#and how they had 18 labradors...

[bunnihearted]

wish i could be happy but i cant because my brain is wired to constantly think about all of the immense suffering in the world and cruelty of humanity

[mv1simp]

Earned It ♥️

Max Verstappen x Wife! Reader

cause girl you’re perfect, you’re always worth it (I see nobody, nobody but you)

The story of how you met your husband, Max Verstappen, is a fan favourite. A classic rags to riches Cinderella story - well, in this case, a working class med student with an outrageous loan meets F1 multimillionaire. For years, you two dodge the questions of having kids, due to your busy careers. But lately, your husband can’t stop thinking about a 3rd addition to your family…and no, he didn’t mean another cat.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, fluff, humour, pregnancy, angst but happy ending, very brief description of sexual harassment (not from Max obviously), simp!Max, brat! reader, smut, size kink, breeding kink (very versatile from me for once), 5.7k WC

Guys, seriously, we’ve talked about this behaviour, you need to be tidier. You look up from your comfortable position on the couch, where you’re typing away one of your research projects, to see your darling husband gently scolding your three pets. You muffle your laughter with your hand, 20karat diamond ring glinting, admiring his toned build as he stands with his hands on his slim hips, reprimanding the two cats - Sassy and Jimmy - and labrador Arlo about the mess they’d made on the patio. Hearing your giggles as you fail to contain yourself, Max turns around, grinning at the pretty sound. All done, schat? Want to go out for some lunch?

You hmm in agreement, standing up to stretch and walking over to him with a cheeky expression. But first I need you to explain just what you’re doing here. You know they can’t understand you right, babe?

Max immediately tells your three so called “kids” to ignore your blasphemous words, making you giggle again at what a dork your husband was. No one would ever guess how sweet and domestic he was with you, compared to the ferocious lion he was when terrorising his rivals on the track. It is a very serious matter, schat, Max says indignantly. You’d let them get away with murder. I’m the only one who upholds any discipline in this household.

You stand on your tippy toes to kiss him lovingly on the cheek to appease him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you say sorry, baby, shall I make it up to you? and any annoyance Max had slips away as he pulls your petite frame against his much larger one to press a kiss to your lips instead. You two had been married for almost two years now, and dating for six before that, but you simply can’t get enough of each other - even now, as your innocent kiss deepens into a steamy make out session that has you panting and grinding against your husband’s thick thighs as he squeezes your plush ass with his large hands. You’re just about to ask him to carry you to the bedroom when your on-call phone rings, signalling an emergency at the hospital. Sorry, baby you say, apologising genuinely this time with a guilty look. I have to get this, go ahead and eat and I’ll make us some dinner when I’m back, ok?

Max reassures you that you have nothing to worry about, and that he’d make dinner of course, you’re going to be tired after sorting out an emergency. Your heart swells at how thoughtful he is of you and your busy career. You give him one last quick kiss before speeding out the door, scrubs on and barking orders over the phone already.

Admittedly, it hadn’t always been like this. When you had started dating, Max had been the considerably busier one - at the peak of his racing career and collecting multiple world championships as if it were child’s play. And the way you met was a classic dinner party story - F1 driver crashes his Ferrari into studious med student. It was hotly debated as to whether the fault lay with him for illegally going 80 in a 40 zone, or with you for walking with your nose buried in a textbook. Regardless, his insane reflexes had slammed on the brakes just in the nick of time to stop any real damage happening, but your textbook had gone flying in the air and straight on top of a passing truck, disappearing for good. You’d been devastated by the loss of it, more concerned with your upcoming final exam rather than any bodily harm, and as Max sprinted out from his car to worriedly ask if you were okay you’d whirled around angrily.

He was immediately struck with your natural beauty, with your pretty caramel skin and full lips and dark curls. Then he realized you were furiously pointing a finger at him and roasting his driving skills. Watch were you’re going! God, what is it with you boy racers speeding through the tiny side streets?

What?! Boy racer? Oh, Max was not going to let this grave insult slide, yelling back that he was a World-class driver, thank you, and you were the one who needs to watch where you’re going cause who reads and walks, that’s just dumb-

You cut him off, demanding to know who he worked for. Uber? Lyft? Monaco Taxi Incorporated? I’ll be sure to leave a scathing Google review, you said hotly.

Max had now realized you had absolutely no clue who he was, so basically he just looked like a complete dickhead - including to all the passerbys who gawked at the incriminating scene of the 6 foot Dutchman childishly arguing with a 5 foot, pouting girl. Deflating, he offers you his insurance information but you rolled your eyes and walked off, muttering about the goddamn Monaco elite in their Ferrari taxis.

He’d forgotten all about you until 6 months later, when he and Lando end up in the emergency department after a padel game gone wrong, only to find you pulling back the curtain - looking for Max, wait, Uber driver Max?! You’d narrowed your gorgeous doe eyes at him, then demanded to know if he was here cause he’d gotten in another hit and run. It was not a hit and run, that is an incredibly misleading statement, Max hissed, ignoring Lando’s goggle eyed stare, cause why on earth was his mate arguing with the pretty doctor who thought he drove for Uber and not F1 World Cup winning team Redbull-

The third time you had run into each other, at a charity ball where both your employers were sponsors, Max was convinced it was fate. Either that, or you were a crazy stalker. But he was, like, 98% sure it was fate as he felt his heart race at the sight of you in a fitted red silk dress and gold stilettos, your short frame still not even brushing his chin. This time round, you knew who he really was, and had an embarrassed flush on your pretty face as you said you know, you could have corrected me, it was a very awkward lunchbreak that day when the nurses starting asking if I’d gotten your signature.

He laughed, finding you adorable, and held out his hand for you to shake, grinning Let’s start over then, shall we? You’d easily returned the gesture, an undeniable spark running up both your arms as you touched. And a few months later, at the exact street where you first met, he pulled out a copy of your missing textbook that you excitedly took, laughing that he remembered only to gasp as you open it to see his messy scrawl - Thanks for not suing me, want to be my girlfriend instead of my victim? And the rest had been history, with you two now blissfully married years later.

Sure, you had your fair share of ups and downs, just like any couple did. Before your marriage, Max’s busy career meant that he was away more often than not, and although it helped that you had a busy life yourself, he knew you missed having him there at home after a long day or by your side at friends’ weddings where you’d have to attend solo. But you never complained, never asked for more because you understood that at this time of his life, his career would be first priority, and always supported him with diligently made meal preps, looking after his cats when he went away, and late night debriefs after arguments with his demanding father, your soothing voice helping calm down the burning anger in his chest.

And although you couldn’t attend every race like the other WAGs, you’d always do your very best to make it. He still grins when he remembers his last Monaco race, where you’d gotten held up in emergency surgery and had sprinted straight to the track, not having time to change into the Chanel outfit you’d sweetly picked out the night before (from a very large pile Max had generously insisted you fund with his black Amex). You’d made it just in time to see him cross the line in P1, and the pictures of you happily crying for his win as you jumped into his arms, still in your scrubs, long curls flying as he whirled you around went absolutely viral on social media. He was glad for it too, because you received so much online hate for not always being dressed like a model and by his side at every event - and knew that deep down, you felt guilty about it, even though it was such an unfair double standard. So he’d framed that famous shot of you and hung it in the entryway, so it would be the first thing everyone would see when they walk in, and understand why Max’s heart swelled with pure love and adoration whenever he looked at you.

So when he had gotten his fill with his eight - eight! - world championships and wanted to spend his Sunday mornings waking you up with his skilled tongue in between your soft thighs instead of on a racing track halfway across the world, he had promptly quit F1 - to the outrage of his father and thousands of fans - and stepped back to coach his own team instead. It was quite an accomplishment, you had thought amusedly when reading the headlines that year, to be known as the woman who had "seduced Max Verstappen to retire and become her trophy husband". Of course, Max stood for none of the media circus, retaining his infamous status as Mad Max when he openly shut down that storyline in a media statement that had blown up, making it clear that this had always been his plan and he would not be tolerating any slander of his beautiful wife whom he loved very much - who, by the way, was now the associate head of the emergency department, had they heard?

As time passed the fans eventually relaxed and enjoyed the new talent that came on, with your husband still a common figure on the paddock as coach. He'd had more time these past two years to look after you now - cooking your favourite meals and meeting you on the hospital rooftop for lunch and making all the nurses blush at how romantic your husband was, picking you up from a late shift in his Ferrari, taking you jewellery shopping in Paris one weekend then stiletto shopping in Milan the next with all your bags in his hands and his Amex in yours, and listening attentively in the living room as you practised your powerpoints on Intracranial Haemorrhage: Do early CAT scans change mortality rates? Your personal favourite gift, though, had to be when he'd brought home a 2 month old golden labrador as your birthday present. You'd always wanted a dog but had never had time for one on top of his two cats - but now, with Max home more often, he was able to look after all 3 of your kids, as you both affectionately referred to them.

And speaking of kids - the topic was something that had increasingly come up over the family events and meetups with friends you two went to. Of course, when it had first been asked, the two of you had dismissed it given there was simply no time with your careers. You religiously used contraception - with you on the pill and Max using condoms everytime. At one point, though, you both realised you rather enjoyed doing it raw - when the condom had broken after a particular rough session post 6th WDC win. Max still remembered your blushing face as he came down from what had been one of the most intense orgasms of his life, already addicted to the feeling of spilling inside you. You had bit your lip, shyly saying you know Maxie, the pill is 99% effective, I don't think we need to use condoms anymore-

He'd cut you off with a pleased growl, sealing his lips back onto yours for Round 2 as the thought of getting to fill you up every night sent all the blood rushing to his cock. Safe to say, there hadn't been a box of condoms in your home for a very long time. But as time passed after your marriage, Max started to feel an unfamiliar desire simmer in his gut everytime he saw you playing with his nieces and nephews, or when he would be showing Daniel's toddler how to operate a racekart, or when he’d finish inside you, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, and wonder what would happen if you weren’t on the pill. He avoided saying anything as your answer to the kids? question at Family Xmas was still not right now.

But lately he hadn't been able to deny the aching yearn he felt any longer, and especially not when you two had been celebrating Charles' and Alex's pregnancy announcement on their yacht last weekend. You'd looked so happy for the couple, congratulating Alex on her glow and admiring the ultrasound pictures but all Max could think about was how amazing he was sure you'd look carrying his child, how he wanted to have your baby scans on the fridge door and argue over names, how he was sure you would be the most amazing mother to his kids and he couldn’t have picked a better wife. He must have been looking quite jealously at the scene because Charles comes upto him, greeting him with a Hey, mate and a knowing smirk. Max grunts, sipping his G&T, then realises he might be acting in a way you would refer to as "dickhead behaviour", so he also throws in a gruff congratulations.

Charles' is not having it though, having recognised the intensity which Max was staring you down with. You know, he starts, prompting Max out of his one-way thoughts, You could always try bringing it up directly with her instead of expecting her to read your mind, hmm? Max glanced at him side ways. Already practising your fatherly advice? He joked, diffusing the tension, before the conversation moved onto how the new young F1 drivers just didn’t appreciate a good wheel to wheel battle like back in their karting days.

Charles' words stuck with him throughout the week, and one night as you both settled down for bed, he decided it was time to ask. Schatje? he begun, watching you from his position in the bed as you brushed out your damp curls in the mirror, dressed in a cute silk nightie. You hmmed at him, slightly distracted by a tangle in your hair but prompting him to continue. You know, I was, well -whatdoyouthinkaboutgettingpregnant?

You frowned slightly, still distracted by the tangle in your hair. Who, Alex and Charles? I think it's great, they've wanted kids for a while now, right?

Max takes a deep breath, tells himself to stop being a pussy, and walks over to you, taking the comb away as he brushes out the tangle himself. You look at him curiously as he tilts your head up with his large palm, brushing your cheek lovingly as his ice blue eyes meet yours. No, shcat he murmurs gently. I mean us, getting pregnant, having a baby. How do you feel about that?

Your jaw drops open at his words as your brain temporarily stopped working. You feel your face blush from the thought of your husband getting you pregnant. As hot as it sounded, out of all the things, you hadn't expected him to say that. You realise your surprised silence was making Max freak out, the telltale sign of a crinkle between his brows. You scramble to come up with a response, stuttering that Oh, sorry, I hadn't really thought about it, I guess and that we'd both been busy with work for so long it kind of...slipped my mind?

But what do you think, liefje, your husband pressed, hopeful. Do you want to try? You honestly weren't sure, this was all so sudden and you needed a bit more time to process it - but when you told Max this you didn't miss the hurt look that flashes across his face as his insecurities rise up. He asked if the problem was that you didn't want to have kids with him, because how could you possibly not have thought about it, all our friends and family constantly bring it up all the time-

I don't know! you'd responded defensively, arms crossed. We'd been focusing on your racing for so long that I just stopped thinking about stuff like that. The argument had spiralled out of control quickly, Max demanding to know when you were going to stop holding that over him, and when you wanted to think about it then, you two weren't any younger, after all - prompting you to angrily accuse him of always putting his job above yours, because now that he had his fill he was ready to start a family but what about your career?!

You hadn’t been able to stop the tears that dripped down your face as the argument escalated into a full blown fight. Max had sighed seeing that, deflating and saying you should both head to bed for now. You’d lain next to him, feeling so cold without his usual warm bicep pulling you against him, trying to hold back more tears before you drifted into a fitful sleep. Max hadn’t been any better either, only falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and when he woke up, you were already gone. He’d started trying to look for you but then remembered you had a conference in London today you’d had to fly out for - you wouldn’t be back for a week, he reads on the note you’d left on the fridge.

Fuck, it had been a bad night to have such an ugly fight considering you two had left so much unresolved. Later, when he’s visiting his sister’s for dinner and watching her kids with the same burning want in his heart, his mother corners him and demands to know why he had shown up looking like a kicked puppy. Your wife’s been gone one day and you’re already so hopeless? She’d joked, but clearly had a concerned look in her eyes. He couldn’t stop himself then, opening up about the horrible fight. He feels terrible that you had ended up crying, but still can’t help feel that you were being purposely selfish, he explains, after all, we’d be raising the baby together, she can still have her career, no?

His mother had been silent for a while, taking it all in, before she gently reminded Max about how she, too, had been in the peak of her very successful karting career when Jos had gotten her pregnant. Your wife isn’t me, and you certainly are not your father, she said firmly. But she’s scared, Max, it’s not personal. She’s scared she could lose everything she’s spent years building while you get to have it all. It isn’t as easy for a mother to put her career on hold as it is for a father. Even if he’s as loving and caring as you will be, she reassures.

Max looked troubled, then, as your responses last night now started to make sense. God, he was such a terrible husband, how had he not considered that before? Sensing her son’s brain was running at 100 miles a minute, the older woman lays a soothing hand on his shoulder. Just give her some space, Max. Let her come to you. You two will work through this.

So he gives you the space, and 6 days later he’s standing at the arrivals area of the airport, stonily looking out the window at the planes landing but internally fighting a storm of emotions. You two had never had these many days of no contact in your whole marriage, and he’d said some vicious things that night, and what if in the time away you had decided you would be better off without him? His jaw clenched at the idea of losing you. God, maybe he shouldn’t have given you space but spammed your phone, begging for forgiveness. Why was marriage so much more confusing than driving a car at 200kmph?

Suddenly, he hears the click of your familiar YSL heels walking up to him and he turns frantically to see your petite figure come to a stop a few feet away. Your face looks just as troubled as his, but as soon as your eyes meet you can’t control yourself and run forward to jump into his arms. Max welcomes you eagerly, all his tension releasing as he hugs you tightly, broad arms easily lifting you up and pressing his face into your neck to breathe in your perfume. You’re rapidly saying something about how you were so sorry, you had overreacted - You don’t have to apologise for anything, liefje, Max says fiercely, God, I missed you so, so much. I shouldn’t have brought it up so suddenly. Take all the time you need, okay?

You blink back happy tears, heart so full at your understanding husband as you looked up into his blue eyes adoringly before sharing a loving kiss. Passerbys smiled at the sweet scene you two made. Max took you home, one hand carrying your luggage and the other firmly around your waist, as if he was paranoid you were going to disappear. Again, in the car, his hand stayed glued to your thigh, softly stroking it as you told him about your week in London. And then at home, you had to stop him as he got ready to climb into the shower with you, giggling and saying you were starving, baby, did he want to grab some dinner for you two?

He’d pouted, but then perked up excitedly once you promised you two could go for a swim in the pool after dinner instead. Need anything else while I’m out, schat? He asked, grabbing the Ferrari keys. You hesitated, making him turn around, as you blushed a little and said Would you mind grabbing some condoms, Maxie? I forgot to take my pill to London so I haven’t been on anything for a week…

You search his face for any hint that he’s upset you still needed time, but found none, only a gentle expression on his face as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. Of course, schatje, he says lovingly before heading out. You watch him go, a devious smirk now on your face. A part of you felt bad for the game that you were planning on playing with your husband later that evening - but, oh well, you had to have some fun in a marriage, right? And your sweet, darling, perfect husband had passed the test with flying colours tonight, showing his dedication to putting your needs first.

The truth was, you’d also reflected on your marriage and its future in London. You’d thought and thought until you could think no more about whether or not it was time to have kids, if you should even have kids, not because you didn’t want them but because you were so worried about how it would derail the career you’d worked so hard to build. And then you’d remembered how Max would spend hours quizzing you for your residency exams, while you were on the toilet or in the kitchen, making sure you got every answer right and you’d passed with full marks.

Or how you knew you loved Max for the first time, when he had stood by your side and steadied you as you shakily reported to your boss about a supervisor who’d developed a nasty habit of feeling you up at work and barring you from surgeries if you said no. Max had stood by you through it all, his large, gentle hands holding your own, a contrast to the thunderous expression on his face at anyone who tried to give you a hard time when you came forward - and he didn’t ease up until the creep had been permanently stripped of his medical license. Even now, when you’d sometimes shiver at the memory, he’d pull you into his safe arms, murmuring how proud he was of you, schat, you were so brave for speaking up.

You thought about how warm you’d felt seeing Max gently rock his nephew in his strong arms, or how impressed you had been seeing how he taught the kids how to drive a kart, or how devoted he was to your marriage and your three pets, always being there to provide for you and support you however you needed him to be - mentally, physically, emotionally. Max really was the best husband to you, and he’d be the best father to your kids. And you knew you had your answer.

So now, after eating your favourite dinner of Italian pasta, expensive red wine and tiramisu for dessert, you got changed into your bikini, a skimpy pink number Max always enjoyed, and slipped on a gold choker with matching anklets, all adorned with the letter M - a custom made Cartier set he’d brought for you on his birthday, as a gift to himself. The box of condoms he’d picked up lays on the bedside table. You smirk at them as you pass by - they won’t be needed much longer. Not that your husband had any clue of that - yet, and you couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when he figured out just how you were going to reward his devotion tonight. Picking up a second bottle of wine, you take a good swig and make your way out to the dark backyard where Max is shirtless, the pool’s neon lights reflecting the water droplets that slide down his large, muscular back. Shit, you had to stay extra focused if he was going to be looking so delectable tonight!

He turns as he hears your anklets tinkle, smirking as he takes in your dolled up appearance, all for him. Coming in, schat? He calls huskily, feeling his cock hardening at the sight of you after a whole maddening week away. Just admiring the view, you say cheekily, taking another swig from the wine and slowly stepping into the pool. You can feel your husband’s hungry gaze sliding up your curvy body, and you shiver, feeling rather like a deer caught in a lion’s trap even though you were the one playing games tonight. You come to a stop in front of him, your head barely reaching his upper chest, giving him a generous view as your tits spilled around the tiny bikini. You sultrily gaze right into his darkening blue eyes as you take yet another sip of the wine, your pink tongue darting out to circle the tip of the bottle in quite the slutty manoeuvre. Missed you, Maxie you say coyly. Especially missed having you inside me.

He growls lowly at your teasing, easily taking the bottle off you and downing the rest before discarding it to the side. You whine as he puts a stop to your antics, pouty lips and large doe eyes staring up at him invitingly. Chuckling, he places a large palm across your ass and lifts you up against him. Your thighs wrap themselves around his toned waist and your hands tangle in his soft hair, gently tugging on the strands just the way he likes it. Now face to face, you tease him further, whispering in his ear about how lonely you’d been while away, how normally you’d call him and have him talk you through an orgasm, and how your tiny fingers hadn’t been able to make you cum all week because you needed his thick ones to stretch you open.

Fuckkk, schat, Max breathes, feeling his cock grow impossibly hard, his blue eyes completely darkened by lust. I missed that filthy little mouth of yours so much. He glides his thumb along your pink lips and you part them easily, taking him in and swirling your tongue around him. He can’t hold himself back any longer, pulling you in and replacing his thumb with his tongue. You moan into the dirty kiss, running your hands along his muscular shoulders, addicted to the feeling of his strong, thick biceps caging you against him. Your bikini strings are deftly untied as he practically rips it off of you, breaking the kiss to lean you back and suck on your pretty nipples. You squeal as he gently bites down, murmuring maybe you shouldn’t have been such a cocktease, schat.

You’re now grinding your pussy against his abs, begging him for more, please, Maxie and asking him to take you to bed. He smirks at how easily you fall apart under his tongue, squeezing your ass as he carries you inside, always giving you what you wanted like the devoted husband he is. You two have no regard for the sheets as you drip water all over them, foreplay long forgotten as your bikini bottoms are yanked off, followed by his trunks. You’d honestly forgotten about the damn condoms by this point but Max hadn’t, hurriedly ripping open a packet with his teeth as you whine at him to hurry up, Maxie, I can’t take it- Oh!

You moan blissfully as he buries himself inside you. Feels like coming home everytime, schat, he breathes out as he holds his position for a few beats before he starts thrusting into you. Holy shit, that felt sooo good. You didn’t think you were going to last very long at all - putting a time limit on your plan. You let him get a few more thrusts in you before you start begging again, this time asking Maxie, wait, can-can we please take the condom off?

He looks down at you in surprise, saying you hadn’t been on the pill this week schat, it’ll be risky-

Oh, your darling husband still hadn’t caught on to your suprise, and as you whine that it’s okay, you can just pull out, right Maxie? you almost giggle from the strained expression on his face as he considers that feat of self restraint. But he wasn’t going to say no to you, not when you were below him with your lush dark curls spread around you and looking up at him so adoringly, so he reaches down and pulls the condom off and sinks back inside you.

Shit. He swears at the vice grip you have his cock in, one hand automatically going to grasp the headboard to try and maintain some control and ground himself. But you’re begging for more and it feels so good to be back inside you, raw, feeling your slick heat up on his thick cock that his thrusts start getting sloppier. He’s panting above you, both hands now gripping the headboard to hold himself back from the urge to cum inside you.

Your devilish eyes don’t miss this, and you grab his thick wrists to pull them down so his hands rest on your bouncing tits, begging him to play with them, please. Oh, shit, he feels his orgasm quickly approaching from your positively filthy demands tonight. But as he starts to pull back you wrap your legs around him tightly, keeping him in place as you make your final demand - Noo, Maxie, don’t pull out, you can come inside me, it’s ok-

Perplexed, knowing he can break your grip around him in half a second, your husband is now very confused as he points out with gritted teeth that no condom and no pill and no pulling out meant-Yes, yes, I know! You whine impatiently. I want it Maxie, I’m ready now, come inside, I want to get pregnant!

Max pauses above you, this time being the one to have his brain function temporarily suspended as he slowly figures out just what you’re saying. Are you sure, schat-

You roll your eyes, sinking yourself down onto his cock, making him moan, and hoping he gets the message. Oh, I’m definitely sure, dear husband, you say sultrily. Now, are you going to fuck a baby into me or what?

He finally clicks, his confused gaze now morphing into pure joy as he grins down at you, and you can’t help but grin back, the two of you finally ready to progress into the next step of your marriage together. He pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, catching you off guard. You know I love you right, schat? He murmurs, and you nod, confused where he was taking this. Good, cause I’m about to fuck you like I hate you. That was a dirty game you played, yeah? Edging me all night when you were gonna let me fuck you raw all along. Gonna have to punish you real good for that. He growls darkly, his large hand coming to squeeze your throat, making you gasp in delight.

Oh, you loved when Mad Max came out to play. Your legs are tossed over his shoulders and then pressed all the way back against your soft tummy, into a mating press. The unfamiliar position has you screaming in pleasure, your anklets dangling by your face as he thrusts his way back into you. Your husband chuckles wickedly at your reaction, pumping into you deeply and making the headboard bang against the wall each time.

And true to his word, he punishes you thoroughly, not stopping despite your overstimulated pleas as you repeatedly orgasm, instead cumming inside you over and over and over again, leaving you obscenely full with his thick load.

And when you finally pass out into blissful darkness, he meanly fucks you awake again, demanding that you take another round from him like the good little wife you are, aren’t you, so obedient for me, hmm? Gonna fuck you stupid until you’re finally pregnant with my kids, like you always should have been.

Safe to say, you didn’t get much sleep that night, or for many nights after 💖

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A/N: damn this is a whole ass essay. I love simp husband max so much tho I couldn’t help it 🥺might make a part 2 about the pregnancy and protective max hehe if people like this! Lmk what you think 🫶🫶

[itsybitchylittlewitchy]

The blind date

Pairing: Loki x Female reader

Summary: You have been set up on a blind date by your friend Maria, the night ends up not as you would expect!

Word count: just under 2K

Warnings: strong language, sass and smut. What can I say I'm a horny bitch. Under 18's do not interact.

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 🖤

I'm hoping to get back into writing so if you have any writing ideas for me, send me a message!

It was Saturday night and you gazed at yourself in the mirror, as you adjusted the straps of your black and emerald dress.

"hmm, good enough",

you shrugged, popping your lips and clicking the lid back on your lipstick.

You where beginning to regret allowing your friend Maria to set you up on this ridiculous blind date, I mean come on, who even did blind dates anymore? And on your one night off this week! Being a personal assistant was tough, but even more so when your boss is none other than Professor Steven Strange, who ironically seemed to have no concept of time when it came to the never ending set of tasks he had for you.

After grabbing a cab, you found yourself arriving at a nice Italian restaurant. Not too fancy but certainly not cheap either, you braced yourself trying to imagine who Maria's friend from work could possible be before you heard a booming voice yelling,

"Lady Y/L/N?"

You turned around confused as all hell to see a tall golden retriever of a man with long blonde hair and a massive smile.

"Please, call me Y/N, I take it you must be Thor? Maria's friend?" you smiled, looking up at the literal god as he took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

At least he was a gentleman, you could certainly give him that. He was already a cut above the usual fools you dated, who thought the height of manners was to apologise for belching at the dinner table, rather than avoiding it.

The night continued with much laughter and chatting, man, this guy could talk, and eat, did you mention eat? As he scoffed his way through his fourth Pizza and his sixth bottle of wine, You noted he began to resemble a drunken labrador, playful but a fucking mess.

