#even if i am in a very small curated corner of it

[doctahpants]

Okay, so there's a lot of fourth wall breaking, references of the Doctor hearing non-diagetic music, a spontaneous musical number (after the big bad has been defeated no less) and so on already, both in the trailers and in episodes. Like so many fourth wall breaks, particularly in The Devil's Chord.

This is definitely a part of the bigger picture going on this series, yes?

Our current thought is it's almost like the Doctor is acting as himself (I can't quite think of the right way to word it)

[astriiformes]

Genuinely fond of the booping mechanic as a way of getting some playful interaction with some of the folks who follow me that I am fond of and always appreciate seeing in my notes, but for whatever reason aren't currently mutuals. I tend to keep my dash fairly small and curated, just for personal reasons, but I truly am very fond of many of the people who've been following me for years, or who clearly share a number of overlapping interests, or who think of me fondly even though I'm a relative stranger, and it's fun to have a cute little way to poke those people throughout the day.

(This post is also my way of saying I appreciate a lot of you, whether you've been here for years or are a relatively recent follower; it's nice to have a little corner of the internet where I can be truly weird and I'm glad you're here)

[midnights-cosmic]

do it all again (park jihoon)

01 Pepero Day is Coming

Park Jihoon (ex-Wanna One / Actor)

Jihoon saw his future and was given the chance to go back in time. He does it all again but this time, change it for the better. To keep himself, and her.

[Written in Third Person | Female Y/N]

It’s been two weeks since Y/N had realized and accepted that she actually likes Park Jihoon. He had been invited numerous times by Hyunwook to hang out with them during lunch, or even watch him practice baseball. Daeun would purposely have Jihoon sit next to her all the time. The usual Hyunwook-Y/N-Daeun has turned into a Hyunwook-Daeun-Y/N-Jihoon seating arrangement. In Daeun’s words, “So you’d get used to it without me hearing your heartbeat.” Y/N’s eyes almost rolled at her friends’ ridiculousness.

It was surprisingly quiet on the school field. Many would have thought that even on this early day, students would begin to pour in. The sun has risen at 7:30 AM, but the morning glow is still present. Neither the light nor the darkness was excessive. Just enough to enjoy the sunshine and clear skies.

As Y/N nears the classroom, she passes by the school billboard that reminds them Pepero Day is coming. Y/N shook her head, the corner of her lips quirked. She knows deep down that it’s the Athlete’s club’s ploy with the help of their very loyal fans.

Hyunwook talks tall tales of how many he’ll get again this year that he could open up a Pepero store for it. Is it exaggerated? Maybe, a little bit. Is she complaining? No, not really. Especially when she gets a fair share of chocolate from him.

Y/N pushed the door open. It wasn’t surprising to see the classroom empty and all tidied up. She made her way to her seat, pulling out her phone, and plugging her wired earphones. She scrolled through the numerous lists before pressing ‘admiring you from afar’, a playlist she curated herself. With music ringing in her ears, Y/N rests her head on her arms on the desk. Her eyes closed as she drowned in tunes.

La la la la la la 부르는 노래… (La la la la la la I sing this song…)

There was a tap on her shoulder. Y/N’s eyes widened when her gaze connected with a smiling Jihoon. He gestures something about her earphones and she instinctively removes one. “Good morning.” He said.

“Oh,” Y/N’s mouth twitched. “Good morning. You’re here early.”

Jihoon’s face turned brighter, a small laugh escaping from his lips. “Well, I think you’re earlier.” He sat down on the chair parallel to hers. Y/N watched him place his bag on the floor, pulling out a couple of books and what she assumes to be his notes.

She looked away. Stop, Y/N. You can’t stare at him like that again. You two are friends now. Stop it.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have an extra pen?” Jihoon asked, “I left mine, I think.” he continued, still rummaging inside his bag.

“Yeah, I do.” In a short span of time, she handed him a pen. A pink one. Jihoon’s eyebrows rose while looking at her. “It has black ink, I swear.” Y/N defended. “All my stuff is pink.”

Jihoon smiled, “Thanks. I’ll return it later.”

She could feel her heart thumping in her chest again. There really is something about his smile that makes her weak. Is it his perfectly aligned teeth? Or is it how his cheeks are rounded when he does? Is it maybe how his eyes smile with his mouth? Or-– I’m staring again. Y/N get a grip. Please.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N wears the earphones again and goes back to her initial position. Head on her arms on her desk. She watched the clouds slowly move in the sky, some dissipating as they went.

밝게 비춰오는 이 햇빛��� 앉아… (I sit in this bright sunlight…)

나 혼자, 널 비춰 보다가… (I’m alone, shining on you…)

Just as Y/N was dozing off, a thump next to her table echoed. She flinched and her posture straightened up. “Good morning, my lovely best friend.” Y/N’s lips pressed together as she rolled her eyes. Hyunwook stood tall in front of her. “What’s the point of going to school early if you’re going to sleep in class anyway?” he questioned.

“To not be late. Dumbass.”

“Err, I’d rather sleep more in my bed than do this.” Hyunwook copied how she crosses her arms and closes her eyes. A slap connected on his arm when he attempted to snore. She couldn’t help but laugh along with him anyway.

“Bug off and go to your seat.” Y/N scolded. Her eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall in front, 8:15 AM. Time surely passes by quickly. She gaped at the already occupied tables and few of her classmates grouped up having a chit chat.

Talk about timing when Daeun walked in and waved at her, eyes narrowing at a sitting Jihoon beside her. The only gap between them is the walkway.

