanned.

"Fine, you got me there, but I wouldn't want to third-wheel you two anyways." Sakura rolled her eyes.

"Okay, fuck you. Now, why'd you call?" Chaewon asked.

Oh yeah, there was a reason why Sakura called her best friend in the first place before getting psychologically beat up.

"Promise not to freak out"

"The most exciting thing you've done in the past three months is crochet a new sweater. Just tell me." Chaewon rolled her eyes.

Sakura knows there is no easy way to say what she wants to get out without basically dropping it on Chaewon. Hybrids were foreign territory for really everyone she knew. They never even crossed most people's minds. Since they never lived near the city, it was easy for everyone to forget they even existed.

"I brought a hybrid home."

Sakura saw Chaewon's eyes stare in disbelief. Moments of silence passed by before she even heard Chaewon breathe again.

"You're joking," Chaewon snorted.

"I'm not. I just found her in the alleyway by my apartment, and she looked scared. I didn't want to leave her alone. It was raining." She tried to explain.

"I don't believe you. Hybrids are rare. Why the fuck would one just be outside your apartment?" Chaewon prodded.

"I don't know. That's why I took her in; better me than someone else who'd take advantage of her." Sakura reasoned.

Chaewon remained silent for a few seconds.

"Show me her."

"What? She's sleeping. I don't want to wake her up."

"then I won't believe you."

"Oh my god, fine. But you better stay muted. If she mauls my arm off, it's on you."

Sakura rolled off her bed, turning the brightness down on her phone. As she tiptoed out of her bedroom, god, how the fuck did she get here, walking on eggshells in her own home.

She stepped closer and closer to the couch where the hybrid was sleeping. She could hear the little snores the girl was letting out. The lamp on the nearby coffee table provided just enough light, and Sakura was able to see her face. She looked so peaceful, not at all as it looked when she came across her a mere few hours before. Her light grey ears twitched, and her eyebrows furrowed every few breaths. It was like she was dreaming. Maybe she was, for all Sakura knew.

Sakura angled her phone up at the hybrid face, holding her breath as if she would hear her if she were too loud. She tried to make sure she got her ears and her tail that lay heavy on the side of the couch in the frame—staying there for a few moments, looking at the younger girl before she looked back at her phone and saw Chaewon's eyes wide open, her mouth agape.

Yep, that was her cue to get back to her room. So, just as quickly as before, Sakura made her way back to her bed. Then unmuted Chaewon.

"Holy shit, you weren't lying," Chaewon said in disbelief.

"Of course not. Why would I?" Sakura scoffed.

"I don't know, what're you gonna do with her?" Chaewon asked.

"I plan on calling the RoH on Monday when they're open, but for the next couple of days, I don't know." Sakura took a breath.

"mmm, that's a good idea. Have you talked to anyone else about her yet?"

"No, I wasn't sure who to call. I don't even really know what I'd be asking anyway," Sakura sighed.

"It's not like any of you have experiences with hybrids."

She and Chaewon just stayed in comfortable silence for a couple of seconds. Then she saw almost like a lightbulb go off in Chaewon's mind.

"What're you thinking?" Sakura prodded.

"Maybe you should try talking to Wonyoung. She might know more about hybrids."

"What makes you think that?" Wonyoung was an acquaintance, albeit six years younger than her. She had gotten to know the younger girl when she became friends with Chaewon, who was friends with her older sister, Eunbi.

"Do you remember her, mate?" Chaewon asked.

Sakura tried to think back. She'd only met Wonyoung a handful of times. However, she remembered last year when she had introduced her mate Yujin. She didn't actually get to meet her, but she remembers Wonyoung talking about her. An alpha just a year older than her.

"Yujin, right. I remember Wonyoung talking about her a bit".

"Think about it. The way Wonyoung talked about her. It was a bit strange. Doesn't it remind you a little how the hybrid on your couch is"

She recalls Wonyoung explaining how she met Yujin. She didn't go into much detail. But She remembers the young girl talking about how Yujin was from the countryside. And they had met when the alpha had transferred to her colleges. She remembers Wonyoung saying the alpha was still getting used to meeting new people and interacting with them, which she thought was a bit odd but didn't question it at the time.

"A little bit, yeah, but Wonyoung didn't say Yujin was a hybrid." Sakura furrowed her eyebrows.

"Can you blame her, though? Maybe she didn't know how we'd react if she flat out said it"

"You might be right. I'll try to call her tomorrow," Sakura yawned.

"Let me know how it goes. Get some sleep, unnie." Chaewon yawned back. Her eyes had started fluttering shut.

"You too, and tell Yunjin I said hi," Sakura ended the Facetime. Tossing her phone to the side, hitting her head on her pillow with a thud. A million thoughts ran through her mind about the hybrid that night as she tossed and turned in her sleep.

—---

To say Sakura didn't get a lot of sleep last night would be an understatement. She was tired, yes, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fall asleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. She ended up spending her time googling things about hybrids.

Are hybrids friendly?

Do hybrids like people?

The questions she asked were stupid; Sakura knows it. It's just that schools never taught anything about hybrids other than reiterating the fact if you meet one in the wild, remain calm, stay as far away as possible and call the Register of Hybirds. And, well, she clearly didn't follow the second rule. The hybrid looked so lost and scared last night. Sakura just knew she would've regretted her actions even more if she had done nothing to help her.

But that didn't mean the hybrids presence also didn't scare the shit out of her. The scars and cuts that littered the young girl's skin, god, the letters that were scarred into her skin. Sakura swears she thought up every type of scenario in her sleep-deprived delusional state last night of what possibly could've done that to the hybrid.

It was bright and early the next morning. Sakura had only noticed it was the start of a new day by the sunshine that peaked through the curtains in her room. She wonders if the hybrid is still asleep or if the hybrid is awake, also reflecting on the previous night's events.

A part of Sakura is even scared to come out of her room to check on the hybrid. The younger girl has no reason to keep tolerating her. Maybe the hybrid only tolerated last night because she had offered her a place to stay. The idea that once she exited the room, the hybrid would immediately start growling at her wasn't an unlikely one.

Sakura picked up her phone, looking at the time. 7 am, she sighs. There was no point in staying in her room anymore. She would have to face the hybrid at some point, and it might as well be when there's a possibility she's still asleep, she thought.

She musters up the courage to get out of her bed. Slowly making her way to the door, with a deep breath, she turned the doorknob. She made her way out of her bedroom, moving as quietly as possible. She made it out her door and tip-toed her way to the living room, where she could still hear the sound of the TV making noise.

Had she left it on last night? She swears she turned it off.

As she rounded the corner into the living room, her question answered itself. There was the hybrid sitting with her knees to her chest, staring at the TV. And upon closer inspection the younger girl was watching an episode of Adventure Time. The fear she had of facing the hybrid washed away as she chuckled at the sight.

Sakura took a couple of strides closer, making her presence known to the hybrid.

"Did you sleep well? You were already asleep when I came out of the shower last night. I didn't want to wake you?" Sakura padded over to the opposite side of the couch the hybrid was on and sat down.

The hybrid nodded.

"That's good" Sakura faced the TV, not even really watching, just staring at the screen as she built the courage to ask her next question.

"So, were you thinking about staying here longer?" Sakura held her breath.

To which she got no response. Facing back toward the hybrid, she saw her eyes fixated on the TV.

"It's okay, no pressure. If you do, we're just going to have to talk about some things first" Sakura watched the hybrids face for any sort of expression. But there was none. Sakura sighed. Well, she might as well be honest with the hybrid, she thought.

"If you're still here tomorrow, I'm gonna call the RoH." Sakura saw the hybrid's jaw clench. Yeah, Sakura better explain herself.

"It's not that I don't want you here. It's just going to be hard to have you here when I don't know anything about hybrids, and RoH would be able to help me understand you better." She looked at the hybrid, waiting for any sign of a response.

And after a few moments, she got one, a hesitant nod.

Sakura exhaled the breath she didn't even know she had been holding in this entire time. She faced her attention back to the TV. Resting her eyes as she sank onto the couch. Well, that's one hard conversation down. Good job, Sakura, she mentally patted herself on the back.

The pair continued to sit in silence. It wasn't awkward, per se. Matter of fact, Sakura didn't really mind the hybrid being there. She wasn't used to waking up in the morning and someone else being there with her. Matter of fact, she kinda liked it. Even if the hybrid was hesitant to interact with her, the younger girl's presence was comforting in a way.

The low sounds or stomach rumbling drew Sakura out of her thoughts.

"Oh you must be hungry, when's the last time you ate?" Sakura looked towards the source of the rumbling, who was the hybrid in question.

No response.

"I was getting hungry too. I'll make something for us."

Sakura got up and made her way into the kitchen. She settled on making something easy and filling for them. She was still in no headspace to do anything overly complicated this morning.

It was a simple breakfast: Rice, eggs, spam, kimchi, and seaweed on the side. Nothing more, nothing less. The hybrid had found her way into the kitchen while Sakura was frying up the spam. Sakura deduces it must've been from the smell. The hybrid got closer to the older girl till she was towering over the girl as she cooked, looking over her shoulder. She was sniffing the air around her. It made Sakura's spine stiffen at the feeling of the hybrid being in such close proximity to her.

"C-can you get some plates? They're in the cabinet over there," Sakura pointed at the cabinet. And to her genuine surprise, the hybrid had gone over to the cupboard and pulled out a couple of plates for them. It made Sakura wonder, did the hybrid understand everything she was saying? Did the hybrid pick and choose what she wanted to answer?

Sakura plated each of their meals on the plates and took them over to her kitchen table. It was a small one, built for really only one person. However, she was lucky she was small and also decided to buy a second chair.

She sat across the hybrid, observing her starting to eat her food. She began sniffing at it before grabbing it with her hands and practically inhaling food in her mouth. Sakura looked at the untouched chopsticks a few inches away from the hybrid hands.

Doesn't know how to use utensils, noted.

After the pair had finished eating their breakfast, Sakura brought their dishes to the sink and began to clean up. The hybrid had dropped a fair bit of food out of her mouth onto the table, waiting for Sakura to clean up. She continued to wipe down the table as the hybrid went back into the living room. When she was finished, Sakura sat back down near the hybrid on the couch.

Sakura looked down at her phone to read the time. 10 am. Wonyoung must be awake by now, she thought.

Sakura cleared her throat, catching the attention of the hybrid beside her.

"I'll be back. I need to call a friend." She watched for a response from the younger girl. To which she received a hesitant nod. It was a bare minimum reply, but it was the best she was gonna get from the hybrid. For a majority of the things she asked her, Sakura deduced,

Once Sakura had excused herself to her room, she shut the door behind her and took a seat on the bed before scrolling through her contacts to find the person she needed. And there she was.

Jang Wonyoung.

To be honest, Sakura doesn't even know if Wonyoung answers her call. Sure, they've met a couple of times, but never in a one-on-one setting. Anytime they've hung out together, it had been in the presence of other people. But she was desperate. If there was any chance that somebody she knew had an experience with a hybrid, she wanted to talk to them as soon as possible. Which again, Sakura is unsure if Wonyoungs mate was even a hybrid. And even so, who's to say Wonyoung would want to talk about it? Hybrids were looked down upon in society.

Sakura sat for a few moments, debating whether to call the younger girl. As her finger hovered over the Facetime button, she held her breath as she pushed it. The phone dialed. She heard the tone ring once, twice, three times, and on the fourth chime, Sakura was starting to give up hope on the younger girl picking up.

But, on the sixth chime, she heard the phone connect.

"Sakura, Unnie?" she heard Wonyoungs voice.

"Yeah, yeah, it's me."

"Oh! I wasn't expecting a call this early. How are you?" The younger girl asked.

"I'm doing good, but I actually called because I had something to ask." Sakura could feel herself starting to get hotter.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I can answer it." She heard the cheerful voice of the younger girl. Sakura's palms were getting sweatier by the second as she was building the courage to ask Wonyoung her burning questions. She didn't want to straight up ask the younger girl right off the bat if her mate was a hybrid. She needed to ease into it.

"What do you know about hybrids?" Sakura softly asked.

"O-oh, um, why do you ask?" Sakura can hear the tension in Wonyoungs voice.

Sakura needed to be honest with you, younger girl. Wonyoung was smart, and she wouldn't just give her the answers she needed without some sort of explanation of why.

"W-well, I have a hybrid staying with me right now," Sakura got out. She saw Wonyoungs eyes widen in shock, and she swears she saw her eyes dart to the side of her.

"O-oh, thats crazy. H-how?, wh-where? I mean, they're so rare?" Wonyoung stuttered.

So Sakura went and gave the younger girl a brief rundown on how she met the hybrid and took her in. Wonyoungs reaction to Sakura's story had been almost the complete opposite of Chaewons to say the least. They were both shocked at the fact that a hybrid had ended up in their city. However, when Sakura got to explaining the hybrid's behaviors and mannerisms, she was calm and simply listened to her.

"To answer your question, yeah, I actually do know a couplet things about hybrids. You called the RoH already, right?" Wonyoung asked.

"Not yet. I plan to call them tomorrow. Right now the hybrid seems comfortable enough with me. I don't want to scare her off or something," Sakura sighed.

"When you talk to the doctor, make sure to ask them to do a blood test. And make sure they do full body exam on them, that could also tell you some general information on her," Wonyoung dropped on the older girl.

"W-woah, that's actually some solid-ass advice," Sakura said in awe. She swears Wonyoung has been more helpful in learning about the hybrid on her couch than the late-night googling did.

"What can I say? I do like hybrids," Wonyoung smiled, and there it was again. Sakura swears she saw Wonyoung look to the side of her.

"Are you with you, Yujin?" Sakura played up the teasingness in her tone.

"H-how'd you know?" Wonyoung seemed to say in genuine shock.

"Who else would your eyes be wandering at during this entire conversation?" Sakura laughs.

"Yeah, Yujins here. She's right next to me." Wonyoung gave up and even denied it.

"Wony, I'm just gonna come out and ask it," Sakura prepared herself to ask the question. To which she saw Wonyoungs eyes widen again.

"I think I have a feeling where this is going, but go on."

"Is Yujin a hybrid?" Sakura asked.

Wonyoung almost laughs. Before she flipped the camera and there Yujin was curled up next to the younger girl with her head in her lap. And upon closer inspection of the screen, Sakura was able to make out the brown ears atop her head.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Holy shit. Now I get Chaewon shock, when I told her about this," Sakura's eyes were wide in disbelief. Previously, when Wonyoung had shown pictures of her and Yujin out together, the framings of the photos were in such a way you weren't able to see the top of either their heads. Sakura could've guessed it. This entire time they were just hiding Yujins ears.