As much as you enjoyed his boundless energy and adorable goofyness, there no spark, (which was ironic considering the man literally shot sparks from his body) and no way in hell that you where babysitting his ass.

"I'll make sure he gets home safe and that's that."

You thought to yourself as you both began leaving the restaurant. Thor grabbed your jacket and slapped it onto your back, causing you to stumble forward. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leaning on you, babbling about how Midgardian wine, had nothing compared to potency of Asgardian mead. Which for all his talk, had managed to render him in this sorry state.

"oh, you must come back to the tower and try some, you'll love it lady Y/N, it is nearly as good as the popping delicacies you Midgardians create" Thor slurred while holding his hand out to hail a taxi for you both.

"Sure" you agreed through gritted teeth, even if only doing so to make sure his drunken ass got home safe, the thought alone making you giggle.

Your heels echoed as you walked off the elevator into a cavernous communal area, Thor still leaning on you for support, he headed straight towards the kitchen area, leaving you to drape your jacket over the sofa in front of you.

"this is some place, Thor. " you smiled walking towards the floor to ceiling glass window wall the looked out over New York, your voice practically bouncing off the walls. Being this high above the city, almost made it look peaceful, the warm glow from the street lights giving you a calming feeling, as you stood there and admired the view.

You where interrupted when a chorus of fallen pots and pans hit the floor surrounding the drunken thor, with his tongue sticking out in concentration as he hunted for his prize.

"Brother, must you make such a racket. Can you and your conquest retire for the evening and leave me in peace?"

The voice echoed loudly, almost causing you to jump. You hadn't noticed the pale stranger, hidden in the shadows in a comfy seat in the corner of the room.

"I do have a name, you know." You hissed, raising your eyebrow at the audacity of whoever the fuck this stranger thought he was.

"and I'm sure he doesn't know it nor will be care after tonight"

The figure retaliated, closing over his book and standing up from his chair. his bright green eyes, glimmering in the darkness, clearly enjoying himself.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking over to Thor for his take on all this, only to see him, mouth full,surrounded by crumbs and hugging several boxes of pop tarts, ignoring both of you.

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you faced back towards the stranger, to find him inches in front of you.

He was tall, gorgeous with a smirk on his alabaster face and eyes glimmering with mischief.

He looked you up and down, keeping a solid poker face, while he gagued your reaction. He then glanced over to his brother looking like a hamster practically storing pop tarts in his cheeks for the long winter, and chuckled, casting his gaze back to you.

"forgive me my dear. I am used to my brothers.... companions.. being as disruptive as he is. "

nodding over to his brother who has since, sunk to the floor, hugging his pop tarts and snoring like a tugboat with sleep apnoea.

"since my brother has once again disappointed both myself and you, allow me to take over as gracious host for the evening."

he smiled, stepping over his snoring brother and directing you into the small bar adjacent to the room you were both in.

With a shimmer of green, two wine glasses appeared in his hands, as he offered you one. It was filled to the brim with an amber coloured liquid that resembled liquid gold and smelled utterly divine, you graciously took the glass and sunk into the cool leather sofa next to the fireplace.

"Asgardian mead is what my brother usually promises his dates, am I correct?"

You blinked, colour flushing to your cheeks, and beginning to wonder just how many people he had had identical nights with. Maria was going to get her arse thoroughly kicked when you next met her.

"You are correct, Mr?"

you enquired, trying to be polite. You knew exactly who he was. You recognised him from all the news articles back in 2012. The god who came to conquer New York, only to get his ass handed to him in spectacular fashion by the newly formed Avengers.

"Now now, come now my dear, don't play coy. Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief at your service"

he smirked, taking your hand to his lips and kissing it, His green eyes never leaving yours for a second.

Whether it was the mead, or this gorgeous man in front of you, every word and every stare seemed to be sending sparks straight to your already thoroughly soaked core.

Panicking, you swallowed more of the mead, hoping the god before you wouldn't notice how flushed you were while adjusting your legs to take some of the pressure off your aching core.

Vivid images flashed through your mind. You and the god of mischief in the throws of passion. His face buried between your legs, devouring your pussy like a starving man, and those emerald eyes, staring at you the entire time, never loosing eye contact.

You closed your eyes and shook your head, looking ahead to find Loki sitting across from you, smirking.

"I.. uh.. think this mead, may be stronger than I'm used to" you said, coughing slightly and continuing to blink rappidly as you sat your glass down on the table between you and Loki.

Looking back up, another image of Loki appeared sitting on the leather sofa. Legs spread and staring at you intently, his black dess trousers around his ankles and his hard, glistening cock in his hand as he pumped it back and forth.

You felt your mouth water as you looked around confused before finally looking down at yourself to find you where on your knees, completely nude, kneeling on the cold hard floor as he beconned you to crawl to him.

Your heart pounded in your ears, as you felt almost entranced, you needed to go to him, practically drooling at the sight of his hard leaking tip, moistening his massive hand.

Just as your hand was about to make contact with his thick thigh, the image disappeared, replaced with an amused looking down at you from the same position on the sofa, but fully clothed.

"As pretty as you look on your hands and knees, im sure the sofa is a much more comfortable place to sit"

He smirked. You squeezed his thigh, gripping it tightly as you slowly stood yourself up, making sure to give him a good show as you stood up.

Unable to take it anymore, you leaned in until you were nose to nose with him and said,

"Mischief indeed."

You said, barely above a whisper as you leant in and bit his lip before pulling back.

You gazed into his eyes, waiting for a response, as he let out a ferral growl before capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, grabbing your head and pulling you to stradle his lap.

"A god has the right to toy with his play things little one" he growled, his forehead still on yours as he gripped your hair, pulling you back to his wanting mouth and tongue, as he ground his hardening cock against your long since soaked panties.

You broke your mouth from his as you unbuttoned his shirt, his mouth moving to your suck your neck moving down to your chest as he slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders, kissing and biting as he went, eliciting a symphony of moans from you. He pulled your dress down to your waist, exposing your chest to his mercy as you made your way to his belt buckle.

"Fuck me, you really are a god" you moaned grinding back against him as you admired his naked chest and throbbing cock.

"As you wish darling"

he whispered into your ear, the vibrations of his low voice causing you to shiver involuntarily.

A green light enveloped you both, as you were both stripped naked.

Loki pinched and sucked at your chest, while his hand travelled down to find your swollen neglected clit. You cried out as his fingers finally made contact, making you buck your hips, taking him deeper as you both groaned in unison.

Loki took hold of your ass, gripping it tightly as he began to thrust upwards, leaving you to the mercy of his glorious purpose as he relentlessly thrust into you. You felt a hot gush dripping down your thighs, as you screamed in delight, his cock hitting just the right spot, as he fucked your orgasm from you relentlessly.

"Fuck Loki I'm gonna..."

"Do it. Cum for me darling, I want to feel you fall appart on your gods cock."

He groaned, his breathing becoming erratic.

You cried out in extacy, arching your back as you felt the thick ropes of cum filling you completely.

As you leant back forwards your forheads clashed, both of you panting, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

"Fuck, Loki, that was incredible"

You finally signed, after a moment of blissful silence between you both.

A green shimmer covered you again, leaving a cosy blanket wrapped around your naked body, Loki's softening cock still buried deep inside you. He wrapped his arms around your back and stood up, making you wrap your legs tight to his waist to hold on.

"I hope your dinner was enough sustenance for you darling. Your going to need your energy for the night I have planned with you"

Loki smirked, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss before teleporting you both to his Chambers for the evening.

Tagging some lovely people who may like this:

@lokisgoodgirl @michelleleewise @geminigirl0298 @lokischambermaid @holymultiplefandomsbatman @sarahscribbles @muddyorbs @wheredafandomat @mochie85 @cake-writes @coldnique @xorpsbane @lokiprompts @mistress-ofmagic @peachyjinx @space-mermaid-writing @word-addict-lisette @with-inked-solace @queen-of-mischief @faraum @xaquarianqueenx

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

Prologue

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen it yet.

Warnings: 18+

Notes: This is really just inspired by Bill Skarsgård's looks as Eric, nothing else.

The black leather in my hand cut into my palm, and as a reflex, I pulled on it to take back control. If I had been able to decide, we would have bought a softer leash for the dog, but Robin had refused. He wanted something more sturdy.

I looked at Odin, our big black Labrador, in front of me. He was just 14 months old and thought I went too slow and that I was a snooze fest, but I tried to teach him to be a good boy, but he wasn't interested.

"Please, can you take him for a while?” I asked Robin, who walked next to me. He made a whiny sound because he used both his hands to fan his warm face. It was a high temperature for being at the end of May, and he didn't handle heat well.

“We should have just let him stay at home," he said with a grunt, taking the leash from my hand. Odin noticed at once that a new, more uncontrolled hand had taken the leash and lurched to gain more freedom, but Robin took control fast and wired Odin into his side instead of letting him walk in front of him like I did.

“I thought your mom had become afraid of dogs?” I asked carefully when Robin and Odin got along. Robin looked at me with his face red from heat but also sunburned. We had been friends for two years, and every summer he got the same shade over his forehead and nose bridge.

“I thought so too, but the nurse said she asked about him. She will probably be terrified when she meets him. He's such an asshole,” he joked, but patted Odin lovingly over the head. I laughed a little and smiled a bit to myself. We had bought Odin together, and he lived with us every other week, like he was a kid traveling between divorced parents, but Odin didn't need to worry about fighting parents because his parents, me and Robin, were the bestest of friends.

"Della?"

“Hm?” I looked up at Robin again. I had disappeared into my world of memories and dreams and hadn't heard him.

“I just want to say again, so you remember, that mom can say some weird things sometimes, and she doesn't mean anything with it and her memory-”

“I know, I know, Robin. I know.” I took his hand in mine and smiled reassuringly. “It's okay. I get it.”

I had never met Robin's mom before. She lived in a home for the elderly even though she was just sixty-five. She had a stroke two years ago, and since then, she has not been herself. It was obvious it pained Robin a lot, but he didn't want to talk about it, so I let it be. He would talk about it the day he felt ready, and this day he was ready for me to meet her. I was a bit nervous because I hadn't met anyone who had been through such a thing and was afraid she would be mean or say something strange that I didn't know how to react to.

The home looked like a smaller institution, but with red brick and apple trees around it. It was obvious it had always been used as an institutional building, but they tried to make it look more welcoming for the elderly with trees and other greenery surrounding the house. Odin started at once playing ball with a small apple and looked at Robin sourly when he kicked away the fruit from him. I thought Robin could be a bit too strict and boring with Odin, but I knew he would just call me too soft if I said something.

Robin held the door for me, and I walked in a bit nervously. I didn't know what to expect, so I looked around.

“Della?”

“Yeah?” I turned around and looked at Robin, who had said my name. He pointed to a sign by the door, with a dog crossed over with a big red cross.

“Do you want to wait out here while I talk to a nurse?”

“Yeah, sure. I walked out again but took a final look at the entrance's cheaply framed posters of colorful birds.

I sat on the ground with Odin while we waited for Robin. Just to look a bit more respectable than I normally used to do, I wore a floral dress that stopped under my knee; otherwise, I mostly dressed in a pair of sweat-shorts and a tank top, but I didn't want to look like that meeting Robin’s mom. Robin was always nicely dressed, and if I understood things right, his mom liked clothes and nice things too.

Both me and Odin looked up at Robin when he came out of the door. He was dressed in beige chino shorts and a white linen shirt. He always looked fresh.

“She's in the backyard, so we can go around the house,” he said, pointing with his thumb to the left. I nodded a little, and together we walked through the apple trees.

It was a nice backyard with several groups of wooden furniture and flowers in terracotta pots. Older men and women were spread out in the yard, together with staff dressed in light blue scrubs.

“There she is,” said Robin, and he nodded towards a woman sitting next to a nurse in her fifties. His mom was short, with chubby cheeks and blue eyeshadow. I had expected she would look a bit more beige, but she was dressed in a bright purple tunic with white culotte pants. She gave us a big smile when we walked toward her. I was dragged by Odin, who tried to run towards her. He barked loudly when we came up to her, and I could feel many worried looks on us.

“Oh wow, that's a big boy,” laughed Robin’s mom, who looked at Odin with big eyes. I couldn't say if she was afraid or not, but I held him by my leg, refusing him to say hello to her.

“Yeah, he's so much work right now…” Robin sighed and then gave his mom a hug, who had stood up with her arms spread out. The nurse gave us a little smile before walking away.

“Mom, this is Delilah, my friend.”

I smiled at her and put my hand out, even if I would have rather have held Odin’s leash with both hands.

“Girlfriend?” She said with a smile.

“No, friend. I told you that,” said Robin, a little irritated. He was probably irritated and sad over the fact that she at once started to mix things up.

She shook my hand and introduced herself as Lotti, and I smiled my sweetest smile.

“Can I say hello to Max?” She said with a smile, and I looked at her, confused. Robin took a deep breath and then took Odin's leash.

“Max was our rottweiler when I was little. This is Odin, mom.”

His mom looked up at him. She looked confused but smiled anyway, then leaned down to say hello to Odin while Robin held the leash short. It was obvious she got a bit scared, but she just laughed at her own fear.

The nurse, who had been sitting with Lotti earlier, fixed us a table to sit by and also served us all three coffees. It was nice, especially when Odin decided to lay down instead of jumping after bumblebees. Robin told his mom about the hair salon both he and I worked at and about weird customers, and he told her I was a little sister to the boss and owner. I didn't say much because I hadn't worked for several months but didn't want to talk about that with his mother; instead, I just let them talk with each other.

“How is Eric?” Asked his mom when they had come to a natural stop. I looked at Robin with a small, curious smile because I didn't know who Eric was at all. Robin gave me a quick glance. His brows had knitted together, and he sucked his lower lip the way he always did when he was upset.

“Mom… You know, I don't want to talk about that,” he said with a low gaze. His mom looked at him. It was hard to read her because she looked both confused and understanding.

“Oh yes…” she said and nodded. Robin looked at her and laid his hand over hers. When she met his eyes, it seemed like she remembered what he meant.

“He's dead…” she whispered, looking at their hands. Robin didn't say anything; he just sat with his head low. I didn't know what to say because in front of me sat two grieving people, and I wasn't prepared for it at all. After they had looked at each other for a few seconds, Robin took a deep breath and instead asked his mom what she was reading right now. Slowly, they started to talk naturally again, and I could be a part of the conversation, but it felt like something was hanging in the air over us. Even if the sun shone brightly on a blue sky, it felt like a pitch-black thunder cloud hung above us.

×××

While Lotti went to the bathroom, Robin and I sat silent by the table, watching Odin bite in the grass hysterically. He was a lot of work, and if I hadn't been on sick leave from work, I would never have had the energy with his wild behavior.

“Eric is my dad. She forgets all the time he's dead,” said Robin suddenly, and I looked up at him. He continued to look at Odin, and it told me he couldn't really look at me while talking about his father. I had understood his father was dead, but he had never mentioned it, and it wasn't my place to make him talk.

“Oh… I understand that it must be hard…” If we had been sitting closer to each other, I would have given his hand a comforting squeeze or something, but now we sat on different ends of the table.

“Yeah… He died of cancer just a year before her stroke, so I guess it's understandable.”

“It must be hard for you…”

Robin shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah… But I have my uncle; he's really close. On my mom's side.”

I gave him a little smile, even if he couldn't see. It was tragic that he didn't have any reliable parents when he was just 35 years old, and on top of that, he was an only child. I would never understand his loneliness. I had three siblings and two healthy, engaged parents.

We sat silent until Lotti came out again, carrying a floral dress on a hanger.

“I think you and I might have had the same dress size, Delilah... Robin said that you like vintage.”

I was surprised she knew that and smiled at her, then at Robin, who smiled timidly too.

“What do you think about this dress? If I had a daughter, I would have given it to her, but the most important thing to me is that it gets a new life.”

She held up the dress for me. It had thin straps and a wide skirt. It was probably from the 80s, but with its silhouette, it could have as easily been from the 50s.

“Wow, it's amazing!” I said standing up. I gave Robin a look to see if it was okay and if I had a real interest in it. Maybe he wanted to keep it for another friend, but Robin just smiled.

“Come in with me so you can try it!” Said his mother, enthusiastically, and I laughed shyly. She laid her hand on my back and gave me the hanger, but Robin stopped us before we could walk into her apartment in the elderly home.

“Maybe you can try it at home? We can't go in with Odin,” he said, nodding his head towards the dog.

I gave Lotti a little sad smile, but she looked at her son with annoyance.

“I want to see it on her! I think you can handle being alone with the dog for a moment!”

I looked between them, and Robin gave me a begging look.

“I will do it fast.” Said I to him after seeing Lotti’s hopeful look at me. I really liked the dress, and I got nervous that she wouldn't give it to me if she couldn't decide.

Robin didn't seem to know what to say, and before he had answered, Lotti had given me a friendly push towards the door to the home, and I let her lead me in.

×××

Lotti's home was a one-room apartment with a view over the same yard we had been in. It was obvious it was an interior from her previous home because it stood tight in the room, in different styles and colors. Everywhere, there were frames with art and posters, especially with Asian themes. Robin had told me he had been in Asia a lot when he was younger because his parents loved it, so it didn't surprise me. I walked around, looking at the decorations and her beauty products and jewelry spread out over a messy vanity table next to the bed. Then I looked at the big photo over her bed. There were two men, around twenty-five years old, standing next to each other in front of a viewpoint. You couldn't see much of the view, because the young men were in focus. One of them was almost a head taller than the other and had a look that made it impossible to stop staring at him. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, and almost all the skin you could see was covered in tattoos. His hair was black and stood messy up in different directions. He even had a tattoo over his eyebrow. “Lullaby.”

If I were to say that it was because of his dark look that he stood out, I would have lied because the thing I looked the most at were his eyes. His big, green eyes. They looked sad and wise, like an old man's, even if he probably wasn't over thirty in the picture. They were framed with smudged black eyeliner that made them stand out even more, especially against his clear, alabaster skin. He was beautiful. Model-handsome and at the same time otherworldly beautiful, with high cheekbones and full lips.

The young man next to him paled in comparison to him. It was Robin, dressed in a white button-down and his strawberry blonde hair styled to a perfect backslick. I gave him a fast look, but my eyes got sucked back to the other man quickly. It felt like he lured me in.

“Who is the tall guy?” I asked Lotti without letting him go with my eyes. Lotti didn't say anything while she walked up to me, and then she stared at him the same way I did.

“That's Eric. My other son.”

I turned to her, shocked, even if I could feel the green eyes on me. Lotti breathed heavily, and with a shaky, tearful voice, she said:

“He’s dead.”

×××

Green eyes.

In the dead of night.

×

[clove-pinks]

Inspired by @radiojamming sharing their photographs of Franklin Expedition signatures from the ships' muster books, I went through the digitised Le Vesconte Family Archives, held in the Provincial Archives of Newfoundland and Labrador, and grabbed screen shots of Henry T.D. Le Vesconte's signatures from assorted letters.

While none of them quite match the amount of swirls and flourishes that Le Vesconte used for his Very Special Muster Book Signature, I think it’s fascinating to see how his signature can vary over the years! It's also an open question of what, exactly, he is signing before his surname. Le Vesconte descendent William Wills partially transcribed a few letters, and he believed that his great-granduncle signed his name "T.D. Le Vesconte."

Personally, I think he's squeezing in an "HTD," which is the monogram on his wax seal that can be seen on quite a few of these scanned letters. (The H is unlike how he would write that letter normally, but I think he's trying to interweave it with the TD.)

From a letter to his father dated February 1, 1843—a typical cross-writing disaster. Did he only wrote "D" before "Le Vesconte"? Dundy truthers rejoice!

Your affectionate Son

[squiggle initials] Le Vesconte

From a letter to his father dated Bombay/HM Brig Clio Tuesday July 18 1843. You can see how much he loves a dramatic flourish with the T in Le Vesconte, and a loop or swirl on the final E.

Letter to his father dated [HMS] Calliope Rio Janeiro [sic] January 20 1839. It's a huge cross-written missive that just goes on and on and on; I think he forgot how to sign his own name at the end of this ordeal.

Letter to his father dated Clio off Nankin Aug. 15 1843. Noteworthy as he appears to sign his name "HTDLeV" at the margin of the page, after an abbreviated "Your affec. Son."

Finally, a letter addressed to his mother in this collection, dated HMS Erebus Woolwich April 16 1845. Very long cross on the T, and a flourish from the terminal E. It's signatures like this one that make me think he's signing all three of his first initials.

From a letter to his father, dated HMS Erebus May 2 1845. There is an HTD in there, right?? Anybody with me on this one??

From a letter to his mother dated May 15 Greenhithe [1845], with a short message for his older sister Rose at the end. A RARE "Henry"!! When he doesn't have a Le Vesconte to embellish, the Y in Henry will suffice.

Baby (23-year-old) Henry Le Vesconte's signature in a letter to father dated HMS Excellent Portsmouth Harbour Dec. 24 1836. I have transcribed this one, it's a great letter all around.

Your affec. Son HTDLeV. [?]

From a letter to his father dated Portsmouth October 17th 1844.

At the post image limit, I will close with "brother Henry" from a late 1844/early 1845 letter to his older sister Rose. He's obviously closer to her than to his other siblings (who may not have had much time to get to know him, since he was only 15 years old when he left home for good as a first class volunteer). Here's a rough transcription of this letter!

[vinnoa-articles]

Embers

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Rating: +18, you have been warned. If you are a minor, leave now.

Word count: 4,385

Type: Smut

Characters: reader (AFAB), Sabo, Portgas D. Ace, Luffy, Garp, Eustass Kid (mentioned), Crocodile (mentioned), Marco (mentioned)

Trigger warnings/content: Sex, first time, some talk of gay sex, swearing, babygirl nickname

Notes: Sabo, Ace and Luffy are not actual related brothers, but they are super close friends. Garp is essentially a guardian of these three. Crocodile is an antagonist in ONE PIECE, and Marco is actually a crewmember of Ace's. Thought it would be interesting to put some familiar names in the anime into here. Eustass Kid is just another pirate in ONE PIECE. Just another detail. Sorry its so long!

The rustling of trees, the cracked open window letting in the night breeze, the young blond man climbed down finally as his toes touched the cracked pavement. His scar over his right eye couldn't cover his twinkling happy eyes. Tight black washed out skinny jeans with a hole over his right knee, with his ankle high combat boots to offset his loose white t-shirt. There was something so tantalizing at the sight of such a rebellious boy, waving outside the window. Small droplets of rain starting to fall and make his labrador hair cling to his cheeks. He was the cute one, of course, though it was a secret from one of his brothers, the other brother knew. Waving at the cute figure in the window, he knew that this worked. His charm is what he read in novels, and this was the only time he put this little show on. She waved back, which made him grin ear-to-ear, as he felt the cold drops fall on his hot cheeks. Keeping eye contact as he started to run in the rain, right where he needed to go. The sight of the female in the window disappeared behind a tree he ran past, as the sky turned a dark ash, rain pouring above from the sky. There was a slight buzz coming from his pocket; a new message most likely. Whisking out his small phone, and letting the blue light hit his eyes, he saw the simple message. 

[5:48PM Come back, I miss you already.]

Zig-zagging through the nearest park to reach a huge tree that had a rope hanging off a branch, and above that, a tree house with a small emanating orange glow. That could only mean one thing, someone was already at the hideout. The blond grasped the rope, trying to get a tight grip, as someone above must have heard his footsteps approach, opening the hatch on the floor of the tree house to pull him in.

“Hey yo Sabo!” The brother with a loose tank chuckled, raising his eyebrow. Sabo crawled up and closed the hatch, placing the small rug on top of it so no one would trip over the hinges. Wrinkling his nose and leaning back against a small box, as Sabo started to peel off his shirt to wring it out the window. “Dude, so did you finally get to fuck her or something? I’ve been waiting here, ya know?” Shaking his head, the scar on his face shined a little bit brighter, as if it was doing all the talking.

“Ace, you can’t just ask something like that,” Sabo shook his head to get as much of the water droplets off his locks. “Besides, we only got to step one,” smirking from ear-to-ear, his ears turning a slight pink as it peeked out from the yellow wet strands. “I’m not like you that goes to phase, what, eight and just goes straight into fucking.” Ace merely put his hands up in the air to shrug, defeated almost by the truth.

“Hey man, sorry that I got game. Besides, I know how she is. A tender soft ember really,” Ace cocking his neck back and forth to stretch out his neck muscles. “I have no idea how to woo a lady, honestly,” reaching behind him to grab the pillow he was leaning on to nearly throw at Sabo. Sabo reached to grab a pillow near him, defending himself, only for Ace to grasp the pillow and hug it into his lithe. “So, what happened? Unless you did fuck after god knows how many months of you dating, then good-”

“We didn’t!” Throwing the pillow straight towards his slightly younger brother’s face. There was only a chuckle muffled by a pillow. Sabo didn’t want to acknowledge Ace’s game, especially with how frequent Ace goes on one-night-stands. College was over for both of them, and it was just summer time as they kind of caused mischief all around the city. “What’s it to you anyway? You aren’t interested in women.”

“You know me too well!” The freckled boy sat up straight smiling. “That’s because I fucked him, and still had enough time to come here and wait for your slow ass.” It was kind of ridiculous how many men Ace roped in though. His smile was charming, and it made anyone swoon for him. The main perk, however, was his body that even he was envious of. Sun-kissed skin from the Gods, abs that pulsed when he breathed, his shoulders and collar decorated in small galaxies of freckles, with his fine raven locks flowing behind him when he rode the waves on his surfboard. “My date went well, of course, he had to beg me to let him enter me. I am just too good bro. Can’t complain about that Crocodile.” Sabo pouted as he took off each boot and placed it beside him. There was no way that such a wild-cannon of a man was capable of getting this many dates. 

“I bet you any money you paid him to have sex with you,” trying to rile up the fire child himself. Ace nearly stood up, cracking his knuckles.

“Oh you wanna bet on that scar face?” Sabo quickly grabbed his metal pipe that was leaned up against the table as he stood ready. 

“Oi! What are you guys talking about?” Both their heads turn to see their youngest brother, his shit-eating grin with his little straw hat staying right near the back of his neck, as the small string kept it anchored around his neck, his red little vest hugging his small frame with his navy blue shorts soaked from the rain. “Fight? Are we fighting now?” Sabo and Ace blinked, looking at each other, then at the young boy in the window.

“Luffy?!” Both of them nearly screamed as the youngest flopped into the tree house. His sandals slipped off his feet as he laughed on the floor. “How did you even get up here?” Ace pointed, as he stood over the rug. The boy in red chuckled his typical joyous laugh and lied on the floor.

“I climbed!”

“With what?”

“My arms!” The older two brothers sigh, but it was nothing too surprising. If Sabo thought Ace was the most loose-cannon, Luffy, the youngest, was definitely the most reckless and unpredictable. Always the one getting them in trouble with their guardian, Garp, was always the way of life with Luffy.