Was that even his seat? Daeun thought. Smirking, she strolled towards her best friend and greeted her. “Hello to you.” Daeun approached, hanging her tote bag on her desk. She turned her body and faced Y/N, discreetly pointing at Jihoon.

What is he doing there? Daeun’s eyes flickered. With your pen?

Y/N’s face flushed. He borrowed it.

They were talking in silence, mouthing the words to each other.

I see. Daeun wiggled her eyebrows, while Y/N swatted her away.

It’s not like that.

Sure. Daeun stuck her tongue out and turned, giggling as she did so.

Y/N peeked at Jihoon. She assumed that he’s either studying or reviewing for something. His pen— her pen— twisting in between his fingers as he reads. She watched how his eyes went back and forth from the book to his note then back to the book. Then their eyes connected.

Y/N almost tore her eyes away when Jihoon spoke, “Do you need the pen?” She can see Daeun turning her back and watching them.

Y/N shook her head, “Nope. I have an extra, remember?”

“Ah, yes. I just thought you wanted it back.” Y/N shook her head once again then smiled. Daeun watched them with raised eyebrows. Interesting.

“It’s nothing, Daeun. Turn back around.” Y/N sighed, pinching her friend’s arms. “Teacher’s here.”

“Hm…” was all Daeun could reply, her grin reaching from ear to ear.

– - – —- - – - – —- - – -

“Are you guys excited for Pepero Day?” Hyunwook asked, breaking the silence between the trio. “Hello? Am I talking to anyone?” He added when no one replied.

Y/N is busy doing her assignment which she forgot is due today. Daeun is scrolling through her phone while silently laughing to herself. A scoff escaped Hyunwook’s lips.

Every year, it’s like this. He’s the only one who gets overly excited on Pepero Day. To be fair, he also thinks it’s a stupid holiday but it’s fun; you get a lot of chocolates, letters, and people tell you how much they adore you.

“Tss, I know you guys barely get Pepero but ignoring me like this is—” Hyunwook’s chair screeched as he stood up. “Fine. I’ll see you both, never.” The sound of his thumping footsteps echoed inside the library.

“What’s up with him today?” Y/N asked, eyes still glued to her paper, hands scribbling down the letters as fast as they could. It’s not Hyunwook’s first time to sulk. He always says the same line, but he’ll end up hanging out with the girls the next day anyway.

“I don’t know.” Daeun answered.

Y/N didn’t miss her tone. It was almost suspicious, as if Daeun knows something she does not. YN’s pen rose from the paper. “Daeun?” She looked at her friend’s way, who is still scrolling through Tiktok videos like there’s no tomorrow.

“What?”

“Tell me.” Y/N pushed. The pen’s feedback from the table equaled Daeun's sigh.

“I told him I like him,” Daeun gulped, biting her lips.

Y/N’s eyes went round at the information. “When?”

“Yesterday, when he walked me home.” Daeun exhaled, a heavy feeling weighing down in her chest, “Look, he doesn’t like me, and now I feel dumb for confessing,”

“I can’t talk to him yet. Maybe we can hang out like this, yes, but you have to be present or else…” Daeun’s lips quivered.

“I’m sure he was just taken back. I mean, we’ve been friends since six. He probably wasn’t expecting it.” Y/N assured.

“He laughed, Y/N.” Daeun pressed. “He laughed and said that I was joking, that I don’t like him like that. At least not romantically.” She looked away. “He told me that I probably ate a lot of tteokbokki and had a food coma.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped from her lips. Hyunwook you dork. “Look–” she giggled.

“It’s not funny!” Daeun whined. “It’s real Y/N. Every time I see Hyunwook, my day instantly gets brighter, you know? Like nothing could go wrong. He walks with me every day and I feel safe. I think about him all the time. He makes me want to look forward to my future. He’s in here,” Daeun pointed to her head. “And here.” and her heart. “You’ll know it when you experience it too.”

Y/N leaned back, eyes sparkling. “I understand.”

“You don’t have to ignore him though. It seems like he wants to talk with you.” Y/N added as the bell rings for their last class of the day.

– - – —- - – - – —- - – -

Jihoon wanders through the crowded hallway. Few students have greeted him as he passes by, some of his close friends fist bumping with him before letting him go.

Jihoon let out a tired breath once he reached his locker. It’s been a long day for him. Multiple quizzes, a ton of assignments due, his presentation for preparation for uni, and some school club reports that he still needs to finish. So much for being the President of a school org.

As he placed his books inside and gathered his extra shirts, a sticky note fell. Jihoon’s brows furrowed. How can someone place a note inside his locker?

Flipping the paper, he reads: Don’t accept the Pepero from her. Please.

Her? Who’s her? Jihoon cocked his head, his lips pursed. Pepero day is in two days and he always receives at least 5 boxes, so who exactly is the note referring to?

Rolling his eyes, the paper crumpled in his hand. Whoever is trying to prank him won’t work. Jihoon has too many things on his plate right now to play along with someone’s silly games.

“I’m scared to walk alone.”

Jihoon heard a feminine voice.

“Then wait for him to finish baseball. I’m sure he’ll still walk you home.” Another voice talked.

Jihoon closed his locker’s door, catching a glimpse of Y/N and Daeun walking towards his direction; their attentions fixated on each other. Daeun looks frustrated while Y/N, on the other hand, looks more relaxed.

“Yeah, right. Like I would want to be with him alone.” Daeun stressed. “Oh. Hi, Jihoon!”

“Hi!” Jihoon waved back. Y/N smiled and bowed at him.

“Tough day?” Daeun asked.