Wonyoung laughed as she flipped the camera back on herself.

"Yeah, she's kinda insufferable sometimes, but I love her," Wonyoung smiled.

"Can I ask you a question about her?" Sakura questioned. She watched her nod.

" Where did Yujin come from?" Sakura held her breath. She assumed it would be a bit of a heavy question. It was common knowledge that hybrids typically weren't mated with humans. She'd only ever head of it being possible a handful of ties. But, with the newfound discovery of Wonyoung and Yujins' relationship, there was no denying that these types of relationships existed.

"I don't want to go into much detail. It's Yujins story to tell, not mine" Sakura nodded her head in understanding.

"I did meet Yujin in college like you guys all know. But I didn't meet her in class like I said. I met her when I was doing my clinicals at the hospital, and I had come across her," Wonyoung explained.

"And you figured out she was your mate?" Sakura asked.

"Not exactly. I had offered to take her in for a couple of weeks when the hospital said they were gonna discharge her; at the time, I thought Yujin didn't have money for anything. And well, I guess you could say she grew on me," Wonyoung beamed.

Sakura smiled at the explanation from the younger girl. It made her ponder the direction her new relationship with the hybrid on her couch could possibly go. Before she shook her head, she shouldn't be thinking about this. It's too early to think about this, both in their relationship and well in the day. She doesn't even know where the hybrid stood. Hell, Sakura still didn't even know her name.

"I want to ask you something else," Sakura said before she got a nod from Woyoung to task.

"Was Yujin able to speak when you found her?" Sakura was curious whether or not the hybrids' behavior was normal to other hybrids.

"Yeah, I mean, she was shy at first. But she was always able to communicate with me. Can your hybrid not?" Wonyoung asked.

"I'm not sure. When I talk to her, sometimes she answers in one word, or sometimes she just nods, but most of the time, she doesn't answer. I'm not sure if it's because she doesn't like me or she genuinely can't talk."

"I'm sorry, unnie, I'm not sure what that could mean. Maybe she's still warming up to you." Wonyoung smiled optimistically.

"Yeah, maybe," Sakura sighed.

"Can I see her?" Wonyoung asked.

"Y-yeah, give me a second." Sakura got up from her bed and made her way down the hallway quietly. She stayed just out of earshot of the hybrid before she flipped the camera to face the hybrid, making sure her light grey ears were visible in the frame.

"At least she seems well-trained enough. When Yujin first came, she wasn't even potty trained," Wonyoung laughs as she recalls the first couple of days with Yujin. Reminding her much of the situation Sakura was currently having.

"Ye-yeah, I guess so."

And just as she says that Sakura can hear the sound of something trickling.

No, No, No, No, is all that rang throughout Sakura's mind as she looked back up at the hybrid. To see that, yep, within a matter of a few seconds, she had her eyes off the hybrid. She somehow managed to take off her sweatpants and start fertilizing the plants, if you will, near a fake plant she had in the corner of her living room.

And it seemed like Wonyoung had heard it, too, with how she had started laughing.

"I'll text you later, Wony. Thanks for the talk. It really helped." Sakura tried to end the Facetime quickly.

"It's no problem, unnie, and I hope everything goes well for you and your hybrid," Wonyoung hung up.

Your hybrid

Now, why was Sakura enjoying the way that sounded? Before, she was interrupted again by the sound of trickling water, which she now knew was, in fact, not water. God Dammit, how much water had the hybrid drank? As Sakura looked up, the hybrid was now doing her business in the middle of the room.

Sakura is thanking whatever god is up there for deciding not to install a carpet and settling for hardwood floors.

- When Sakura had called the RoH and informed them about her current situation with the hybrid they immediately wanted to meet her. From the tone over the phone, Sakura wasn't able to tell if it was purely out of concern for her safety or out of awe that there really was a hybrid in this part of town.

The RoH told her they were going to send a doctor to her apartment as soon as possible. And just a short mere two hours later, there she was. Upon hearing the knock at the door indicating that the doctor was here, the hybrid quickly got up from her place on the couch, got in a defensive position, and started growling at the noise.

Sakura had to tell her it was okay and that RoH was just here to help. She told the hybrid to stay in the apartment while she went and talked to the doctor alone, and she got a grunt of annoyance from the young girl.

When Sakura opened the door, to her surprise, the doctor was a young woman. She was definitely in her 30s, and she was fitted in a white coat carrying along a briefcase.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs?" Sakura held out her hand.

"Bae, it's good to meet you too, Miss Miyawaki," she said as she shook her hand.

"I take it you wanted to talk alone before I meet the hybrid?"

"Yeah, she might be a little on edge right now. I told her a doctor from the RoH was coming over, and her response wasn't great," Sakura tried to explain.

"Mmm, wasn't great how?" The doctor asked.

"At first, when I told her, she seemingly was okay with it, but when she heard you coming to the door, she started growing."

"That's understandable. It's quite common for hybrids to struggle when meeting new people." Mrs. Bae nodded.

"I've already been made aware of the circumstances you came across her. Since then, has there been anything that could give you an idea of where she could have come from?" Mrs Bae asked.

Sakura debated in her head for a couple of moments, debating on whether or not to tell her about the scratches and marks she had found on the hybrid's skin. A part of her was afraid that if she told her, the hybrid would be taken away. And for some reason, she didn't want that. However, she wanted to be honest with the doctor. After all, they would know what's best for the hybrid. And that's what Sakura wants for the hybrid. Right? But was it worth the possibility of her getting taken away? She pondered.

"Um, when I brought her home and gave her a bath, I actually saw a lot of scratches and scars on her body."

"Unfortunately, that is also quite common for hybrids that have been found on the street, whether it be from the physical damage caused by wherever they came from or from wild animals they encountered before being found. It really is a case-by-case sort of thing," The doctor explained.

Was it really that common for hybrids to be treated this badly? Sakura wonders. Sure, hybrids aren't usually in the general population. Since they typically came from the countryside, saying that Sakura assumed that they lived secluded lives.

"Th-there i-is something else, too." Sakura started to feel nervous again. The doctor waited for Sakura to speak again.

"I-I saw some sort of scarring in the shapes of letters, too," Sakura was able to get out. For a split second, she was able to see Mrs. Bae's eyes widen before they went back to normal. She stood there for a moment as she waited for the older woman to collect her thoughts.

"There is quite a high possibility that those marks were a branding." The doctor stated.

Sakura's eyes widened in shock. But, now that she thinks of it, it started to make more sense.

"When hybrids are branded, it typically means they were kept by humans for a reason. I've seen cases when the branding has been used for things such as breeding," Mrs. Bae explained.

Sakura took in the words falling from the doctor's mouth. It was starting to make sense in her head as she started to form the story in her head. The hybrid must have found her way into the alleyway after she had escaped from where she was before.

"W-what does the branding mean?" Sakura asked.

"The reason for them can vary. It can be anything from their name to just random identifiers for their captors."

Sakura just nodded as questions started to flood her head. And as much as she liked to ask them, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Sakura opened the door back to the apartment and was met with the hybrid growling at Mrs. Bae, who remained poised, standing up straight. The doctor observed the hybrid. Maintaining eye contact with the hybrid till she had stopped growling and just remained silent. The doctors started to take notes in her notebook as she did a physical on the hybrid.

To be honest, for Sakura the next hours for her were a blur. Most of what the doctor did for the hybrid was done with Sakura off to the side. Still though, she managed to remember Wonyoungs words and told the doctor specifically to make an appointment for a blood test. She also recalls the doctor telling her she was going to call to set up further health-related appointments as they walked towards her door and bid her a goodbye.

After the visit from the doctor, Sakura had opted just to order pizza for dinner for the pair. They were currently sitting on the couch watching TV. It seemed clear to Sakura that wherever the hybrid was before, she didn't have a TV. Whenever it was turned on, the hybrid seemed so entranced with whatever was playing.

But, for Sakura, she kept thinking about what the doctor had told her. Was it really that far off to think that the hybrid could have been in one of those places where people kept hybrids as captors? It would explain the clearly calculated scratches and marks she had discovered that littered the hybrid's body the day she found her. This would also explain the indentations of letters in her skin. It didn't even feel right just to say they were indentations.

The hybrid was branded by somebody for a reason.

Sakura just couldn't figure out what. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to know. How could somebody do that to her? Sakura knows people hate hybrids, but to abuse them like that. Sakura didn't even want to think about it.

So, she didn't. Well, at least she tried not to.

What didn't leave her mind, though, were the letters.

NKZH

Were they a company? Maybe the girl's initials? Sakura wonders. And she was really hoping it would be the latter.

If the first two letters are her sir name, then that must mean the last two are her first name, Sakura deduces. She doesn't even know if she's right. However, she supposed she wouldn't ever know unless she tried. So she did.

"Zaho" Sakura blurted out. Catching the attention of the hybrid, but not enough to warrant anything more than a stare.

"Zeha," She tried again.

Nothing.

"Zuhe"

Nothing.

"Zuha"

Upon those syllables falling from her mouth, Sakura hears something. It's a quiet thumping, a sound you would have to focus to hear. Something she would have missed if she wasn't actively wanting her hear a response. She looked around for the source of the noise until she looked down at the gap between her and the hybrid.

"Zuha," Sakura repeated.

There, the noise was again. And as her gaze was on the gap between them, she saw her tail wag. It was thumping on the cushion of the couch. Sakura looked at the hybrid, her eyes still on the TV, but her ears twitching along with her tail.

"Your name is Zuha?" Sakura asked.

The hybrid nodded.

-

It doesn't even hit Sakura. Her heat had started till it was too late.

Now usually, Sakura was very punctual with her heat schedule. She even had an app that would tell her how far along she was in her heat cycle. It was so unlike her to forget her suppressants. She hadn't forgotten to take them in the last five years, why now she asks herself.

Okay, she may know why she forgot. And it had something to do with the hybrid still residing on her couch. It had been about a week since the hybrid had first come into her home. Sakura had just been so caught up in taking care of Zuha that she had forgotten about herself. Now that she thinks of it, maybe she did simply ignore those notifications she got from her heat app, warning her to take her suppressants.

The hybrid had just been taking up so much of her time lately, from the RoH appointments to teaching her basic chores. Her world was completely taken over by the young girl. Not that she minded, really. It was nice to come home to someone waiting for her. Even if Zuha's communication skills still weren't the best, she was making an effort, and that's what mattered. However, because of all the time she had been taking up, Sakura had ignored the warning signs of her heat coming—the lethargy, the hot skin, and most prominent of all, the warm ache between her legs.

Finally, having time for herself after a long day at work and caring for the hybrid. Sakura was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when her mind started wandering. It's not like she was trying to. She really was trying to think about anything else. But, the heat between her legs just was getting harder and harder to ignore. She can't help it, as much as Sakura would hate to say it. She's still an omega, and what she needed right now was an alpha.

And yet she didn't have one. She was alone in her bedroom. It would be so easy to wake up the sleepy hybrid on the couch Sakura thought. Get on top of Zuhas lap, and start grin-

Nope, nope, nope, you still barely even know the girl, Sakura sighed.

It's true that the pair had grown increasingly closer even within just this past week. Zuha would no longer growl at her whenever she got too close. And she had started to try and communicate the best she could with her, even if it was by simple nods or gestures. However, saying that, it was still hard to ever gauge any deep emotion from the younger girl. She had tried to ask Zuha more about her past and how she found herself in the alleyway. But, the hybrid seemed detached whenever she'd bring it up, always just shrugging her shoulders or looking away.

Get ahold of yourself. Sakura ran her hands through her hair as she tried to think about literally anything else that wasn't Zuha related. And unfortunately, it was harder than she thought. It had been so long since she'd last gotten off and even longer since she'd gotten laid. She's not some sort of prude, and it's just that with the convenience of suppressants, she never got the urge.

Sakura tried to remember the feeling of being touched by an alpha. The last one she had been with was good enough. She had gotten her off, and that's much more than she can say for any male alpha she had slept with, if you'd even call it that.

She remembers the touch of the alpha's fingers down her chest. As she imagined it in her head, Sakura reached her hand beneath her shirt, cupping her breast. They were much more sensitive than usual. She let out a sigh of relief as she used one of her fingertips to run her finger over the peak of her nipple.

Fuck she needed more so much more. Sakura could feel the stickiness between her legs growing. She tried to remember the way the alpha pushed her fingers in. Sakura slides her free hand beneath her shorts. She shivers at her cold hands nearing her most sensitive area. She let out a breathy moan as she rubbed herself over her panties. Before quickly biting her lip in an attempt to stifle it, she remembered the hybrid still residing in her house. Thinking about if she could hear her. What would Zuha do? Sakura's mind wandered.

Would Zuha come barging into her room? Rip off her shorts and panties and fuck her right there. Her strong arms could so easily hold her down. Sakura's hand traveled beneath her panties, swiping her fingers over her sensitive core. She's so wet. She reached her hand, previously cupping her breast down to tug down her shorts and panties. The room's cold air made her groan as she felt it hit her core.

She teased her entrance, slowly sinking one of her fingers inside. It wasn't enough, not even close. She craved something deeper. She thinks about Zuha's hands and how much bigger they are than hers. She can recall the touch of them when Zuha would be in the kitchen helping her cook, and she wanted a taste of whatever Sakura was cooking and she'd grab her hand to bring the food into her mouth. Her entire hand wrapped around her hands, almost comedically big.

She can't help but think about her long, slender fingers inside her. How deep they'd reach inside, how much they'd stretch her out.

Fuck Sakura moans, that's what she needs. She needs someone to stretch her out, fuck her deep inside. She needs to feel them. She needs to feel Zuha. She's taken glances at the hybrid bulge way more than she'd like to admit despite having bought underwear, shorts, and pants that actually fit her. The hybrid just never bothered to wear more than just shorts around the house, leaving really nothing to the imagination, which was working in Sakura's favor right now.

Not to mention the hybrids body. She felt like a pervert for even thinking about it. The hybrid still wasn't very good at bathing herself, so Sakura was the one to do it for her. And throughout bathing her, Sakura's gaze couldn't happen but wander. The hybrid had a strong, fit body. Sakura would watch as the water flowed down her skin, over her toned abs. She would find herself getting caught up staring at her body.

She slipped another finger inside easily. She was so wet. She pumped her fingers in as deep as she could, just barely grazing the spot she needed it the most. Sakura's eyes tightened as she teetered closer to her orgasm. She could feel herself starting to drip onto the sheets. She slipped another finger in, the filthy sounds of her pussy filling the room. She lowered one of her hands to her clit, making her let out a high-pitched moan. She started rubbing her clit in a slow and light, as she tried so desperately with her other fingers to fill herself.