“Of fucking course, you did, buddy,” Ace smiled then plopped right back on the floor. “How did summer school go today?” The smiles disappeared immediately, replaced with an angry frown. Sabo already knew what was coming but wanted to hear the normal lore of summer school anyway.

“Ah! Fuck school! It’s so damn boring!” Kicking his legs around to emphasize his frustration. Ace only could laugh, trying not to laugh at the youngest’s pain but it was the same issue everyday.

“Wow, that’s new. No fight-”

“But, I fought with Eustass again. Freaking picking on me and shit, whooped his damn ass that loser” pouting towards the end. There was a groan from the fireboy, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Again Luffy? You know Garp is going to beat your ass when he finds out,” his hand covering his face in secondhand embarrassment. They all knew what was going to happen if Garp were to find out how rebellious the young teens were being at this point in life. Sabo was always doing fine on his tests, and he studied well. There were just some rules that were just straight up stupid. Such as chewing gum in school, or playing cards, or heck, wearing his hat; that may or may not obscure everyone’s view of the blackboard in the front of the class. So of course he is going to draw some questionable things on each and every blackboard, something funny that the teachers don’t approve of. He was called the “Revolutionary Army” for a reason. Then there was Ace, who nearly got away with everything he did, well, nearly. Never studying, skipping class, putting his boots up on his desk as the teacher scolds him to put his feet down. Of course, he didn’t care, because even after class, he would have some other guy being bent over the same desk, letting him teach the lesson on that table. He relished in that thought, so of course it was his desk. Then there was Luffy, the one that just struggled to understand his lessons, and that school is not where you fight. Even his friends would let him know.

“Gah! Who cares! I am done with summer school. I wanna hang out with you guys before college starts for you all!” Ace smiled in approval, encouraging his little brother’s behavior of ditching. Sabo would be lying if he was going to say he didn’t approve of his sibling’s actions, but then again, he was no better. “So what are you talking about?”

“Men”

“Women”

Luffy stared at the both of them, confused. “Huh? That you wanna fight? Cause these fists are rated E for everyone!”

“No bruv, we mean for fuck-” Ace stopped short as Sabo interupted Ace from potentially furthering the rebelliousness of Luffy. 

“What he means is someone you love,” Sabo glaring at Ace. Luffy was still three years younger than the two of them; Sabo only being 3 months older than Ace and always holding it above him during small banters, he still wanted Ace to at least be a pure boy. Afterall, his so-called “Strawhat Crew” already had a pervert or two…or more so they could tell him when he was ready. “But I just am not getting anywhere with this person,” the blond rolled his eyes. The process was so slow. The perfect gal in his eyes. Of course he only kissed her forehead when he snuck into her apartment and gave her his number on a small post-it note. He thought she was much more wild, as this girl was much more talkative from what it seemed at school; or maybe it's because she was with friends. Regardless, he was infatuated. She always stood up in math class to do math in a different way than what the teachers taught. Always going to the extreme end in class to prove that there are multiple ways of doing things, leaving the teachers flustered and scolding her to “do it our way, because that is what the whole lesson is asking for.”

“Ace, you have a lover?” Luffy scratched his head. “Is that why you always smell so nice every time you leave that hug from those guys you try to bring to the house.”

“You WHAT?!” Grabbing his pipe again, there was no way Ace was trying to bring his little toys here, it was a sacred ground.

“Woah woah woah, easy there. He means our house, not our small getaway up here,” Ace putting his hands up to signal he was unarmed, innocent, and definitely telling the truth. “B-besides Luffy, those are just a one-time friend that I might bring around. Maybe twice, so don’t worry bruv.” The smallest pondered and just smiled, winking at Ace and giving him a thumbs up.

“Oh! I see! So THAT is why in your room you two were hugging against the wall and you were saying his name. Close friends!” There was no freaking way, Ace left his damn door unlocked, again. The first time was when he, himself, walked in on his older tutor, Marco just ramming into Ace on the bed. Feral, moaning and groaning. All Sabo wanted to do was beat both of them up, but Ace pleaded and begged not for his brother to rat him out to Garp. Which is when Sabo confirmed Ace was not straight, despite all the small jokes that Ace would just drop randomly around him. Now, it was poor Luffy seeing god-knows-who screwing around in the forbidden love chamber.

“A.C.E-” Ace was sweating now, shaking a little as his smile trembled as he tried to talk, well, straight.

“Listen! Technically, Luffy has the key to my room so it’s not really my fault, ya know?” He was right though, if he locked his door, then of course if Luffy unlocked it to ask for something, he wouldn’t make a peep if he saw his brother preoccupied. Luffy knows firsthand that any friend that needs a small hug or bonding needs some space. “Anyway,” Ace’s freckles moved as he coughed to clear the air. “I think you should go back there tonight. I saw the look on her face when-”

“You are also stalking me now, you twink?!” There was no way in hell Ace was this insanely good. If only Sabo had the strength to beat his ass for everything that happened. “There is no way in hell, if you think I am just going to dive in and just show her what I want.” The “revolutionist” had his mind clouded like the current weather. This person was tender, soft, and allowed him to even get as close as he did. 

“Why don’t you go slow and see what she does? React when she does something?” All heads turn to the highschool student who is just picking at the small carpet hairs that are loose, seeing how many he could find. “I mean, you are smart Sabo. Smarter than all of us. I think you’ll figure it out.” For once, though Luffy is not dumb by any means, he is just a little sheltered and very pure. “Why are you guys looking at me?” Ace laughed a little then nodded.

“For once I have to agree with our little brother here. You are the most level-headed, but…” his face getting closer to Sabo. His scar twitched as the tan boy got close to his ear and whispered, “I had a little bird tell me she is not as innocent minded as you think. Take it from me.” There it was. He could feel his own face feel hot, his legs still wet from his skinny jeans he refused to pluck off. It was getting dark outside, and if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t have the chance since he has to help out with his little click in about two or three days, going on a small trip to just cause a little chaos with the cops this time. Snatching his things, he pulls the carpet off the hatch, which nearly sends poor Luffy flying as he was still pulling the loose hairs out of the darn thing. The wood scraped against each other, the hole opened right near his toes as he gave a quick thumbs up to his brothers, signaling that he was going to move, along with the unspoken code of;

“Yeah we won’t tell Garp!”

“We will let Garp know you’ll be home late!”

Which was shortly followed by a quick slap behind the youngest’s head. Luffy was a funny one, but he was right. The rain was still coming down, but it didn’t matter, the smell of fresh rain was enticing from what he read in books. Running out of the park and back to the dark backyard. Seeing the missing spots of moss that were on the bricks where he had already climbed before, up the wall and lifting up the window in one swift movement as it closed all the way as it were. The room was lit, but with a single candle. There was but not a single sound, but just a pair of eyes that just greeted him in both awe and horror. Whoops, forgot to let her know he thought. She sat leaning against her bed frame on the floor, book in hand, gawking at the wet footsteps that were leading right up to her, where he previously walked, and now again, ending at the same finish line as he did earlier today. Though Sabo is not as buff as Ace, he was definitely not scrawny neither, better yet, he was taller than him.

“I am back at your calling,” kneeling on his exposed knee, his hand cupping her jaw. His hands were still wet, but his musk, fresh cut grass, and the smell of rain wafted in the air. She closed her eyes, he waited as her lips slightly parted, her head turning as he met his lips with hers. Pulling away to see her reaction. 

“Was not expecting you so late,” her words were soft with nature’s song pitter-patter the foggy glass. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her head leaning up to kiss him again, this time eager for more. This is what she had been waiting for, for months. He didn’t realize how much she waited and waited for a simple kiss, scared that it would go too far. He did, however, know because whenever his face did get close to hers, he would always go past and whisper in her ear, or pluck off a loose strand of hair off her clothes or shoulder. Her response was always hitting him lightly on the shoulder, always playing it off as “a missed opportunity to kiss a fellow rebel of the school.” He was always good at reading body language, especially with how he could feel her heat radiating off of her and onto him. Her breathing, her pulse was rippling through him as their lips locked in place. Soft tender kisses only fueled this little ember her flames, as she started to pull away to place kisses on his jaw, to turn back to pay attention to his lips. Sabo turned his body, glancing a little to make sure he was in the correct position to lift her up bridal style and as softly as possible place her on the bed. Y/N clinging onto Sabo with trust, but not harshly. His body started to lean forward as they still kissed, clearly past the kissing mark that he only intended on doing today to further tease her. Y/N’s need was further shown as she let go, but grabbed onto his collar with one hand, nearly toppling on top of her frame, right knee in between her thighs. His eyes darted around to make sure there were no accidental touches on her body, elbow propping hims up so it was the perfect height to look at her alluring eyes. Her eyes shined his reflection back at him, he could see his own excitement within her pupils. Leaning down, his lips hovered above hers, trying to be tender to ease her excitement just a tad. Sabo knew it was slow, especially when her other hand was running through his hair and grasping it to push him deeper into the kiss. His one arm propping him up on the bed, his left hand snaked up under Y/N’s black shirt and onto her hip, rubbing small circles and giving a gentle squeeze to let his cold wet hands get warmed up by this cute little “ember” of his. Her body tensed, but his hand went up to feel the softness of her waist, gently kneading it between his palm and thumb to get a signal if she was ready. Small mewls trickled out of her lips and onto his tongue. To pull away slightly to give a little distance, but their noses touch, as his right hand crept up to place a finger over her lips, his elbow sliding up near her shoulder to hush her a little.

“This is a girl’s only dorm, right? We can’t get you kicked out of the dorm before college starts, right baby girl?” Her body rippled with a few shakes, he could tell she was excited, but it was well past the time to be loud, to be Ace loud anyway. “Good job,” his mouth went back, but this time, his tongue explored her mouth to get to know her small little world. The hand on the waist crept up onto her peak that was covered by her bra, gently squeezing it to only feel her tongue jolt from the pleasure. Sabo was finally grateful towards highschool for making them read books that are “classics”, but really they were erotica if they really thought long and hard about it. The shifting on the bed made him pause to look down, her fingers had pushed down her pajama pants and underwear past her core, but just below it to test the waters. Gently, the hand on her valley, went to her sea, wet so that his fingers could take a deep plunge. He was ready to play the long game, unlike his brother and he knew it would mean more in the end anyway. Hand cupping her waters, his fingers dipped in, her moan almost fully out but her hand covering her swollen lips. Only one finger, all the way until his knuckle was still poking out. Curling his fingers so softly, to see where that sweet treasure was underneath it all, when her knees bent together to grab at his leg. There it was, as he pulled out his finger, he inserted his middle finger, doing the same, but he could tell Y/N was on the brink of cumming. Her walls were shaking, pulsating, hugging his fingers as if calling them to go deeper and to stay. 

“S…Sabo,” her voice trembled. Dragging out his fingers, she could feel the fingers leave, almost whining at the lack of presence within her. Those skilled fingers, digging into his wallet to grab a condom that Ace had always preached would be of good use, which was a blessing and a curse. Tearing the condom and letting Y/N catch a breath, standing up just to pry off his pants to his ankles, kicking his combat boots that he never even bothered tying up again when he left the treehouse to the side with his pants off, but his boxers still on. Sabo adjusted himself, leaning again, close to Y/N’s face, whispering in her ear so quietly, that the rain almost was interrupting their lesson.

“Oh baby, just don’t be too tense for me, I don’t want it to hurt for you love,” his voice cooing in her ear made her dripping pussy shake as if it heard it all. Gently pushing his boxers down, and rolling on the condom on his throbbing cock, he rubbed it against her lower lips. His body eclipsing hers, as he slowly welcomed the warmth around him. 

“Ah!” Her mouth parted, but he was too slow groaning himself. This is what Ace was all crazy about, and he understood. Back in the original position he was in, he started to kiss her lips to quiet her down, pushing his length as deep as it would go, her throat swallowing to try and stop her sinful moans.

“I’m going to move now, does it hurt?” Words like feathers tickled her ears as she shook her head, tears slowly creeping up in her eyes. Ah, so it is her first time too. “It’s okay baby girl, I’ll go slow”. His hips went slow, making sure she could adjust to a little movement, her small voice nearly being swallowed by his long kisses. Until after a few moments, they stopped making out entirely. Sabo’s hair touched the bed as his pants were breathed onto her ear, her teeth biting on his shoulder to try to muffle the pleasure, but it was too late. The sound of skin slapping each other, his balls hitting her thighs, his hands gripping the sheets around their bodies as her hands scratched little trails on his back. “Fuck, I am cumming baby,” his hips snapping in precision to hit that one sweet spot of hers. Her teeth sunk in as her legs wrapped around his body, a wave going through her body, as it calmed as he rode out her wave. Groaning deep as he released his seed in the wrapper. Both huffing and puffing as his body collapsed beside her, looking at the sheets with droplets of red beneath her body. Lifting her body up and onto her study chair, he switched out the bed sheets with new light blue sheets, lying her down on top without even trying to put the top sheet properly on the bed. Climbing bed to wrap his lean arms around her, planting a kiss on her forehead, smiling. 

“Love you Sabo,” her soft voice returned to normal as she pecked Sabo’s neck. Stroking her dry locks, he pulled her close into his chest, as his eyes drifted off into sleep.

He woke up a lot earlier, because he didn’t want to get chewed out, as he saw Y/N sleeping quietly as the sheets moved up and down to her breathing patterns. Tossing the old sheets in the hamper, he put on his still damp clothes, tying his boots finally and opened the window. “Hm? Sabo?” Sabo turned his head only to see Y/N sleeping, her body curled up hugging the pillow replacing his body. A smile creeping onto his lips as if he saw something he could tease her about later, his feet dangling as he hopped out the building. The window shutting as he landed. There was no silhouette this time, but he knew he would see that figure again one day. Whipping out his phone he saw he missed seven calls and had a bunch of text messages.

[10:12PM Gah! Sorry! - Little Luffy]

[10:09PM Get your ass back here! Blame Luffy for this shit. Now I am in trouble - Hothead Ace]

Only to see one message at the very bottom saying words that prompted Sabo to maybe sleep in the treehouse that night.

[9:58PM You better get your ass back here brat!! Breaking curfew and chasing girls is NOT what you should be doing. Be back here by 10:15PM or else I’m beating your ass - Angry Carpy Garp]

Well, it was already 11:24PM, but it didn’t matter if he got caught in the tree house anyway, because he ignited a fire with himself. It was worth every beating he would get when he came back with a smile on his face.

[peyton-warren]

Threat of Exile

Characters: Gender Neutral Reader, Captain Syverson

Pairings: None, I dont even think Reader likes Sy let alone "likes" him.

Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters

Word count: 1234

Type: dystopian, survival, post apocalyptic.

Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. End of the world as we know it. Some use of guns, lock picks and horribly disrespectful hand gestures.

Summary: Reader is out on a supply run with Syverson.

Author's Note: not betaed. I admit I channeled my writing for The Walking Dead while working on this. But what else was I supposed to with the challenge of writing this for @the-slumberparty's Week One Game I Spy where i ended up with the Theme: Survival and the Setting: post apocalyptic? Bolded words are the ones supplied in the rules to the game. I managed to get all 3 in here.

Ask Box: Open

Masterlist

You were glad to be out doing something, happy that Spring had finally arrived and Winter had pissed off, at least for now. What you weren’t so pleased about was your partner on this trip.   You got why Syverson was who in your rag-tag bunch of survivors was in charge of supply runs.   But his on-point, nonsense, all the fucking time was wearing on you. You haven't seen any threats in months!   No strangers, no wandering groups of other survivors moving in to take potential supplies. You weren’t sure you were gonna be able to take another couple days of recon with him.  

You found yourself behind him, making faces at one of the other 2 person teams you were out with.  Janet and Tim tried to keep straight faces as Sy gave them nonverbal instructions with you mocking each of his movements in earnest.  With a growl and a pop of his neck, he turned back to you as the others headed towards the house next door to the one you were walking up to.  “Can you not do that shit while we are out in the world?  It’s barely tolerable when we are home-“ as if a recreated 18th century fort in the middle of a state park was any sort of home - “but out here, you need to cut the grab ass.”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll even if you wanted to, but you should have stopped the mocking salute.  “ Sir. Yes, Sir.”   

In a millisecond, you found yourself smashed against the wall beside the front door with a rather pissed off military officer in your face.  “I will leave your ass out here without a second thought if I think you are going to endanger us.” His arm was bent across your collarbone, painfully digging into you, a breath’s distance from your windpipe.   His steely blue eyes were frosty and unwavering as you tried to remember you needed to draw in air.  

“Got it,” you eek out in a soft voice.  

With a small emphatic amount of added pressure to your chest, Syverson dropped his arm and waved his hand at the front door.  “You’re up,” he muttered to you, stepping to the side and turning his attention to your surroundings.  

You had no idea that learning how to pick locks in college was going to come in handy in such a fashion, but you pulled your pick kit out of your cargo pants and selected the proper tools for the deadbolt on this door.  After a few fiddly moments, the lock gave way under your ministrations which you announced with a small exclamation of glee.  

You stepped away as Sy reached for the handle, turning it slowly as you swapped your tool kit for your side arm and flashlight.  This part you took as seriously as he did.  You never knew who or what was beyond lock doors, especially when you were scavaging for supplies.  When the world ended 14 months ago, people slipped back into their baser instincts, kill or be killed ruled the world more now than it ever did before.   

The two of you cleared the first floor with practiced ease.  The home appeared to be a basic suburban middle class home.  The family who lived here- mom, dad and 2 perfect children plus an adorable Labrador retriever if the photos on the walls were to be believed - seemed to have locked the door that last fateful day, going off to work and school, never to return again.  

Heading to the stairs to the next floor, rounding an end table holding a long dead bouquet of flowers, you found yourself praying for the family as you often did while clearing homes on supply runs.  You prayed they were ok, that they survived and if they did they were all as ok as they could be in this world.  

Following the broad back wrapped in sweaty, dirty cotton, you were able to clear the rooms on the second floor quickly.   Dropping his long arm to his side, Sy nodded to you, even though you already knew the drill.  “See what’s of use up here, I’m gonna have a look downstairs.”  

Sliding the hand gun into the holster on your hip, you pulled a zippered tote bag from your backpack as he headed to his own assignment.  You made quick work of the kids' bedrooms. Not much of value there.  You had so few kids in your group any more anyway, the illnesses taking most of them early on.   You swiped a pink bunny holding a red heart for Abby, the 16 year old that had basically become your little sister since the world ended.  

Heading to the master bedroom, you began rifling through dressers and closets, stuffing useful clothes into the bag in your hand, leaving the frills, lace and heels alone.  Pulling open a final drawer, you whistled low at the treasure trove of personal delights you had stumbled upon. None of the toys were probably of any use to you or the group back home, but you did stuff the arm and ankle leather cuffs into the bag along with their restraints and a couple pairs of well made handcuffs .  You were not thinking you needed them for anything more than keeping someone from hurting themselves or others, not for the original  intent of them. Though somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered what Syverson would think of them. You guessed he was likely just as uptight about that as he was about recon.  

Sweeping through the closet for needed clothes and other bits, you wandered back out into the bedroom.  Something shiny on top of the dresser next to the closet caught your eye. Money had long since been deemed useless by everyone you had come across, frivolous as anything else useless including jewelry.  Didn’t stop you from running your fingers over the delicate gold chain laid on the lace covered wooden top.  They paused over the tiny diamond pendant, barely a breath of a stone, but stunning nonetheless.  With only a hint of guilt the old you would have felt you swept it up and clasped it around your neck, tucking it under your shirt collars.  Patting it once, you reached for your backpack and the tote bag now filled past the zipper’s capacity.  

Quietly, you made your way downstairs to find Syverson carefully repacking the bag at his feet, tugging it closed.  “We good?” you asked before he could.  

With a nod and grunt, he stood to his full height, pulling the bag up to his bulky shoulder. With a jerk of his chin, he asks if you want him to take yours from you.  Your response is just a shake of yours, stubborn to let him help you.  God forbid he thought for two seconds you were not actually pulling your weight.  You’d be regulated to kitchen duties or some other monotonous task instead of never being allowed out of the palisades of your home. You’d rather choke on a rattlesnake than face that as your lot in life.  

Sy paused on the front porch, waiting for you to relock the deadbolt, re-securing the house on the off chance someone wouldn’t come along and bust down the door to get at the contents.  Syverson was an odd duck.  But you had to admit you were glad he was on your side.  

General Tag List: @littleone65; @mysweetlittledesire

[byunbhyunz]

Being Fond of You Comes Naturally

Pairing: Chanyeol/Reader (but not really)

Genre: fluff, angst, hybrid!au

Rating: +18

Warnings: mentions and hints of abuse, sexual abuse, so please don’t read if you’re triggered by it.

Word count: 18,908

Five years went by since hybrids were introduced to the world. Half-human, half-animal beings, who needed to be taken care of. Most people treated them as pets, just as lovingly, but sometimes also just as bad. Yet, you never sparred them a thought until your roommate decided to bring home a tall Labrador Retriever hybrid.

You were stunned. Standing in the living room speechless, bare feet rooted to the fluffy carpet, you stared at your roommate and what she has brought home. Or more like who she brought home. You weren’t sure how you should refer to hybrids. The whole thing was still new to you, even though more than five years passed since they were officially introduced to the society.

Cocking an eyebrow, you glanced questioningly at Seoyun, who fiercely refused to look away. The hybrid next to her seemed to be nervous. He was tall with big doe eyes, and despite his dark hair, his perked ears were covered with golden fur. Strange combination, you thought. He slightly trembled under your inspecting eyes, and grabbed Seoyun’s hand.

“What is this?” you asked slowly.

“He’s a hybrid, not a thing.” She pouted at you, voice lazy and not really caring.

“I can see that. I mean, what is he doing here? What is this situation?”

“I bought him. I was lonely, and he looked so sad at the shelter.”

You hummed. Clicking your tongue loudly, you plopped back down on the couch. You wanted to get back to your work, but your mind wasn’t in the right state at the moment, and you didn’t even know what was the reason for it. Maybe because she forgot to discuss it with you beforehand? Or you were just simply against taking hybrids home as pets? Maybe both. However, you didn’t like this whole idea overall.

Staring at the screen of your laptop with empty eyes, you heard your roommate murmuring softly to the hybrid as she led him to her room. It was right next to yours, and you wondered how can or will the two of them be comfortable in there. Neither room was too big. Well, comfortable for one, but not for two.

From the corner of your eyes, you glanced at the hybrid. He was tall, but at that moment his shoulders slumped forward, as he was trying to shrink to the same size as Seoyun was; and he failed miserably. He must have felt your eyes on him, because the next moment he whipped his head in your direction. His eyes widened, and you didn’t like the scared shine in them. Were you that intimidating? So much for a first impression!

Sighing, you turned back to your laptop, the design for the next spread of the magazine not really registering in your brain.

You were a free-lancer graphic designer. Well, free-lancer on paper, but you were hired for a monthly magazine to design and edit for them. It wasn’t a big job, twenty pages on top, which you usually finished in a week. The only problem was that they didn’t pay you too well, so you also had to take side jobs and even ran a little site where you took commissions for portraits. From the both of them combined you made enough to live well.

It wasn’t like that in the beginning. You barely made any money from your commissions. You had to slowly build up your reputation, so word about your work would spread in the required circles. During the harder days, you worked in a café. You liked in there, but felt relieved when you finally could quit to concentrate on your the work you did with passion.

After maybe an hour, Seoyun came out, the hybrid lingering closely behind her, holding onto her hand.

“What’s your name?” you asked, not looking at them. You didn’t want to scare him off more than you already did. The way he pulled his shoulder up, hunched forward as if he was trying to disappear from your eyes, told you how he didn’t like you just yet.

“Chanyeol,” Seoyun answered for him, her tone slightly colder than before.

You hummed, not wanting to piss her off. You had a nice relationship with each other. She was you roommate in college too, and since you lived together well enough, you decided to find an apartment and move in together after graduating. Your lifestyles were the exact opposite, but maybe that was the reason why it worked so well. You usually stayed at home working, doing the house work, while she was away a lot (not just for work), and did grocery shopping or went to the post office to pay the bills.

Your dynamic worked out, but you wouldn’t call her your friend. Maybe companion would be a better word for what you were to the other. You despised the way she had turned in too many men’s bed, but you even hated more when she told you about it. In great details. She lived her life in a reckless way in you opinion, but as long as she was okay with it, you were too.

And that was exactly your problem with her taking a hybrid home. With her sleeping at other places for more nights than she slept at home, how could she take care of a hybrid? You wanted to tell all of that to her, but decided against it. It would only make bad blood between you two, and you didn’t want to look for a new apartment just because Seoyun grew to hate you for your big mouth.

Still, you couldn’t stand to not make a comment.

“Okay, but I won’t take care of him, if you forget to come home for days.”

Seoyun snorted and laughed sarcastically. You looked at her with a blank expression on your face to make her stop. Then she finally smiled, and said:

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll be the perfect owner of Chanyeol.”

It was your turn to snort. You hoped so for your own good!

Sighing out loud, you stared at the empty counter top. Originally, you planned to make yourself something for dinner, but then you noticed the silence in the apartment. It shouldn’t have been like that. Frowning, you wondered where Seoyun disappeared. She didn’t came home on time, and it wasn’t the first time since Chanyeol lived with you two.

Your roommate went to work in the morning, and haven’t came home since then. Usually she got off from work around three or four in the afternoon, depending on how much work she had to do, but it was already eight and there was no sight of her. You were working in the living room all day, so you were pretty sure that Chanyeol haven’t left Seoyun’s room all day.

You decided to make some pasta and souse, and prepared some for the hybrid too. He wasn’t your responsibility, but you couldn’t let him starve himself to death because of your roommate’s ignorance.

You really wished that she was being honest when she said she won’t be out late and will take care of Chanyeol. That you wouldn’t have to look after him, because she would be responsible from that point on. But that crumbled down only in a week.

Well, it didn’t happen in one day. Not like she went to sleep as a prefect owner of her hybrid, then woke up as a careless person the next morning.

It started with staying out for one or two hours after work, which wasn’t that big of a deal for you. She told you beforehand, so you were aware of it. And she left food for Chanyeol in the fridge too. On the other hand he barely ate when she wasn’t home. You even talked about it with Seoyun, but she shrugged it off, saying that he doesn’t like to eat alone. You didn’t offer to eat with him, when she wasn’t home, and she didn’t ask you to do it.

But after some point, Seoyun stayed out for more and more hours, leaving you and the hiding hybrid alone in the apartment. Last weekend, she didn’t even sleep at home.

The souse sizzled in the pan as you stirred it up, and eventually mixed it with some chicken breast. Then you let it cook while covering it with a lid. Leaving it, you readied the pasta and portioned it out on two plates. When the chicken was ready, you did the same with it too.