Is it that obvious? Jihoon exhaled deeply, “Veryyy tough day.”

There was a brief silence between the three students until Jihoon breaks it. “Are you guys heading home?” He didn’t miss Daeun elbowing her friend.

“Uh, yes.” Y/N spoke. “Well, Daeun is. I’m going to work.” she mumbled something to Daeun that wasn’t really audible to Jihoon.

He watched the two silently banter in front of him. Jihoon lets out a chuckle when the two start hitting one another. He felt as if he was watching a stand-up comedy performance right before his eyes. His muffled laughter probably caught the girls off guard as they suddenly stopped and faced him once again. He heard something along the line of ‘Just go to the baseball field’ and a bunch of ‘You can’t make me’.

“Sorry,” Y/N blurted. “She and Hyunwook had a fight.”

“It wasn’t a fight.” Daeun complained.

“Then go. I need to go to work.”

“But I don’t want to see him. I wanna go home.” Daeun objected. They’re starting again. Jihoon could only watch in amusement.

“Then go home?” Y/N questioned.

“I’m scared to walk alone, remember?” Daeun rolled her eyes.

“Your house is like ten minutes away and the sun is still out. People are still out there, you know.” Y/N is starting to get irritated. Jihoon can feel it. Jihoon can see it.

“But—”

“I’ll walk you home.” Jihoon intervened. Both girls snapped their heads in his direction. One expressing excitement and one bewildered. “I mean, I can walk you home. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure! Thanks, Jihoon!” and just like that, the three of them walked out of the building.

They passed by the baseball field, one of the players being their friend. Hyunwook isn’t that hard to spot either, he stood tall among his team mates and for some reason, his skin glows under the setting sun more than the rest.

“I’ll be heading this way.” Y/N announced, referring to the street on their left.

“Aaaand Jihoon and I will be this way.” Daeun pointed at the opposite street, “See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you.” The girls did the usual hug and their best-friend clap. “Boom, bitch!” The two yelled, ending their ridiculously fun made-up cheer.

Jihoon’s eyes crinkled at the sight. He has been smiling ever since they started walking.

“See you, too, Jihoon.” Y/N waved her goodbye. The trio parted ways.

Jihoon couldn’t help the thoughts running in his mind. Where is Y/N heading? What part-time job is she doing? Why is she even working? From the outside, she didn’t look like her family was struggling for money. Or maybe he’s just assuming and judging she’s not?

“She does it for fun.” Daeun interrupted his mind. “She really likes coffee and bread. There, she gets them for free plus money, so it’s a win-win situation.”

Jihoon leaned inwards, relaxing his shoulders. “I see.”

“She’s really something.” Daeun bragged. Jihoon agrees.

Masterlist

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[yinwaryuri]

I've held off posting for a long time about the issue regarding Build and Poi.

A lot of things have rubbed me wrong about the way it went down, how the people involved handled it in the beginning, I am severely allergic to Twitter, and all in all, it's been so much to take in and digest over the past few weeks. I have no real understanding of law for any fucking country and I am not a source blog for news or updates or translations. Speaking in support of anyone, to me, seems perfectly inappropriate and useless. As much as I have my own personal thoughts and feelings, I'm aware of biases and that's no basis for an open conversation.

That, and well....I've been here before. I don't mean with the thing about the dug-up tweets that caused a riot a few months ago. I don't even mean controversial celebrity trials in general. I'm talking about people I personally knew very well being in a lawsuit where some hefty accusations were made and the community got split over their feelings about it. It's a fucking nightmare. I don't need to repeat those details because it was a different case and projecting any of those circumstances onto the one in question would be wrong.

So I'm only going to say this once.

Cut it out.

Stop being self-righteous. Stop taking extreme positions and cutting off friends whose thoughts and views vary. I don't care how convincing one side or the other is to you right now - we do not know the truth and there is a fairly long wait for us to have it laid out for us. If you look at those supporting the opposite side as you and don't think of yourself as also potentially supporting a guilty person, please take a moment to reflect. What is your goal by acting that way? To be right? To feel right? To "weed out the idiots"?

Curate your experience all you like, but cutting people off to such extremes is going to make for very small corners and very nasty echo chambers. This fandom looked itself in the mirror and got so ugly the mirror shattered and we're all just shards now. Little pods of pro-this, anti-that, unsure-something-or-other, etc. There's still so many unanswered questions, and evidence to be reviewed and cross-examined. Some of you will still choose to deny the outcome because it doesn't match the narrative in your head. But before you reach that level of desperation, I simply ask that you put your energy toward making and keeping this fandom a place where people can come for escape.

I won't judge you for being open about who you support here, if you have chosen a side. But attacking and othering people really doesn't make you the better person and you're not gonna get some kind of badge of honor for being woke. A lot of us are just people who come to fandom because it's what brings us joy in a world that is very fucked up, so coming into that space to start fires and burn bridges is really shitty. Making people feel uncomfortable to speak up because they might be attacked or cancelled for merely wanting a proper discussion is awful and I've seen enough.

For those of you who could really use a shoulder to lean on, my offer is here. I can't promise to be a perfect support, and if you're looking for some kind of mediator in an argument that won't be it. But I encourage anyone who needs to get their thoughts and feelings out to take that opportunity privately. Take a step back or a break if you feel like that's gonna help. If you're still unsure, do not hesitate to use any resource you can think of until something works. This has been hard on mental health for some people and it deserves to be acknowledged and given the attention necessary to help people recover.