It felt good, sure, but it wasn't what she craved. She needed to be full. She needed to be fucked. For fucks sake, she needed to be fucked by the hybrid. She wanted to feel how deep Zuhas cock would reach inside, how much she'd stretch her out. How would it feel to be fucked by her? Would the hybrid be rough or gentle with her, she wonders. She needed it. She was getting closer, she could feel her wrist aching in exhaustion, but her other hand made up for it as she rubbed her clit faster.

Sakura dragged her hips against her fingers, desperately trying to get them as deep as they could go. She didn't even care to muffle her moans. It was not like they'd do much anyway with how loud she was being. Her breaths started hitching as she quicked her wrist movements in a last burst of energy. In tandem with her movement on her clit, Sakura came with a loud moan. As she felt her body spasming, her feet planted on the bed, gripping the sheets.

Her breath started to calm down after a couple of moments. She slowly retracted her hand from her nether regions. Sakura couldn't help it. She felt empty in more ways than one.

Perhaps it has to do with her still heat-cluttered mind. But she wished the hybrid was next to her. Not just for the most obvious reason, but she felt so cold, so alone on her bed. Sakura thought about the feeling of the hybrid arms wrapped around her as she started to drift asleep.

#miyawaki sakura #sakura #miyawaki sakura smut #nakamura kazuha #kazuha #nakamura kazuha smut #le sserafim #lesserafim smut #idol x idol #girl group smut #kpop smut #g!p

[stylesloveclub]

Pleasing

In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. (part 1)

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Y/n didn’t really want to be a waitress. 

She doesn’t suppose anyone does, really. It certainly wasn’t the most flattering title― having to wait on other people, or deal with the nasty attitudes of the entitled celebrities and CEO’s that chose to eat at Pleasing―  the high class restaurant that she worked at. But, it was what she had to do. College wasn’t cheap, and y/n needed some form of income to help pay her way through.

She’d worked a lot of jobs to support herself before she ended up at Pleasing― she’d been a barista at the campus coffee shop, a receptionist at the bookstore, and had even tried becoming a tour guide for the little high schoolers that came for campus tours! But... the managers on campus expected far too much from their full-time student employees. Y/n swears they purposefully gave her the shifts that ended 10 minutes before her classes started so that she’d have to run all the way from one end of campus to the other. And, they didn’t even pay well! With the amount she was paying for tuition, she expected that her school would’ve at least been able to pay their employees more than just minimum wage! 

That’s why, after quitting her last attempt at a campus job, y/n decided to go job hunting in the nice part of town. Sure, it was a bit far from the one bedroom college apartment she lived in… but in her opinion, the 30 minute walk was entirely worth it.

The buildings downtown were a completely different world from the university buildings she had initially limited herself to. All the venues were high class, with chandeliers and marble floors and air conditioning. 20 floor tall corporate buildings painted the sky, bustling with men wearing $50,000 watches and women in pantsuits that probably cost more than y/n’s entire wardrobe. Across the street from those skyscrapers were shopping centers with department stores that had that same high-class, expensive look to them. They were the kind of designer stores that served their shoppers champagne while they looked at luxury bags and expensive shoes― the kind of stores that laughed at y/n when she stumbled in with her tote bag and tattered shoes, asking for job openings. 

She knew that she wasn’t the type of person who belonged in that area. She was a broke college student― the most expensive thing she had in her closet was a pair of boots that she’d splurged on after she soaked her only pair of sneakers while walking to class in the rain. But her brokenness was the precise reason that she needed a job in the part of the city where it was a social norm to tip more than 20%. 

She considers herself superbly lucky that she’d mustered up the courage to go into Pleasing after an entire day of being laughed out of stores due to her “lack of elegance and sophistication” or whatever the fuck they managed to criticize her for. Somehow, she’d stumbled into the restaurant on the very same night that one of the other waitresses had been fired! (If she thinks hard enough, she vaguely remembers a girl wearing an apron running out of the restaurant crying, but she hadn’t paid any mind to it at the time as she was too distracted by the glittering chandelier that hung from the sitting room ceiling.)

Pleasing’s staff manager (an older, balding man named Alfredo, who had a mustache that twisted up at the ends and carried a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off of his forehead every five minutes), had been so frantic at the fact that they were yet another waitress short, that y/n had nearly been hired on the spot. She only received a brief interview that consisted of a few questions about her past experience in the service industry and a quick briefing on the importance of maintaining a high class appearance and treating their customers with the utmost respect. Y/n blindly agreed to all of this, and even hummed her agreement a few times just to butter Alfredo up, figuring that it wouldn’t be too hard to maintain a classy facade while dealing with these high-class customers. If it paid the bills, then she could pretend to be anything. 

Her job offer was a quick, “You’re cute enough. Be here tomorrow at 6, your uniform will be provided― hair must be up, shoes must be black, and smile must always be on!” …and that was how she started. 

She had somewhat of an idea of how expensive a restaurant Pleasing actually was from the general atmosphere of the place― but when she saw the menu… that’s when she truly realized that she was in the world of the upper-class. Each plate was $70, at minimum, and there was always a bottle of $200 wine to accompany the meal. The food was served on the most expensive fine china y/n had ever seen, with the kind of silver cutlery that she thinks you could only find in Buckingham Palace. The patrons had an unspoken dress code, with the men dressed in well pressed suits and button downs, and the ladies in cocktail dresses and sparkling diamonds. There was no sign of children anywhere, and she wondered if that was just because the rich people who ate at Pleasing were too busy making money to make babies… or if it was just a child-free restaurant. 

When she showed up for her first day (with her hair twisted into a bun, a pair of black ballet flats that she got in the clearance bins of one of the department stores nearby, and an anxious smile plastered on her face!) Alfredo assigned her to spend the entire shift shadowing one of the other waitresses (Grace) to ensure that she knew exactly what kind of hospitality was expected towards the people they served. As they walked from table to table, she gave y/n the rundown of how Pleasing worked. Apparently, the restaurant was owned by this millionaire chef who rarely ever actually cooked at the restaurant. He had four Michelin stars (y/n doesn’t really know what that means but she guesses it means he’s a good cook) and usually was traveling around the world, cooking for royals and politicians and all sorts of important people. 

Occasionally, he would have special nights where he would come back for “In-Chef Nights” as they called it, nights where people were willing to pay nearly a thousand dollars just to have their food cooked by Chef Styles― the world-renowned, multi-millionaire, gourmet chef. Those were the busiest nights of the year at Pleasing, according to Grace, but they only happened maybe once a month. Even on the nights Chef Styles wasn’t there, however, having the Styles name tied to the restaurant was enough for people to want a table at the restaurant to try his famous recipes and quality service. 

“He’s kind of a big deal,” Grace had whispered to y/n while grabbing a saffron and lobster Risotto from the counter to take out to a couple seated on the restaurant balcony. “I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard he’s super intimidating. Kinda mean too, he fires people all the time if they aren’t up to his standards.”

From that night when she was hired, all the way into about a month of working at Pleasing, y/n had never had an encounter with Mr. Styles either. She’d been allowed to start waiting on tables by herself starting her second night there, and quickly came to learn that the customers that she served were… not ordinary.

Simply put, the people who ate at Pleasing were all… pompous, rich assholes with no decency or basic manners. They barely acknowledged y/n when she was serving them, gave her nasty side-eyes when she smiled at them, and made her feel downright awful from the way they looked down on her. 

There was always some douchebag who would try to sweet talk y/n in exchange for a free cocktail, or a middle-aged woman who would complain about everything and demand that her food be sent back to the kitchen. They’d make up some bullshit about how they had asked for no sesame seeds on their curry, when y/n knew damn well that they hadn’t mentioned anything about any sort of seeds when she had taken their order. Old men would blatantly stare at her chest, while their younger, model dates would make snarky comments about how y/n’s ballet flats were so last season while she walked away from their tables. She didn’t even know that there was a season for shoes, but it still hurt her feelings! 

Now normally, y/n was able to put up a strong front and just ignore the rude customers. She’d force a smile and a polite “I’m sorry to hear that miss, let me get you a new plate right away,” and just imagine punching those people in the face to help herself calm down. 

But tonight… it all just got to be too much. She’d already had a shitty day at school― she’d slept through her alarm and was late to her morning class, had a physics midterm that she’s pretty sure she failed, and accidentally left her calculus notebook at her apartment, which meant she had to take her calculus notes in her physics notebook instead (and she really hates when her notes get mixed up because she honestly has no idea what's going on in either class anyway so it just becomes extra confusing!!!).

So when one of her customers with graying hair and obvious anger issues threw his drink on y/n and called her an ‘incompetent, stupid girl’ after he decided that his merlot hadn’t been chilled properly… well y/n really couldn’t hold back the tears for much longer. 

She managed to politely tell the man that she’d send someone to clean up and help him resolve the issues with his meal, before scurrying to the kitchen to find Grace.

“Oh, what’s wrong sweetheart!” Grace coos as soon as she sees y/n’s tear glazed eyes and stained shirt. 

“H-he threw his drink on me,” she blubbers out, her hands rubbing furiously at her eyes as if she could just erase the tears threatening to spill. 

Grace gasps, “He didn’t! Oh, I’ll go out there n’give him a piece of my mind right now, bubbles. You need a second to get yourself together?” 

Y/n nods, sniffling harshly and letting out a shaky breath. 

“M’kay,” Grace pulls her in for a hug, “you go and sit outside for however long y’need, ‘n I’ll cover the rest of your tables until you’re ready, ‘kay? I’ll try n’find you a shirt too sweetie, don’t worry about anything, just go n’get some fresh air.” 

Y/n bleats out a small (but gracious) thank you, before running out of the back entrance to the employee parking lot behind the restaurant. She just needs a little bit of time for herself, a second to let all the tears out and to cry her troubles away. A moment to just privately recollect herself so that she could go back to work with a fresh mind. 

She’s startled when she finds that the parking lot isn't empty the way she’d expected. Instead, she steps out and sees two guys. One of them she recognizes as Kevin – an assistant chef who works in the kitchen― but the other one is facing away from her, just an intimidating figure in the dark. The mystery man stands a few inches taller than Kevin, dressed in a dark, well-pressed suit that seems as though it’s been tailored to fit him perfectly. The jacket compliments his broad shoulders and lean waist, cutting off right above his hips to show the way his pants hug his thighs. They flare out at the bottom elegantly to reveal a pair of sleek, black boots with a small heel on them. 

Y/n is so intrigued by the mystery man, that she doesn’t even realize that she’s walked in on a heated discussion between the two of them. “You could’ve fuckin’ killed a customer!” the man yells at Kevin, “Cos’ your head was up y’fuckin ass! You’re lucky they noticed there were peanuts in the lady’s meal or else we would’ve had to call a fucking ambulance n’ it would’ve been on your ass!” 

Y/n thinks they might be talking about the one customer that came in tonight with a severe nut allergy, but she’s not entirely sure.

Kevin holds his poofy little chef hat in his hands as he pipes up, “I was just―”

“You were what? Too busy texting y’pals to pay attention to the notes on the order? There’s a fucking rule against having your phone in the kitchen for a reason you idiot!” The man shakes his head exasperatedly and lets out a disbelieving sigh, “Get out of here, you’re fired. Don’t even think about puttin’ this restaurant on your references because m’not gonna say anything nice.” 

As Kevin stomps away angrily, the man turns on his heel and heads back towards the restaurant, finally allowing y/n to see his face. He’s not someone she’s ever seen around the restaurant before, but considering how he just fired someone, she assumes he must be important. Despite the way his green eyes glimmer prettily in the outdoor lighting, the man is terribly intimidating, with furrowed eyebrows and a hard glare. When those hard eyes flicker up to look at y/n, who’s still standing in the doorway, she feels her heart skip a beat. 

“What are you doing out here?” the man asks her, a harsh bite to his tone. Y/n flinches, not ready to face yet another dickhead that might make her cry. 

“Um,” she sniffles, wiping away her tears and stuttering out in the most put-together voice she can muster, “A-a customer spilled their wine on me so I’m just, um, quickly cleaning up.”

He steps closer to her, now standing directly in front of her and looking down. He’s a head taller than her, his heeled boots giving him an extra inch that just adds to his intimidating demeanor. 

He had immediately recognized the waitressing uniform that she was wearing, and had been incredibly irritated at the thought of another one of his employees slacking off on such a busy night. But when he hears her shaky voice and sees her tear-stained cheeks… he lets a little bit of the sternness in his voice fade away, eyes softening just the slightest bit. Not too much (he couldn’t have one of his employees thinking he was a big softie…), but just enough so that he maybe wouldn’t make her feel worse than she already seemed to.

“Come with me,” he orders, brushing past her and trusting that she’d follow behind him. Knowing that this guy must be important, she doesn’t hesitate one bit, her head down as she trails after him like a lost puppy, trying to hide her puffy eyes and sniffly nose from the rest of the staff. He leads her into a room that she’s never been in, some sort of office with plaques hanging on the walls and a big, professional desk covered in paperwork. 

He pulls out a chair and gestures towards it. “Sit.”

She plops down obediently, and a soft smirk dimples his cheek.

“Good,” he says. “Now stay.” 

She nods.

With that, he steps out of his office and closes the door behind him. He hadn’t expected to be cooking at all tonight, but with the hurt little puppy sitting in his office, he really felt as though he had no choice!

“Evening Mr. Styles,” one of the chefs in the kitchen greets him, “Everything alright?” 

“Yes, thank you Teddy,” Harry responds pleasantly, Teddy being one of his first and favorite chefs to come work for him at Pleasing, “Can y’get one of the stove tops ready for me? Need to make something really quickly.” 

“Of course, sir,” Teddy wipes his hands dry, “I’m assuming Kevin won’t be coming back?” 

Harry shakes his head in confirmation, the furrow in his brow returning at the thought of the ignorant chef. He’d need to have a talk with Alfredo about the recent hires – his business was better than someone as careless as Kevin.

“Y’can take his station then,” Teddy offers. “S’still hot, pots all cleaned too.” 

Taking off his suit and rolling up the sleeves of his button down, he decides to make her a little bit of mac n cheese― a classic comfort food, right? Except, because he’s Harry Styles (aka one of the best chefs in the nation), he takes it to the next level. The pasta is fresh and handmade in their kitchen, parmesan grated from a gigantic sphere that was imported from France, with truffle oil and Italian basil to top it all off. He doesn’t even bother trying it; if he made it, then he knows it’s good. 

Plating the dish is second nature to him, easily displaying the pasta and putting decorative herbs and dollops of Béchamel sauce around the main meal. With a single fork in hand, he grabs the plate and takes it back to his office.