Leaving one of the plates on the counter, you put the other one on a tray, accompanied with a pair of chopsticks and a glass of water, then brought it to Seoyun’s room. You knocked softly on the closed door, and when no answer came, you said:

“I made some dinner. I leave it next to the door for you, and will come back and take the plate later when you are finished with it.” You hesitated slightly before adding: “Enjoy your meal!”

You went back to the kitchen, and washed the remaining dishes before sitting down to eat. The whole time you listened to the noises in the apartment, checking if he came out for the food. A few minutes later a soft click of the door could be heard, then some shuffling, and the door closed back.

You caught yourself smiling as you went back to the living room and ate your pasta while checking your e-mails. There were more than enough of them, part of them from previous clients and some new asks for portraits with reference photos and details, even some checking ins with the magazine you worked for. You already finished three pages from next month’s issue, since the journalists and photographers were fast with their job. Only seventeen more to go and you still had the next three weeks to work on it. Most journalists liked to do their parts in the very last minute, meaning that you had to work hard and fast in the last moments too before it had to be sent out for printing.

The pasta went cold long before you finished it, the better half of it wasn’t even warm while you ate it. Your attention was set on your laptop, mind on work, not on basic human needs.

Humming to a forgotten song, you took a break after a few hours, letting the left over souse go hard on the plate, making it more difficult to wash later. You checked on Seoyun’s room – or more like the door of her room –, finding the tray with an empty plate on the floor. You hummed some more; feeling somewhat happy that Chanyeol ate what you cooked, and didn’t just continued with his fasting. Next time, maybe he will even leave the room for a couple of minutes.

You pitied him. You really did. Being locked up in a small room all day long, because the person responsible of you decided to ignore your needs.

Absentmindedly, you typed in the word ‘hybrid’ in the search bar. A lot of links appeared on different topics, and most of them didn’t help you at all. You didn’t even know what you were looking for, just read some articles on the current state of the hybrids in society, but you couldn’t grasp the meaning of them. They were always referring back to previous articles and news, that you didn’t know about. It was a mess, and your head started to hurt soon, so you closed those tabs and went back to work.

It wasn’t your job to do anyway. He was Seoyun’s hybrid to take care of, not yours, and you didn’t have a say in what way she was treating Chanyeol.

Softly approaching Seoyun about your concerns wasn’t a successful way of making her realize your issues. Well, they weren’t your issues really, since you had no relation to Chanyeol, but you were living in the same apartment, and you hated to see him being so lonely and sad whenever your roommate decided that it was a good idea to stay out for the night. And it happened more often than not.

You tried to casually bring up the topic of staying in more, you even stooped so low to ask her to watch a movie with you at home, which she never did. Her answer was a simple no and a weird look you could understand. You never really spent ‘bonding’ time with her, since your relationship was purely transactional, not friendly.

On the other hand, in the past weeks Chanyeol got used to you little by little. He started to come out of Seoyun’s room when she was away. He ate with you when you cooked for him too instead of locking himself away, and lately he even joined you in the living room. He usually watched dramas while you worked on your laptop.

The first time he did that, you were very cautious of your actions and his presence. You refused to move around too much, even when your legs got cramps, you barely flinched because you were scared that he would run back to the bedroom. But to your surprise, he huddled up on the armchair furthest from you, and started to watch the TV. You couldn’t help, but stare at him, and when he noticed, his whole face turned into a burning shade of red and locked his eyes on the screen until Seoyun came back home late night.

This went on for a while: him coming out to watch the news or dramas, and after a while he scooted closer to you.

You usually worked while sitting on the floor, back pressed to the couch, laptop either on your lap or on the table. At first, he sat on the edge of the couch, then the next time he was a little closer, and closer, and the last time he was sitting next to you on the carpet, openly watching what you were doing, but never spoke.

Lunch and dinner was different, but not really. He did the same method; approaching you from afar, until he was sitting next to you at the dining table. And eventually, he even started to speak; thanking for the food, asking for more or if you wanted some water to drink, and he would bring a glass of it for the both of you. Sometimes he even helped you with washing the dishes or cleaning the table after you finished.

You often wondered if this calm, quiet side was truly his personality, or he was still holding himself back from you for whatever reason. Seoyun slipped you that Chanyeol was a Labrador Retriever hybrid, and from what information you could gather, he should be much more energetic and needed to let off a lot of steam.

That’s why you decided to ask him to come with you when the time for grocery shopping came around.

Seoyun asked you to do it this week, since she had a lot of work, and she probably has to stay late at the office. You were okay with it, most people can’t control their work amount if they work for someone else. It also happened from time to time, so it’s not like it was surprising. It was the dynamic of the two of you: you had your assigned housework, but you would switch it up sometimes if it was more convenient for one of you. Being flexible was necessary in any kind of relationship.

You felt strange as you knocked on Seoyun’s door. You rarely did it, since usually she was the one coming for you, so knocking on her door was new to you. As if it wasn’t even your home, but someone else’s.

Chanyeol opened the door slightly, looking at you wide-eyed through the narrow gap. You tried your best not to look intimidating, as you said:

“I’m going to grocery shopping. Do you want to come with me?”

You noticed how his ears perked up at your words – golden fur peaking out from his dark locks of hair. He even tilted his head, as a confused puppy would. A knot formed in your throat, and you felt a sudden urge to pat his head and tell him how cute he was.

“Can we walk?” he asked finally.

“We’ll go by car. I have to buy a lot of stuff and I don’t think we could bring them all home in hand.”

A pout naturally came to his lips, and you really wanted to make it disappear, so your next words slipped out your mouth before you could realize what you were saying:

“But we can go for a walk tomorrow, if you want to.”

That worked like magic. A smile, bright as the sun appeared, and lit up his features. It made you smile too.

“Really? Can we go to the park?”

“Of course. Wherever you want.”

“Thank you, Y/N Noona.”

You hummed in response, and went to your room to change into something that didn’t scream ‘I was working from home’.

“We’ll go in ten minutes!”

Chanyeol was truly amusing, you found that out during shopping. And pretty much like a child. He wanted to see and touch everything that was colorful or interesting even a little bit. Your previously one hour long shopping became a three hour trip around the supermarket, with you pushing the shopping cart and him checking out every single item on the shelves. When he wanted something badly he would stare at you with the softest, shiniest eyes you ever saw on anyone; there was no way you could say no to him.

“Are you planning making me buy the entire store?” You laughed when he dropped the third kind of cereal in the cart.

He suddenly turned to you, a little startled, like a deer caught in headlights. You just smiled, and pushed the cart forward.

You noticed how he often still looked scared of you, so you tried your best to make him comfortable. You were aware to always talk in a soft and slow tone to him, carefully picking each word before letting them fall from your lips. No fast actions or anything that could surprise him in the wrong way. Not really sure if all the hybrids were like this with new people around them (except for their owners), but you wanted to clear your first impression on him. It must have been bad, but you were thankful that he slowly eased up around you, letting his guards down.

“Okay. Most important decision today.” You looked at him seriously as you arrived to the meat section. “Beef or chicken?”

His eyebrows furrowed at the question, eyes roaming between the different kinds of meat. You could almost see his mind running in an incredible pace. After a few minutes passed, Chanyeol looked at you shyly, ears flushing a deep red.

“Can it be both? I want to eat both.” You nodded at him, motioning for him to give you a few of said meats, and he complied happily.

“But which one do you want today?”

“Chicken? Maybe. I’m good with beef too.” You just hummed, getting lost in your thoughts as you strolled towards the cashier with your cart. It was almost full with meat, vegetables, some fruits, juices and snacks – mainly for Chanyeol. He had a really sweet tooth, you noted by looking at all the cereals, chocolates and candies he gathered in the furthest corner from you. There were some instant ramyeon and rice too.

“We’ll figure out something.”

It was late for lunch by the time you arrived home, so you made some instant noodles, which didn’t make Chanyeol the happiest. He looked at the ramyeon as if it betrayed him by not being a full course. He didn’t say anything about it out loud, but disappointment was written all over his features.

“Stop looking at it like that. I’ll make bulgogi stew for dinner.”

You quickly looked away when his eyes lit up once again, and started to eat the noodles fast. He was done in a few minutes. Chanyeol rushed to throw the used cup away and placed his chopstick in the sink, then basically ran back to the table, staring at you in anticipation. Returning the look, you cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

“What?”

“When are you going to start making it?”

A laugh escaped your mouth against your will at his eagerness. Does he love meat that much? He didn’t took your joy in the good way: he pouted and rather rushed to the living room. You wanted to call after him, but didn’t.

You cleaned up the table after finishing your ramyeon too, and went after Chanyeol. He was sitting on the floor, right next to your usual working spot and hugged his knees to his chest, looking like a big, sulking puppy.

“I work for a few hours, then make dinner. You can help if you want to.”

He kept on his posture, but faced you as you sat down next to him, forcing your laptop to life. The screen lit up, and you focused on the edit you left in half yesterday, and frowned a little. You made a big mistake upon editing a picture, which seemed to be impossible to ignore now, but didn’t even notice the day before.

The air stuck in your lungs as Chanyeol stretched his legs, and scooted so close to you that his thigh was pressed to yours. He seemed unfazed by the close proximity, only hummed a soft tune under his breath and turned the TV on, searching for something to watch until dinner time.

You wondered if you should have mercy on him: just ditch work and start making the bulgogi stew immediately, but then abandoned the idea, since you remembered that the deadline was getting closer, and there will be articles coming in fast in the next few days. It wouldn’t do any good for you getting behind your schedule.

Chanyeol’s soft sighing helped you focus. It was a nice background sound along with the voices coming from the TV, and soon you noticed that he was watching you work on your laptop rather than paying attention to the show on the screen. You realized you could get used to it.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blink of an eye. You fixed yesterday’s editing mistake and worked on today’s to-do’s, and time seemed to fly by fast. After some time, Chanyeol fell asleep next to you, his head bobbing forward from time to time. You nudged his side with your elbow to send him to Seoyun’s room to sleep comfortably, but he leaned on you rather than waking up, his head resting on your shoulder, so you just let it as it was.

One would say you had a soft spot for him in your heart, and they wouldn’t be that far from the truth. You felt responsible for him when Seoyun wasn’t home. And you weren’t even his owner.

As you finished working for the day, you tried to wake Chanyeol up again, but he didn’t even budge, so you started to make dinner alone. He fell down to where you were sitting before, knees hugged to his chest, soft huffs escaping his lips in his sleep. You put a blanket on him before preparing the meal.

He only woke up when the food was almost ready, the smell of it filling the whole apartment. Chanyeol wandered into the kitchen, eyes scanning over everything as he tried to comprehend what was happening. When his eyes rested on the food at last, a pout forming on his lips, eyes bigger than ever. You hid your smile behind your hand as you turned back to the stove.

“You said I can help.”

“You were sleeping too heavily for me to wake you up.” You shrugged. “Isn’t it better to wake up from a nap to food ready to be eaten, then have to make it too?”

“But you said I can help.” He was on full puppy-eyes-mode now, and you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

Something came over you, so you went to him and patted his head a few times.

“You’ll help next time, okay? Let’s just eat now.”

You found yourself feeling weird when Chanyeol wasn’t around while Seoyun worked, although it rarely happened lately. The tall hybrid came out of their room in the morning and stayed around you ever since you went out for grocery shopping with him. He didn’t just sit next to you while you worked, you two also started to watch the news together, though he hates it with passion, but you also watched some dramas with him which he picked and seemed to love greatly. You watched one or two episodes with him each day, eating food during it, while the both of you waited for Seoyun to find her way home.

It wasn’t that different that day too. You just finished some pad thai, you ordered earlier. Chanyeol taking up the whole couch with his lean body, while you sat in front of him on the carpet, remaining of the late dinner scattered on the coffee table, and the announcer on the screen spoke about the day’s news with a serious expression on their face.

Your ears perked at the word ‘hybrid’ coming from the TV, and you heard Chanyeol’s breathing stop behind you. Eventually, he scooted a little closer to you, feeling his body heat clear.

The announcer spoke about a protest that was held in front of the Municipal Court. People were demanding more precise laws on the hybrids’ keeping, and demanding the bare rights for them that every being deserves.

You felt a lump form in your throat as one of the protesters told the interviewer an insane amount of cases where the owners abused their hybrids and no one did anything about it.

Anger bubbled up in you as you switched the channels, trying to find one where you can watch Chanyeol’s drama instead. Your other hand shot out without really thinking about it, and grabbed the hybrid’s hand that was hanging from the couch. He stiffened at your touch, but soon relaxed again.

“What’s the name of that show we were watching yesterday? I can’t remember.”

“It’s on Channel 6. But there’s still an hour before it starts.”

“Okay. What about the one before it?” You asked while already turning to said channel.

“We haven’t seen the previous episodes yet.”

You smiled. His voice was whiny, you could literally hear that he was pouting. You silently switched to the next one, settling with a variety show that didn’t need any explanation, it could be seen as it was. Chanyeol probably liked it too, since he didn’t complain again, only his soft breathing could be heard.

Carefully, you let go of his hand and pulled your knees to your chest, eyes wandering to the digital clock under the TV, then to your phone. Seoyun promised to be home by dinner, yet she was nowhere. She didn’t even send you a text to let you know she will be late or when will she come back. Maybe she went out for a drink with his colleagues again. Or someone else.

You tried hard not to glance in pity at Chanyeol. He was left behind a lot more than he should have been. He was just too kind for an owner who neglected him like Seoyun did.

You finished the show, even his drama, and Chanyeol slowly but surely fell asleep on the couch. You brought a blanket to put on him. Covering his whole body wouldn’t be an easy task if he wouldn’t sleep with his legs pulled up. You smiled, when you remembered how his body never fit on the couch when he tried to stretch on it while laying down. He seemed to be ridiculously tall sometimes, yet you couldn’t imagine him being any shorter.

Stifling a yawn, you threw out the empty boxes of the pad thai, put the left overs in the fridge and cleaned the kitchen a little, being very aware not make any loud noise that could wake Chanyeol up.

It was past midnight, and you were cleaning the bathroom too, when Seoyun arrived home. You welcomed her in the hall, and offered her some water as you saw her pitifully drunk form. She refused it, and rambled about some man he met during drinking with her colleagues, and how this mysterious man was so polite towards her, even paid for her taxi after they spent an hour at his place. You didn’t need to ask what they were doing there, it was obvious from the messy state of her clothes and hair.

You quietly listened to her, and tried hard not to chime in and broke down her hopes. This kind of story happened a few times to her. A man charmed her in a bar, they spent some happy hours at his place, he told her he will call tomorrow, yet he never even asked for her number in the first place. Seoyun somehow believed them every time, and hoped that finally this one would ‘the one’, but they never were.

“You really don’t want some water? Or something to eat? There’s some pad thai from earlier.”

“No, I don’t want food, I want… Hm… I want to sleep, I think.”

“Good,” you sighed in relief. You would be doomed if she would have wanted to dance or sing like she usually did. “Chanyeol fell asleep on the couch.”

“Oh, I should wake him up. I want to cuddle with him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that. Seoyun should just let him sleep peacefully for once. You really wanted to tell her no to bother him in his sleep, but you pursed your lips tightly together and refused to say anything. It wasn’t your place to intertwine, you reminded yourself, which you caught yourself doing a lot lately.

“Do whatever you want, Seoyun, just take a shower first. You stink…” Dramatically putting your hand in front of your nose and mouth, you tried to lighten the mood, and it worked. Seoyun snickered in a high pitched voice, one she only used when she was drunk. She jokingly hit you on the shoulder, almost missing it and stumbling a little, but the smile on her face couldn’t be wiped away.

“It’s not that bad. Oh, would you look at my little Chanyeollie?”

You listened to her cooing upon seeing Chanyeol’s sleeping form on the couch. Her features softened, she even sobered up a little, and you thought, maybe she wasn’t as bad as you thought of her lately.

Shame was something that you rarely felt, but now it washed over you in a big wave, hit you in the head and made you lower your gaze. Still standing in the kitchen, you listened as Chanyeol woke up and happily greeted her owner, then they went to her room, the door closing behind them with a soft thud.

You noted how she never went to wash up.

The next morning Seoyun has already went to work when you woke up. You turned off your alarm, wanting to sleep in for a few more minutes, or for ten, so it was not such a surprise that she wasn’t home by then.

You were getting dressed, as a soft, almost hesitant knock on your door startled you. Surprised, you kicked your feet in the edge of your wardrobe. Hissing and swearing in pain, you called out:

“What is it?”

Chanyeol’s mumbling was too quiet for you to comprehend his words. Sighing, you buckled your belt, then wondered why did you even dressed for going out. Your original plan escaped your mind.

Another knock echoed through your room, tearing you out from your thoughts. Opening the door, Chanyeol towered over you, but his troubled expression made you feel like you were the taller one and he’s just a little kid. His lips even quivered as he opened them to say something.

“Can we go for a walk? Seoyun noona said I’m not allowed to go out alone.” His voice got smaller and smaller as he spoke, you could barely hear his last words. Yet still, your eyebrows furrowed. Something felt off with him, but you couldn’t wrap your fingers around what it was. He looked the usual. Maybe there was faint dark circles under his eyes, but it could be the aftereffect of Seoyun waking him up in the middle of the night.

“Of course. Let’s go!”

As he kept looking at you with a troubled expression, you wondered what was really up. And why did you originally dressed for going out. You gave up on solving any of those mysteries, and just asked him.

“Is there something else?”

“Um, no… I mean, yes. Can we get hot chocolate?” You smiled at his innocence. He must have took it in the wrong way, since he looked away quickly, avoiding eye contact very obviously.

“Yeah, but where did that come from?”

You went back to grab a sweater and your wallet. Chanyeol awkwardly lingered in the doorway.

“I saw on a drama that people like to drink hot chocolate around winter. And there were commercials for it lately, so I want to try it.”

“Right, dramas.”

The corner of his lips slowly lifted up, forming a shy smile. You motioned for him to move and get ready, then you went out.

You quickly searched for a coffee shop near your apartment on your phone and decided on route that you would walk by. Even asked Chanyeol how much has he seen of the city, so maybe you could show him some places he never heard of.

To your surprise, he barely saw anything of it. In a hushed voice, he told you that his first owner never let him out of their house, he could only run free in the garden, and they never let him meet with other hybrids. In the end, they put him in a shelter. You couldn’t say anything to him at the moment. The words in your mind felt overused and cliché, so instead you just patted his shoulder and told him that things will be okay now.

He shot you an unsure smile, then nodded along. His next words surprised you even more though:

“I think I’m happy now.”

Patting his shoulders again, it was your turn to smile, reassuringly.

“That’s good! I’m glad about that,” you said. “There’s a river nearby. We can go there after getting hot chocolates. It has a really nice scenery.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

And so you did. Tasting hot chocolate for the first time, he looked like a child on Christmas Eve, eagerly opening their presents and finally getting the toys of their dreams. And his eyes sparkled like two stars in the night sky when you arrived to the river.

There was a park near it, a path for runners following the line of the river. You always thought, it must be nice to go on runs while listening to the splashes of water so close to you, but you weren’t the runner type.

Winter coming, the green has faded away from the plants, but the gloomy gray sky made the water look even prettier like that. Slowly, nature was dying to give way to the cold months, which would be followed with its rebirth. You couldn’t wait for spring to come. The even better thing was that if you walked down the road for a few more minutes, you would meet with cherry trees. They looked mesmerizing when they bloomed.

“It would be nice to come here during the first snow,” he mumbled.

When you turned to him, Chanyeol’s eyes were on the river, sometimes glancing up at the sky, as if he was expecting it to start to snow at that moment. A tiny smile played on his lips. As he sighed, white puffs of air escaped his mouth, and you thought maybe it was time to go back to the apartment.

“Saw it on dramas too, huh?”

“You saw it too, noona?”

“Maybe. Romantic dramas tend to mention it, you know. They say if you kiss your loved one under the first snow of the winter, you will stay together forever.”

“Really? Is it true?”

“I don’t know.”

You didn’t want to wipe the soft smile off his face by saying it was just an urban legend that’s useful for drama writers. He doesn’t have to know that kissing under the first snow not always meant forever. At least not for you.

You really didn’t know what you should have believed. You saw the bruise on Chanyeol’s wrist clearly and an another one higher up on his arm, but he quickly tugged his sleeves down when he noticed you staring at it. They looked like ugly purple and blue roses that bloomed on his skin.

“What happened?” you asked him cautiously.

Muting the drama he was watching, when he refused to look at you and answer, you turned to him. Chanyeol’s eyes were trained on the screen, the main characters only mouthing words, he couldn’t make out. The hybrid’s eyebrows furrowed into a serious and stubborn line, one, which didn’t suit him at all. A pained look on him wasn’t something you wanted to witness at all. It was simply strange.

He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Well, the King is mad at his son for disobeying him, but it’s understandable because he just wanted to…”

“Not in the drama, Chanyeol.” He flinched at your low tone, scurrying a little further from you on the couch. You felt a slight pang in your chest, and continued a little softer. “Your wrist. What happened to it?”

“Nothing.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No. I was just…” The words died on his lips, and refused to say anything more, no matter how you twisted your questions around.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

Chanyeol was barely in contact with anyone beside you and Seoyun. And you never grabbed his arm or wrist with so much strength to bruise him. Hell, you barely ever touched him!

And it left you with only one option you could think about, but that was unbelievable for you. Seoyun couldn’t. She would never, right? She would never raise hand on him. Right?

“Can I take a look at it?” You asked him softly, voice above a whisper.

He stared at you for long moments before scooting closer on the couch, the old furniture creaking under his weight. He slowly held his arm out for you, and you took his hand, being cautious not to grab his wrist on instinct. Fingers gently brushing together with his, you stroked them in a calming manner. Then with your free hand you pushed his sleeve up, revealing the ugly roses on his skin again.

Chanyeol sharply inhaled as you brushed your fingers on the bruise, only letting it go when he hissed a little in pain.

Without a word, you went to your room, looking for a cream you remembered to be in there somewhere and to be good for bruises. You just hoped it didn’t expire yet, since it was a long time ago you bought it.

You found it and was still good, so you went ahead and applied it on Chanyeol’s arm. He hissed again when the cold cream touched his skin and you ignored it, continuing your motions, but with gentler strokes.

Putting the volume back up on the TV, you instructed him to wait until his skin fully absorbed the cream, but the rattling of the lock from the front door startled both of you.

In a hurried manner, Chanyeol pulled down the sleeve of his sweater, then basically ran into the bedroom, quickly closing it behind himself.

You sighed in defeat. Something was very, very wrong, and it was too obvious for you to ignore. Biting down on your lower lip, you argued with yourself whether you should bring it up to Seoyun or not. Was it your place to talk to her about something like that? You weren’t anyone to Chanyeol, you just lived with them, but… What an awful human being you should have been to shut your eyes when the evidence of abuse was right in front of you.

You closed your eyes. The drama still went on, and for once you wished for Seoyun to come home later, so Chanyeol could have finished the episode in peace as he always did. You wished for those ugly roses to never bloom on his skin, so you wouldn’t have to do what you will as soon as your roommate comes into the living room.

Sailors must have known something when they said it’s always the calmest before the storm. Your mind went empty and calm, but it was filled with cold anger at the same time. You wanted to yell your questions to Seoyun about those bruises, and hoped that she would be either honest with you or could lie so well that you would believe her. Hell, you wanted to believe that it wasn’t her who hurt Chanyeol, but the subtle fear in his eyes told you otherwise.

Seoyun was sober for once, and you were thankful for it. You didn’t know how would you handle her if she was drunk at that moment. Probably not so well.

Your feelings must have been clear on your face, because your roommate stopped in her track when she looked at you, then quickly averted her gaze, checking the room for Chanyeol’s presence. Even after making sure he wasn’t there, she refused to look at you.

“I think we should talk, Seoyun.”

“Ah, is it time for paying the rent already?” Her light tone made you fist your hand on the blanket that was previously wrapped around Chanyeol. It also made you insecure about what you saw and thought. Would she talking like that If she hurt him? “Or are we running low on groceries?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just saw a couple of bruises on Chanyeol. It concerns me.”

“It shouldn’t. Really.” “Seoyun, those aren’t the kind you get when you hurt yourself on accident. So what happened?”

“It’s none of your business, but he was bad.”

Once again, you closed your eyes and bit down on your tongue before something slipped out of your mouth. Mostly nasty words crowded in your mind, but after taking a deep breath, you pushed them aside. Reminding yourself that it was not your job or place to dig into someone’s life. Even if it was your roommate. You were always on good terms with her, so why was she getting you off with every word she said today?

“He was bad,” you repeated finally, in a low tone. She nodded fast, still standing in the middle of the living room as if he froze to that place.

“Yes. He needed to be disciplined, so as his owner, I did.”

“What do you mean by disciplined?” you asked, stunned by her words. Though, it couldn’t be any more obvious, you still asked. “And bad? What has he done?”

“He didn’t obey when I told him to do some things. And you know what I meant. I punished him, so he can learn how to behave next time.”

You felt sick in your stomach, a lump already forming in your throat. Seoyun’s expression hardened, stare grew colder and heavier as she added:

“Still. This is none of your business. I’m the owner of Chanyeol, not you, so don’t act like you know anything about keeping a hybrid. You don’t even want one in the first place.”

Gritting your teeth, you nodded, because she was right with everything she said. But that didn’t mean you won’t protect Chanyeol from her if needed or that you won’t seek any kind of help for him if things get out of hand. You will have to make sure about all of your rights in this situation first, then you can act.

You hummed and you plopped back down on the couch, eyes returning to the drama. You were long behind the plot, missing out a bunch of scenes, but your mind was still wrapper around the argument just had with your roommate.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw her stand there frozen for a hew more minutes, and when you refused to look at her again, she went to her room. You immediately lowered the volume down, fearing to hear noises of her hurting Chanyeol again, but there was mostly silence, mixed up with a couple of low murmurs, nothing bad or serious.

You turned the TV down, washed up before going to bed, but still couldn’t fall asleep. The thought of Chanyeol being hurt by your roommate kept you up for hours, and the next thing you noticed was the sunlight peeking through your window and the noises of Seoyun getting ready to work. Your ears were trained for listening to anything suspicious, but the only sounds were her getting a shower then leaving the apartment after talking to the hybrid about something you couldn’t make out.

“I’m not hungry, Noona!” Chanyeol’s muffled voice could be heard well in the quiet apartment, even through the locked bedroom door. You knocked on it previously to let him know you made breakfast for the both of you.

“Then how about a walk? We could go to the market or the park.”

“No. I just want to sleep.”

Defeated, you sighed. This wasn’t how you planned the day to go by. You wanted to eat with him and take him somewhere nice before working, then watch his dramas in the evening as you usually did, but now he refused to come out of the bedroom.

You knew he must have been hungry by now. He always ate a lot of anything you gave him, and even snacked afterwards, and it has been more than ten hours since the last meal he had, and he says he is not hungry. The red flags instantly appeared in your head, making your eyebrows furrow in worry.