I still love many people in the KinnPorsche fandom. I still love KinnPorsche. I would love things to heal, regardless of whatever comes out of this lawsuit. I would still love another season of the show if it were possible, for current and upcoming BOC projects to do well, and for the other actors and creators impacted to still enjoy happy lives and careers. I hope this post encourages thoughtfulness and honesty, and most of all, unity. If you've read this far, thanks for at least considering my input.

[old-lorarri]

─ paper rings . . . ❨ send me a description of yourself + a fandom and gender preference, and i’ll ship you with a character. ❩

i couldn't miss out a good time! i had this previously done but it would be interesting to know who i'd match with! i copy pasted but i added some more that might help impact the results. expect me to come around for another if i may? maybe the next day or next week.

fandom: formula one

info abt me: female & prefers men!

my big three is: leo-gemini-pisces!

i am quite an adaptable individual, love sunsets, stargazing, animals and pets & divination or anything related to spirituality.

not quite fond of social media but i really love interacting with people whom i share interests with here in tumblr! lately, i am really trying to build friendships amongst f1 writers and even readers too.

i heavily value my private life and prefer not to tell people about my personal next step in life (preferring not to share private information unless i feel comfortable) and i don't post much in my social media accounts but i have an instagram solely for posting my well curated portraits with poems as captions.

i also love psychology, deep talks about life or anything very reflective, tell me a situation that had been bothering you and i will make you reflect and tell about yourself. (this scares some people because they always say i could read them like an open book)

having a lot of hobbies and interests (i couldn't stay still between one thing [e.g. i could love making music this week, next week i'd be into arts]). right now i am into writing fics and serving the people some entertainment lmao but i have to stop because for some reason my reach is not reaching idk what to do to alleviate that. i have a keen eye for detail and quite a perfectionist — selective even.

i have a small circle of friends in real life. they are the ones who i can trust my life with. i do believe that quality is better than quantity. but building new connections helps me discover about people more and reflect about life.

my talents are diverse mainly because in my country being an all out performer is a thing. schools were literally built here for you to show and perform like beyoncé or sorts to earn grades. singing while playing an instrument, dancing, acting, writing, you name it i could give it a go. i am a theater kid so i think it impacted developing these talents, they're very enjoyable regardless. 100% not picky with music either, music kind of reflects a person's soul. roadtrips are nice and they're quality time. that's how you also know which friend of yours is only there for clout and the ones who are there because they look forward to a journey of sharing the same space with another.

clubbing is not my thing. i am not fond of smoking or drinking alcohol. I AM HEAVILY TURNED OFF BY VICES but i don't mind an occasional wine for formal events. if you put me inside a club, expect me to sit down on a corner and watch everyone. i tend to attract men easily (i am not bragging but it's hard rlly) and i do believe clubs are not the best place to attract guys sorry •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ if you'd invite me to a party, we can have picnics or a dinner at your home or somewhere. i couldn't handle clubs, 100% would dip if someone say clubs or bars. they're too overwhelming.

i was raised in a quite conservative household so i preferably wear clothing that do not show much skin. i love statement outfits and prefer to make my own clothes or customize clothes rather than buying high-end branded clothing. my wardrobe is quite diverse, i can have masculine and feminine outfits. styles from fairycore, 50s, 80s, 90s wear, autumn wear, formal wear and officewear. i have gowns too! at this point i can build a boutique and often get teased about it by people in my circle💀 i grew up with relatives who doesn't smoke and only drink on occasion.

my love language (receiving) is acts of service and receiving gifts. my love language (giving) is acts of service and quality time / words of affirmation. i love solving people's problems and give them cheat codes in life hahahaha

idk if this would help but i have a stale lovelife, if i happen to put myself out there there there will always be a lot of guys wanting to pursue me ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ i pull away immediately if this starts to happen because it drains me so much. i would then focus into my career and go into hermit mode again, the one who stays in my life and wait for me to regain my energy is what i think, is meant for me. tbh, i need someone who is patient and understanding towards me or it's going to be disaster lmfao ฅ[⁠ᓀ´⁠ ▾ `⁠ᓂ⁠]ฅ

LEWIS HAMILTON

very private person, both of you like to keep it that way especially when it comes to you relationship

both of you have very deep conversations about life each other certain topics and just life in general

you both love to reflect on stuff and help each other get stuff of your chest

you tend to do this while you cuddling with chill music in the background

lewis supports you though all of your different hobbie phases

love that your so open to trying new things

you both have a tight inner circle and you both value quality over quantity

the two of you def recorded a song together

you both hold fashion shows for each other after a massive shop

both of your love languages are is acts of serves

which sometimes turns into a funny competition of who can out do the other

is always patient and understanding when it comes to you

[sabraeal]

The Most Perverse Creature in the World, Chapter 13

[Read on AO3]

Written for @bubblesthemonsterartist, who one first place in the 500 Follower raffle MANY years ago, and enjoys using her golden tickets to torture me. SHE STILL HAS THREE MORE AFTER THIS

Mayu might well be a bird for how much she flits about your chambers, fussing at the tattered corners of your patience. The kind that flies in through an open window and then struggles to find its way back out.

“I did not expect you back so soon, my lady.” There’s so much clanking and clinking and clucking over at the sideboard that you despair of getting any actual refreshment. “When you’re in session, most times you don’t come back ‘till after dark!”

A lady does not glower, but so many months hidden behind lace has made your careful curation of expression lax. Your mouth thins before you catch yourself-- or rather, a glimpse of your veil, crumpled at the corner of the desk-- smoothing it to a neutral smile. “I am afraid there was not much to say today.”