The waitress jumps up in her seat when Harry pushes the door open, startled by his entrance and generally just intimidated by his sharp jawline and gorgeous face. Her eyes widen at the sight of the food in his hand, glimmering with excitement that she fails to conceal. It’s cute, Harry admits to himself, the way she perks up like an excited little puppy at the sight of a gourmet meal. He puts the plate in front of her and sticks the fork in her hand. 

She looks up at him with wide eyes, and doesn’t make a move to start eating until Harry tells her to “try it,” as if she had been waiting for his permission to dig in. “Mm!” her eyes flutter shut as she chews the creamy pasta, “I didn’t even know we had this on the menu, it’s so good!” 

It actually wasn’t on the menu, but he wasn’t going to ruin her fun.

“Have you tried some of this? S’so yummy, you have to try some!” she tells him, sticking a forkful out for him to try. He wants to tell her that he already knows it’s good because he made it, but– just to humor her– he wraps his lips around the fork and eats it straight from her hand. He tries not to visibly show how pleased he is with the reaction he gets from her― her mouth falls slightly ajar and her eyes stare at his plump, pink lips as they pull off of the fork. 

“Mm,” Harry hums, a slight teasing lilt to his words, “oh yeah, that is really good.” He lets her praise the food a little bit more before casually asking, “I put a little truffle oil on there, could you tell?” 

She pauses mid-chew and asks slowly, “Y-you made this?” He nods smugly, a smirk plastered on his face. 

She had assumed a chef in the kitchen had just randomly put this together… not for this man to go out in his fancy clothes to make her a plate of the best mac n cheese she’s ever had. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize you were one of the chefs here,” she stutters out. “m’kind of new at the restaurant… the pasta was really good, I like the kind of earthy, garlic-y taste, is that the truffle oil― “

She’s cut off by a knock on the door and a concerned looking Grace stumbling in saying, “Y/n, are you in here― oh!” Grace’s eyes widen and her jaw drops a bit before she splutters, “Oh, I’m so sorry for interrupting Mr. Styles.” 

“What is it?” he asks, not so nicely.

Grace’s eyes flicker to y/n, “I― um, just brought an extra shirt for y/n, sir. Since her other uniform got ruined.” She places the shirt on the table right next to the door, “I’ll just leave it right here, excuse me sir.” 

With a nod, Harry gives Grace permission to leave the room and shut the door behind her, the blonde waitresses scurrying out of the room as quickly as she can. When his head turns back to y/n, her eyes are wide and surprised. 

This was Mr. Styles? As in, the world famous, Michelin star chef? As in the owner of this multi-million dollar restaurant? As in her literal boss? 

She was just casually sitting here, eating a plate of gourmet mac-n-cheese with a guy who just so happened to be her boss, when she was supposed to be out there working? 

Her demeanor immediately changes, and Harry can see that y/n is finally connecting all the dots in her head. That smug smirk of his spreads on his lips once more, an amused dimple in his cheek as he props his chin in his hand and watches the way y/n puts the fork down and sits up straighter. 

“Um― thank you for the meal Mr. Styles,” she stammers, slowly rising from her seat, “I suppose I should get back to work now…”

“Nonsense,” he says. She sits back down immediately. “You’ll stay here and finish your food. Someone else will cover your tables for you.” 

“Yes sir,” she squeaks politely. Harry’s beyond amused by how she suddenly turned into this polite little girl as soon as she realized who he was, and thinks he could get used to the words sir and Mr. Styles falling from her heart shaped lips. 

He asks her a bunch of questions while she’s eating, and y/n briefly worries if that’s his way of trying to decide if he should fire her or not. She’s really trying to be on her best behavior, using her most polite voice and etiquette when talking to him ― but things are kind of slipping because Harry’s eyes are flickering all over her face and he’s so put together and intimidating and hot and it’s making her nervous!!! She’s stumbling over her words and forgetting the answers to simple questions because she’s so distracted by his sharp jawline, and honestly… Harry loves it.  He loves how shy and polite she is, and loves seeing the way he can get her all flustered. That’s honestly the only reason he keeps interrogating her ― just to hear her cute little yes sir and no sir and to see how she nervously bites her lips between each question. 

When she’s finished with her food and the redness of her eyes has died down, Harry cleans up her plate for her and throws her the shirt that Grace had brought. “Take the rest of the night off,” he says, opening his office door to step out and give her a bit of privacy so she can change. “Next time I won’t be so easy on you, okay?”

She stands up, alert and still buzzing with nerves and peeps out a final “Yes sir!” before Harry closes the door, shaking his head with a small chuckle.

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Grace really wasn’t kidding when she warned y/n about how busy Pleasing could get when Chef Styles was cooking. 

From the moment she arrived to the moment the very last table finished dining, y/n was on her feet. She’d barely managed to put her stuff down in the staff room before Alfredo was pushing her out into the dining hall, muttering something about “Chef Styles” and “is going to kill me.” They had back to back reservations, a waitlist with nearly a three hour delay, and a bustling kitchen packed with chefs. The waiters were buzzing between tables like little bees, constantly checking on customers and rushing to the back counter to pick up meals and deliver them to tables. Laughter and conversation rang throughout the entire restaurant, echoing on the high ceilings and glass chandeliers, chaotically harmonizing with the sizzling of vegetables and clatter of pots that came from the kitchen. 

Mr. Styles worked gracefully despite all the chaos ensuing around him. He always made sure that everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing before any customers arrived to ensure that there would be no screw ups or accidents, and nobody dared stray away from the job Chef Styles assigned them. Dressed in his white chef’s suit with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, he prepped each meal in the blink of an eye and moved on to the next dish immediately – quick, efficient, and absolutely delicious. 

By the end of the night, his feet are pounding from standing up for seven hours straight and his fingers (which are normally quite nimble and flexible) feel stiff and just about ready to fall off. He supervises the staff as they close the restaurant for the night, helping them do the dishes and wrap cutlery in preparation for opening tomorrow, and waits in his office until he’s the last one in the restaurant. Sometime between the time the last customer left and the time that he’s about to leave the restaurant it starts to rain outside. So, before shutting off the lights, he grabs an umbrella, and finally leaves his office at about 2:30 in the morning. 

The sound of his boots clicking against the polished tile floor is all that can be heard as he walks through the foyer, his head down as he types out a message on his phone – that is, until he hears a tiny, kitten-like sneeze.

He stops in his tracks, looking up, and stares hard into the darkness. He takes a few, cautious steps closer towards the door, until he can make out a faint silhouette.  It’s y/n – bundled up in a cute little hoodie with what he presumes is her university’s logo embroidered on the front, and her bag clutched tightly to her chest.

“Y/n,” he calls out. “What are you still doing here?” 

She jumps at the sound of his voice, her shoulders tense as she timidly walks out of the corner she’d seemingly been hiding in. “Oh, I’m just waiting for the rain to lighten up a little bit before I walk home, Mr. Styles. Promise I’ll leave soon!” 

His eyes nearly pop out of his head – walk home? At this time of night? He strides over to where she’s standing, “Have y’not got a car? Or a metro pass, at least?”

“No, no car…” she explains with a small frown on her face, “N’the metro near my school doesn’t come up towards downtown. S’too fancy around here for a sketchy little metro.”

He looks down at the way she’s hugging herself tightly, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her sweatshirt in an effort to keep warm. She’ll freeze to death if she tries to walk home, he thinks to himself. Even wrapped in his expensive Burberry coat, the thought of walking in that rainy weather sends a chill down his spine. 

He sighs. “Come on,” he says, “M’not letting you walk home in the rain.”

He opens the restaurant doors and sticks his umbrella out first, opening it and stepping under seamlessly so that not even a drop of rain stains his suit. She blinks at him dumbfounded. Still holding the door, he gestures for y/n to follow him, “Come on pup, haven’t got all day.” 

She scurries under the umbrella with him, standing close as he locks the door behind them. The rain is pounding down hard and his umbrella isn’t very large, so he wraps an arm around her waist and hastily guides her to his car. 

Now, y/n’s no expert on cars, but the large, black range rover that her boss unlocks the doors to seems like a pretty fancy car! She struggles to climb into the passengers side when Mr. Styles opens the door for her, so he holds a hand out to help her up into the seat and shuts the door behind her. As she buckles herself in, he quickly runs over to the driver’s seat, shaking his umbrella off outside and carelessly throwing it in the backseats. 

He notices that y/n’s arms are still wrapped around herself super tightly, trying to hide that her whole body is shivering from the cold, so as soon as he turns the car on, he leans over to her side and turns the heat up for her. That – along with the press of a few more buttons on the center console that turns on the heated seating – has y/n sighing blissfully as she sinks back into the comfy leather seats.

“Thank you so much Mr. Styles,” she says, wiggling her fingers happily in front of the blasting hot air. 

“You would’ve frozen to death if you walked home in this weather,” he grumbles, pulling out his phone and handing it to her. “Put in y’address.”

She does as he says obediently, her numb fingers making her fumble a little bit when she tries to type on his phone – the latest iphone, she notices from the extra two cameras on the back. 

He glances briefly at the location she’s typed in, before flicking on his windshield wipers and reversing out of his reserved parking spot. 

His speakers automatically started playing some soft classical music, creating a gentle atmosphere in the otherwise silent car. As he’s driving, he can see her fidgeting around nervously in her seat. Her fingers twist anxiously in her lap, the inside of her cheek being assaulted by her nervous chewing, and she keeps looking over at Harry, burning holes in the side of his head.

“Have I got something on my face?” he asks abruptly. 

“W-what?” 

“Y’keep staring,” he explains, glancing over at her when they stop at a red light. To no surprise, he catches her… staring at him. She quickly turns away, opting to stare at her hands instead. 

“Sorry,” she says, “I was just… watching you drive.”

He snorts. “Watching me drive?”

She fumbles over her words, struggling to explain herself. “Yeah, you’re just– like you… you just drive really cool.” She only realizes how stupid she sounds once the words come out of her mouth. 

“I drive cool?” 

She grimaces and turns to him slowly, “M’sorry, that probably doesn’t make any sense.”

His expression is entirely amused, a smirk on his face that he’s trying to cover with his hand. “Please, explain it to me then,” he begs with a teasing tone. 

“You’re just like, driving with one hand on the wheel and listening to this fancy music in your fancy car… it just looks like you’re from a movie or something.” Not to mention how sharp his jawline looked from the side. Or how attractive the furrow in his brow was. Or how his white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves to reveal his strong, tattooed forearms. But she wasn’t about to say all that to him. She needs to stop talking before she embarrasses herself any further! “It’s stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll stop staring.”

“Didn’t say I minded it,” he says simply. With a teasing smirk still planted on his face, he pulls up in front of y/n’s apartment complex. Despite the fact that it’s pouring outside, Harry still offers to walk her up to her door.

“Oh no, I couldn’t make you do that!” He’d already gone out of his way to drive her home, she thinks making him get out of his car just to walk her up would be asking way too much of her boss.

“At least take the umbrella then,” he says, grabbing it from the back and giving it to her. She opens her mouth to protest, but he gives her this look that makes her just shut up and take it. 

“Thanks, Mr. Styles. I really appreciate it.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Just don’t forget it next time it’s scheduled to rain.” 

He watches as she opens the apartment door, and only pulls away after she’s turned back, waved at him, and closes the door behind her. 

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When y/n walks to the restaurant the next day, it’s raining once again. She takes Mr. Styles’ umbrella with her to shield her from the drizzle, and arrives at the restaurant a bit breathless, but nonetheless dry. 

As she’s clocking in, Harry happens to walk past. He sees his umbrella in her hand, droplets dripping onto the floor, and smiles to himself. 

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Harry’s grown some sort of… fondness towards y/n. 

How could he not? The first time he’d met her she’d been crying, looking up at him with her puppy dog eyes and tear stained cheeks. She’d complimented his cooking, and been all sweet and polite while he talked to her, calling him sir and Mr. Styles with her pouty lips. 

And then when he’d driven her home… she looked so pretty sitting in the front seat of his car, rambling on and on about his cool driving and fancy car. It made him soft! She was young and innocent and just the cutest little thing. He loves how flustered she gets when he teases her, how she fumbles over her words when she doesn’t know what to say. So you really can’t blame him for keeping his eye on her. 

Whenever he’s in his office, he’ll keep his ears open in hopes of hearing her pretty voice ringing through the halls, escorting guests or calling out orders to the chefs. He loves listening to her chat with the cooks, and finds himself laughing silently at some of her silly remarks. (“Guys help!!! Where are the oysters from? Like are they local? I know it’s a stupid question but one of the customers wants to know! Should I lie and say they’re imported from the Caribbean? Like… how would they know that I’m lying? Okay, fine whatever I’ll just say they’re caught locally every morning! Thanks bye!!!”)

With this newfound fondness, he’s also grown quite… protective of her. He often talks with Alfredo to see if y/n’s been getting along with the other waiters, and discretely checks that she hasn’t encountered any other rude or disrespectful customers. He figures that he’d prefer to kick some snobby lady out of his restaurant rather than see y/n all teary eyed again.

These smushy feelings are all new to Harry, and he doesn’t really know what they meant just yet… all he knows is that he had a soft spot for y/n. And he’ll be damned if he didn’t show a bit of favoritism towards her. 

Sitting in his office, working on some paperwork for the building, he hears her shuffling down towards the kitchen. (Yes, with how attentive he’s been recently, he’s learned to distinguish the sounds of her footsteps from the rest of the waiters.)

“‘Scuse me Edgar!” she calls out to one of the cooks, “Y’know the cod that you’re working on for table 67? She just asked for the romesco to be put on the side instead. D’ya think you could change that real quick?”

“Man, are you kidding me y/n! I already put it on there!”

“I know, I know I’m sorry!” she whines embarrassedly, cheeks heating at the bite in Edgar’s voice, “she just stopped me right now and asked for it!”

Edgar gives y/n an exasperated sigh, “Great, m’gonna have to make a new one! And we’re so fuckin’ busy tonight, this is fuckin’ brilliant–” 

“Hey!” Harry’s assertive voice booms through the kitchen, cutting Edgar off mid-rant. “S’not her fault that the lady changed her order, is it?” His stern gaze is burning on Edgar, making his cheeks turn red. 

“No sir,” the chef responds apologetically.

“Apologize to y/n.”

Edgar turns to her, “Sorry y/n. Wasn’t your fault, m’just being hot headed for no reason.”

“S’okay, I get it. It’s frustrating,” she says softly, shocked at the fact that Mr. Styles was making one of the chefs apologize to her! She’s just a silly little waitress! She was used to being belittled by the older, more established staff.