Most of last night instead of sleeping you spent your time working in your room, while listening to every noise in the apartment, in hopes of catching any evidence against Seoyun’s nasty behavior. You also tried to seek some useful information online, but not really much was said on forums about laws regarding abusing hybrids.

“I’ll leave some food for you in the fridge,” you said after a while. When no answer came, you went to the living room to work away your frustration.

Your appetite disappeared with Chanyeol’s rejection, so you simply put the food away. You wanted to go out to clean you mint with the cold winter air, but didn’t have the heart to leave him completely alone. Even though he didn’t want to come and spend time or eat with you, it was a whole another story to be the only person in the apartment. If he changed his mind, he would have no one to turn to with Seoyun being at work.

Still, you sent a message to your roommate, asking her a favor, which you rarely did.

Y/N: Hey, would it possible for you to get home earlier today? [8:37]

Y/N: I have somewhere to be at 3, and can’t take Chanyeol with me there. [8:38]

Seoyun: Okay, I talk to my boss, but he’ll probably let me off. We did a lot of overtime, so he has to. [9:03]

Y/N: Thanks! [9:04]

Seoyun: Welcome. I’ll be home around 2. [9:10]

Your heart felt a little heavier and easier at the same time. Ever since you saw those bruises last night on Chanyeol’s skin, you feared to leave him fully alone with Seoyun, and now you will do exactly that, willingly even. And you felt relieved, because it was for the better.

Since you couldn’t find anything useful online, you decided to go down the old roads, and visit some hybrid shelters. Their workers must know what to do in situations like this.

Were you taking it too seriously? Maybe. People discipline their dogs too when they behave bad. But Chanyeol wasn’t just a dog. He was a hybrid with human feelings.

Lunch time came sooner than you expected. Working and editing made hours fly by fast, and you cooked something quick and easy that was also filling too. A pasta with some creamy chicken did wonders. You took your sweet time making it, despite it being an easy meal to do. Cooking took your mind off of your problems. Instead, you made a list in your head about what you still had left from work today and planned your schedule for the rest of your day.

Going to the nearby hybrid shelter you found online. Making sure you ask everything you wanted from someone working there. If failing, then going to another shelter. Continue until you get your answers. After getting home, fixing yesterday’s editing mistakes on page eight and fifteen.

So your plan wasn’t that difficult at all.

When the food was ready, you put two servings on plates and started from step one with Chanyeol. You put his meal on a tray and brought it to Seoyun’s roo.

He didn’t answer to your knocking, and definitely didn’t open the door for you. You sighed, putting the tray in front of the door.

“Chanyeol? I made lunch, it will be at the door, please, eat it up.” You waited for him to reply, but his voice never came. You only heard the rustling of fabrics for a few seconds, then there was silence once again. “Also, I have to go out, so Seoyun will be home in an hour.”

Noises of his movements could be heard again, and you sighed in relief as the door creaked open for some inches. You even smiled a little when Chanyeol’s mop of hair and fluffy ears peeked out through it. He looked down at you with wide eyes, gaze full of questions. Then, in a small voice, he asked:

“Can’t I just go with you?”

Instantly, your smile turned bitter, giving him an apologetic look and the shook of your head.

“I’m sorry, Chanyeol, I can’t take you there.”

Averting eye contact, he looked down at his feet. He huffed, a scowl coming to his features.

“But I’d be good. I could just wait outside.”

You felt bad for him, and scowled yourself too. He was so persistent about going with you, but you couldn’t just bring him with you to the shelters. At worst, he would misunderstand it, and you certainly didn’t want him to hear you talking about legal options for abused hybrids. You were pretty sure, he would shut off in front of you for a good while, if he heard that conversation. No, you had to go alone, and talk with an expert with a clear mind. Chanyeol would distract you, since you would had to censor your words with him in the room. And you couldn’t just leave him waiting for you in front of a hybrid shelter. What the hell would he think about you after that? Your relationship took a turn for the better lately, ruining it wasn’t something you wanted or needed.

Slowly, you reached out, ruffling his hair a little. He leaned into your touch, so you kept petting him, stroking his golden-furred ears with care.

“You really can’t come along now, Chanyeol.” His face scrunched up at your words. A sudden emptiness got cozy in you chest when he stepped back and shut the door right in your face. Your hand fell back next to your body, the feel of his fur and hair still tingling your skin.

Chanyeol didn’t come out to eat until Seoyun arrived home sharp at two. You changed a few words with her, mainly thanking her for coming home early for you, but that was all. She acted a little distant, but still as if the conversation from last night never happened. You were stiff around her too, tiptoeing around with your words and actions with knowing where you were planning to go.

You updated her on Chanyeol not eating and about the food for her being in the fridge. She didn’t have to know that you didn’t eat your lunch either, because of the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Handling secrets and nervousness wasn’t your thing.

Inhaling the cold, but clean winter air you finally noticed your head throbbing with pain, so you took an altered route to the first shelter with bumping into a pharmacy too for some painkillers.

Rubbing your hands together, you blew air on them for warmth, but it wasn’t much help. Luckily, you finally arrived to your destination.

EXO Shelter wasn’t fancy or too outstanding from the outside or the inside. A simple gray building with tinted windows and only the opening hours plastered on the door. A bell tinged when you entered, and the light gray theme continued on the inside too, accompanied with some white furniture.

At the counter a red haired man gave you a smile, and with warm, but curious eyes followed your moves.

“Hello! How can I help you?”

You hesitantly walked up to him, not so sure what you were supposed to do anymore. Was it really the good thing to do? Or your place to do it?

The man waved a hand in front of your face, and you shook your head to get unnecessary questions out of your mind. His name tag said he was Baekhyun, and his smile was a little hesitant now.

“Sorry. I don’t know if I came to the right place,” you said.

“Well, if you are looking for adopting a hybrid or need some advice with taking care of them, then I assume you are right where you need to be.”

“I’m looking for more of help with something a little more… sensitive.” “Ah!” He winked at you and nodded along knowingly, which only confused you. “Is your hybrid experiencing their first heat?”

“Heat? No, no, no. It’s not like that. And not about my hybrid.” You look around the small welcoming area and the door. People could walk in any moment. “I’m looking for some legal advice.” “About what?”

“Abuse.”

The pleasant smile fell from his face. Nose scrunching up, he nodded to himself. With a finger held up in the air, he motioned for you to wait, and he reached for the phone on the counter. His fingers quickly put a number in, then in a few seconds he already got hold of who he called.

“Hey! I have a customer with me, I’m sending her in. Hm, no, I don’t know much, but you’ll need Jongdae too, probably. She said abuse and not hers. Okay! Thanks, Junmyeon!” With that, he turned back to you. His smile reappeared, although a little strained. “The boss is ready to see you. You can meet our legal advisor too, but I have to warn you: don’t get your hopes too high up!”

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he already slipped out from behind the counter and went ahead to a closed door at a further corner of the room. He was fast on his feet, leading you through a few corridors and doors, not once crossing the real shelter area, where the hybrids were. You mostly saw storage and staff’s room, before you arrived to Baekhyun’s boss’ office.

Junmyeon was waiting for you with his door opened, standing up from his chair as soon as you stepped in. Another man, probably the mentioned legal advisor, Jongdae was there with him, both of them giving you rather sad smiles. It only racked your nerves up more.

Baekhyun left you alone after a quick introduction.

Junmyeon offered you a seat opposite from himself. Jongdae stood next to him, resting his hand on the back of his boss’ chair.

“Baekhyun mentioned you are here for advise with hybrids’ abuse. And they are not yours?”

“Ah, yes. My roommate took home a hybrid a few months ago. It wasn’t ideal in the first place… I mean, she stays out a lot because of her job and… Anyways, last night I noticed some bruises on her hybrid’s wrist and arm. They were pretty nasty, and when I mentioned my concerns to my roommate she only said that Chanyeol was bad so she punished him.”

Your voice was weak, and the words left a sour taste in your mouth. Pictures of Chanyeol’s sad eyes came to your mind as he asked you to let him come along. Combined with the thought of him being in pain, it made your heart twist in a painful way.

“What is his breed?”

“Chanyeol is a Labrador Retriever hybrid.”

“From what I understand, mainly you are the one spending time with him. Is that correct?”

“Yes. I work from home, so yes.”

“Good. Have you noticed anything unusual about his behavior beforehand? Any signs that it wasn’t the first time it happened?”

“I’m not sure. He was always a little shy with me. I’m not familiar with hybrids, so I don’t know how he should naturally act, but he always seemed to be afraid to ask to ask for anything from me, if that makes sense.”

Junmyeon shifted in his seat, eyebrows furrowed, lost in his thoughts, a not so promising look in his eyes. And his next words confirmed it too.

“Look, it might sound harsh, but I need to be blunt with you. There’s not much we or you can do yet. Jongdae?”

The other man cleared his throat before speaking up.

“Yeah. The laws are really behind at this moment. I don’t know if you follow the news, but lately there seems to be a shift for the better. There are plenty of protest for hybrids’ rights, including abuse too.”

You leaned back in your seat, feeling defeated. This wasn’t the answer you were looking for. In your mind pictures of the late night news flashed, remembering all those strangers shouting their demands for hybrids to anyone who cared to listen.

Jongdae must have read the hopelessness from your face, as he continued in a softer tone.

“Right now, your only option would be to prosecute your roommate for hybrid abuse and hope for the best. The most favorable option would be if you had firm evidence on what she did to her hybrid, or have him make a statement, and even then it wouldn’t be sure if you could get him out of that situation.”

“Remember that case from last September?” Junmyeon asked suddenly, looking up at his colleague, then back at you. “It was similar to yours, only it was between siblings. The younger one took home a cat hybrid, and after some time the older noticed that something was wrong. The owner physically and sexually abused the hybrid. The older sibling had video evidence of it from different times, so it was a pretty solid evidence. Took it to court, and in the end the abuser got out free and without any punishment. They didn’t even took the hybrid away. A few weeks forward, the hybrid passed away because of ‘unforeseen things’.”

“But how?”

“The owner had a good lawyer.”

“The devil’s advocate, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, that guy only held back for any hybrid case in court. He and the owner basically made up lame excuses for each piece of video evidence. ‘I did this because my hybrid refused to learn to use the toilet’, ‘It happened because they peed on the carpet’, and the forever classic: ‘I punished them because they were bad’. And it wasn’t dismissed in court. What a shameful punch in the face for hybrids rights!”

“So you are telling me that I should sit back and watch my roommate destroy Chanyeol because the law don’t do shit?”

You started to loose your calm. Listening to all these disgusting details about the poor hybrid’s life, you wanted nothing more than spare Chanyeol all that pain. He won’t end up like that, you promised yourself.

“Not at all. But right now, you have nothing to secure your success if you would report your roommate. You should watch and maybe step in if you catch her in action. It would be even better if you could ask for a neighbor to come over when it happens. It means you have a witness on your side, which can’t be that easily dismissed in your case.”

“Also,” Junmyeon chimed in. “You should think hard and long about the future of that hybrid before doing anything rashly. Would you take him in? Could you provide him a safe place, so he could be far from your roommate? Or you would put him in a shelter? Would you ask us to take him in? There’s a lot you have to make clear for yourself before you act. You can’t just get him out of a situation then leave him without any option for his future. I mean, yes, hybrids are partly humans, but the animal part of theirs make them very depending on humans.”

Drumming your fingers on your thigh, you could only keep nodding in response. Your head got full of questions and answers, things that needed to be done, preferably right now, all at once.

Both man gave you expecting looks, but you simply nodded one last time and thanked them for their time and help, promising you will be back after thinking through everything.

Time around Christmas was never your favorite. Before the holidays, you had to rush with editing for the magazine, but afterward it seemed time has stopped, everything was so slow. Anyway, you were happy to get out from your comfort zone and go home to your parents for the holidays, although more than a little anxious for leaving Chanyeol alone.

Seoyun went home for Christmas too, taking Chanyeol with her, so it made you a little relieved. You like to believe that she wouldn’t hurt him while there was a possibility of her parents figuring out what she did.

Until then, you haven’t really talked to Seoyun. All of your conversations were mainly put together of formalities, and Chanyeol shut you off too. He stayed in the bedroom, locked away, only coming out when you told him the meal was ready to be eaten. You tried to talk to him, explaining him what you were planning to do, but he never listened, rather scurried back in the safety of the bedroom before you could tell him anything. So you just sighed, and kept preparing everything for the time when things would go south. And you expected it to happen. Just not right after Christmas.

Happy about finally getting home, you had plans about tucking yourself in your bed and sleeping away any thought of the cold; you fiddled with the lock a little. Your fingers were shaking, since you never wore gloves and the winter air bit into your skin harshly. You felt a weird sense of pride, since you had done so much during the holidays. You checked every point off of your list of things-needed-to-be-done, as leasing a new apartment, getting in touch with a moving company and in all secrecy, you talked with one of your neighbors, explaining them the situation in vague words and asked them to come over if you called them.

You were on a good way to make sure everything was ready if Seoyun acts dangerously towards Chanyeol and you had to give him a new life.

After leaving EXO Shelter, there was only one thing you were sure about: you are not going to let Chanyeol get into there. You will give him a new home if he agrees and wants to live with you.

Shaking off your coat and boots after going in, you dropped your bags down, deciding to put it in your room later. First you needed a mug of hot tea. This cold weather was seriously messing with you, and it haven’t even snowed yet. Maybe soon it will happen, since the sky seemed to be nearly white with all the clouds melting into each other and thermometer never showed numbers above zero lately.

The apartment was quiet. Seoyun sat on the ouch, watching some rerun of a drama in the living room.

“Hey! Happy New Year!” You greeted her with a little bow of your head and she returned it, ripping her eyes off of the screen for a few seconds. You looked around, then casually asked: “Chanyeol?”

She waved your question off, so you assumed he was still moody and locked up in the bedroom. You didn’t want to think about any other options. You noted that you should check on him when Seoyun goes to showering, making sure she didn’t hurt him again.

Shrugging, you went to finally make some tea while listening to the sounds coming from the drama. It must have been a historical one, assuming from all the old kind of talking and mentions of kings and thrones. Otherwise, the apartment was eerily quiet.

It all downed on you when you reached for your mug; an unsettling feeling creeping its way into your body. Something was missing from the shelf. Chanyeol’s mug wasn’t there. He refused to drink hot beverages from anything else than that stupid blue mug with a smiling sun on it. It was childish from him, but that’s just who he was. You tiptoed a little, to see if it was deeper in the cupboard, but you couldn’t see any signs of it, and you just got a really bad feeling. Something dark and bad settled in your stomach, making your guts clench. All that quietness seemed to be more of a ‘calm before the storm’ now.

You rushed back to the living room, forgetting about the cold and the tea.

“What happened to Chanyeol’s mug?” For a moment you felt stupid for asking that, but the bad feeling in you heightened when Seoyun turned her head to you with a nonchalant look.

“I threw it out.”

“Why?”

Her hesitancy made your heart drop, forgetting to breath for a moment. Quick on your feet, you stormed to her bedroom, almost ripping the door open. And you froze right there.

Chanyeol wasn’t in there. All of his stuff were gone. Not even a sign he even lived there, everything wiped out of existence. Seoyun lingered behind you, face a little more careful now, eyeing you for reaction.

“Where is he?” You asked through gritted teeth, seeing red. She noticed your anger too, since she took a step back. It made you aware how you must have looked and acted. Anger got the best out of you. Forcing yourself to calm down a little, you looked back at her expectantly.

“I took him back to a shelter.”

“Why?”

“We weren’t matching, really. He was stubborn, never listening to what I told him to do. Honestly, he even listened to you better than he did to me.”

“So you hit him at first. And now you put him into a shelter because you were a bad owner to him.”

Your words stunned her into silence. You watched her constantly opening and closing her mouth, unable to mutter a response. For a second, you wondered if you hurt her feelings, then you remembered Chanyeol. The bruises on his wrist and arm. The begging look in his eyes as he asked you to let him come with you to whatever place you were going. The curious glances he stole at you while you were working. His little, hopeful smile when you walked to the river and talked about the first snow of the season.

It was too late for Seoyun to be the hurt one in this scenario. She caused irreversible damages to Chanyeol, the innocent hybrid, who she was supposed to take care of. And in that moment you felt relieved that you decided to plan everything out for the time when shit hits the fan.

“Which shelter did you take him to?” Your voice was strong and unwavering, almost demanding. She shivered upon hearing it, but her hands balled into fists.

“I don’t remember its name. It’s the closest to us, near that fancy coffee shop.” In comparison, she whispered, eyes not really meeting yours anymore. You nodded, but she didn’t see it.

“I’ll be moving out in the next week. I will take care of paperwork, talk to the landlord, and pay my share for this month’s rent, bills, everything, but that’s it. You can start looking for a new roommate, or whatever you want, just leave me out of it.”

You walked out of her room, planning to go and find Chanyeol, having a hunch feeling which shelter he could be and hoping you were right, as Seoyun called after you.

“Y/N.” She sighed when you didn’t turn back to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care. I’m not the one you are owning an apology to.” Thinking a little, you turned to look back at her with a hard, pointed look in your eyes. “On the other hand, if you ever try to go near him, you’ll regret it.”

Eyebrows furrowed, you saw that she wanted to question you, but didn’t do it and you were thankful for it. You may have looked all cool and collected to her, but your hands were slightly shaking and your heart was beating so erratically as if it was planning on suicide.

You put your boots and coat back on, biting down on your tongue hard. Your bag waited for you at the front door, right where you put it down, but laundry had to wait some more.

Walking in a fast pace down the streets, you once again looked up hybrid shelters online, searching fo the closest to your apartment. And your intuition was right: EXO Shelter was the closest one, so you really hoped to find Chanyeol there.

You set yourself a quick walking pace. Worry seeped into your thoughts, mixing with your anger towards Seoyun. You wanted to curse at her and tell her off for hours and hours, but you also wished to fin Chanyeol immediately. Since the two couldn’t be done at the same time, obviously, the latter became the priority.

You payed no mind to the people passing by you who looked at your running form questioningly, or even weirdly, you only thought about reaching the shelter fast and begging to an unknown deity to let Chanyeol be there.

And maybe someone up there listened to your silent pleas.

Your abrupt arrival to EXO Shelter must have been a sight to see. There was hours of traveling from home and an argument behind your back, your insides bubbling with worry, anger and hope, all at once.

Baekhyun was behind the counter, watching you pant in the welcoming area. Bending in half as you tried to catch your breath, he tilted his head to the side, then asked:

“Hey, you came back! You okay? ‘Cause you don’t really look okay.”

“Hi! Is Chanyeol here?” You chocked out finally, and went to him.

“Who?”

“A tall dog hybrid. He was put in here after Christmas?”

He seemed to be thinking for a good few seconds, each felt like a minute, and your hopes started to sink to find the lanky puppy here. Damn it, Seoyun, which shelter did you bring him to?

“Wait, you mean the sulky one?” Seeing your arched brow, he explained himself: “Sorry, after the holidays there’s always a ton of hybrids brought in. People are just so irresponsible. They get them for their kids, then kick them out when they realize they should take care of them. Idiots, if you ask me.”

“So, Chanyeol?”

“Ah, Junmyeon told me about you, and yes, he is here. But I should take you to the boss first, I think.”

You bent forward again, still being breathless, but for other reasons than being tired from running so much. A huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and the invisible hand that had a strong grip on your heart, finally released it.

Baekhyun lead you down the same way. You knew from there you couldn’t see any of the hybrids, but you kept looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Chanyeol. The man must have noticed your fidgety peeking actions as he chuckled to himself, then knocked on his boss’ door. After a few seconds, you were invited in.

Your appearance got more reaction out of Junmyeon than it did from Baekhyun. The man behind the desk looked at you with widened eyes, then ever so slowly, a careful smile found its way to his lips.

“I’m happy to see you again.” You bowed at him, feeling nervous. You shifted from one leg to the other. “Thank you, Baek, I’ll handle it from here.”

The red haired man nodded. He gave you a nod too before he went back to his job, and closed the door behind himself.

Despite the smile, the look in his eyes were tired and alerted. You wanted him to tell you everything and take you to Chanyeol immediately, but his gaze held you back from asking. Fidgeting with your fingers, you simply sat down on the offered chair.

Junmyeon took his sweet time before he started to talk.

“I’m glad you came.” Mustering up your courage to protest, he dismissed it with waving. “It will probably seem unnecessary to you, but we have to go through some formalities. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course.”

“I assume you are here for Chanyeol.” You nodded, he continued. “Good. Do you have anything to do with his injuries?”

The air was knocked out of your lungs. You both knew you didn’t. He even said it was just formalities. But the way he phrased it meant Chanyeol was hurt again.

Your hand balled into fists, and you had to internally count to ten – or maybe sixty –, to be able relaxing. Letting out a long breath, you covered your face with your hand, thumb and index-finger massaging your temples. Whatever you tried, you couldn’t ready yourself for anything that were coming after that.

“So? Do you?” Junymeon’s voice tore you out of your thoughts.

“No. Last time I saw him was before Christmas.”

“That’s good. Are there any witnesses to confirm that?”

“I was with my parents the whole time. I wasn’t even in town, only came home this morning.”

His smile widened into a relieved one; one which you couldn’t read well. You had pieces of the puzzle, but your hands were trembling so bad you couldn’t put them together, to get the full picture. You figured that Chanyeol was injured again, and apparently they suspected you, too? Or maybe they just…

“Okay. I had to make sure you weren’t involved in what happened. And for Chanyeol’s sake, I hope you decided what you would do since last time we met.”

“Can you tell what happened finally? How’s Chanyeol? Can I see him now?”

“In a few minutes, you can. First, tell me your decision.”

The words stuck on your tongue, but you sputtered them out. You wanted this. Chanyeol needed and deserved this. A peaceful home together.

“I’m going to adopt him.”

“When?”

“Right now, if it’s possible. But I need a week before I can take him home.”

He cocked an eyebrow. The grip on your heart was back, but not so harshly.

“Your roommate?”

“I’m moving out. I won’t be taking him near that place ever again.”

Junmyeon must have been satisfied with your answers, since he abruptly stood up, motioning for you to do the same. You followed him as he walked out of the office, leading the way. With a few quick steps you fell in pace with him.

“That woman brought Chanyeol here, telling us how he was not up to her expectation. At first glance, he looked okay, but sad and drained out of life. He refused to eat, only asked for ‘Y/N Noona’. We noticed his injuries only on the second day.”

The lump in your throat grew as his words got heavier. Your heart beat to a fast rhythm, you hated it. You felt sick in your stomach.

With a dry mouth, you asked:

“How is he now?”

“He lets us tend to his bruises so they are healing fine, luckily. Barely eats, not even the home-cooked meals. Refuses to talk, and… he often asked us to find you in the beginning, but two days ago he stopped talking completely.”

Junmyeon’s words hung over you heavily, like a sword ready to kill you if you dare to make a mistake. And you didn’t plan making any. You wanted to comfort Chanyeol and make sure he is willing to come home with you.

“Let me talk to him alone. Please.”

“Okay. But I will be on the other side of the door, listening and step in if you upset him.”

Arguing wouldn’t do you a favor, so you nodded instead. After going through one more door, you arrived to the… well, you didn’t know what to call them. It was a plain hallway with a lot of glass doors, each one of them having a hybrid behind them.

Junmyeon led you to the last one, pointing at the glass.

“He’s in there.”

You followed the direction of his finger, seeing a little yellow room, with a brown bed. A curled up figure laid on it, golden ears peeking out of brown hair. His face was hidden from you, and he wore gray clothes: sweatpants and a hoodie. The pants were too short for him, his ankles were uncovered along with his feet.

Junmyeon opened the door for you with a key taken from his pocket. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the handle, but before you could walk in, he spoke up once again:

“I’ll be right here, listening.”

You hummed in agreement, eyes never leaving Chanyeol’s figure. You saw his ears twitch a little, but still not moving.

Walking in, your hands were sweaty and warm. Feeling restless you shifted from one foot to the other, looking for the perfect words to say to him. But they weren’t needed.

You saw Chanyeol’s chest rise as he breathed, then he froze. His head shot up, ears perking up in anticipation as he looked right at you. When you locked eyes with him, Chanyeol was quick on his feet, caging you with his arms after two long strides of his feet.

Tears were fast to come, fingers tightly clutching into the fabric of the hoodie. His lanky body was wrapped around you, the hug felt more like a bear’s rather than a dog hybrid’s, but it was perfect. All the words you planned to tell him died on your lips as you felt him shiver and shake against you, a drained noise leaving his mouth, involuntarily.

You twined your fingers into his hair, caressing and petting his head and ears, while he hugged you tighter.

“Y/N Noona,” he chocked out, and your heart shattered right there. “I knew you would come for me.”

“Of course, Chanyeol, of course I came.”

Soft voice and hands seemed to work wonders on him. He slowly calmed down in your arms, but refused to let you go. He kept tugging the sleeve of your coat when you let him go, only to look for a napkin to clean his face a little. You didn’t have one on you, so you wiped his tears with your fingers and the back of your hand. Chanyeol leaned into your touch, starved of affection for a long while. You were willing to give him anything he needed to see him smile again.

“Let’s sit down, Chanyeol,” you guided him to the single bed in the narrow room, very aware of the gaze staring holes into your back, watching your every move. You had to work hard to ignore it completely, and only focus on him.

Chanyeol pressed himself close to you when you took seat on the edge of the mattress, his thigh and arm aligning with yours, hands still grasping your wrist. He was trying to stop you from leaving, you realized.

“Are you here to take me back?” He asked in a raspy voice, words small compared to his size. He hiccuped and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks as you looked at him. You caught the tears before they fell, then hugged him. He felt so little in your arms. “I don’t want to go back, Noona.”

“We’re going to go home, Chanyeol,” you choked out, caressing his back slowly. “Nothing bad will happen to you ever again, okay?”

“But I don’t want to go back there! I’ll be a good boy, I promise you, so please, don’t take me back there,” he begged you.

“I won’t. I promise. Just give me a little time.”

Your whispered words were welcomed with soft humming, and he started to calm down in your hold. He just laid there, clinging to your hand and his breathing finally became even, sobs not escaping his lips anymore.

Sighing, you hugged him a little tighter.

“Can you do something for me, Chanyeol?” He stiffened in your arms, still as a stone, making you assume you said the wrong thing. But it needed to be cleared, so you continued: “You are going to come home with me, but I still have a few things to take care of. I need a week to prepare everything before I take you home. That is, if you want to live with me.”

“You’ll leave me here for one more week?”

His grasp on your hand was hard as steel. You softened your voice, trying not to upset him more.

“I’ll visit you everyday. But right now, our home is not ready yet. I have to move my things and buy you new ones.”