Nothing for the ears of a young woman such as your maid, at least. Quite a lot had been said, at length, and you--

“There.” Steam curls up from the cup settled before you, sitting just askew on its saucer. “Are you satisfied then, my lady?”

“Satisfied?” The word claws its way out, but you hardly mark the pain. “Surrounded by a council full incompetents, all of them bent on taking their pleasure and leaving me with--”

No words fit for company, at least. Perhaps if you too had been born to your seat with a half dozen forefathers left to warm it, their generous bottoms wearing down the unforgiving wood until it cradled yours as comfortably as a womb, you might plow ahead, unheeding of propriety or good sense. But instead your teeth snap around the sentiment, leaving it to be swallowed down with your other indignities. And oh, what a feast these men have made for you this evening.

“Ah, I only meant...?” Her eyelashes flutter, hands uncertain where they hang above the desk. “The tea...?”

“Oh, Mayu!” Ill-temper streams from you like steam from a kettle, the heat of it lost in one great sigh. “My apologies. I’m afraid I’m not good company tonight.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, ma’am,” she says, firm. “If my service isn’t pleasing, then it’s only right you be cross--”

“I’m hardly cross with you, my dear.” Her hands are cold between your palms, trembling and small. “I’m cross with...a great number of people tonight, but I promise none of them are in this room.”

“Oh,” the wind hums through the windows. “That so?”

It is only reflex that saves your tea, honed from a dozen summers of rescuing tablecloths from the sort of shenanigans only a growing boy could conjure. By the cat’s grin stretched across your sill-- and the endless expanse of legs that accompany it-- he expected no less. “That’s a relief.”

“You.” You set the cup clattering against the saucer, sweeping skirts up to standing. With one finger brandished in his direction, Obi flinches. “Has no one ever made you wear a bell?”

His palms fly up, the face framed between them the very picture of innocence. “It’s been discussed. Hey, didn’t you say you weren’t mad at anyone--?”

“That’s before I knew you were here.” Your hand drops, disappearing into the folds of your skirt, and he relaxes. “Though, to be quite honest, it’s not you I have quarrel with.”

“Oh?” A corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. “Who could it be? Maybe mister--?”

A huff escapes you, hands hooking around your hips. “As if Sir Mitsuhide were anything but a pleasure.”

That only makes his satisfaction all the slyer. “That’s certainly the opinion of quite a few professionals...”

To respond, even to admonish, would only serve to encourage him. “If you must know, it is your master who plays at my last nerve.”

“Ah, Master...” One of those long arms reaches behind his head, scrubbing at the bristle. “C’mon, my lady, you aren’t still sour about that business this morning, are you?”

I don’t make the rules. The boy’s scowl stretches across your memory, his hands useless where they lay on his desk. I merely uphold them.

“No.” The denial sounds like an affirmation from your lips, but there is no point in retraction. “If I am so sour, it is because despite his claims of being my ally, week after week I am left to defend myself against those dogs alone.”

“Ah.” Your shadow grimaces. “I take it that the meeting didn’t go well?”

There is a torrent of words that rushes to your mouth, a deluge of indignities that you could lay at His Highness’s feet. Whatever else one might say about His Highness-- and oh, you have quite a bit waiting to drip from the tip of your tongue, the sort of things that would make your governess clap her hands around your ears and hers in equal measure-- you can at least say this: he keeps his promise. To disappoint you, at least. “It would be a kindness to call it a disaster.”

Obi snorts. “That good, huh?”

“It has been made clear to me that since I consort with courtesans and whores--” your nails dig sharp crescents into your palm, and oh, how you wish it were not impolite to make them bleed-- “that my words are little better than their own. Lord Hiroki called for a vote upon a minor issue, one of his pet amendments, and I...”

I merely said nay. The fear grips you even now, safe in your chambers. I said nay, and they all fell upon me like hounds on a vixen.

Anger opens your mouth, but shame shapes the words into, “It did not go well.”

“Ah.” Obi’s long fingers casually curl, cracking as they dig into the meat of his shoulder. “I see.”

“I could canvas every brothel in Wistal, I could write a painstaking proposal for tax law that addressed every issue inherent in our current policy, but none of it matters if I do not have allies. Strong allies,” you press, pacing across the room. “Ones who bother to come to council meetings.”

Weariness washes over you, your head falling heavily into your hands. “I cannot do this alone. I must make a show of friends in high places, and fast. Even if there were a single man who agreed with me in that room, he would not risk speaking out against the rest. Why, I had to wait for Arluleon bother to speak for me, and even so it was only to say--”

Might I remind you that the lady here is of gentle birth?  His pompous tone echoes enough to make your ears ache even now, hours later. It is unbecoming to speak before her in such a fashion.

Your teeth grit, his words like sand between them, wearing your control down to nubs. “Well, it was not to remind them that I was a colleague deserving of respect.”

Obi is a boy of quick reflexes and even quicker wit, but when you pivot on your heel, prepared to pace across the pile you’ve already worn a runnel in, he’s quiet. Thoughtful, if you had to put a word to it. “Ah, lady, I was wondering...he’s met you before, hasn’t he? Before you came here.”

You work your way back through his question, trying to find what possible subject he could saddle that pronoun with, and finally ask, “Who?”

“His Grace, the Marquis.” He stares at you as if you are the incomprehensible one. “Haruka.”

“Arluleon?” Your husband had never sent for you while the council was in session-- nothing is more boring for a woman than to be married during the Season, he laughed the first time you asked, still too young to wonder, give it a decade or two, and then you can bring our daughters-- but he’d had visitors in the country. Friends though, not rivals, spending the long summers planning their coups for the next year. “He came to the funeral--”

“No, no. I mean before the whole--” his hand grimly sweeps in front of his face-- “business.”