“Good. Don’t want t’hear any complaining from anyone, or else you’re getting fired. Understood?”

A chorus of “yes sir” echoes around the kitchen. 

Y/n stands there, speechless at the fact that Mr. Styles had made such a bold move to defend her. When he catches her staring, he simply winks, giving her that cocky smirk of his and turning on his heel, back into his office as if nothing had happened. 

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During her 15 minute break, y/n tiptoes to Mr. Styles’ office and quietly knocks at the door, entering cautiously when she hears him grunt out a less than welcoming “come in.”

“Um, Mr. Styles?” she announces nervously. The furrow in his brow immediately disappears when he recognizes that it’s y/n. “I-I just wanted to say thanks for, um, sticking up for me today? Or- I mean… just thanks for getting the chefs to go easier on me, I guess.” Her fingers twist nervously behind her back, and it’s taking everything in her to look Mr. Styles in the eye when she’s talking to him. His gaze is just so intense, and she has no idea what he’s thinking… it makes her nervous! 

He’s quiet for a second, deliberating what she’s just said, before cracking a smile and shaking his head. “You don’t have t’thank me, pet. M’not gonna let the chefs be dicks to m’favorite waitress.”  

Her heart jumps out of her chest at that, cheeks flushing in a way that she really hopes Mr. Styles can’t see. With this flattery, she can’t help but drop her gaze to her feet, contemplating the floor as she mumbles out, “I– well, still. Thanks.” 

Harry laughs to himself, dragging a hand down his face. She’s so… cute when she’s all flustered like this! It makes him want to tease her all the time. “Yeah, yeah,” he brushes it off playfully, “now get back t’work.” 

She twirls on her heels, ready to run out of the room and freak out about this encounter in the privacy of the employee bathroom.

“Oh, y/n?” Harry calls out just before she walks out the door. She looks back at him with those eager puppy eyes. “M’gonna drive you home tonight as well. Come to my office when you’ve finished your shift and we’ll leave together.”

The smile that lights up her face is one of a giddy school girl with a playground crush. 

“M’kay,” she says casually. But on the inside, she is Freaking. The Fuck. Out.

Yay!!!!

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This time, once the restaurant closes and all the employees and staff have left, y/n doesn’t head out into the darkness for her usual 30 minute walk home.

No, this time she heads towards Mr. Styles’ office, clutching her trusty tote bag to her chest to try and mute the feeling of the butterflies swarming her entire body. She has no idea why Mr. Styles might’ve offered her another ride home. Perhaps he felt bad that she’d been scolded in front of the kitchen today by Edgar, or maybe he just pitied her. 

Whatever the case was, she wasn’t going to question it too much. She’d developed an itty bitty crush on Mr. Styles, so even if he was just giving her a ride home because he felt bad… well, then at least it meant she got to spend some more time with him! 

She knocks on his door and waits for his muffled “come in” before she walks in. A pair of reading glasses are perched on the tip of his nose, reflecting the light of the laptop screen he’s staring at intently. He doesn’t look away from his laptop as he says, “m’almost done.” He gestures mindlessly at the seats in front of his desk when she hovers awkwardly in front of the door. “Sit.”

Her quiet obedience makes him smile as he finishes the last of the emails he wanted to send that night, and with a final press of a button he shuts his laptop. He takes the reading glasses off and stands up, and y/n tries to stare discreetly at his thighs (which are being hugged deliciously by his slacks) as he packs up his things.

She’s not as discreet as she thinks she is, because Harry has to call her name three times before she snaps out of her daydreams. “Where’s your head at, puppy?” he taunts, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. Her cheeks turn warm, and she’s thankful that she doesn’t have to explain herself as she follows him to his car. 

This was gonna be a long ride.

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Y/n doesn’t know how it happened, but she and Mr. Styles have created some sort of arrangement. 

Anytime he’s been in the office for the past two weeks, he’s given her a ride home. She’s tried to tell him that he really doesn’t have to and that the walk home really isn’t that bad (she feels bad for making him drive all the way to her apartment!), but for some reason, he insists!

Secretly, she’s really happy that he’s always offering to drive her home. She gets to spend an extra 15 minutes with him every night, talking to him, looking at him, and getting teased by him. Yes, he has a knack for embarrassing her… but in a way, she actually kind of enjoys it. 

Like all the other nights, she meets him in his office and they walk out together. He holds all the doors open for her, his hand lightly placed on the small of her back as they walk outside. And again, like all the other nights, he opens the passenger’s side door for her and holds a hand out to help her into his car. 

There is one thing that happens differently tonight though. When Harry gets behind the wheel, her stomach lets out the loudest grumble she’s ever heard. 

She shuts her eyes in embarrassment. Of course this would happen. She can only hope that Mr. Styles didn’t hear it.

Unfortunately for her, he chuckles softly, “Are you hungry?”

“A bit,” she replies sheepishly.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

She hesitates, “Um… I had a granola bar right before my physics lecture.”

He pauses. “And when was this lecture?”

“At 1.”

“So you’re telling me,” Harry glances at the time in disbelief, which reads 10:47 PM, “That you haven’t eaten since 1 in the afternoon?”

“Well… I mean, usually I have some food before coming to work! But I went to a study session after class and I lost track of time, so I didn’t have time to eat anything.”

“Tha’s not enough, puppy. You need to bring something to eat during your break or else you’ll pass out.” He puts his hand on the back of her seat and looks behind him to back out of his parking spot. “And, if you don’t have time to eat anything, then I’ll cook something for you.”

“You don’t have to do that Mr. Styles,” she politely refuses. “M’not even that hungry right now.” 

The growl her stomach lets out says otherwise. “Not hungry?” he taunts.

“Okay, maybe a little bit… m’too tired to cook anything though so I’ll probably just have a pop tart or something and call it a night.”

He scoffs, “a pop tart?”

“Yeah, you know those little pastry things? They usually come in that foil packaging and have–”

“I know what a pop-tart is.” A bunch of processed sugars and artificial jam stuffed in a horribly dry crust that spills crumbs everywhere? The thought of eating one absolutely repulses him. “They’re disgusting.”

“Hey, they’re not that bad!” y/n whines defensively. “M’on a student budget! And I’m not that good at cooking, not all of us are gourmet chefs like you.”

He thinks for a second then says, “Well then…how about I take you to mine and cook you a gourmet dinner?”

“What– like, right now?” she bleats. When he nods, she asks, “you would cook me dinner right now?”

“Why s’that so hard to believe?”

Well, first of all he’s her hot boss who is notoriously known for being a hot asshole. Second of all, she has a stupid crush on her hot boss, and can’t actually believe that he’d invite her over to his home. And third of all, and the one she settles for, “Isn’t it a bit late?”

He looks over at her. “Is it past your bedtime?” he asks playfully. She shakes her head no bashfully, face heating at his teasing as he continues, “If it’s not late for you, then it’s not late for me.” 

She sits there and thinks. Obviously she wants to go over to his apartment and spend more time with him! But… gosh, she feels bad! Making him not only drive her home, but also cook her dinner was just asking for too much!

“Y/n,” he interrupts, as if he could read her mind, “stop overthinking it. I want to cook for you, I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t. Will y’let me?”

“I’d really like that,” she admits shyly.

He smiles at her, “My house it is, then.”

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Mr. Styles is rich. Like… super rich. 

His luxury car was only a preview to his luxurious lifestyle. He drives them not far from the restaurant, to a tall, shiny building. He parks his car in the garage and takes y/n through the lobby, his heeled boots clicking against the shiny tiled floors. An elevator takes them up to the 16th floor, and opens to a dark penthouse. Floor to ceiling windows provide a view of the city, the lights of downtown flashing up in a kaleidoscope of colors. The floors are wooden with a cool undertone that complimented the grey walls, and the furniture is all sleek and dark. He leads them to his luxury kitchen and tells her to sit at the highchairs in front of the island.

“What shall I make you?” he asks.

“Um… a grilled cheese?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “You’ve got one of the world’s best chefs in front of you, and you want me to make you a grilled cheese?”

She shrugs, “That’s what I would’ve made myself if I wasn’t so lazy.”

“How about I surprise you with something… a little more special.”

“I feel bad making you cook this late when you’re not even supposed to be working,” she admits as Harry ruffles through his fridge.

“Darling,” he scoffs, “making you a meal is nothing for me. I could do this in my sleep.”

“I dunno, cooking is always such a hassle for me. Y’gotta get all the ingredients right, and make sure nothing burns, and then all the dishes… s’too much work.”

“But finding all the right ingredients and watching over y’food is exactly why I love cooking,” he explains passionately. “S’like… even the slightest thing could change the flavor of your dish, and take it to the next level. It’s so much fun.” He pulls out a pot and fills it with water. “The dishes are a headache though,” he adds teasingly. 

As he waits for the water to boil, he goes to his wine cooler and pulls a bottle out. “Do you like this wine? It’s Chianti 1982, from Montespertoli.”

“Um…” she looks at him helplessly. “I don’t really know much about wine.”

He hums, and pours himself a glass. Then he sits on the stool next to hers. He hooks his foot into the leg of her chair and pulls her stool to him, close enough so that their knees were touching and that she could see the stubble right above his lips. 

He holds up the wine glass as if he were offering a sip, but as soon as her hands come up to steady the glass to her lips, he pulls it away. “Ah ah,” he tuts, “You’ve gotta smell it first.” 

He swirls the wine around under her nose. “What do you smell?” he murmurs.

She takes a deep breath and contemplates it deeply. “...grapes?”

He snickers, “nice try.” He pulls the wine under his own nose and says, “It smells fruity… notes of cherry… plum… oak…” He takes a sip of it. “Mm… it’s light. Smooth.” 

Y/n watches him with wide eyes as he swirls the wine around in the glass and brings it up to his mouth, hyper fixating on his lips. His thick fingers, decorated with a multitude of sparkly rings, delicately wrap around the stem of the glass. And his lips, plump and pink, pucker softly against the rim as he takes another sip. 

His wine-stained tongue peaks out to lick his lips, and her own lips part open with want. 

He takes another enticing sip. “You want some, puppy?” he asks.

She nods her head, looking up at him with her round eyes and parted mouth. He gives her a taste, opting to hold the glass up to her lips as she drinks instead of having her take it from his hands and do it herself. When he feels that she’s had enough, he pulls it away. “What do y’think?”

“S’good,” she says, the tart taste of the wine drying out her tongue. It makes her want more. She looks at Harry with her eager eyes, and he feeds her another sip. This time though, she’s a bit too excited. When he pulls the glass away from her, a little bit of it dribbles down her chin.

He tsks. “Messy girl,” he murmurs. His thumb comes up to swipe at the mess, collecting it and teasing at her bottom lip. He lingers there for a second, before he pushes in, her supple lips parting easily as he slides his finger into her mouth. It rests heavily on her tongue, the acidic flavor of the wine lingering on his finger. She sucks, and his eyes darken. 

“Good girl.” His voice is low and gruff, eyes focused on her lips wrapped around his thumb. He pulls it out slowly, her bottom lip tugging downwards as he does it, and he watches it bounce back into place. 

He drags his eyes away from her lips and back up to her eyes, which are looking at him, wide and curious. Unlike Harry, who can’t stop his eyes from flickering down to her lips, her eyes are glued on him, frozen and waiting for his next move. When he moves the slightest bit closer, her breath catches in her throat. She’s not well versed in all this stuff, but she supposes if he keeps looking at her lips and leaning in, that probably means he wants to kiss her, right? She inches forward to test her theory. He reciprocates. Both of their eyes flutter shut. 

His nose brushes against hers ever so lightly, nudging it to the side, and she lets out a shaky breath when his lips graze hers. With one final tilt of her head, their lips slot together, as if they were two opposite charges connected by a magnetic force. He encases her lips in a soft kiss, her supple bottom lip trapped between his for a second, and his hand comes up to cup her jaw. He doesn’t do anything more than gently kiss her lips – no hot tongue in her mouth, no heavy breathing, nothing that he thinks might overwhelm her. Just a simple kiss, that he pulls away with a soft click.

Her eyelashes flutter open to reveal her moony eyes, looking up at him like an eager puppy. They flicker between his eyes with a mixture of want, confusion, and excitement hidden in her irises. 

He grins down at her. “Let me go check on the water.”

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Part 2 is already up on my patreon!!!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT U THINK!!!! LOVE U GUYS 

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles daddy #daddy harry styles #daddy!harry #daddy!harrystyles #dom harry #dom!harry #harry styles writing #harry writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #ceorry #daddyrry #domrry #ceo!harry

[backfromtwitterforw]

Pomme's diary found in the place she was with Richas (30 first pages)

Day 117

We walked for so long, longer than a day.

Chayanne thinks we'll be safe if we're far enough. I doubt that, because no matter what threatened us manage to find my secured bunker 200 000 blocks away, and even succeded to get into my room to put its letter. Honestly, I think we'll never be really safe anywhere.

Chayanne was panicking so much that we didn't even have time to prepare stuff before leaving. I tried to talk him out ot it, but they were all already gone and I couldn't leave them alone.

At least, I had the reflex to take one of my scythe. And fortunately so.

During our journey, I had to fight a lot of monsters. It's a miracle we all survived without armor or anything else.

We weren't far from death on multiple occasions.

I'll protect them no matter what.

That's a promise.

Day 118

We could build a little improvised camp. We're exhausted from the walk we had, we don"t have alot but it's better than nothing. The most important for now is to survive.

Dapper made a small makeshift field and planted seeds and potatoeshe had collected along the way, while we prepared tools and cut wood.

Tallulah played the flute to try to confort us and give us courage. She even leanred one of my favorite songs on the flute to try to make me smile again.

We make progress, slowly but surely.

Day 119

I think each one of us has tools now. We continued to gather ressources, especially trying to find enough food for everyone, because Dapper's field is not enough. But we didn't have great success, we have to be comptent with the bare minimum. We'll try to build a small shelter tomorrow.

It's hard to do anything because we are all exhausted from the trip. We found materiel to make sleeping bags, so they will finally be able to rest in better conditions.

I'll try to stand guard and watch over them during the night.

Day 120

We were able to start the construction of a small makeshift shelter. It doesn't look great but at least we have something to be protected now.

Truth be told, I haven't slept in a few days, I cannot allow myself to sleep.

We could be attacked at any time, by monsters or by the thing that threatened us. I'm scared it may trace our steps.

On multiple occasions, Chayanne asked me on multiple occasions to share the watch during the night, but I refused systematically.

I'd rather let him rest, and watch over Tallulah during the day. He's the one she trusts the most, he needs to be there to for her, and to protect her.

But I feel the tiredness winning over me.

I fight against exhaution as hard as I can, but I can see my reaction time and my moves becoming slower.