You decided he didn’t need to know the details of today’s happening. In a week, you’ll move out of your shared apartment and take Chanyeol to your new place. A fresh start for the both of you. You will figure out the rest together when you get there. First, you wanted to get over with this week, because you had a lot of things on your plate for now. Like moving, shopping basic stuff for Chanyeol (you would go and buy personal ones with him, so he could choose anything he wants or likes), getting paperwork done about moving out, talking with your current landlord, and the list just goes on, and on, and on.

Waiting for him to react felt like an eternity. But you were willing to wait. It was all for him, so you had to be sure he was okay with all of this. If he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, then you have to change your plans, until he is satisfied.

Voice low and shaky, he asked:

“You’ll come tomorrow too, right?”

“Yes. I will visit you every day until you can come home with me.” One of his hand landed on your knee, and gave it a squeeze. He was holding onto you with all of his might, so you added: “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

“I’m just happy that Noona found me. I thought…”

“And I’m happy that I found you. Nothing else matters. I found us a nice home, but we have to go pick your furniture and clothes yet.”

This seemed to catch his interest. His ears twitched in anticipation, and he twisted and turned in you arms until his back was laying on your lap and he could look up at you. Smiling down at him, you pushed his bangs back from his forehead. The skin around his eyes were red from crying, but the dark brown orbs finally shined with some happiness.

“I can pick anything I want?”

“Only between reasonable bounds. I’m not buying anything crazy or too pricey. I can’t afford going overboard right now.”

Chanyeol’s gaze drifted to the ceiling before locking eyes with you again. He was a little more serious now.

“I’m sorry for making you go through all this trouble for me.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, trying to escape through your throat, and you failed to slow its beating down. Without thinking, you placed a hand on his cheek, carefully caressing it. He hummed and closed his eyes in content. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“It’s not a trouble at all, Chanyeol.”

He didn’t reply, rather leaned into your touch. The crease between his eyebrows seemed to dissolve slowly, and you sighed loudly. Chanyeol’s eyelashes fluttered as your breath hit his skin, but didn’t open his eyes. His hands blindly reached out, feeling around until he found yours and grabbed them. Your hands were much smaller in his warm hold.

Time went by fast, and you noticed Junmyeon knocking on the glass door.

Chanyeol shuddered in your lap, his fingers squeezing your hand, but not letting them go. As you looked up, the owner pf the shelter motioned at his wrist watch, and you knew your time was up. They were probably closing for the day.

Stroking Chanyeol’s hair and ears one more time, you urged him to get up and asked for one more hug.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Hey, don’t be so sad! I said I’ll come by every day, and the week will be passing by fast, you’ll see.”

“Mm-hm,” he still sounded like he didn’t believe you. You patted his back, then grabbed his shoulders to look him in the eyes.

“And, Chanyeol? Eat the meals they’re giving you.”

“But they smell bad. Can’t you cook and bring it for me, Noona?”

He gave you big puppy-eyes, and you knew you were bought just like that.

Junmyeon knocked again, so you let Chanyeol go, and one more time, you promised to visit him tomorrow, too.

It felt weird tiptoeing around Seoyun in the apartment, so you went out early to work from a coffee shop or to order basic stuff for your new place. Though, after you got home last night she tried to talk to you, carefully choosing her words to find out whether you reported her or not. You refused to speak to her, and went straight to your room. Fortunately, she wasn’t brave enough to follow you.

The next day, Baekhyun waited for you with a stack of papers and a boxy grin.

“There you go!” He handed you the papers over the counter. “Junmyeon isn’t here, but asked me to give you these. It’s mostly about the usual things you should know about hybrids, their needs and how to provide them a safe home. You should go over it a few times, Junmyeon will probably test you on it before letting you sign the adopting papers.”

You were quick to flip over the pages, your eyes scanning the sentences, a few words stuck to your brain. You only paid half attention to Baekhyun. Your mind was already on the task to memorize most of those stuff sooner – it meant that Chanyeol could be with you sooner, too.

A light chuckle from the red haired man brought your attention back to him.

“You don’t have to learn all of it by today. I thought you are here to see our Chanyeol.”

“I am. How is he today?”

Stuffing the papers in your bag, next to your notebook, your eyes wandered to the food you brought for Chanyeol.

You watched Baekhyun close the shop before leading you to the back, down the same path that Junmyeon walked with you.

“He started to eat. Not much, but it’s a progress so far.” He seemed to be getting lost in his memories for a good second, before adding: “Oh, and he talks now. Mainly about you and that you will be taking him home in a week.”

Your cheeks felt hot and your head was dizzy for no apparent reason. Chanyeol must be really excited to finally get away from here, so he couldn’t stop talking about it. It was heartwarming. Now, you wanted to take him to your new home even sooner.

Baekhyun took you to the same hallway filled with doors that hid hybrids behind them. You were more confident in walking in there today, already having an idea what was waiting for you on the other side of the door.

And you were right.

Chanyeol threw himself at you, his long strides almost invisible to your eyes since he was so fast.

You heard Baekhyun laugh from behind, as you could barely keep yourself standing with all of Chanyeol’s weight put on you. You smiled and took a deep breathe of his scent. His mop of hair tickled your face, and you caressed his back with gentle touches.

“I’ll be back later, okay? I have to re-open the shop before Junymeon gets back, so be good you two!”

Barely registering his words, you were too occupied with hugging Chanyeol.

He smelled better, and wore fresh clothes. The apples of his cheeks were tinted with a light blush as he smiled right in front of your face.

You squeezed out a small ‘Yes, thank you!’ before giving your full attention to the giant hybrid attached to your body. He doesn’t seemed to listen to any of your conversation, just happily sighed in your ear and hugged you tigther.

His fluffy ears tickled your nose. You pressed a light kiss on the top of his head. Shiver ran through Chanyeol’s body.

For a long second, the world seemed to stop around you. The only sound you could hear was Chanyeol’s soft breathing. You held back your own. Waiting. And waiting.

Then the door clicked shut behind you, and you snapped out of the weirdly silent moment.

“Did you eat?”

Your question resulted in him pouting and letting his arms loose around you.

“I did. It wasn’t good.”

“I’m sure they gave you the food you need.”

“But what’s the point if it’s not delicious?” Chanyeol was acting sulky, and he kept sniffing around in the air. With his senses, he will find the food and the goods in your bag, rather sooner than later.

Combing through his hair, you petted his ears, then decided to have mercy on him and give him the dish you prepared. His head immediately shot in the direction of your bag. Eyes trained on your hands as you took out a plastic container, filled with some pasta and sauce; the very first meal you made for him.

It seemed to threw Chanyeol off. He could only stare at you and the container, eyes getting shinier with each passing second. He stopped moving over all, so you guided him to his temporary bed, and sat him down.

“You still love pasta, right?” You asked him, although you knew the answer.

He hummed eagerly. The look of concentration didn’t leave his face when you took off the container’s lid. His nostrils flared up as the meaty smell filled the small room. A warm, fluttery feeling bloomed in your chest, making you smile.

Your hand moved on its own as Chanyeol hesitantly opened his mouth, patiently waiting for you to feed him.

So you did.

Trying to stop the shaking of your hand, you moved the utensil fast close to him, ending up stuffing Chanyeol’s face. His eyes grew wide, and a satisfied smile spread on his lips. Those puppy-eyes of his shut in content, and an invisible weight quietly lifted off of your shoulders.

Seeing him eat and smile was all you could ask for in that situation. Maybe if you knew for sure if he slept well and for long enough hours, you could call it a day, but things weren’t that easy. They never were.

“In the evening I will go through all that paper, then in the morning start fixing if anything needed to be before the week ends,” you told him between two bites.

Chanyeol only hummed in response, being more interested in the food than your words. But you saw him glare in the direction of the stack of papers that were peeking out of your bag.

“Will you come tomorrow too?” He asked in a small voice.

“I will. What do you want to eat then?”

“Pasta and meat are good for me.”

After gathering and feeding Chanyeol the last pieces of the meal, you put away the container and the fork. While packing, you wondered what could you talk to him about without being insensitive. You really wanted to tell him about how it snowed during early morning, but worried if it would make him fall back into the pit of despair, so you didn’t. You remembered how you talked with him about experiencing it together by the river this winter.

Chanyeol’s face softened, a troubled expression took over his features, his smile slowly disappeared. You couldn’t solve the mystery behind the sudden change in his feelings. His eyes fell on you again, begging you to understand what he tried to communicate to you. Never in your life you wished more for the gift of reading people’s mind. But you didn’t have that power, so you asked him:

“What’s wrong, Chanyeol?”

“It’s nothing, Noona. I just… What happened to…”

There was no need for him to say who or what he was talking about anymore. You were most certain it was Seoyun. The fear in his eyes spoke more than words could. You opened your arms, inviting him for a hug to chase away his demons that manifested in the form of your old roommate. And you were willing to keep him as far away from her as you could.

Stroking through his hair, you gently whispered in his ear.

“You don’t have to worry about that. You will never meet her ever again.”

“I believe you, Noona.” He let out a sigh after saying that. Your heart shyly fluttered in your chest, and it was pointless to pretend he couldn’t hear how fast it was beating.

Days seemed to be flying past rather fast; time only seemed to slow down when you were not with Chanyeol.

He became more and more excited with every passing day, his ears kept twitching when around you, and the happy smile never left his face.

You read through all paperwork Baekhyun gave you during the time you weren’t working or with Chanyeol. Sleep wasn’t your companion lately, there was always something to do around the new apartment. Some parts even required you to make the place child-proof for him. Your days consisted of work, visiting Chanyeol, shopping and working on the apartment. Then the next day it repeated all over again.

The day finally arrived. Junmyeon welcomed you as soon as the shelter opened. You didn’t tell him that you went there an hour earlier and waited in your car until it was time.

Feelings were funny little things. They made you do stuff you never dared to imagine, but here you were: ready to adopt a hybrid – no, not just a hybrid, but Chanyeol –, who you grew so fond of. You were curious what life held for you from that point on.

“Are you ready?” Baekhyun’s red mop of hair made a sudden appearance in front of you, forcing you to make a halt in your steps. He answered his own question before you could even react. “Of course, you are. Chanyeol is really excited, he just won’t shut up about finally going home.”

“He is happy,” Junmyeon added with a more head-level tone. “But be gentle with him. He went through a serious trauma, its effect might kick in later.”

“Nightmares are for sure to be expected. Victims of abuse most of the times experience PTSD in the form of nightmares. They usually come out when they finally feel safe. Our mind do that to protect us from falling apart.”

The red head’s voice sounded sincere, free from joy or his usual spirit. You nodded at both men, not so patiently waiting for them to lead you to Chanyeol or the other way around. As if they heard your thoughts, Junmyeon motioned with his head for Baekhyun to go. His smile only then returned.

“I’ll be back with him in a moment.” With that, he left the office.

Junmyeon cleared his throat. You sat down, and the owner of the shelter gave you a little stack of papers.

“Read through them carefully, then sign at the bottom of the last page on both copies. As you requested, we included that you will have full responsibility of Chanyeol and you won’t be able to give him up in any shelter. It will be showing up on your file, just in case, and we will be sending your files to other shelters.” He coughed bashfully again. “This may seem a little too much, but we are trying to make sure he won’t have to go through that experience again.”

“It’s perfectly understandable. It will give Chanyeol reassurance, too.”

“Yes. We also included that only on his request can he be returned. I hope it won’t be the case, but if somehow the same patterns occur, Chanyeol can ask us to take him back, and a legal case will be opened up against you.”

It might have sounded scaring or alarming to anyone else, but you knew better. It was all to protect Chanyeol in the future and to secure him a safe home.

As you were going over the adoption papers, you heard a soft knock on the door. Junmyeon called them in. You watched Baekhyun return with a tall and smiling Chanyeol. His fluffy ears were twitching in excitement. When your eyes met, his smile widened and shyly walked to you. He placed his hand on the back of your chair. You couldn’t resist stroking his fingers before going back to the papers.

You finished reading them rather fast, then signed them with your initials.

It was done. The papers were signed, the apartment is ready for your future lives. It felt liberating, and a warm, bubbly feeling seeped into you. Is it what pure happiness felt like?

The four of you would have seemed like a merry little group to an outsider, but you knew that all of you were not just happy, but relieved. For Junmyeon and Baekhyun, it was a case won without any battles and they would know that a hybrid brought to their shelter will be in good care from that point on. For you, it was like saving someone so dear to your heart – a member of your family. For Chanyeol… It was written all over his face. A brand new start of his life. Finally being himself, being comfortable.

There will be difficulties, you knew that, and Junmyeon warned you earlier. But after the rain, the sun will always shine a little brighter and warmer. It was the course of life – with its occasional ups and downs.

They way to your new home was rather quiet. You saw how badly Chanyeol wanted to question where you were going, but never uttered a word. He just stared out the window from next to you, his ears still twitching from time to time as he watched the traffic around you. At a red light, he reached out for your hand. Quickly squeezing your fingers, then his hand was back on is lap.

Taking a look at his too short sweats, you said:

“Let’s go home first, and after that we could go get you some more comfortable clothes, okay?”

He nodded.

The apartment wasn’t that far from EXO Shelter with car, but it was far enough to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally run into Seoyun on a daily basis. A different part of town, more calm and modern then your previous place. You thought Chanyeol might like it when you picked it.

After parking in the buildings garage, you showed Chanyeol how to get to the lift from there, then went outside to show him the main entrance. Nothing special, but you knew he preferred walking instead of car rides, so you figured you should go that way first.

You didn’t even enter the building, but he was already holding onto the sleeve of your coat, tugging it a little with every step you took. Smiling, you got a hold of his hand, and never let go until you arrived to your apartment.

Fifth floor, door fifty-seven. A simple, light brown door, with the numbers painted on them with black.

Chanyeol clinged to you as you unlocked and opened the door, giving both of your a good look at the place. A little front area, barely big enough for two people to stand there and take their shoes off, which immediately opened into the living room. Not so big or spacious, but good enough. A TV, a coffee table, a couch and an armchair could fit in, but nothing really more. You had to make the decision of not having a dining table, since there wasn’t enough room for it, but to your luck, the kitchen was big for a little table with two chairs, and you could still comfortably cook – even if the two of you were in there. It was on the right side of the living room.

The two rooms were on the other side right next to each other, and a little bathroom next to the right bedroom. You planned to give Chanyeol the bedroom on the left side, since it had view on both the street and the small playground next to your apartment.

Chanyeol was in awe. His eyes grew bigger than you have ever seen them as he looks around the apartment. He touches everything with a little hesitancy, but as you never scold him for doing it, he becomes more courageous. Fingers dusting off your laptop on the couch, holding up some papers you have left on the small diner table, peaking into every cabinet and wardrobe.

Lastly, he goes for the bedrooms. He marches into yours, and comes out with a warm smile. Then hesitant again, he goes to his own. It seems he doesn’t like that so much, which makes your heart heavy. You know it doesn’t feel like a home to him yet – hell, it doesn’t feel like that to you either yet! –, but together you could make it.

Waiting for his reaction, still standing in the entrance area, you said:

“I know it isn’t much yet, but we can also buy some furniture tomorrow.”

He failed to respond, but you saw his tall figure slightly shake as he looked around the place again, turning his back to you. A long exhale escaped him, shoulders sank along with his whole body. The sudden change in his mood through you off too, but it was understandable. He went through a lot, more than you could ever wrap your head around now. Maybe, later he would feel safe and be comfortable enough to share it with you.

Chanyeol quickly turned and charged in your direction. Before you could understand what was happening, his arms were wrapped around you, his larger frame locking you in a tight hug. He was still shaking, more violently than before. You felt wetness falling on your face, but the tears didn’t belong to you.

“Thank you, Noona. I’m just… so happy. I’ve never had someone do so much for me and… make me this happy. I feel…”

Overwhelmed. He was feeling a lot of kind of feelings all at once, you figured from the way he sobbed and choked his words out. The torn, yet positive tone in his voice made you tear up as well.

No words were needed.

Being there for him was enough for Chanyeol to realize: he was finally home.

The first night in the apartment together was rough for both of you. Until the sun was up, everything felt light and dream like, but with the night came unsettling feelings, restlessness, mostly on Chanyeol’s side.

After dinner, he took a long shower while you cleaned up the aftermath of the meal. Washing the dishes, you proudly thought about how Chanyeol basically destroyed the dinner, even ate your leftovers.

You watched a movie later, but time was running by fast, and both of you were yawning crazily, so you decided it was time to go to bed. Wasn’t one of your best ideas, you figured later on.

Quickly showering you put on your pajamas, said goodnight to Chanyeol, but he lacked his usual shine. He was back in his gloomy mood, but you couldn’t help the tiredness that took over you. Running errands all week, while working and doing your daily things were exhausting, not even mentioning the emotional side of it all. It took its toll on you greatly.

“I’ll leave my bedroom door open, if anything happens you can come in and wake me up. Okay? And by anything, I mean anything. Bad dreams, sleeplessness, really anything. But I have to sleep for a few hours.”

“Okay. Have nice dreams, Noona.”

“You too, Chanyeol. Sleep tight, we have a long day ahead of us.”

He hummed in agreement, but it left a bitterness in you. You were prepared for a few hours of sleep, but despite the heavy feeling in your eyes, you just couldn’t fall asleep. You were hyper aware of all the noises Chanyeol made in the other room. You could hear him toss and turn almost every minute, and you couldn’t blame him. With everything that happened to him, in a brand new place, it wasn’t an easy task to sleep.

After he started to pace up and down in his room, you decided it was okay to put your tiredness aside for a little while. You went to Chanyeol’s room, and found him looking out the window, the blanket loosely wrapped around him. His tall figure looked even bigger in the mere moonlight that shone from outside, but his eyes made him vulnerable. Those lost puppy-eyes reflected loneliness and pain, that was too much for you to comprehend.

“Can’t sleep, Chanyeollie?”

Your voice was merely above a whisper.

“Mhm.”

“I told you to come to me if you have trouble sleeping,” you scolded him lightheartedly. Reaching out a hand for him seemed to work like magic, as his body responded immediately. His fingers wrapped around yours tightly.

“You were breathing slowly, so I thought you were already asleep.”

Leading him to the living room, you motioned for him to sit down, but instead he followed you to the kitchen. In two mugs, you warmed some milk for yourselves. Your mother used to give you warm milk with a hint of sugar to help you sleep easier when you were little.

Armed with your mugs, you sat down on the couch, getting comfortable in the blanket Chanyeol threw over you. It was warm from his body heat, soothing your mind with his familiar scent. He is finally safe with you, your mind kept telling you again and again.

Chanyeol kept wriggling next to you, until his side was pressed to yours, legs and arms aligning. You extended your arm for him to come even closer. He must have been touch starved, he was very much showing signs of it. You flickered through channels on the TV, desperately searching for some drama Chanyeol loved so dearly. The one you watched together last time has already finished, but some reruns would be good for now too.

“Let’s watch that,” Chanyeol said quietly at one point.

With the softly blinking lights from the TV, your eyelids got heavy again as you slowly stroked Chanyeol’s hair. Eventually, he put his head on your lap, long limbs stretching out on the little remaining space of the couch. You couldn’t see his face well, but you heard his breathing getting even and quiet, and after the first snore he let out, you allowed yourself to fall asleep.

It was still dark outside when you woke up. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what made you wake up. The TV was still flickering, the early news shows have already started. The anchor lady was talking about some petty theft case that’s been finally concluded after months of work on the police’s side. You didn’t really care, maybe if they were telling something about the hybrids, you would be glued to the screen.

Chanyeol was still sleeping on your lap, looking like haven’t moved all night, only his arms snaked around your waist. Even in his sleep he held you with a firm grip, hands fisted with the material of your shirt.

You picked up caressing his hair and his face eventually, wondering how your day should go. Shopping and arranging the furniture would take up all of your time, and you also wanted to squeeze in some cooking and working.

While you were lost in your thoughts, Chanyeol stirred. His eyelids slowly fluttered and opened, a sleepy smile instantly tugged on his lips. You returned it just as happily.

“Good morning, Chanyeol.”

“Good morning, Noona.”

“Did you sleep well? You look well rested.”

“Yes. I haven’t had any bad dreams, so it was good.”

“That’s good to hear! Soon you’ll have sweet dreams, too.”

Chanyeol looked a little unsure about your claim, but only shrugged. His eyes were big, almost begging you not to lie.

Things took a turn for the better, but it was such a slow progress, that if you wouldn’t pay attention to the little things slipping from Chanyeol’s mouth, you’d barely notice it day by day.

Half words about feeling safe. A lazy smile after a dreamless night or a nap. His innocent voice thanking you for the food you prepared. Afternoons spent together binge watching dramas. His body aligning with yours while you worked away on your laptop. The little things that showed things were going right.

There were also bad days. And even worse nights when he woke up from a nightmare, sobbing, crying, shaking endlessly, sometimes even screaming. To avoid the difficult night, he started to sleep with you more often and often. Being close to you gave him enough sense of comfort to sleep soundlessly. The promised sweet dreams only came after three months of sleeping with you.

You became used to Chanyeol being there in your room when you went to sleep. Him, looking up at you soft and sleepy from under the comforters. Every night, you went to sleep silently thanking Junmyeon, Baekhyun and Jongdae from the shelter for helping you go through with your plans. Because you wouldn’t have it any other way.

During weekends, you two went on walks around the city, always visiting a park, but you were being careful not to go near the area of your old apartment. Chanyeol was healing, he didn’t need his barely closed wounds to be ripped open again.

He even made a few friends in a nearby park. Kyungsoo, a cat hybrid and his owner, Minseok stole a place in Chanyeol’s heart. The other hybrid didn’t seem to be so fond of him and his over the place personality at first glance, but soon warmed up to him. Both you and Minseok noticed his soft expression when he thought none of you were paying attention. They became friends and regular visitors at your place, and the other way around.

Minseok was easy to talk to. Never asking too much, knowing when not to pry further into certain topics. A welcomed change after being holed up in your own world, surrounded with only work and Seoyun for so long.

The next snowfall came only in February, on a calm Saturday evening. You were already walking home. Chanyeol occasionally sniffing the air for a few hours now.

“It smells weird, Noona. So clear and fresh.”

“Do you like it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

His hand were engulfing yours while walking in silence. Chanyeol insisted holding your hand when he noticed you rubbing your fingers together, fighting against the cold. He always noticed everything when it came to you.

Chanyeol was still trying to find out why the air was so eerily fresh, and you were smiling on the inside. The weather forecast promised snowing for tonight, and you hoped it would happen before you arrive home from your little trip.

And hope was fulfilled. The first snowflake caught Chanyeol by surprise, quietly landed on his face as he was looking up at the white clouded sky, and melted immediately. He froze on spot, yanking your hand and making you stop too. His eyes grew big as the snow started to fall. White flakes landing without a pattern, first here and there, then a moment later it was everywhere. In only ten minutes there would be a white blanket laid on the city.

With bright and shining eyes Chanyeol looked at you, smiling so widely that his teeth were showing. He looked up at the sky again, watched the snow cover everything, then his eyes were on you.

“I like it, Noona, if it means it’s going to be snowing.”

He jerked your hand, making you almost trip and fall, but before any of that could happen, he catches you in his arms, hugging you tight. His breath was warm, chest rising and falling fast as he sniffed once more.

“You won’t miss the first snow with me again, Chanyeol,” you whispered to him almost shyly, and felt yourself blush as he let go of you.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Yeah, you thought as you continued walking home and Chanyeol kept looking at the sky, but never let go of your hand. You wouldn’t change anything about the past months if it meant you could see his smiles forever.

[naomiknight-17]

The Uber driver who took us home from the vet today ended up hearing all about Billi's situation because I couldn't stop crying and he asked what was wrong

(Dude you picked us up from the vet and we have an empty carrier take a wild guess)

And he told us he used to have a Labrador retriever, who was a very good and loyal dog, and when his dog died, he couldn't eat or sleep for three days due to the grief. Because of how painful it was, he'll never have a pet again

And he's not the first person I've met who feels that way. I have a close friend who, after losing two cats and a rabbit, decided she just didn't want pets anymore

And I get it, sort of. Losing Billi is the most painful thing I've been through in a long long time. But it's worth it for every moment of love and joy she brought us. It's worth it to know that we gave the best home we could to a cat who was difficult and otherwise unwanted.

I've always had a cat. My parents adopted their first cat when mom was pregnant with me. Dad named her after Scat Cat from the Aristocats. He probably didn't think that through. She was a grumpy girl but had her sweet moments. She lived to be 18. She was family. I got my first cat who was really mine, and not just the family cat, when I was around 11. Her name was Pooky, another name I had no choice in. Then there was Pepper and Lulu and Cookie and then Lulu had kittens and we kept Mackenzie then Maggie and Billi then finally our current cats; Pekoe, Leon and Tim

And each loss was devastating in its own way, but I cannot imagine my life without all these wonderful cats having been part of it. My mom's kitchen feels so empty now that Billi isn't there. A whole house without cats? I don't know how I could live in it

Our person-to-cat ratio is currently 4-3 and it feels wrong. There should be at least one cat per person. But I will wait and grieve and eventually the universe will send another cat my way. It always does.

[addysfandomdump]

You're looking a little tangled up there, Bolt!

Decided to fill out the questionare that’s been going around the @sonic-oc-showdown​​!

Name: Bolt the Cyber Cheetah

Species: Asiatic Cheetah (and also cyborg)

Type: Speed

Alignment: Neutral Good

Home: Sol Empire

The rest under the cut! 👇

✨ - How did you come up with the OC’s name? 

I didn’t! Bolt originally belonged to my partner Zed! He was a recolor/edit of one of those Sonic character bases you find on DeviantArt lol. He originally had, and still has, electricity powers-- he’s also related to Blaze, and 5th grade Zed wanted a B name, hence Bolt! He also tends to “bolt” off a lot, haha.

I’m the one who made him a cheetah, though. Bolt used to be just a regular old cat. But then I thought “hm, y’know for a series about a fast hedgehog, there is the striking lack of the cheetah rival” so I made him a cheetah! An Asiatic cheetah specifically, since Blaze is Indian-coded! The Asiatic cheetah is dying out :( There are only 12 Asiatic cheetahs left in the whole world as of writing this :(( It’s so sad :(((

(A cheetah in Iran. Source: Wikipedia)

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range) 

Bolt is 18 years old!

🌺 - Do they have any love interest(s)?

Yes! Bolt has a girlfriend named Chilli, who’s a Chocolate Labrador! They met in junior year high school and are T4T ❤ Don’t ask him how he scored, he doesn’t know either.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

I don’t know! Since he’s so anxious all the time, probably warm and filling foods, like soup! Since he’s 90% robot, though, he doesn’t really need to eat. He’s powered by his own electricity!

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Bolt does a variety of odd jobs to pay rent. He usually works as a living battery for a lot of people, though, restarting grids and charging people’s phones for a dollar.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Bolt has a lot of hobbies, usually ones that keep him calm. Visiting museums, going on long walks in nature, anything that handles weaving like crocheting or knitting or plush making... he made his jacket himself!