You blink, lost. “Why do you ask?”

“Er...no reason. I just was thinking, seeing you two on the stair, that maybe...” It is impossible to discern which of his whims made him sail down this particular route of inquiry, but whatever it is, he changes tack. “Just curiosity, my lady.”

It’s a curious question indeed, but your suppose it’s harmless to entertain it. “Once, I believe. He attended the wedding. But that must have been...fifteen years past now, and clearly of no consequence to him.”

Obi hums, far too interested in such a dull matter. “What makes you say that, my lady?”

“He met me at the castle gates the day I arrived in Wistal, and if he recognized my name more than my title, it would be a great surprise to me,” you sniff. “He had been much more concerned about whether I would properly submit to protocol, should he only apply the right pressure. I doubt he even recalls whether the bride he met all those years ago was a girl in the flush of her first season, or a spinster being rescued from the shelf, let alone any detail of my face.”

Despite his love for the sport, your father had never allowed you on his hunts, not even when other ladies arrived trim and stylish in their habits, riding beside their husbands. It had not been until you had been a woman grown, married a year and some and eager to show your husband just what fun you could be, that you saw your first fox caught, ruthlessly cornered by the same hounds you fend scraps from the table. An unearthly sound tore from its throat as the teeth clamped clamped down, strangled and hopeless--

And mirrored now by your shadow, a hand pressed over his eyes.

“Are you quite all right?” It’s impossible that he could have hurt himself, not when he hasn’t moved from your sill, but still, you squint at him, attempting to assess the damage. “Is something the matter?”

“No, no,” he groans, hand flapping between you. “It’s nothing. I just...put something together. That I can’t really unknow.” A laugh gasps out of him, more pain than amusement. “Well, that will be interesting.”

You stare at him, brows knitted. “Why would you want to--?”

The doors to your study swing open, Mayu breathless between them. “Ah, my lady!”

Curious. You could have sworn she’d been over at the sideboard, fussing with yet another cup of tea. Perhaps she’ll make an admirable domestic after all. “Mayu, what are you--?”

“You have a visitor!” she gasps, color high on her cheeks. “At the door.”

“The door?” Your fingers idly pluck at where your veil lays crumpled, tossed aside in your fit of pique. There are few at court who you would name friend enough to visit, and fewer still who would call upon a widow still deep in mourning. “Will wonders never cease. Did they leave a card?”

“N-no.” Her eyes widen, guilty, and ah, the poor thing never thought to ask. “He’s, ah, waiting, my lady. In the parlor.”

“He?” Obi’s mouth curls with a slyness you’re quite sure you mislike. “Sounds like you’ve got some tenacious suitor, my lady.”

“What it sounds like is that some Wisteria has seen fit to take root on my settee,” you murmur, pinning your veil in place. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

“Me?” One hand presses to his chest, every inch of his raised brows professing his innocence. “Do I look like the sort of messenger that would spring a prince on you--?”

“Almost certainly,” you inform him. “And you’d stick around to watch.”

“You wound me, my lady, I would--”

“It’s not His Highness,” Mayu blurts out. “Either of them.”

“No?” It is a short list of men at court who would think to darken a window’s doorway, and to walk into your parlor, sure of their welcome-- or perhaps, uncaring of it--?

Your hands stiffen on the final pin, shoving it in clumsily enough the point drags over your scalp. “You don’t mean to tell me that Arluleon--?”

“No ma’am,” she pipes, her mouth twitching toward something close to a smile. “The opposite!”

Mayu’s assessment had not quite been...politique, but even you must admit that when your eyes fall upon the young man lounging in your parlor, cleaned and pressed and grin running parallel to the scar carved across his nose, the girl is not precisely wrong.

“Sir Zakura.” You incline your head the barest degree, enough imply regard without suggesting deference. Peer he might be, but baron hardly outranked a sitting countess. “Are you on your way to dinner?”

“Countess.” His mouth spreads wide on the title, a detail you hardly miss as he bows just a hair too deep for your station. “I thought you might be in need of an escort.”

Your steps stutter on the carpet, only for a moment, hidden beneath the weight of your skirts. “Sir,” you manage, your smile stiff on your lips. “It is kind of you to think of me. But surely you know I must decline.”

“Must you?” His head cocks, same as his smile, curious and too confident by a half. “Can’t say I see a reason why. Unless you already ate.”

“I haven’t,” you say before you can think better of it, and by Shidnote’s smile, he knows it. “But it would hardly be appropriate.”

“C’mon now, my lady.” He slouches against your mantel, rumpling the crisp lines of his coat. “Surely everyone knows you eat.”

“The problem is not with eating, sir.” It would be helpful if you could summon a chill to your words the way your great aunt had always done, leaving all who spoke with her in the cold. Perhaps that might cool the warmth in Sir Zakura’s smile when you tell him, “It is that I am in mourning still.”

His eyebrows are already the proper bent for incredulity, but the effect is heightened when he lifts them, one a hair higher than the other. “So you don’t eat dinner?”

“I am not supposed to keep company.” It is impossible for His Majesty’s aide to not know what propriety demands of you, but still, he only smiles when you protest, as if you were but a child refusing to eat their vegetables. “The thought is kind, sir, but I am certain my presence would put a damper on the evening.”

“As charming a woman as you?” He shakes his head. “I doubt it.”