Day 121

The shelter is almost done, I'm so proud of them. They never let themselves be overwhelmed by fear and they do their maximum for everyone to be safe. We watch over one antother and that warms my heart to see it.

On the other side, food is continuously missing.

It soon gonna become a huge problem if we don't find a solution, we won't be able to hold much longer with the ressources we actually have...

I believe it's been a week I haven't slept, I'm trying to stay awake with always being busy. As soon as I am not, I feel my eyes closing by themselves.

It's especially difficult during the night. I spend them looking at the campfire crackling and making sure it doesn't extinguish by itself. We found material to make a lighter, so I play with it to pass the time: I found out the burning feeling is particularly effective to wake me up.

I miss my parents. I miss them excruciatingly.

It's so hard that they're not here with us. I regret all the time that we couldn't leave any note, any letter. They must be terribly worried for us, i feel terribly guilty...

I hope they won't resent us...

Day 122

Dapper amost died.

Dapper.

Almost.

Died.

We were talking about the pending lack of food, and he suggested we could explore the surroundings to find something to eat. I know exploring is something he adores, and he knows better than anyone the different kinds of existing ressources, so I also thought it was a good idea.

I suggested to come with him, but i assured me I didn't have to worry about him, that it wouldn't take him long to come back, and that it would be better for me to stay with the others to watch over them. So, I accepted. I trusted him.

But he went to fight against a skeleton. Or at least, what looked like a normal skeleton, but it wasn't one; this one had an armor and was able to shoot arrows at an abnormal speed, in addition to having knockback.

He thought it was a normal skeleton and attacked. But the skeleton was stronger and knocked him off.

I ran.

I ran so fast, every second mattered.

He cannot die, not like this, not now.

If he dies, I'll never forgive myself.

I managed to find him, and I could finish the skeleton off.

I ran to him to save him, just in time.

With tears in my eyes, I asked if he was ok and why he wanted to attack that monster way to strong for us even though we have no armor and barely any defense.

He just answered that he wanted bones to make bonemill, to speed up the growth of the seeds in the field. And also because he wanted to make a bone mask for Chayanne, since he didn't have his fetish skull.

He was so nonchalant in explaining it all, as if he didn't care about being do close to death.

#i love pomme's diairies so I thought maybe others love them too #since it wasn't a goos rp time to read it for Baghera i gathered the screens i could #sorry for the quality #english is not my first language #so sorry for the mistakes #qsmp #qsmp pomme #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp dapper #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp leo #qsmp eggs #purgatory 2 lore

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. reader wears a dress and is in their late 30s, as is bakugou.

Despite your best hopes, you and Dynamight are late to the charity ball. Not because of anything particularly sexy, at least not this early in your budding relationship, but because traffic decided to be hell at 7pm on a Saturday evening, and while many precious seconds were lost both in his prolonged gaze at your dress and your inability to find the words to tell him how handsome he looks in his suit, there wasn’t much you could do about the highway congestion.

(You’re thankful at least that he respected your suggestion that explosions and chiffon would not mix.)

The two of you manage to shuffle in right before everyone’s finished taking their seats. Katsuki is of course seated with the remainder of the top 5 ranking heroes, and their partners, and he pulls out a chair for you to be seated, your name tag placed right in between him and Deku’s partner. She watches him slide your chair in and help you place your shawl in a safe place, then whispers something to her husband who’s smiling as he always does, splitting glances between the emcee, his wife and his flustered friend.

You try to keep your embarrassment to a minimum, and are thankful when Katsuki finally rubs your shoulders gently before disappearing to the restroom. Now you are alone, warmed in the cheeks and trying to look very interested in the opening speech. No time for introductions, but you can recognize everyone at the table even if you haven’t formally met. Izuku’s partner’s eyes settle on you again and it takes her exactly five minutes to give into finally shifting closer to you, just so she can whisper,

“You know, it’s the first time I think I’ve seen him fuss over someone like that.”

You can feel your body tense ever so slightly, but her demeanor is friendly if a bit playful. She introduces herself in a whisper, despite the fact that you already know who she is, she’s been on the television on and off for the past decade as Number One’s number one. 

“He talks about you all the time,” she adds. You smile, unsure of what to say back except that you’re thankful that you’re finally here to meet his wonderful friends.

You’re new to all of this, and in many ways, feel very much a fish-out-of-water, having lived a quiet life, single and responsible to no one except your well-loved cats. You’ve been on dates in your 20s and have long since lost your interest in the dinner-and-a-movie combo by the time you turned 30, and now that you’re closer to your 40s than you are your 30s, the butterflies in your stomach with every nervous smile or brush of your fingers Katsuki offers you carries a soft twang of embarrassment. You’re too old to be this giddy you think sometimes. 

She says nothing more to you until the speech is over, and Katsuki arrives at the same time as she turns again. Her eyes narrow playfully as Katsuki slips into the chair beside you, slipping his hand over yours on the table. 

“Kacchan, aren’t you sweet?”

He scowls at her, but his hand doesn’t move. Shoto, you can see from across the table, looks curiously at your joined hands while Izuku pulls his partner in and gently reminds her not to worry you. He’s quick to introduce himself as well with a firm but not-too-firm handshake.

“We’re so delighted to meet you,” he says. Red Riot gets up from his seat and claps Katsuki on the shoulder, and it’s loud enough that it startles you a bit, but he’s grinning ear to ear as he looks at the both of you.

“We were beginning to think you’d die alone!” he exclaims, which has Katsuki gritting his teeth. 

“Will any one of you stop acting like I’ve never had a date before?” He’s seething and you try to stifle a giggle. He hears you and his head snaps in your direction, but your smile quickly softens his look of betrayal. He scoots his chair in and holds your hand tighter.

“Act normal,” he hisses to the rest of them, and the lights dim again for the next speech while Izuku and his wife keep sneaking glances at you and giggling, huddled together, as if they are kids themselves.

You on the other hand are gleeful but keep your laughter internal. Katsuki leans in and asks you what’s so funny, but you both know.

You’d think you’d all known each other since you were kids, the way Katsuki’s friends have so easily assimilated you into the group, and it only mirrors the way you’ve always felt since you’ve met him.

That things have fallen in place, perhaps late, but better than never.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

[4izawas]

𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐒!

welcome to kinktober losers, hope ur ready to get fucked by ur faves.

this year’s theme is age gaps. every fic’ll have a minimum ten year age gap between the reader and the character, so prepare yourselves for that. as always, all fics in the five part fic set will contain cursing and nsfw themes, with potential dark content. all characters are age 30 or older. all works contain age gaps. not your thing? click off now.

please block the tag — kinktober_23.♡ if you don’t want to read any entries.

♡┊𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟏, 𝐨𝐜𝐭. 𝟑 ; 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 [ 𝐆𝐈. | 𝟐.𝟔𝟏𝐤. ].

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓! ( 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋! ) | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “You’re nothing but a filthy temptress,” he groans, pressing his forehead against the soft skin between your shoulderblades. “All you do is beg for my cock — is there nothing else in that empty little head of yours?”

𝐭𝐰: previously established relationship, age gap, breeding kink, reader is neuvillette’s assistant, secret relationship, workplace relationship, degradation, creampies, office sex, mentions of future pregnancy.

♡┊𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐, 𝐨𝐜𝐭. 𝟗 ; 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬 [ 𝐇𝐒𝐑. | 𝟑.𝟏𝟐𝐤. ].

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 ( 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐮𝐫 ) | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more, everything I ever searched the stars for…” he whispers in your ear through a pleased sigh, “I love you.”

𝐭𝐰: age gap, creampies, previously established relationship, reader and welt have been together five years pre-caelus and have known each other at least fifteen, oral sex ( fem receiving ), riding, choking ( male receiving ), marriage proposals, reader catching feelings.

♡┊𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟑, 𝐨𝐜𝐭. 𝟏𝟕 ; 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 [ 𝐀𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐖. | 𝟒.𝟏𝟗𝐤. ].

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊! | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “Soon, I will make you my wife,” he promises softly, holding her hands to his chest, and Y/N looks up at him with eyes that reflect a million stars as she smiles.

𝐭𝐰: age gap, soft dom tonowari, mentioned past bottom tonowari, romance-oriented, reader is besties w neteyam ( they’ve had some sexytimes tho so besties w benefits real ), bi neteyam supremacy, bi reader too bitch, cockwarming, previously established relationship, secret to not-so-secret relationship, reader and neteyam are twenty, canon divergent world building ( metkayina olo’eyktans commonly have multiple wives, etc ), jealousy.

♡┊𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟒, 𝐨𝐜𝐭. 𝟐𝟑 ; 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 [ 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀. | 𝟗.𝟑𝟎𝐤. ].

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊! | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”

𝐭𝐰: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.

♡┊𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟓, 𝐨𝐜𝐭. 𝟑𝟏 ; 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦 [ 𝐍. | 𝟑.𝟎𝟔𝐤. ].

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐒 - 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓! | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐤𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “Y’gotta shut that pretty mouth before you get us caught,” Kakashi moans, his callused hands grasping at your hips as the water sloshes around you. “F-Fuck, that feels good…”

𝐭𝐰: age gap, jonin reader, spoilers for season 2 of naruto, teen death mentions, kakashi & reader are friends, exhibitionism, public sex, bath sex, spit swallowing, biting, creampies, minor cockwarming ( briefly ), y’all nasty af idk what else to tell u homie, previously established relationship.

#kinktober #— kinktober_23.♡ #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #genshin impact x reader #naruto x reader #atwow x reader

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 6/8

Angst up ahead. Sorry. I had to rough things up a bit so they didn't get together too soon. But hey, at least it's Halloween. And yes, this was actually something my friends and I used to do for Halloween. It was fun.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

***

October in the Midwest was as beautiful as it was harsh. The temperature would take a sharp decline around this time of year, and if you weren’t prepared you could get caught outside in cold ass weather in a light jacket with no gloves, no hat, no boots.

In short, Steve in this moment.

He had gone off to work assuming it would be as warm as it was the day before. But no. Mother Nature had decided that summer was officially over, autumn was a fleeting season, and that winter was here.

So yeah, he was fucking miserable. He spotted Robin all nice and cozy and protested.

“How did you know it was going to be so cold?” he whined.

She rolled her eyes at him. “The weather app on my phone?”

Steve cursed under his breath. “It was literally sixty degrees yesterday, how am I freezing my balls off?”

Robin made a face. “Ew.”

A dark grin took over his face.

“What?” she asked as he inched closer. “Whatever you are about to do, don’t.”

He pounced and managed to get his cold hands under her coat close to her skin and she shrieked, trying to get away.

He chased her trying to warm his hands up.

Eddie arrived a few minutes later to find them rosy cheeked and laughing their asses off.

“You didn’t have to wait for me outside, you know?” he said, tugging on Steve’s sleeve to guide him toward the doors that would lead into the restaurant.

Robin peered around him as though she was looking for someone. “Chrissy not coming?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie said, “Her finance professor decided that he was going to have pop quiz tomorrow and only gave them two days to study for it.”

Steve grimaced. “I bet it was Callahan. That guy’s an ass. Especially if there are more than three girls in his class.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “That’s right, I forgot you must have gotten your business degree if you’re running your own business.”

“Worthless as it is to actual fucking business,” he groused.

They walked into the restaurant and Eddie immediately clocked why they had been waiting for him outside. It was hotter than the Devil’s tit in here and it was crammed wall to wall with people.

“Reservations for four under the name Harrington,” Steve said when they reached the hostess.

She scanned her list. “No one under that name for tonight.”

Steve frowned. “Today is the 11th, right? It is six o’clock right? How is my name not on the list?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the hostess said briskly. “There is no one under that name for six o’clock.”

“How about Buckley?” Robin asked, stepping forward.

She scanned her list again. “Nothing for six.”

Eddie frowned. “Okay, then for what time?”

The hostess blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“You clearly have a Buckley on your list,” Eddie explained, “as you didn’t say no to the name, just the time. So what time is the reservation for?”

“Well,” the hostess said with a sneer, “if you can’t remember the time, how do I know you are the Buckley that made the reservation?”

Robin pulled out her ID and handed it to her. “It’s under Robin Buckley for tonight, if not 6pm then 6:30pm.”

The hostess took her ID and looked from it to her and then back again several times. She sighed heavily. “Yes, we have a reservation at 6:30 under that name.”

They were shown to their seats and sat down.

The food was terrible, the service was worse, and the prices for the food were exorbitant for what they got.

Steve left the bare minimum of a tip, roughly eighteen percent and they were chased out of the restaurant by a screaming server demanding more tip.

“Well that was horrific,” Robin said as they all huddled inside Steve’s car, waiting for the cops to arrive so that they could get the screaming lady away from them so Eddie could get to his van and Steve could drive off safely.

“And who’s idea was this anyway?” Eddie hissed. He had never been treated that badly by anyone in his life. And he was a metalhead in high school.

Steve ducked his head down. “It was mine. But I had heard nothing but good things about it from my colleagues for weeks. I just want to do something unique.”

“That was unique all right,” Eddie growled. “Getting yelled and chased for leaving a decent tip. Congrats, zero for ten would never do it again.”

“I’m sorry!” he cried. “It’s never happened to me before either.”

“Whatever.”

Just then the cops arrived and the server went dashing back into restaurant the second she saw them. They talked to Steve and got his information and his version of events. Ten minutes later, Steve and Robin were on their way home in silence and a very pissed off Eddie was on his way back to his place.

*

“Edward Allen Munson!” Chrissy snapped after Eddie told her about his night. “Are you seriously telling me that you think that Steve, your Steve would deliberately take you to a restaurant were they were rude to you, the food was bad, and then proceed to get chased out said restaurant to humiliate you?”

“Not when you say it like that,” he muttered looking down at his hands.

“You think?!” she screeched. “How could you possibly think that of Steve?”

Eddie picked at the thread of the rip of the knee of his jeans. “It was a lapse in judgment, okay! I don’t really think of him like that! I don’t. I–I don’t.”

“So do you want to tell me what was going through your head?” Chrissy asked.

“All the times that I got made fun of for the way I dress,” Eddie muttered, “the music I liked, the games I played, the art I drew. I could see it all happening again like it was in slow motion.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders. “But Steve isn’t like that. He hired you for you. Your art, the way you dress. Then he liked you as a person. A person who made him laugh, who drew him out of his shell, who looked him in the eye and said, ‘I won’t hurt you.’ Only you did, Ed. So much.”

“I’ll make it up to him,” Eddie promised.

“You better.”

*

Only two days later Robin messaged him to say that one the charities he was on the board for just got indicted for fraud and that for the next couple of weeks Steve was going to be living in the office until got it figured out.