🎯 - What do they do best?

Worry. And cry.

🥊 - What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Bolt loves engaging in his hobbies and hanging out with his girlfriend, Chilli :)

Oh boy does he hate a lot of things. Many things stress him out. Watching a scary movie, trying something new, talking to people who aren’t his usual friend group, loud concerts, big crowds, whatever new adventure Blaze inadvertently drags him into this time, etc etc.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Going to see the stars with his girlfriend for the first time.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Getting kidnapped and roboticized, easy. And [SPOILERS FOR THE UNDEVELOPED AND UNRELEASED FANGAME SONIC RUSH: LIGHTNING SPEED].

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Nope! Bolt went through sooo many designs. I’m still figuring him out. Every new drawing of him looks different. I feel like I’m getting close, though!

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Zed wanted to make a cool elemental Sonic kitty ala Blaze. Then I basically took him and transformed him completely. At first he was gonna be another cocky Sonic rival, since I’ve always imagined a cheetah rival for Sonic, but then I was like “hmm, he has a lot of those already... not very unique...” and then I remembered @/thehydroxian-art-blog’s Jeff the Imperfect Shadow Android and though “Ah! I shall make him pathetic. And also a robot.” And thus the current version of Bolt was born!

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

A sci-fi action comedy film, for sure!

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Bolt is a trans man, he/him pronouns, bisexual. That yellow chestplate you see was originally a binder before it got welded into his body by the roboticization machine!

🙌 - How many siblings does your OC have?

None so far! He’s an only child! He does have his cousin, Blaze, though. Which technically makes him royalty. He doesn’t really live like royalty, though... or know that he’s royalty in the first place.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

They kinda just peaced out after Bolt graduated from high school. They weren’t particularly close with Bolt, and vice versa. They lowkey wanted nothing to do with him...

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

A decent amount! A member in a Sonic server I’m in asks all sorts of prompt questions about other people’s OCs and I love answering them! It’s really helped me develop not just Bolt, but my other OCs such as Faye Moreau, Seafoam the Sailfish, Charlotte Webb, Chaos Clown, Ms. Host, Cabinet Man, and even Kryztal!

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Nah, not really.

�� - Does your OC have any phobias?

Yes. Too many to list, though. He’s practically afraid of everything.

🍩 - Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Blaze is kiiinda his rival, but saying that is kind of a stretch. He’s an alright rival to Sonic when the hog visits, though.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

I don’t quite remember. A few months at least. Maybe even a year.

This one is something I came up with myself:

💥 - What are your OC’s powers, if they have any?

Bolt can channel and manipulate electricity! He can also shapeshift his mechanical body into various weapons like energy cannons, guns, and blades! His tail stretch out really far, and manifest temporary platforms!

Aaand that should do it! Hoo, that was a lot of questions! It was fun!!!

[treewithabark]

Alright let’s do an official introduction.

My name is Rae (she/her) and I’m 26 years old. I live in a Town in the Southwest of England and am very lucky to have lots of rural walks in my area!

This blog follows myself, my partner James, and our 2 year old husky x labrador, Juniper! We have plans to experiment with dog sports with Juno, as well as trick training, scent work, and general adventuring.

But this isn’t where my journey with dogs began, and not how this blog started! So let’s bring it back a bit…

I’ve loved dogs from as long as I can remember. My poor mother had to drill it into me from a young age to not run towards every dog I saw to touch it and ask their breed.

I begged for a dog for years. And we finally got one when I was around 9 or 10. A 4 year old Norwegian Elkhound called Otto. Rehomed to us through a breeder when his owner had a lifestyle change that wouldn’t accommodate him anymore.

I loved that dog so dearly well into my late teen years. And he is the main reason I have such a huge love of Spitz breeds.

When he passed I was devastated. And after a conversation later that week with my dad, we came to the realisation that the house felt wrong without a dog.

A few weeks later we brought home Hana, a two year old American Akita who became my first personally owned dog, and best friend.

Hana is the reason this blog came to be. As I, a fresh faced 18 year old, traversed the world of dog ownership and training. She taught me so much. My mind was changed so many times about different tools and training techniques. She challenged everything I thought I knew about dogs and training. She threw me on a huge curveball and I will never take that for granted.

This blog was originally hanatheakita, and you can still search our old posts by using the hashtags #hana or #hanecdotes

She passed in September 2022 after many years of companionship. And following a dogless depression, I picked up Juno from Dogstrust on December 30th 2022 with my partner.

And here we are! A new companion, a new journey, and I’m sure even more to learn!

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Story Summary: It's been ten years since Lucie LeMarche last set foot in New Orleans. But when she's forced to return to bury the woman who raised her, she finds herself pulled into the midst of rising supernatural tensions in the city. Entangled in a web of intrigue and seeking answers, Lucie must learn to navigate a powder keg of warring factions, family secrets, and old wounds if she hopes to survive.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Language, Death, Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Family Drama

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

Chapter 3: Mirror Images

Lucie lies low for the next couple of days, only leaving the sanctuary of her downtown hotel for necessities.

She’s not hiding. It’s what she tells herself, repeating it like a mantra until she believes it. Still, it’s all too easy to find an excuse to order takeout, to settle into the floral wallpapered confines of her second-floor room.

It’s been three nights since the encounter with Marcel and his posse -three nights since she found Jane-Anne dead- and she’s passed the time alternating between watching mindless television on the ancient, staticky set and staring out the window.

This morning, she’s engaged in the latter, watching people and cars buzz by with rapt interest. A woman weaves through sidewalk foot traffic, her heels high and her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She has two coffees stacked on top of the other and her cell phone is pressed between her shoulder and her ear. It’s a bold choice, but her stride is smooth and confident as she chatters to someone on the other line. She does not know that the city is crawling with vampires.

On the other side of the street, a man crouches down with a plastic baggy while he zips his windbreaker to his chin. The leashed Labrador flits between him and the nearest passerby, seeking pets, as his owner scoops his leavings off the sidewalk with a wrinkled nose. He could never imagine a coven of witches ruling the neighborhood.

She finds she’s jealous of him, of the woman, of every person who passes by on the way to complete mundane tasks in average lives and loved ones waiting at home. Right now, she’d give anything to trade places with any of them, if only for a day. Twenty-four hours in which the supernatural exists only in stories. 

A pickup rolls up to a stoplight, honking its horn at the sedan in front of it the second the light turns green, and Lucie imagines another life. One where she kicks off her shoes after another day in an office. In this universe, she’s greeted at the door by a dog and maybe even a partner. They smile at her and ask about her day over dinner and fall into bed together at night. And when she closes her eyes to rest before another average day, she feels safe. In this place, no one murders women to prove points and no one pushes children to embrace powers they don’t understand.

She presses her eyes closed, resting her forehead against the cool glass, and allows herself a few moments of indulgence. But before long, her thoughts stray back to the situation at hand. She runs it over in her mind, trying to make sense of it.

How could Marcel Gerard possibly know any time a witch practiced magic in the Quarter?

And, knowing the consequences, why would Jane-Anne risk her life?

No matter what angle she looks at it, she can’t seem to find any satisfying answers. All she can do is wonder what had happened here in her absence. She shakes her head, like her brain is an etch-a-sketch and the motion might wipe the slate clean. She moves to turn away from the window when she catches something out of the corner of her eye. Down on the closest street corner, a man stands with hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. His face is too shadowed to know for sure, but his head seems to tip up towards her, like he knows she sees him. 

The phone rings, vibration loud as a gunshot against the lacquered end table. She jolts as the device continues to ring, cutting over the sounds of traffic and the low garbled conversion of a TV infomercial. Stepping over a takeout box, she grabs the phone and glances at the screen.

Incoming Call: Arabella

Her finger hovers over the green button as the ringtone starts from the beginning again. A few seconds tick by as she stares at it, then a few more until finally it stops.

It had been only a week ago that Lucie had received Arabella’s late-night phone call. Seven days since she’d listened to her cousin tell her in a tearful, halting voice that the only mother she’d ever known was dead.

Truthfully, she isn’t sure why she’d been dodging her cousin’s phone calls, only that she’d spent all the time since that night in a state of emotional free fall. 

Phone still in hand, she glances over her shoulder and towards the window. Whoever she’d thought she’d seen, he’s gone now. It strikes her as odd. Despite being at the opposite end of the street when she’d first seen him, there’s no sign of him and she knows none of the nearby shops are open yet. It’s like he stepped off the curb and vanished. She concludes he was never there at all, just the light playing tricks on her exhausted mind. Then she drags a hand over her face and through her hair, which is far, far too greasy, even for her own company. Still, skin prickling with the sensation of unseen eyes on her, she jerks the curtains closed before she turns her back to the window. 

She pads the length of the room towards the adjoining bathroom. There isn’t much in the way of square footage and it doesn’t take her long to navigate the minefield of discarded styrofoam boxes, coffee cups, and stray clothes strewn haphazardly across the place; the impressive accomplishment of only a few days. In actuality, it’s not all that different from her norm. Replace the floral wallpaper with tacky stucco and scatter a few more bottles across the room with some past-due notices, and it could almost be a dead ringer for her apartment back in Albuquerque.

Lucie winces as her feet hit the cold linoleum and flicks the light switch, bathing the room in a sterile, white light that flickers overhead every couple of minutes. She blinks against the intrusion, adjusting to the brightness. Her reflection blinks back at her behind streaks in the mirror, eyes red and punctuated with deep smudges. 

Yeah, she looks like shit. 

It’s no real surprise, given the sluggish lifestyle of the last couple of days. But knowing is different from seeing it -or feeling it. She pulls at a lank strand of hair and winces before turning to start the shower. The sound of rushing droplets bounces off the tiles in a way that promises decent water pressure. Only after waving a hand under the flow to check the temperature, she undresses and slips in. The water is warm, beating a steady rhythm against the knotted muscles in her neck and back. It’s enough to make Lucie groan.

She reaches for the tiny bottle of hotel shampoo, lathering a generous amount between her palms and massaging it into her scalp. It’s like magic for her mood. The feeling lingers even as she turns the tap and wraps the towel around herself, still glowing with remnants of warmth. 

She steps out into the thick cloud of steam that permeates the confined space and drinks in the humidity with greedy breaths. She’s careful not to slip as she approaches the mirror, squeezing the excess water from her hair. A sheen of fog coats the glass, veiling everything but the sharper lines of her silhouette.

She reaches for her hairbrush, running the bristles through her hair, methodically untangling the more stubborn knots. The plastic handle clatters when she returns it to its home on the counter. When her eyes drift up to the still-steamy mirror, she goes still. 

But the reflection does not.

Instead, its blurred form seems to move on its own accord. Its arms extend, beckoning to her, and it squares the broad lines of its shoulder: the posture that is too long and too perfect to ever belong to her. 

The side of her hand catches the hairbrush, knocking it from the counter and onto the tiles with a clatter.

Against the speckled beige counter, her phone buzzes. She jumps, tearing her eyes away from the mirror and towards the source of the noise. Arabella’s name flashes across the screen again. This time, she only lets it ring twice before she answers, swiping up with clumsy fingers.

“Hello?” she says, breathless and uncertain, as if she didn’t already know who was on the other line.

“Lucie!” Her cousin’s warm voice sounds in her eye, contrasting with the impersonal neutrals of the bathroom. “You answered. I’ve been trying to catch you all week.” |

Arabella’s voice sounds shaky. It’s enough to make her feel guilty for dodging her calls. 

Lucie leans against the sink, the porcelain cool against her skin, and tries to soothe her thumping heart. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Is everything okay? You sound…off.” She doesn’t miss the edge of concern. “You’re not having nightmares again, are you?”

She barely catches the question, eyes trained on the foggy mirror. Absently, she raises a hand. The reflection follows suit.

“No, no.” She waves it off. ‘I’m just…it’s been a long week” “

The line goes quiet, but she knows her cousin is still there. She can feel her presence on the other end.

She nudges the damp towel she’d employed in lieu of a bath mat with her foot, encouraging it flat, and debates whether to tell her about the man in the suit or the mirror. She decides against it, chalking it all up to stress and lack of sleep. Instead, she asks what’s been on the back of her mind since she got the news of Violette’s death. 

“What happened, Bella? You never told me.”

“You never asked,” she replies softly. It’s not a rebuke, just a statement of fact. “Pneumonia. That’s what the doctor said.”

“Pneumonia,” she repeats. She doesn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. It’s underwhelming in a way, to imagine her formidable great-aunt put to rest by something so common. But she’d been an old woman for most of Lucie’s life and larger than life though she may have been, she was only mortal in the end. 

“Listen, Lucie. I know your default is to carry this alone, but don’t. We can do this together.” Arabella offers gently. Then adds, before she can protest, “Let’s grab coffee tomorrow. I’d love to see your face before the funeral.” 

She wants to argue, to turn her down on instinct. But she can feel the wide smile on the other line and, to be honest, she’s had more than enough being alone to last her a lifetime.

So she agrees and after settling on time and place, she hangs up the phone with trembling hands and glances at the mirror, now free of fog. Her reflection blinks back at her, pale and apprehensive.

____

Under a canopy of ageless trees, wedged between a tax office and a brewery, sits The Lazy Bean. Once a double-family shotgun, the pale orange coffee house now serves as a haunt for bleary-eyed commuters and hipsters looking to finish their screenplays. 

The shop is half full, energy winding down after the lunchtime rush, but she only spends a minute in line before the barista takes her order. 

She posts up against the far wall to wait. The interior is painted a sunny, chipped yellow, but it’s nearly impossible to tell; each wall is covered floor to ceiling in painted canvases and flyers advertising local events. And any spare corner or window sill has been repurposed into a home for a mishmosh of potted plants. In a strange way, it reminds her of the cluttered quiet of the Jardin Gris. 

The barista calls out her order. Sidestepping a young man in a fringed coat, she retrieves the steaming ceramic mug. It’s purple and, by the imprints along the handle, likely homemade. She murmurs her thanks and slips through clusters of tables and mismatched chairs.

Arabella is there, waiting, when she steps out onto the back patio. But she doesn’t see her right away. Lucie takes the opportunity to drink her in, unobserved. 

Seated at a corner table, she taps at her mug with pale, anxious fingers. She’d never been able to sit still. Even as a child, she’d always been twiddling her fingers or pulling a lock of copper hair. It’s darkened with age, she notes, eyeing the deep, rich auburn that spills over her shoulders. She worries at her lip with her teeth. There’s a pronunciation to her cheekbones and a wariness around her eyes that wasn’t there before, but otherwise little has changed. A smattering of freckles stretches across her nose and her round cheeks are flushed in the sun, the same as the girl she remembers. 

A surge of insecurity washes over her. after all, ten years is a very long time, especially spanning over that critical junction between adolescence and maturity. Lucie knows that for all she might look like her cousin, Arabella and her sixteen-year-old self might have little in common. She wonders what the woman tapping her foot under an oak might think of her wayward cousin. Will she like who she sees?

It’s enough to make her reconsider. She hasn’t been seen yet. There’s still time to leave before she-

“Lucie!” Arabella’s cheerful voice rings out, waving to catch her attention. Her pink lips curl in a smile that reveals the charming gap between her white teeth and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. Despite her uncertainties, Lucie’s smile widens at the sight of her.

The wooden planks groan beneath her boots as she makes her way to the table.

“Hey,” Lucie greets softly, sinking into the chair opposite her.

“Hey,” Arabella responds in kind, matching Lucie’s shy demeanor. “I was worried you wouldn’t show.”

Lucie hesitates before admitting, “I wasn’t going to.”

“But you did, and that’s what matters,” Arabella says, a hint of relief in her voice, as she sets down her tea and reaches across the table to squeeze Lucie’s hand. “It’s so good to see you, Luce. I can’t believe you’re here.”

If she had been worried about ill-will or uncomfortable reunions, there’s none to be had. Not from Arabella.

“It’s been good to see you too, Bella. You look great.”

“Thanks. And you look rough,” Arabella says, then quickly amends, “I mean, you look good, just tired.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, Lucie nods. “It's been tough, to say the least.”

Arabella offers a sympathetic hum, and the conversation lapses into a shared moment of grief. Lucie admires the way the dappled shade of an oak paints patterns across her freckled skin, and how the sun picks out strands of her hair in gilded orange. 

Eventually, Arabella breaks the silence. “She asked for you, you know - right at the end.”

Lucie doesn’t need to ask who she’s referring to. Violette’s presence is as corporeal as if she were occupying a chair beside them. Unsure of what to say, she takes a long sip of her drink, feeling the warm bitterness spread through her.

“Honestly,” Arabella continues, “I don’t think you were ever far from her thoughts. Sometimes, she’d get this faraway look in her eyes, and I just knew she was thinking about you.”

Lucie snorts softly. “You mean thinking about what a catastrophic failure I turned out to be?”

Her tone may be flippant, but the sentiment chafes. The second she had left the city limits, she might as well have been dead to Violette. She was sure every trace of her had been struck from the record with a methodical precision. If she had been so desolate in Lucie's absence, why hadn’t she ever called? 

“Oh, Lucie,” Arabella says, dismayed. “It’s not like that at all. You know that, right?”

“I don’t really know what to think anymore, Bella,” Lucie says, feeling the weight of her uncertainty.

“I know things are different,” Arabella reassures her, “but that doesn’t necessarily have to mean bad. It just means ‘different.’”

Lucie cants her head, acknowledging the truth in her cousin’s words. “I wouldn’t exactly call being shunned a positive.”

The constricting feeling in her chest belies her nonchalance. Even at a distance of ten years, the memory still stings. The absence of the connection throbs like a phantom limb.

“So you can’t tap into ancestral power, so what?” Arabella shrugs. “You still have your magic, and more importantly, you still have family.”

“Do I?” It’s a question she’d asked herself many times in those early days of exile. And as months stretched into years of near radio silence from all except the woman across from her, it was a foregone conclusion that the answer was a resounding: No.

Arabella insists, “Of course you do.”

Her optimism is unyielding, like looking into the sun. It clashes with the tender angst in Lucie's stomach. Feeling a flicker of irritation, she shifts in her seat. “I don’t think the coven is going to roll out the welcome mat.”

“They only just found out you’re here. Just give them time,” Arabella offers by way of explanation. “The Elders have been a little preoccupied lately. There’s a lot going on-”

“Like getting Jane-Anne’s body back from Marcel?” Lucie interjects.

Her cousin is taken aback. “I… How did you know?”

“I found her in the middle of Royal with her throat cut, Arabella,” Lucie says, something sharp seeping into her tone at the confirmation that she'd known too. “Something like that is hard to miss.”

“Shit,” Arabella curses softly. “I’m so sorry you had to find out like that. I was getting around to telling you, honest. But I wasn’t sure how to bring it up and I thought it would be kinder to drop the news gently.”

Lucie’s patience wears thin. “You know what would’ve been better? If you told me what was happening so I didn’t have to hear it from Marcel-fucking-Gerard.”

This time it’s her cousin’s turn to fidget in her seat. She passes the cup back and forth between her hands, chewing at her lip as she seems to be mustering up the right words. “It’s been hard around here for a while now. I need you to understand that before I tell you what I’m about to tell you.” |

She can’t help the involuntary flutter in her stomach. “Arabella, what are you-?”

“You have to promise me. Promise that you’ll keep an open mind,” she says in a shaky rush, “or I’m not going to say another word.”

“Okay, okay. I promise.”

She hesitates, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before she begins. 

“Since you’ve been away, things in the city have taken a turn. It started with small incidents - a shop in the Cauldron vandalized, a few witches harassed. But then it escalated rapidly. Nightwalkers began patrolling the streets, monitoring our every move and word. The safe areas for practicing magic shrank until all nine covens could only operate within five city blocks.”

“One night, the Elders convened at Greataunt Violette’s. They had a heated discussion behind locked doors. Violette stormed out, pretty upset. When she came back, she told Viv and I that the Elders had reached a decision.”

Arabella pauses, her cup nearly empty, prompting Lucie to inquire further. “What decision?”

“To proceed with the Harvest Ritual.”

Lucie’s world spins at the revelation. “The Harvest Ritual,” she repeats, her voice flat.

“Our powers were diminishing, and it had been centuries since the last Harvest. We needed to renew our bond with the Ancestors,” Arabella explains.

“I know how it works,” Lucie snaps, immediately regretting her tone.

Arabella continues, undeterred. “Four girls were chosen: Abby, Cassie, Davina, and… Monique.”

Lucie feels sick. “Monique Deveraux?”

Arabella nods solemnly. “Yes.”

“What happened?” Lucie demands, gears turning. “Tell me everything you know.”

And she tells her. She tells her about how the Elders showered the chosen girls in honors and praises; she tells her about how they were marched like lambs to the slaughter, expecting a prick on the thumb up until the moment Bastiana slit Abigail’s throat. And finally, she tells her about Marcel Gerard’s intervention and his swift, furious retribution upon the witches of New Orleans for what they’d done. 

Lucie doesn’t speak for the duration of her story, only listens as Arabella tells it in faltering pieces. 

By the time she finishes, hands shaking and eyes weary, the sun is beginning its descent into the west. The diminishing rays cast the patio in streaks of gold and orange that fall across Arabella’s face as Lucie watches her.

“Lucie, say something. Please,” she says when the weight of the silence becomes unbearable. 

Lucie’s arms instinctively wrap around her chest. “What do you want me to say, Bella?”

Arabella’s voice trembles, thick with emotion. “I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

Lucie’s hand cards through her hair in a futile attempt to find the right words. “I...,” she struggles, the words slipping through her grasp. Finally, she manages, “I need to go.”

The chair protests against the patio as she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Where?” Arabella says with a note of desperation.

“I don’t know,” Lucie admits, her head shaking in numb disbelief. “I just... I need some time to think.”

Arabella’s expression wavers between concern and resignation as she nods in reluctant acceptance and Lucie disappears down the street.

[daisy-has-too-many-wives]

all practically ran from teh door, yelling rushed thank you’s at him. Crowley laughed, laving enjoyed that class, as for more than half of it, Him and his year 13’s were having a discussion on what they though angels would look like to be able to survive as high up as they suppossedly did. They had all decided on very large oxygen tanks. Crowley made his way through the courtyard of the school, pausing at the staffroom for Pepper, who he was taking out for lunch, just like they did every second wednesday. “Crowley!” pepper said, as she walked alongside him “Are you coming to Samaels with Adam and i?” Crowely groaned, running a hand through his long hair, “ugh- is hastur going?” “Nope” pepper replied, sitting herslf down in the passenger seat of crowley’s car. “I guess i am going then, arn’t i” Pepper nodded, resting her feet on the dashboard “where to today, anthony?” The two decided on a classic. A small cafe, unbeknownst to almost all of the civilians, named ‘Apple and Serpent’ Crowley ordered his usual, a large black coffee, and pepper ordered a milkshake. “You’re a child”  crowley laughed as their waiter brang the order to tehir table “At least i  have good taste. Who drinks a black coffee at 1 in the afternoon?” “Me, that’s who you cheeky-” “Laungage!” pepper snorted, “so- mr ‘ive got such a good coffee selection-” (crowley rolled his eyes at her. Hard. she just smirked.) “what do you think of the new teacher at sameals?” “What do i think of him?” crowley asked, raising an eyebrow “pepper, i havent even met this man” “He is your type though” “How do you know my type? I dont even have a type, pepper” “Yes-yes you do” she told him “you are the classic Black cat. You eiether need a golden reteiver or an orange cat” “Are- pepper are you telling me you want me to buy another pet? I have 2 dogs alr-” Pepper groaned, loudly “you need to- my god anthony you are a boomer” “Augh” he said, faking offence “i am Not I thank you very much,  i was born in 1990!” “Old” Crowley rolled his eyes again “why do i need a labrador and a hamster?” “You are deaf as well, then” “Why, pepper, enlighten me” A black cat, pepper explained to him, as tehy left the cafe, adn on their drive back to school, was someone who kept to themselevs, was a ‘loner’ and typically wore black clothing. Crowley saw how that waas him. A golden retreiver, was ‘the happiest person in the world’ pepper said. ‘Always happy, always active, optimist’ crowley definetly wass not that. And apparently a orange cat was just a pshyco. Pepper told him, that poeple online often ship what’s called a black cat x golden retrevier, where one person is ‘goth’ and the other is ‘very cheery’; and what not. Crowley was impartial to this idea, not really ahving tha much of an opinion on it, since the only relationship he had ever been in was with someone he didnt even know what happened to them. And that was when he was 18, and just figuring out that he was gay, genderfluid and wanted to be a teacher, not an artist. Once the school day had finally come to an end, crowley dragged himself home, and changed into his work clothes, a plain black shirt and pants. Yes, he had a part time job, but he felt he needed to support his neice Angel as she started law school as sa favour for his older sister, Daisy who had helped him more time than he could count. So, crowley had become a chef. He had worked up his ranks, and was now head chef at a local sushi restaurant ‘家’ or ‘Home’ in english. And sometimes, he worked the till if business was slow.  Luckily, the sushi place was moderately busy on teh best days, so most of the time it was him talking with his colleagues and teh regulars. His coworker, Abby, was the only otehr one on tonight as the shop was slow, and they both had the late night shift. The bell tinkled as their last scheduled regular entered to shop “hey azira” crowley said, from behind the till. Their regular, and crowley’s favourite, Mr. Azira fell entered the shop, wearing the same matching beige waistcoat suit and brown shoes that he wore day in, day out

I LOVE THIS AAAA

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2022: #10 - #6

10. UNITED KINGDOM Sam Ryder - “SPACE MAN 2nd place

Decade rank: 18/79 [above Last dance, below Je me casse]

UP IN SPACE MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN

There are moments I forget Sam Ryder and Space Man are real things that happened. A good song representing Union Jack colours, by an influencer who looks like a labrador superimposed onto the face of Janice the muppet through deepfake software. Are we sure this was not a fever dream? 😳 Are we sure this is the BBC ? 

So uh yeah, the UK had a pretty good entry last year. 🙂 At last, a British hopeful who isn’t embarrassing right out of the gate and could unironically be described as enjoyable. If The UK were winning a jury vote any year, then 2022 was that golden opportunity.

The crazy part is that they did AND it felt earned? “Space Man” is so unequivocally British-sounding. The score effortlessly conjures up that unique Brit-rock vibe that we know from Queen, David Bowie, the Beatles, and turns it into something that sounds like a clarion of triumph thundering gloriously over the Turin 2022′s remaining proceedings.

I feel like Space Man’s inherent sense of achievement and of victory - despite the lyrics dealing with the dark side of success and the return to the simple life - (you know i love a clever lyrical contradition) made so many people flock to it. There WAS some lameness to be found (”searched around the universe / been down some black holes” did the songwriters look at grindr bio’s for their material?) but overall Space Man stood up as the rare Good UK entry.