You scoff. “A widow is hardly charming. Everyone might pity her, but few would welcome a reminder of their own mortality. Perhaps when it is lighter, I--”

“And when is that?” He shrugs, a sinuous movement even with shoulders as broad as his. “A month? A few weeks? I’m sure no one would mind if the rules were bent, just this once.”

Your mouth gives a rueful twist, one he cannot see. “Widows are not allowed much bending, I’m afraid.”

His grin stretches far too wide. “Now that’s not true. I’ve known several very flexible widows in my time.”

“Sir.” It is a mercy that lace hides you; your flush would only encourage him to outrageousness. “It would be inappropriate in the extreme for me to step out while I am so deep in mourning. I appreciate that you thought of me, but I’m sure one of the young debutantes this season would be must more to your like--”

“Not at all.” That mouth of his is utterly brazen when he tells you, “I like a mature woman.”

Your own pulls flat. “Then I must disappoint you. If the castle records are correct, I’m afraid that my own birth was quite a few months after your own.”

That grin of his sharpens down to a point. “Age had nothing to do with maturity, my lady. His Majesty tells me that one all the time.”

His Majesty. The title pricks at you. Sir Zakura might play at flirtation, but he hardly needs to impress you with his connections, not when the king has already asked you--

Ah. So that’s what this is. Shidnote might plead pleasure all he likes, but this...this is business.

“All right,” you concede, your hands clenching in your skirts. “I suppose one dinner could hardly hurt.”

[coffeedrgn87]

On Gender And All Things Non-Binary

Note: Indirect mention of gender dysphoria and the struggle of living in a binary world.

During my recent (and still ongoing) recovery from gender-affirming surgery, that’s given me so much joy, and the feeling of wholeness, I’ve lived in this perfect bubble of blissful ignorance. Sorely lacking energy, I spent most of the time at home, making only small trips into the outside world. These were carefully planned trips; a coffee from the coffee place next door, Kombucha from the corner store, a few rolls of toilet paper, a sweet. None of these required much human interaction. So, for the most part my bubble of non-binary bliss stayed intact.

I devoted my recovery time to a carefully curated queer-AF TikTok feed, queer literature, art, queer movies and series, and queer fanfiction. Some five weeks into my recovery, I met a friend here and there for coffee, for brunch, for a chat. But all these friends had something very important in common. They saw me, the real me. They used my pronouns, supported my choice to have gender-affirming surgery, and were genuinely excited about all the progress I made with having my gender marker and legal name changed (by the way, that’s all done! 🥳)

So, over the past month and a half I didn’t have my normal experience. I lived in this utopia-like world where nobody misgendered me, used the wrong pronouns, or had any negative impact on my non-binary experience. Sure, I kept up-to-date on developments within the LGBTQIA+ community, especially surrounding rights, trans rights, and more. And yes, some of my favourite TikTok creators reacted to transphobic/homophobic comments, but they did so calmly and with the intention to educate. But my world still consisted of respect, for my person, for my pronouns, for me. A few weeks have passed since a friend sent me a voice message to tell me about a dream, yet I remember it as vividly as though it happened five minutes ago. Why, you wonder? Because throughout the message my friend used my pronouns, and it gave me so much joy that I’m still riding high now, several weeks later.

However, my recovery is at the stage where I am able to return to work, and this means venturing out of the house for several hours at a time. It means frequent and longer interactions with other humans, more exposure to this blasted world that still insists gender is binary, and thus too many opportunities for all those little moments where I am (unfortunately) reminded that I could have my pronouns along with the sentence: ‘I’m not a woman’ tattooed on my head, and some folx would still get it wrong.

For instance, where I live pet names for strangers are common. This means I regularly get subjected to the following: pet, babes, darling, honey, hun, love etc. While these are all cute in their own right and have a time and a place, they aren’t for strangers. They are for people you are familiar with, people who want you to use these names. I don’t want a cashier to refer to me as ‘love’ or ‘darling’. Especially, because in this world that still stupidly sees gender as a binary thing when it’s nothing more but a social construct, these types of nicknames are usually given to those people this world presumes identify as female. If I go to my local corner store to get a breakfast roll, the person behind the deli counter chooses to direct those words at me. Why? Because my features are more feminine, which I, personally, I am fine with but having a more feminine appearance doesn’t mean I identify as female. The construction worker in the queue behind me, in muddied work clothes and with a masculine appearance doesn’t get any of those nicknames. They don’t even get called ‘handsome’.

And the above is not the only example, it’s just one of many. In my personal experience, it’s generally cis men who are exceptionally thoughtless when it comes to these absolutely stupid and outdated notions that a feminine-presenting individual should be given priority swiping their public transport card, or should enter a building or a room first. And the list goes on and on. Personally, I utterly dislike it when someone opens a door for me. Mind you, if I am carrying a bunch of things, I am all for it, but otherwise, no, thank you.

I know that these gestures don’t generally come from a malicious place. They are reactions that have become innate, that folx perform without thinking too much about what they are doing. Yet, that’s exactly the problem. This outdated and not at all inclusive social construct of gender being binary has let so many people to walk through the world with blinders on. While I’m almost always happy to answer questions and to educate people (often unprompted), living in a world where I have to fight to be seen (not just once but on multiple occasions throughout a single day) is emotionally and mentally draining. It zaps my energy, forcing me to withdraw for longer periods of time just to recharge my batteries. And I shouldn’t have to do that. I shouldn’t have to come home in the evening and require a solid hour of some mindless activity or other before I am able to function on some semi-normal level.