But apparently the universe was out to get Eddie because the next thing he knew Steve was on his way to London because one of the companies Steve’s own company had been trying to buy for literal years was finally willing to sell.

So off Steve went. And Robin went with him. Leaving behind two very bereft artists.

It was getting close to Halloween and Eddie was getting worried. So he called Robin.

“You guys will be back in time for Halloween, right?” he asked nervously. “I’m not DMing a one-shot in your house if you guys aren’t in it.”

“We’re working on it,” Robin promised. “It’s just one of the original owners is dragging his feet on one sentence in one paragraph. And it’s stupid and pointless.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. That does sound bad.”

“I’ll keep you guys posted,” she said firmly. “We’ll make it back even if I have to shank the old bastard.”

Eddie laughed feeling easier about the Halloween party.

“I’ll be your alibi,” he said with a grin.

“You’re on!”

*

They barely made it in town by the 29th. Steve was running on two hours of sleep and bleary-eyed when he fell into bed that night. Robin had insisted that they stay up until at least nine to avoid jetlag.

Something that Steve struggled with mightily, but sleep was bliss once he was allowed to crawl into his bed.

He woke up at eleven the next morning, still tired, but finally alive enough to function beyond zombie-like.

Robin and Steve got to work cleaning the house. Technically Claudia and Dustin lived there, too. But she had recently started dating again and spent most of her time at his place. So in the house hadn’t been lived in during the two weeks they were gone.

They got the dining room set up for the game and then went shopping. Steve was going all out.

He bought ingredients for pizza and as many toppings as he could think of. Sausage, ground beef, bacon, peppers, onions, mushrooms, ham, hell he even grabbed pineapple in case someone wanted it. He was also making two different kinds of sauce. A white cheese and a marinara.

He got everything prepared and in the fridge, then tomorrow he was going to make the dough.

“You have really outdone yourself,” Robin said patting him on the shoulder. “Those little shitheads better appreciate your hard work.”

Steve scoffed. “They won’t.”

“True,” Robin said with a laugh.

*

Eddie wasn’t sure what he thought of Steve’s house. At least from the outside. It was very post modern and a little ugly.

But when he was led in, he fell in love with the place. It was warm and welcoming and so soft.

If Eddie had been a writer he would have spoke to the metaphor of the house being like Steve. Looking pretentious and aloof on the outside, but warm and inviting on the inside.

The guilt from the last time he saw Steve burned in his gut. He had railed against judging a book by its cover for so long, that he forgot what that actually meant.

“So are the kids here yet?” Eddie asked as she took his coat.

Robin shook her head. “Not yet. But they should be in about a half hour. Steve wanted to give you time to set up before they got here to ‘deepen the surprise’ as he called it.”

Eddie grinned. “Lead the way!”

She lead him to the dinning room with the long oak wood table. It was gorgeous.

“We don’t usually eat in here,” she said as he set up. “There’s a lovely little breakfast nook in the kitchen that’s better suited for our eating needs, but I figured that you’d want more space for your game.”

“Brilliant as always, Birdie,” Eddie said, kissing her cheek.

“Oi!” Steve said from the other door to the dinning room. “No stealing my lesbian. You have one of your own.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”

Now that the door was open delicious smells came wafting through the air.

“Holy shit, Stevie,” he gasped. “What are you making? I thought it was booze and pizza tonight, nothing fancy.”

Robin laughed as Steve ducked his head.

“This guy do anything simple?” she asked mockingly. “Never!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Homemade just tastes better than fast food.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the kitchen.

“Only because you’re a food snob!” she crowed after him.

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve never gotten why people can be such snobs about food. It all comes out the other end in the end.”

Robin snorted. “That’s be we both grew up poor. Steve didn’t have boxed mac and cheese until he moved in with me.”

“But boxed mac is the best!” Eddie protested.

“Only if you haven’t had his grandmother’s mac and cheese. It’s made in a casserole dish with bread crumb topping and extra cheese sprinkled on top at the end for extra gooeyness.”

Eddie straightened up. “One moment please.”

He walked into the kitchen like a man on a mission. “You sir have been holding out on me. You have a grandma approved mac and cheese recipe and you haven’t shared?”

Steve who had started the rant confused, threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry, Eds. I’ll bring to the next movie night. I promise.”

Eddie nodded and then turned on his heel to go back to setting up the D&D game.

Once everything was set up and they were just waiting for the kids to arrive, Eddie took time to suss out how badly he had fucked up.

“You are going to still join us, right?” Eddie asked chewing on his lower lip nervously.

Steve crumpled. “I want to. I do, but I’m so tired.”

“You would have been so tired if you had ordered pizza like the rest of us heathens, you know that, right?” Eddie said, bumping their shoulders together.

“If I’m being honest,” Steve said, scratching his cheek, “I wasn’t sure if you’d still wanted me to.”

Eddie threw his arms around him and sighed. “I’m sorry, Stevie. Of course I want you here. It’s sometimes I get locked into the us verses them mentality and forgot that you aren’t like that.” He tilted his head to side with big smile. “Plus we get to freak out your goblins not once, but twice if you play.”

Steve blinked for a moment. “Nope, you’re absolutely right, that is a fantastic idea.”

Eddie grinned. “You can play until your first death and then you can go to bed. Robin and I will handle it from there.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan,” he said with a smile.

They were close, so close. All it would have taken was to lean forward just a little and they would have been kissing.

But of course that was when the Party decided to arrive.

Steve got down their pizza orders and popped them into the oven. Then he lead them to dining room.

“Why are we eating out here?” Mike asked. “I hate that long table, it makes me feel like a peasant in a king’s castle or some shit.”

“Robin is making the drinks,” Steve said, “which means she needs the full bar to make them. There’ll be a menu and each of you will be given cups with lines on them. Once you hit the top line, it’s water and soda for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded. Even Mike. They knew that Steve had risked a lot of clout with their parents for this and they did not want to blow that for him.

Suddenly Dustin was tugging on Steve’s sleeve. “Why is Eddie Munson in our house?”

Everyone else turned and looked at the head of the long the table. Sure enough, there was Eddie, waving at them.

“Settle on in, my stalwart adventurers,” Eddie greeted warmly. “Your D&D accouterments are over by the door. You’ll have ten minutes to get ready and then we’ll start the haunted forest one-shot campaign for five.”

Everyone looked around and counted off.

“Are you playing and DMing?” Lucas asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Steve walked over to the door and pulled out a set of brightly yellow dice and sat down next to Eddie. “Nope.”

And suddenly there was pandemonium as they realized that Steve was playing with them.

Steve ended up playing the whole night, having been sucked into the story telling. After it was over and Steve was curled up with Dustin on the floor of the living room where everyone was camped out in sleeping bags including Eddie and Robin, Dustin thanked Steve.

“This was awesome, Steve,” he murmured drowsily. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I knew how upset you were about not being able to meet him,” Steve said, “especially since I work with him all the time for the charity.”

Dustin lifted his head. “So you came up with this as a way to make up for it?”

Steve hummed.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, bud.”

As they drifted off to sleep, Eddie smiled to himself under the comfort of his sleeping bag. Yeah, Steve was a good dude.

****

Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

[pastelpressmachine]

Black Mirror’s Demon 79 and the Justification of Brown Feminine Rage (warning: spoilers)

What if intrusive thoughts can be valid, and it is okay, maybe even necessary to act on them sometimes? If violence isn’t the answer, why must it so often be the question? 

Set in Northern England, 1979,  “Demon 79″ is the final episode of Black Mirror’s sixth season. It follows Nida, a meek sales assistant with a mousy appearance, who is tasked with the most complicated and important mission: to save the world by taking the lives of three human sacrifices in the days leading up to May Day.

Champions of the extended metaphor, Black Mirror employ the talents of Anjana Vasan (an Indian-born, Singaporean-raised, and U.K.-based actress) who plays Nida Huq and Paapa Essiedu (an English actor of Ghanaian descent) who plays Gaap*, the demon Nida accidentally invokes upon finding a talisman that begins this stressful mission of her. Gaap, devilishly handsome and charming, trying to earn his “wings” and be initiated into demonhood reassures the panicking Nida that she is not going mad, she is not a bad person, and the people she is encouraged to kill are vetted through his soul-reading as deserving of death.

*Gaap is considered through stories of demonology and texts related to the Testament of Solomon to be the Prince of Hell, with angels as siblings and a penchant for manipulating women and rendering them infertile. 

Gaap adjusts his form to something more comfortable for Nida by changing into a look-a-like of Bobby Farrell from the famous disco-funk German-Caribbean vocal group known as Boney M. Having the representation of a demonic entity be a Black man while allowing him to manifest into a symbol of appeal for Nida turns the inherent vilification of Black men on its head without contributing to the hypersexualization of Black bodies. Gaap is never presented as a love interest for her, but viewers do get to see them develop a snarky back-and-forth. I almost never see Black and brown leads banter like this. 

Another reason I’m glad Gaap was not portrayed as a sinful symbol of sexual desire is because Indian women already have to navigate a shame-fueled purity culture, and I wouldn’t want to see her grapple with her feelings for someone who is not only outside of her race and religion, but isn’t human. Writers avoided the idea that to love Gaap was to love something forbidden in all possible ways. And we don’t need to see Black folks depicted as not-human. The history of both American cinema and politics has acted on that dangerous perception already. 

When I saw the opening scene of Nida with her wide eyes waking up to get ready for work, I recognized the doe-like innocence in her face as the one I have been raised to emulate. She looks so much like my mother 30 years ago. Minimal makeup, modest clothes, hair neat and tied back.

Moments of Nida’s inner demons being unleashed start off as fantasies she has. She is quietly scurrying through her life as an oppressed minority in 1970′s England, where xenophobia and racism showed up everywhere, from the actions of the British Nationalists to the microaggressions Nida faces at work for simply bringing her potent biryanis to the stock room and “stinking up the place”.

Indian women are some of the least visible in politics historically and presently because we are raised to not make a fuss of things, to be quiet and reserved and let white people act how they want towards us because we are guests in their countries, even when they’ve colonized and pillaged our own. I feel Nida’s pain as she thanks the white people around her for the bare minimum (allowing her an alternative place to eat, such as the basement - where she finds the talisman that changes her life) and avoids the confrontation and rage within her, even sighing in defeat at the NF* tag that has been spray-painted on her front door. 

*NF stands for the National Front, a far-right, fascist political party in the United Kingdom, founded in 1967. 

I crave catharsis for Nida. And for her late mother, whom she has a photo of in her apartment. She explains after the first sacrifice that her mother was perceived as crazy, and now Nida is afraid that people will think the same of her, and this time, because of what she’s done, it will be true. I wondered if Nida’s mom was called crazy because she had stood up for herself, reported abuse or harassment that was occurring within the Indian community itself or in her own home, or tried to leave Nida’s father. None of these scenarios would make the show seem like fiction at all, at least not for many of the South Asian women trapped by the chains of patriarchal ideals. 

There are moments where I am concerned Nida is enamored by Michael Smart, a white politician giving a campaign speech outside the store she works at, as if his mere acknowledgment of her existence without visible disgust is enough to make her heart flutter. Again, I enjoy seeing a Black and brown lead in this episode, and knowing that other viewers are getting to see the many instances of white culture that exposes the racist ignorance and unfair power structures that exist in western society, workplaces, and even the homes of white folks themselves. (I was so happy for little Laura to hear of what was done to her assailant).

When it comes to stopping the world from absolute destruction in a nuclear holocaust, the heroes have never really been people who look like Nida. (It is worth noting that the head writer for this episode was Bisha K. Ali, who also is the executive writer for Disney+’s Ms. Marvel and has tackled many of the same representation issues in her work). People like her don’t have the permission to be loud, angry, or violent without consequences, no matter how justified. Meanwhile, with unchecked authority, bombs go off and innocent people die and children cower in their beds and white men get to act on their worst traits and impulses, however sinful, with little to no accountability.

Even when Nida is being violent, it is for the greater good. Because it has to be. Even female rage has to serve a purpose for others. It cannot just be hers. If she’s going to be angry, she better be trying to solve crime or save the world. 

And through this most guttural and sometimes poisonous part of being a human, Gaap sees her. Maybe it’s because he has transformed in the image of Nida’s celebrity crush or maybe it’s truly the way in which he interacts with her, Gaap sees Nida. He recognizes the type of violence she would and would not indulge in. He tells her she should feel more at ease after killing the first sacrifice, a pedophile she clobbers with a brick before he falls into a river. He continuously recognizes her hesitation, and suggests “Dutch courage”, or booze before following through with the second kill. It is inappropriate in Indian culture for women to drink, which Nida notes when she tells Gaap she doesn’t. Then he asks her if she wants to, something, from the expression on Nida’s face, it doesn’t seem like she has ever been asked. 

Upon entering a pub full of (yes, all white) men, Nida is dismissed by the (also white) female bartender who looks just as irritated by her existence as her coworker Vicky, who had reported how unfair it was that she had to smell Nida’s lunches and endure the lingering scent at work. An older (also white) bartender (who might be the owner) takes her order with the same polite and quiet discomfort of her boss, who had presented her with the basement lunch “solution” to appease Vicky. It’s subtle but the approaches in which different age groups and genders of white English folk take with engaging with Nida demonstrate the variety of ways in which people of colour experience discrimination. At its worst, it is violent hate crimes and unjust legislation that mutates into full blown genocide. At its mildest, it’s passive aggression and strained tolerance. 

It’s more apparent with the second killing (of a man named Keith who killed his wife) that Nida does have the option to be as righteous as she wants to be, which is something I really appreciated about her character. Even if she was killing to prevent the literal apocalypse, and the clock was 6 minutes from midnight -- she must follow the cadence of at least one kill a day -- the moment she has to hear Keith’s justification for what he did and his attempt at absolving himself with the statement “I’m not a bad husband, but --” she swings a hammer at his head to shut him up. She then bashes his head in repeatedly, even to the point where Gaap is wincing at the sight. If this was just about killing people to stop a bigger disaster and loss of life, she wouldn’t be losing herself in the act like she did. 

The third and final kill occurred in the next few minutes, as Keith’s roommate, witnesses her trying to exit, which presents itself as problem in allowing her to continue with the mission if she’s arrested. It’s messy because it was fast, the least premeditated, and she doesn’t know who the man is or if he’d done anything as bad as the previous two skills. Because of this, she’s much more apologetic as the man dies, later finding out from Gaap he was Keith’s brother, Chris, an “ordinary” person who would not have been one of Nida’s choices. 