So if you have all that empowerment jazz in your song, you need a good act to bring it out? Fortunately, the BBC for once did well there too. As soon as I saw they had built a spacecraft out of scaffholding (clever lateral staging btw), had stuffed in Ryder into a swarovski-studded leotard and forced him to perform a cheesy guitar solo I knew. I knew they had managed to summon the spirit of Ziggy Stardust to bless Ryder with winnerness and that he would steer his rebar rocket into a top finish. And so he did. 

Now, as for my reservations because I have a few

One, Ryder. Yes, Ryder had the best vocal out of anyone this year, period. I have no doubts he’s a genial young man too. Cool if you care about these things. I however do not, because I don’t find him charismatic. 🙂 First of all, he does fucking look like a deepfake what the hell is up with that? Secondly, the adlibs. Normally I like it when contestants go full ham but here I find it irritating. Space man is good and doesn’t fucking need embellishment. Therefore the adlibs must be some kneejerk instinct Ryder inherited from his influencer days, which ew. The BBC have taken Ryder out of the TikTok but they have not managed to take TikTok out of the Ryder. 

Two, The Social Media Craze. You already know I feel about that stuff and how it interacts with Eurovision, although I mind it not so much here - Space Man came fifth in the televote and not first (and thankfully, also not seventeenth), and was also adopted by the radio stations ahead of its viralness. Also Space Man went less viral than Snap. Its popularity was a natural evolution.  All of these things are preferable when you’re solidly into “Good Not Great” territory. 🙂 Still, any mileage derived from braindead spyware apps is a sin on principle, so ::ding:: 

Three, Irrespective of anything else I’ve written above, I’ve always solidly liked, but never fully loved Space Man. This applies to both the song and its staging. I don’t mind that it got second, but it did beat better entries while doing so. Eleven months later I still feel that way, and as we go forward in this ranking, it has to leave within this update. If I have to choose who to rank higher between an annoying influencer with a good song and a bunch of lovable randoms with clown fiesta music, the randoms always win! 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

09. IRELAND Brooke - “That’s rich” 34th place

Decade Rank: 16/79 [Above Destiny, below Natalia Gordienko]

NO TITLE SCREEN?! ROBBED!!!! RIGGED!!!

God I wanted it for Brooke, I really, REALLY wanted it! In the same vein as Ryder, finally an entrant for Ireland that isn’t a walking cringe, or a dead on arrival lamus or an offensive sap. Finally an Irish entry that isn’t fucking HOPELESS. (um ignore that I believed in Maps until it crashlanded into last place lol)

But of course, less hopeless than the average Irish entry only meant "another solid NQ, just not in last place this time”. lol. 😥 

I greatly enjoyed Brooke though. Here’s yet another flawlessly flawed combination of song and singer, united in holy floptrimony. “That’s rich” is a trash baby of the finest camp qualité, and at least half of its sassy vernacular belongs in an Almanac for All Time Eurovision lyrics. LOSER LOSE YOUR ATTITUDE I’M DOING GOOD YEAH THAT’S ON ME and BYE BYE FOOL are and will forever be a part of my brain-to-post jargon from this Brooke onwards. Me and the friends even conjured up a French version called “C’est Riche” which is the ultimate high honour you can get, as I’m sure you’ll agree.

The way Brooke and That’s Rich synergize together spoke to me. The song is very sassy and feisty and playful, whereas the singer is kind of... a dorky shrew (<3). Reminder that Brooke is a friend to all Spanish Customs Officers and dedicated enough towards maintaining that friendship to greet her Italian audiences with  “OLÉ OLÉ OLÉ” . She went ALL IN on channelling ALL the emotions during her live performance. Unlike Ryder’s, Brooke’s adlibs felt genuine enough to adore. Let the GIF reel commence: ´

É, CRETIN

C’EST RICHE, J’EN AI EU ASSEZ DE VOUS

C’EST RICHE, T’AS UNE AIRE DE CLOUN

C’EST RICHE; TU N'AS QU’AUCUN CLOU

DONC C’EEEEEEEST RIIIIICHE

VA T’EN, CON 🙂

Ryder dead in a ditch. Brooke broke from her betadom to live the ALPHA LYFE on that stage and based on merit, I thought she had it. Yet almost nobody (of relevance) cared?! How? Well ok I know why (it’s eurotrash <3) but honestly how difficult was it to just penalize all the cheaters on the spot? I guess garbage like Fade to Black and River absolutely DESERVED those algoritm points!!! In the end, I can accept this outcome because WRS also served edible fun and I sorta nibbled, but Europe denied us a feisty feast here! Another year were Ireland deserved better! WILL IT EVER END?!

--------------------------------------------------------------

08. AUSTRIA Lum!x ft. Pia Maria - “Halo” 36th place

Decade rank: 14/79 [Above Natalia Gordienko, below Senhit]

LEMME BE YOUR HAY-LA HOOOOOOOOOOOOO

There you have it. This year’s best non-qualifier. And its journey was through Eurovisionland was WILD. 😍

Where to start? Like always and more pressingly than usual, at the selection.  Imagine waking up to Austria declaring that a 20 year old Gabry Ponte protégé with no solo experience will be their rep, accompanied by something or someone called “Pia Maria”, a name that gave you zero hits if you put it through google or spotify. So of course me and the gang instantly started spec’ing whether “Pya Mariyah”  was a huge untapped talent discovered through chance by Lum!x (not implausable! Janet Grogan is, after all, a better vocalist than Adele), a highly advanced neural net or Philipp Kirkorov in disguise.

Then “Halo” was released, and it doled out BpM at a faster pace than most nightcores and had an absolute word casserole for lyrics. 😍 “Philosophers like Socrates go find something to get on your feet. Go sharpen your teeth” lmfao what?! 

 And like that, the journey dove head-first into hilarious absurdity. WHAT IS THIS ENTRY?! This was chosen by the SAME people that bored us with Cesár Sampson and Vincent KinderBueno? HOW did ORF land on Pia Maria? Where did they find her? Did they select her via a raffle, or was she in the room when Lumix realized he needed a vocalist? Was she a random they snagged off the streets? Is she someone’s secret nepobaby? It honestly fries my brain that this was deemed a serious attempt at a qualifying entry by the fandom.

So yeah the second they had set a foot in PalaOlimpico,  Pia and Luca immediately immolated themselves to death in a blaze of chaotic neutral. I hope everyone saw this coming because I sure did and relished every nanosecond of it. Pia became winded approximately 40 seconds into the performance and spent the rest of the performance running a losing race against her vital capacity.

Luca meanwhile, oh man. Pia gets a bad wrap for her vocals, and she was Not Very Good, but like what do you expect from a newbie cajoled into performing a litany of jibberish. What really took “Hayla Ho” on a ride down Hysteria Lane for me were Luca’s jubilant adlibs juxtaposed to Pia’s visible failure. Every time Pia missed a note she at least looked a bit disappointed with herself. Luca went on a fucking runner’s high with every passing beat, blissfully unaware to the hellscape forming itself around him and Pia.

He absolutely CANNOT contain himself. 😍 So much so that his voice cracks THREE SECONDS INTO HALO. 😍 The true insane asylum heights of fusedmarc were never reached, but they came sorta close.

So yeah, like That’s Rich, Halo was instantly ironic eurotrash. Unlike That’s Rich, I not once thought Halo would do well lmfao. How could anyone think that?! Its entire purpose at Eurovision was to be a great and memorable trainwreck. They passed with flying colours <3

Oh and as all great morality tales go, this one ends with Pia deleting Luca off her social media mere hours after the live performance, having accomplished her goal of getting a three-week free holiday 😍  If that doesn’t cement her as the most relatable neural net of this decade, then idk what will. 

K and now for a MASSIVE leap in quality: 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

07. THE NETHERLANDS S10 - “De diepte” 11th place

Decade rank: 11/79 [above Manizha, below TBA]

🦉😂 -- S10, me.

Yep, above Manizha who was top five for me in 2021. 2022 is strangely top-heavy, where the good entries are all GREAT and the rest of the contest simply doesn’t exist. 

So yeah, time to discuss a few Real Songs before the final countdown. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Eurovision is a music contest. This selectful forgetfulness is achieved when great music fails to reach the top 10! 🙄 And people wonder why juries are important. Forget the Die Togethers and Fade to Blacks of this world - THIS is sort of interpretation juries ought to reward. 

Anyway, “De diepte” is kind of my jam and you may think this would make the write-up easier and you’re so so so wrong. Stien dwells deeply (ahem) in that Victoria zone where the quality is so obvious it renders further words redundant. WHICH IS PERSONAL RANKER HELL!!! 

 “De diepte” is not some dreck-wreck featuring several layers of mass hysteria (some of which only exist in my head <3) that I get to describe in various degrees of colourful language. "De diepte” is a song. A real song. It’s emotionally layered, intelligent, well structured and easy to listen to on repeat, and I have for several hours total. The moment RIGHT after the big note, when S10 looks almost overwhelmed with emotion and is about to cry man, I Felt That. I Felt it in my core, in my bones, in my soul. I’m not made of concrete. The contrast with Botmanda couldn’t be greater:

Now as far as my random things I specifically loved about S10 go, they include: her nom-de-plume which caused several people (including Matt 🥴) to pronounce her name as “Season Ten”, the fact that AVROTROS wanted to push a song in Dutch and then came up with a chorus that can mostly be summarized by two emojis, and of course this:

It’s not quite the Tinkara sorcery, but the intent is there, and I appreciate it. 

Other than that, “De diepte” is a very good showcase of Dutch indiepop, which -living 30 km from the NL border- is a genre I know very well and fucking love. It’s what I would call A Real Song, a song that actually speaks to people and has legs outside of the contest. It’s defo something I would listen to during the off-season when i’m detoxing from ESC if it had not been ESC itself.

However, I have to also put my Big Ranker’s Pants on and make my Big Ranker decisions: When picking who I rank ahead of other entries I like roughly the same, I need to assess the contest. 2022 was light on europulp spectacle and heavy on the”“Good Musical Quality” type of entry. So in a sense, I feel like i need to prioritize spectacle over song to a certain degree. Or at least those I am able to praise with more profound terms than “this is very good, not a top 10, REALLY, Europe?”.

And on that note~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

06. PORTUGAL MARO - “Saudade, saudade” 9th Place

Decade rank: 10/79 [Above S10, below TBA]

Ok so, S10, Maro and the 5th placer are basically three acts I like equally much, and they’re ranked based on how much I can talk about :-) 

THOSE ARE THE RANKER’S RULES, SORRY! Speaking of things that rule, I present Maro: a woman who forgot to stage her song in the semi of FdC because she assumed nobody would like her and then won the final in an overwhelming landslide <3 

and for good reason because “Saudade Saudade” is berry gud. Like “De diepte” i feel like its appeal is just very obvious? It’s clever, it’s emotional, it’s very well performed. It is one of those songs that would find their way to an audience even without the exposure of the Eurovision Song Contest.

That said, Maro *very* narrowly edges out S10 for me for a handful of reasons. First off, while beam sorcery is a nice staging trick, I do find the circle of wymyn powah a slightly stronger visual representation. It creates some interaction on the stage,which translates to spectacle, which translates to good television. 

Secondly, the vocals: Systur’s harmonies were already outstanding. Maro and her backings are even better. Maro’s own hoarse vocals holy heck. t’s difficult to fully engage into praise because Cornelia exists and we’ll get there in the next post, but talk about a song whose rawness came alive through sheer vocal timbre. Anyone who can sing is able pull off a “De diepte”. The list of people that are capable of doing a “Saudade Saudade” is very short.

Thirdly, both songs deal with break-ups and letting go, but I find Maro’s methods more wholesome.  “Saudade, Saudade” is literally an attempt at unspooling raw thoughts being put into little word blankets, and coming to the realization that the best memories and strongest emotions cannot be turned into lyrics. They exist in the heart. And that I can feel.

Ok some other little details here include Maro recruiting her former rivals Ginger Ale Lady and Woman’s Corpse Lady into her backing cabal, the fact that her fucking insta handle is or was @ItsAMeMARO and her growing disbelief that people really *truly* liked her as much as they did, and you know you have a pretty awesome contestant on your hands. Maro feels humble in a genuine and endearing way that you rarely see in Eurovision where most contestants are inexperienced, ambitious or huge fans. 

Overall though, Maro runs into the same ranker curse as S10. There just isn’t much to discuss beyond the music, and the music is really darn good. Still, it’s a very positive sign that the juries recognized that by giving her 5th place (without a single 12? lol?) and countered her bad position in the R/O. In the full picture she falls a bit short for me though. 🤷‍♀️

CONGRATULATIONS TOP FIVE!!!

WHO. WILL. WIN?!

[camp-cretaceous-posts]

I got all the jurassic world evolution memos underneath the cut 

-------{{TRUST ISSUES [1/2]}}-------

Participants: Claire Dearing, Ian Malcolm;

[10:07] Claire Dearing:

- Dr. Malcolm?

[10:07] Ian Malcolm:

- Mrs. Dearing, this is quite the pleasure.

[10:08] Claire Dearing:

- I have an extremely confidential issue I'd like to discuss.

[10:08] Ian Malcolm:

- We share so much in common, you and I, having both escaped the islands, and yet we're still somehow still involved with them.

- And besides, I'm intrigued to know the nature of this conversation.

- Discretion is a trait not often associated with me, but for you... I'll make an exception.

- Do go on.

[10:10] Claire Dearing:

- The Foundation just brought in someone new to oversee development of the islands.

[10:10] Ian Malcolm:

- I'm aware, we've been in touch.

[10:11] Claire Dearing:

- That's why I'm reaching out to you, Doctor.

- I'd like you to keep an eye on them.

-------{{VEILED THREAT}}-------

Participants: Henry Wu, Ian Malcolm;

[15:22] Henry Wu:

- Dr. Malcolm.

- Rumour has it that you and this new curator are working some sort of side deal...

[15;22] Ian Malcolm:

- And a good afternoon to you too, Dr. Wu.

[15:22] Henry Wu:

- Is it true?

[15:24] Ian Malcolm:

- Given the right set of circumstances, anything can be true.

- Time and perspective are key variables.

[15:24] Henry Wu:

- That's not a denial.

[15:25] Ian Malcolm:

- On that, you would be correct. Neither is it confirmation.

[15:26] Henry Wu:

- We are both survivors, Dr. Malcolm. But that status doesn't last forever.

- And it can change at any moment.

-------{{MAKING THE IMPOSSIBLE, POSSIBLE}}-------

Participants: Kajal Dua, Ian Malcolm;

[18:42] Kajal Dua:

- Dr. Malcolm.

[18:43] Ian Malcolm:

- Dr. Dua, to what do I owe this honour?

[18:43] Kajal Dua:

- You don't hide your sarcasm very well, Dr. Malcolm.

[18:43] Ian Malcolm:

- Yeah... I wasn't trying.

[18:44] Kajal Dua:

- I know you've questioned my methods in the past, but with this new Director of Operations involved, I've been making good progress on stabilizing my research.

- Whatever you're doing to help them, it's working.

[18:45] Ian Malcolm:

- Which means even more dinosaurs are joining the modern world?

[18:46] Kajal Dua:

- Returning to it, yes.

[18:47] Ian Malcolm:

- Ah, what was once unimaginable has now become possible.

-------{{LISTEN CAREFULLY}}-------

Participants: Ian Malcolm, Owen Grady;

[22:04] Ian Malcolm:

- And Claire told you this?

[22:05] Owen Grady:

- She suspects that Dr. Wu's team is trying to create some weaponized hybrid.

- A hyper-hybrid.

[22:06] Ian Malcolm:

- Why should this concern you, Owen?

- Did you not think that your domestication program was anything more than the first step toward something more... kinetic with the dinosaurs?

[22:07] Owen Grady:

- Look, I know that these animals can be trained. I understand them. You just have to know how to listen.

[22:07] Ian Malcolm:

- It took thirty thousand years of evolution to turn the wolf into the Labrador.

[22:08] Owen Grady:

- So you're saying you won't help?

[22:08] Ian Malcolm:

- I'm saying I'll keep an eye on Dr. Wu.

[22:08] Owen Grady:

- Really? Didn't sound like it.

[22:08] Ian Malcolm:

- Maybe you just have to know how to listen.

-------{{MULTIPLE INCIDENTS}}-------

Participants: George Lambert, Ian Malcolm;

[09:33] George Lambert:

- There have been incidents.

- Multiple incidents.

- And you can assure me that this new Director of Operations isn't involved?

[09:34] Ian Malcolm: 

- To the best of my knowledge.

[09:34] George Lambert:

- And how good is that?

[09:35] Ian Malcolm:

- Better than most.

- Much better actually.

- Isn't sabotage always an on-going concern on the islands?

[09:36] George Lambert:

- Outside threats I can deal with. It's the ones from the inside that worry me.

-------{{MISSING SCIENTISTS [1/2]}}-------

Participants: Kajal Dua, Ian Malcolm;

[14:22] Kajal Dua:

- Dr. Malcolm, we have another incident. I've had two scientists go missing. They've been gone two days now, I believe.

- Lambert went searching for them.

- They'll turn up, eventually.

- One way or the other.

[14:23] Ian Malcolm:

- Yes... the other. I can see how upset you are about this...

[14:24] Kajal Dua:

- Look, everyone here understands that there are certain dangers associated with our work.

[14:24] Ian Malcolm:

- But these scientists weren't working for you, were they?

[14:24] Kajal Dua:

- We are all part of a team...

-------{{THE WATCHER}}-------

Participants: Ian Malcolm, Cabot Finch;

[12:57] Ian Malcolm:

- I don't control them, Cabot. I only offer advice.

[13:01] Cabot Finch:

- So your new charge isn't spying on me, then?

[13:01] Ian Malcolm:

- Far as I can tell, you've been watching them.

[13:02] Cabot Finch:

- I watch everyone.

-------{{A BROKEN SEAL}}-------

Participants: George Lambert, Ian Malcolm;

[15:46] George Lambert:

- It was Dr. Wu. And as far as I can tell, Dr. Dua. They've been hatching this plan for a while.

[15:46] Ian Malcolm:

- Hatching... yes. The, uh, perfect way to describe it.

[15:47] George Lambert:

- That hybrid is too dangerous to be anywhere other than the islands.

[15:48] Ian Malcolm:

- And it's too dangerous for the islands as well.

[15:50] George Lambert:

- So what do we do?

[15:52] Ian Malcolm:

- We wait.

- It is only a matter of time until it bites the hand that feeds it.

- Then we will know where to look.

-------{{HYBRID RESURGENCE}}-------

Participants: Claire Dearing, Ian Malcolm;

[09:42] Claire Dearing:

- Are you seeing this?

- Did you know about this?

[09:42] Ian Malcolm:

- I'm going to, need a little help here...

[09:43] Claire Dearing:

- The research into hybrids. It's happening again.

[09:43] Ian Malcolm:

- Okay.

[09:43] Claire Dearing:

- Okay?

- It's not okay, Malcolm.

[09:44] Ian Malcolm:

- I was acknowledging that I'm aware of the program. Not that I approve.

- Which, I don't have the power to do anyway.

- Nor would I want it.

[09:44] Claire Dearing:

- But this new Director of Operations you've been counselling, they're part of this research.

[09:45] Ian Malcolm:

- The security Division has always been a bit of a misnomer, if you will. We all know what they're really interested in.

- Pretending to be naive isn't your strong suit, Claire.

[09:45] Claire Dearing:

- As always, it's the blind leading the blind.

[09:46] Ian Malcolm:

- Correction. It's the blinded by ambition leading the blinded by greed.

- Present company excluded, of course.

-------{{WHERE IT ALL BEGAN}}-------

Participants: Ian Malcolm, Isaac Clement;

[16:22] Ian Malcolm:

- You are really doing it, aren't you?

[16:23] Isaac Clement:

- People are hungry for nostalgia.

[16:23] Ian Malcolm:

- Hungry, yes.

- Interesting.

- Appropriate.

[16:24] Isaac Clement:

- Hey, maybe this could be part of our marketing campaign.

- "Are you hungry for the past?"

[16:24] Ian Malcolm:

- Oh, I wish you wouldn't.

[16:25] Isaac Clement:

- Too soon, huh?

[16:26] Ian Malcolm:

- No, it's just, well... on Isla Nublar, the past is hungry for you.

-------{{ON SCHEDULE}}-------

Participants: Kajal Dua, Henry Wu;

[11:25] Kajal Dua:

- Things are proceeding as scheduled. This new Director of Operations seems to be on task.

[11:28] Henry Wu:

- That's good to hear.

- I'd say we are less than ten years ahead of the competition, and we're losing that advantage faster than I'd like.

[11:29] Kajal Dua:

- Then stable hybrids are the best shot we have to remain on top.

[11:29] Henry Wu:

- Correct. I've heard rumours a revitalised Biosyn has some significant investors behind it.

[11:30] Kajal Dua:

- That's concerning.

[11:30] Henry Wu:

- Maybe. Or maybe we need to find out how much they'd be willing to pay to get back in the game.

-------{{A CLOSE BOND}}-------

Participants: Ian Malcolm, Owen Grady;

[21:33] Ian Malcolm:

- You know I don't get involved with corporate politics.

- It's too chaotic.

[21:33] Owen Grady:

- I'm not worried about me, Malcolm.

- I'm a survivor.

[21:35] Ian Malcolm:

- Something I allow myself to also take some pride in.

[21:36] Owen Grady:

- It's her.

[21:36] Ian Malcolm:

- Claire?

[21:36] Owen Grady:

- Blue.

[21:37] Ian Malcolm:

- Oh. Yes, of course.

[21:37] Owen Grady:

- Masrani Global had a plan.

- And it didn't die with Simon.

[21:38] Ian Malcolm:

- Man is mortal.

- Ideas can last forever.

[21:38] Owen Grady:

- Blue's basically the apex of the apex now.

- And with Ingen needing new sources of income, they're going to try creating a lot more of her.

- That's my guess anyway.

[21:39] Ian Malcolm:

- You're worried that they'll take her away from you?

[21:39] Owen Grady:

- She doesn't belong to me.

- But, yes.

[21:40] Ian Malcolm:

- Owen, you realise that what you and Blue have, however you want to define it, is unnatural, right?

- This is a relationship that shouldn't exist.

[21:40] Owen Grady:

- So you're siding with them?

[21:41] Ian Malcolm:

- No, I'm on the fence.

[21:41] Owen Grady:

- Malcolm, you and I both know from personal experience that fences don't last forever.

-------{{INTERNAL CONCERNS}}-------

Participants: George Lambert, Ian Malcolm;

[11:13] George Lambert:

- As crazy as it sounds, I'm convinced that some of this sabotage is being perpetrated by in-house actors.

[11:15] Ian Malcolm:

- Doesn't sound that crazy to me.

[11:16] George Lambert:

- Yeah, maybe.

- It's happened before.

[11:17] Ian Malcolm:

- That's, not a question, is it?

- Because, yes, it has.

[11:17] George Lambert:

- Why?

[11:18] Ian Malcolm:

- Motive and opportunity.

- And passion.

- Oh, and one other thing... the new Director of Operations.

- They're proving things can be done differently.

- Success, can be threatening to certain individuals.

[11:18] George Lambert:

- That sounds like something Hammond would say.

[11:19] Ian Malcolm:

- Hmm... yes, it does.

- And as much as I disagreed with the man, I'll take it as a compliment.

-------{{TRUST ISSUES [2/2]}}-------

Participants: Ian Malcolm, Claire Dearing;

[10:11] Ian Malcolm:

- Trust issues, is it now?

[10:11] Claire Dearing:

- Now and always.

- You know my concern is the well-being of the dinosaurs.

- Those animals have rights that need to be protected.

[10:11] Ian Malcolm:

- Rights, Ms. Dearing?

- These animals shouldn't even be, well, anything.

[10:12] Claire Dearing:

- Chaos theory says otherwise, doesn't it, Doctor?

[10:12] Ian Malcolm:

- Ah... perhaps you've been paying attention to my reports after all.

[10:12] Claire Dearing:

- Look, we both care about the same things.

[10:12] Ian Malcolm:

- Do we?

[10:13] Claire Dearing:

- Yes. I believe we do. In fact, I know we do.

- And someone is up to something on the islands.

- What and why is my interest here.

- Maybe this new person is the problem. Or maybe they can help us idenitfy who is.

[10:14] Ian Malcolm:

- Well, if the problem is me, then this whole plan... scheme... of yours has already failed.

[10:15] Claire Dearing:

- Well... has it?

[10:16] Ian Malcolm:

- No.

[10:17] Claire Dearing:

- Good. I'll be in touch again.

- Soon.

-------{{MISSING SCIENTISTS [2/2]}}-------

Participants: Ian Malcolm, Kajal Dua;

[14:25] Ian Malcolm:

- A team, yes. You and Dr. Wu. History repeating itself. I've seen this all before.

- First, the disappearances.

- Then the hunting...

[14:25] Kajal Dua:

- Look, if... and that's a big if... if Dr. Wu created a new hybrid, your Director of Operations helped him. So we're all in this together.

[14:25] Ian Malcolm:

- And then comes the running.

- And the biting.

- And the dying.

[lost-spoons]

So I'm thinking about getting a service dog for cardiac alert and a few mobility tasks to help with my POTS and HEDS. However, there are a few things in the way of me being able to get a service dog.

1. My sperm donor will not let me get a dog while I live under his roof. My mother brought up the fact that service dogs can be trained for POTS and my father acknowledged that and said there will be no dogs in his house. So until I move out, which isn't for another 3 years minimum, I can't get a service dog

2. I don't have the money for a program service dog. I don't have a job that can bring in money, because I can't work in most jobs that take high schoolers. Most days I can barely make it through school. I'm apparently a liability in the work field and won't be able to work on anything more then a stay a home online type job. My parental unit has agreed to try and get me on disability as soon as I turn 18.

I will have to owner train my service dog, and I'm slightly worried since I've only ever had cats. My sperm donor is very much a cat person so we've never had dogs. I've seen videos and techniques on how to train certain tasks and how to award a dog to get their desired behavior, but seeing it online and actually doing it is in no way the same thing.

There's also the point of which breed of dog should I get. People will usually say to get one of the fab four, (Labrador Retrievers, Golden Retrievers, Standard Poodles and Collies), but I was thinking of getting a Doberman. They are an incredibly smart, loyal dog breed who love mental stimuli and are suited for mobility tasks. They are often over looked in favor of other dog breed due to having the Hollywood image of being violent guard dogs.

I've done my research on how to get a service dog prospect through ethical breeders, (find a breeder from the list on the Doverman breed club, what kind of questions to ask them, what are red flags, what kind of questions to expect the breeder to ask, what to look out for, etc. etc.). I'm aware that the first year tends to be the most expensive due to all the initial purchases, and am aware that the dog breed I've chosen can be a handful at time, but I really do think they will be the best fit for me.

If someone who owner trained their service dog could give me some tips for the future, that would be great. And if you guys disagree with my choice in dog breeds for a first time dog owner, please make your case. I would love some feed back before I dive in over my head.