But as Gaap says, “What’s done is done”. And the three lines on the talisman should have disappeared indicating that Nida has fulfilled her duty. But it still has a line remaining, so a confused Gaap dials 666 (of course) on Nida’s rotary phone to explain the issue to his superiors. He tells Nida that Keith apparently didn’t count because he’s a murderer and anyone who’s been directly responsible for the death of another human being (not counting future deaths they might be responsible for) is off limits. Chris counted because his death still occurred just before midnight. 

Nida doesn’t snap psychologically and decide she enjoys this and is going to become a serial killer, which is a direction I find common in other Black Mirror episodes, where the white and/or male character loses it and/or goes on a killing spree. She grapples once more with her initial unwillingness to participate in this because even when given the go-ahead and to have the most reason to, she enters a mental boxing ring with her instinct v. culture v. morals. From my own experience and what I have seen in my own community, outward expression of rage is never the first emotion a woman reaches for...because she can’t always afford to in the way others can. 

“My whole life, I never wished harm on anyone.” 

Gaap tells her what’s at risk for him, and he describes a fate of punishment that she says sounds like her life now. She stands, empathizing with an actual demon, and deciding to continue with the mission. Gaap also reminds her this isn’t solely for him; she possessed a darkness within her that drew her to the talisman. So, he asks her, who pissed her off?

To Possette’s Shoes they go. 

Vicky, a prime choice for the grand finale, delegates the task of attending to the young girl Laura (from earlier) and her mother to Nida. Because the little girl creeps Vicky out. Gaap informs Nida that because she killed Laura’s dad, Laura doesn’t kill herself at 28 and instead goes to therapy, becomes a mother at 29, and a grandmother at 57. It’s a comforting thought amidst the mayhem of it all. 

Michael Smart makes an appearance once more, as his father and the boss’s father, are old college friends, and Nida’s boss had promised him a suit and shoes on the house. The boss unsurprisingly selects Vicky as the sales attendant, with Gaap grumbling to himself as Nida’s eyes go from ‘excited crush’ to just crushed. Her boss then chooses to notice the boxes on the floor from when Vicky could’ve been cleaning up and hisses at Nida, “Could you pick up the bloody mess?” This prompts Gaap to suggest the boss be the next to go. 

Nida moves on to cleaning up the boxes, eavesdropping on the conversation between Michael and Vicky. When Michael says he hopes he has her vote, she says she is siding with the National Front who she believes will help rid the town of all the pesky foreigners. And then Michael Smart reveals himself to be what a lot of politicians are: covert bigots. He explains to Vicky that an explicitly xenophobic campaign would be too polarizing, so you have to elect a moderate who can win over the masses and put the evil plans in motion. (Sound familiar?) 

There is a subliminal language spoken among white supremacists, even if they smile politely at people who look like me and Nida. And this revelation that she witnesses presents an even more justifiable option for Nida’s third kill. 

She asks Gaap to give her information about Michael’s future, which he hesitantly reveals to her. Michael Smart wins the election, eventually becomes prime minister, and leads a new world order built on white supremacy. Nida decides he is the final target, but Gaap tells her he wouldn’t be the right choice because the Satanic world he comes from is a fan of his work and everyone there would want Michael to be able to facilitate the upcoming deaths that occur as a result of him first winning the election to become a member of Parliament. 

But Nida is set on him, or no one, giving Gaap the ultimatum to get on board or risk his own banishment after failing his initiation. 

Meanwhile, a police investigation occurs which leads to the bar staff identifying Nida as a “muttering Indian woman” who was at the bar the night Keith died. Len Fisher of Tipley Police arrives at Nida’s apartment, as part of routine questioning, and she invites him in, with Gaap’s suggestion to kill him. 

Fisher is the first white person to speak to her as person, too, even though he’s there on the premise of Nida being a potential suspect. Maybe this is more covert trust-building behaviour, maybe as a cop, maybe as someone generally suspicious of people of colour. He is the most mild-mannered, middle-man in the whole story. 

Fisher follows Nida who follows Smart after his speech at town hall. This is where I’m a little surprised but not displeased. The other episodes end with something sad, violent, and/or redemptive. Nida gets a bit of everything, but as with all things Black Mirror, not in the way you’d expect. In society, Nida may be reduced to a mad woman telling an insensible story, enduring the same perception people had of her mother. But society doesn’t last long, and she walks off into a kind of nuclear, fiery sunset with a new friend. 

The deadline for the sacrifices had been May Day, also known as Workers’ Day or International Workers’ Day to commemorate the struggles and gains made by workers and the labour movement. Nida, representing intersectional identities of the working class (immigrants, women, people of colour), was not listened to or believed, and the world ended because of it. Her weapon of choice had been a hammer, a tool meant for building that was used for destructive but necessary purposes. This could be a reference to the Communist party’s symbol of a hammer and sickle, which represents proletarian solidarity. The meaning of the episode, particularly its ending, captures the significance of the working class and how our world relies on them to function and last. When their efforts are stunted, their sacrifices are in vain, or they are not heard, the world ends. 

#black mirror #demon 79 #tv series review #black mirror season 6 #paapa essiedu #digital illustration #fanart #commissions open #anjana vasan

[dunjays]

Ayda Aguefort Timeline/Age Speculation

(warning this is long i have many thoughts)

ok ever since i found out about ayda's reincarnation and her relative age ive been curious about how long she would be alive for (in prep for writing a fic about what notes she'd write to her next self after meeting fig), and so here's my thoughts on that, starting with what we know:

ayda is relatively over 300 years old total

current ayda is 17 years old, and knew herself to be ~175 years old total

ayda knows of 3 previous lifetimes, all of whom lived in leviathan at one point

garthy obrien raised current ayda

a previous ayda raised garthy obrien

in various sources, dnd and general, phoenixes can live to 500-1000 before immolation. by this logic/dnd standards half-phoenixes can at minimum live a little longer than humans, and at maximum probably halfway between the two so 300-600 range.

what we can speculate:

considering past lives timelines, half phoenixes here are probably not living in that higher 300-600 range each incarnation, probably much closer to a typical human lifetime range unless they're dying unexpectedly early (which tbf is possible considering leviathan, but ayda is a badass genius wizard holed up in a library so unlikely that's happening a lot).

speculated in various sources and implied in fantasy high that half phoenixes while born without memories of the past are born with some kind of prior intelligence/maturity (like the intellect of a 6-11 year old). this would make sense for how ayda was able to raise herself in the past despite having no guardian (read notes, get around, survive, etc which wouldn't be possible if she popped out a lone infant).

all 3 previous lifetimes left notes and did work building compass points, meaning likely all at least got into teen years to be leaving in depth notes and historical impact. on average over 150 years this would make each previous ayda be about 50 years old, but this seems unlikely considering some known stuff about 4th most recent version detailed below.

arthur is ~500 years old, and confirmed that ayda told him to not contact her 300 years ago, meaning ayda was likely at least a teenager/young adult by the time of making this decision. it's unclear if this was ayda's first incarnation or not, it was likely one of the earlier ones although possibly not considering this version already had an established note-taking system and plans for informing future versions (but it is implied all the aydas leave notes so again speculation). this ayda promised to leave notes for future versions, therefore it's likely they are not the same version (the 4th most recent ayda) who destroyed the previous ~125 years worth of notes. we have at least 5 confirmed versions of ayda altogether (averaging 60 years each over 300 years), possibly more.

garthy obrien is a half orc aasimar. half orcs live to roughly 75 years, human-based aasimar to no more than 160. this means the celestial blood adds roughly 60 years to a human's lifetime, so if we add that to half orc we can estimate garthy will live to 135. half orcs reach adulthood at 14, aasimar at ~18. garthy was raised when very young through to at least adulthood, and is likely at most presently in their 40s (they describe jack brakkow as distinctly older, who's in his 50s), though more likely closer to 30s considering their more youthful appearance and vibes (but again the angel blood could be a factor). so im saying 35 for splitting of difference purposes. they raised ayda her whole life, so that's at least 17, meaning previous incarnation died when garthy was ~18 (sad).

based on all this it's highly likely the most recent reincarnation prior to current ayda raised garthy obrien, and we can assume was at least an adult when doing so and lived until garthy was an adult so likely died at the earliest at ~36-40.

4th most recent ayda destroyed ~125+ years worth of notes in an effort to start over, likely did this at at least teen age (let's say ~18) and did not start taking notes again until decades later, thus starting the 150 years until current ayda. its assumed that by the time they began note taking in leviathan they were already fairly old/reflecting on past decisions/etc, likely at least 50 (considering 18ish when burning the notes and the following 'decades-later regret'). also this takes off a chunk of that previous mystery 125+ notes, meaning 4th current ayda probably reborn around 75 years after cutting off arthur contact, possibly sooner.

we dont know really anything about the 3rd most recent ayda aside from them liking the library and getting zero bitches

theories/concrete thoughts:

even with 2nd ayda dying at the earliest at 40 and 4th ayda dying at 50 (10 of which factor into the 150 years at leviathan) at the earliest (mind you these numbers are a stretch) the max age you get ayda being is 100, which is a normal human lifespan

casual possibility in all of this is ayda is roughly 300, and with 5 version on average lives to be about 60 years old. this is simple but seems unlikely considering phoenixes live much longer and so her lifetime should be longer than a human's.

it's possible the odd age timeline/low age is in part because when she's reborn she might not be born as an infant. if she comes back as essentially 5-10 already, that is potentially a good chunk of time that is chopped off at the end, making her lifespan average closer to 70 or 80. still lower than anticipated but more reasonable.

it's possible that some versions of ayda have died prematurely or self-immolated for whatever reason. though they've all seemingly lived past childhood, they live on a pirate island with frequent dangers and strife, it's totally possible that anything bad could've happened to them. i think its less likely that they just died really early because 1: ayda seemingly has always come back with access to these notes which implies some level of safety, to have been reborn in the same space as these notes and be able to process them and grow/learn while also being still that young implies some safety/protection. also ayda is a genius and a very good wizard like her father and could likely survive most typical challenges that come her way. also she has very few relationships and very few goals besides collecting knowledge and spells so likely didn't have many enemies either. to me self-immolation feels more likely as ayda clearly struggles with a lot of insecurity and loneliness and likely depression/mental illness and mentioned as much in reference to losing fig, altho i think this prolly only happened with 3rd or 4th most recent ayda. but still, premature death is possible too (something ayda referenced as a possibility as well upon returning to leviathan).

ayda being perhaps way more than 300 is possible and makes some of the timeline make a bit more sense. you could have a much older 4th most recent ayda who dies briefly into her time in leviathan, leaving two aydas in the next 150 years living well into their 70s (or perhaps one dying earlier and one living longer). you could also even speculate that there are 4 rather than 5 aydas, the 4th most current being the same one who left her father and burned the notes (this seems unlikely tho considering the promises, the desire to restart and impulsive note burning decision) but that would make that version at most around 150 before reincarnation.

also possible half-phoenixes just have shorter lifespans. maybe the tradeoff to being immortal means their human bodies aren't strong enough to handle that power/process as easily and weaken sooner/don't last as long. hence average of closer to 60s

in conclusion/TLDR:

fig is most likely outliving ayda or they're around the same age. ayda is at least living to 60, and at the very most 150 (which is a bit stretch). most likely ayda will live to an average human lifespan of around 80, and fig could potentially die at a similar time but tieflings tend to live longer on average, also at most to 150. there's a possibility for a fig-raising-ayda akin to garthy future, but it's unlikely, at least not for long. [and if fig is a full pit fiend/archdevil ofc she could end up immortal but that might be after material plane death]

#i love this autistic bird with my whole heart #ayda aguefort #ayda and fig #fig x ayda #figueroth faeth #figayda #d20 #dimension 20 #brennan lee mulligan #dnd #dungeons and dragons #fantasy high sophomore year #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #d20 fantasy high #fhsy #d20 fhsy #arthur aguefort

[fillinforlater]

i kinda agrer w the anon like ig the older members r fine but if u plan on writing for new jeans rhe maknae is 14/15…

A measured Response

While I think the other anon who send the initially accusation is still the one sending asks to my inbox, I also think that you are another person. I will strengthen and steel-man your concerns/argument, though it will always baffle me that y'all have these ridiculous spelling errors. Seriously, guys, at least try to type coherent messages/a literal paragraph with no mistakes.

(To those of you who do, thank you <3)

For some fucking reason I feel like I have to make this a thing. I should not, really. These accusations are baseless, I'm not the thing he wants to frame me as, so on and so on, but because I think you are genuinely kinda worried what I meant, I'll explain it to you.

(I'm not sorry if I sound condescending or anything, because I am)

It started with this ask, which basically asked me:

"Do you plan on writing NewJeans in the future?"

Now, being human and (probably) understanding English as well as context, this is what I (and probably 99% of other people with the right context) assumed this person meant:

"Do you plan on writing a fic about any of the 18+ NewJeans members in the future?"

bUt tHaT iSnT wHaT tHeY aSkEd!?

You cannot possibly reach that conclusion. Seriously, go look at literally every fic I ever wrote. Age of the idols? Ranging from 30 something down to 18, the absolute hard legal and (I guess) moral minimum, the line I don't cross.

If you go to my page or just open this weird ass tab from Tumblr (fuck Tumblr), you see stuff like "18+ Girl Group fic writer" or "No minors" or (from my Biaslists & Writelist & Requests tab) "Remember that I said most and 18+. This automatically excluded all 18- idols... I won't write those." This is easily understandable, obvious context to the message from above.

Or did you think I would just write about literal new jeans, like an review or something? No, of course not.

Oh, you can also look at my response, like... I specifically mention Hanni and Danielle, two 18+ idols, very popular, probably the two (including I guess Minji) the asker probably meant.

Now the point where I might look like an idiot if I take you seriously:

I responded to the baseless accusation with a GIF of Hanni, the focus on an easily identifiable part (her ass). The response of the accuser (still in my inbox):

"You just admitted you're a pedo"

Wrong and cringe.

Granted, you did not know this message (if you are a different person), yet you still, after seeing the Hanni GIF decided to say this. Either you are fucking stupid or this is maliciously framing me. Pick your poison.

(BTW: You are stupid because Hanni is 18. International age. Whatever the fuck Koreans use/used to use does not count, but she is also "19"/an adult there)

If you now need it black on white (or white on black), here it goes:

I'm not a pedo. I'm even against idols debuting under the age of 18.

(Why did I even bother? I dunno man, now it's out of the system)

With that said, I got some ideas for a Hanni fic (still very basic, but god, she is gorgeous and hot) and for a Danielle fic (funnily, it's not even a smut).

Everyone, have a nice day and some pretty Minji <3

#kpop smut #female idol smut #newjeans smut #newjeans fanfic #why am I responding to idiots