I am lucky. People who know me through my writing and friends I’ve made online and offline respect me and my pronouns. My video blurbs on TikTok don’t get bombarded with hate. I work in a company that tries very hard to respect me and works to better itself, to improve and change. I have some family that accept me for who I am and very dear friends who support me fiercely. I have a therapist I regularly yell at (not literally!), and while I desperately want a cat in my life, I have friends who share their purring fluffballs with me. I have so many things I feared I’d never have, and I am beyond grateful, but those daily reminders that too many people are so very blind when it comes to seeing that gender is most definitely not binary hurt. I still brave this world, day in and day out, but often, it’s with a heavy sigh and with a desperate wish that things were different.

I have most definitely reached the toughest part of my recovery.

[literaryspinster]

The thing is with ships like Melvika Melco or whatever else is that...they're such tiny ships. Apart from a few popular fanarts, I've only seen a small handful people on here *actually* "shipping" Melvika and most people who do are just lesbians who think they're hot. It's never going to be canon and it's just a fun thing that a small group of people are doing. It's just a crackship and in no way threatens the canon-ness of Meljay. It's cool to not enjoy it or the characters but the reasons like "They're not good for each other" or "doesn't do anything for her story" or whatever is a nonissue as it's not canon and never will be. Shipping Mel and Jayce with other people isn't always a malicious act of trying to separate them. You don't need to believe a crackship make a good couple because...that's the point of a crackship, sometimes they don't make sense and some people enjoy that. If you don't, that's absolutely fine, but the thought that you need to be convinced if you're not interested in a ship anyway is like...why bother? Let people have their fun and you have yours. And to be honest, people know these ships are never going to be canon. Genuinely! sorry if this comes off as a rant, not my intention to offend and this is not in bad faith, just a responce. It's just I think people in fandoms, in general, should focus more on things they enjoy instead of things they don't, especially if it's small and essentially harmless.

I get all that, and I am a pretty big proponent of focusing on things that I enjoy over things that I don’t, or at least not letting my negativity reach much further than my little corner. You’ll never see me butting into a M*lvika post to hate on them, you’ll never see me spreading negativity in their tag, and this is likely the last I’ll really say about them as I’m truly not trying to be a fan cop or anything of the sort. But I got the ask and wanted to explain my feelings on the matter, even though I knew they probably wouldn’t be taken all that well.

I do get rather frustrated with seeing so much toxicity under Mel and Meljay posts for all sorts of reasons (it seems to stem from the fandom accepting it as canon that she was up to no good with very little pushback) I never want to replicate that energy, that’s not the sort of fan I want to be. My thing isn’t that I think Meljay is being threatened, it’s me not wanting to constantly see hate directed at them in spaces that should be free of that. I can’t control what happens in the show, but I can attempt to curate my fandom experience as best as I can.

As for needing to be convinced that a ship is good actually, again, that’s just… kind of the way I am. If I don’t understand something or see the logic in it then I want to try to understand it, I want metas and breakdowns that find the depth in something that I can’t quite see. If I’m going to ship a pair, it has to be because I think those two people would get along and enrich each other’s stories. And yeah, I was open to shipping them at first, which is why I was initially seeking a good analysis, as I don’t really have a canon interaction to go on.

Lastly, and this is a big one, if I have to see comment after comment about why this character I like’s canon relationship sucks and why this other one would be better, even when I am not at all seeking content about that alternate pair, then it’s natural for me to get curious about why.

That’s me, that’s always been me. But it’s definitely not the way I expect everyone else to be or need everyone else to be.

And I don’t think you’re ranting, I’m glad you came to me with this, and I hope I’ve made my feelings clear.

[kitcat-italica]

A very specific and complain-y rant that is probably an example of kitcat's thin-skinned-ness incoming:

There's been 2 major instances this week of my fandom spaces being invaded, and I'm so fucking tired of it.

To clarify: I don't mean 'invaded' in the sense that I found some discourse I didn't like on Reddit, or people started showing up with bad faith takes in the Tumblr tags. Those are annoying, but they're not my fandom spaces — they're public spaces. Anyone can post whatever they'd like. You explore the public spaces of the internet at your own risk.

What I mean by 'invasion' is because these incidents happened on my own specific corners of the internet I have curated for my own fandom experience — namely my AO3 account of my own fic, and an invite-only discord server specific to a particular fandom. (Theoretically anyone out there could join that server, since the invite links are floating out there in public spaces? But the fandom is relatively small, and the number of active users on the server even smaller, so my experience of interacting with people on there qualifies it as a private fandom space.)

I am very protective of my private fandom spaces. I curate my internet experience through these spaces to be fun happy escapism from reality with like-minded people. If you find your way into my private fandom spaces, I would hope the understood expectation is that you add to that experience. Maybe that was too much to ask, idk.

Basically what happened was:

1. I started getting a bunch of comments on a fic from someone without an account. They kept changing their anon name to be different names? But it was obvious it was the same person. And they took the story that means a lot to me, and just started quoting certain parts of it wildly out of context, not really making coherent points and just kind of rambling, and making gross assumptions about it. I'm not really sure what response they're hoping to get? It's the strangest troll I've ever received, but I felt all kinds of gross after reading their 13 comments of this nature over the last 3 days.

2. Yesterday me and my discord server buddies were talking about the parts of canon that we really like, good-naturedly joking about parts of it, having fun. When all of a sudden, someone butts in to say that one of the parts I mentioned was one of the worst things about it that they didn't like. It was such an abrupt tone shift from the fun conversation that it really caught me off-guard? I was so taken aback I just commented "agree to disagree :)" and just shut down, and didn't participate in the conversation for the rest of the night.

It's so frustrating and heartbreaking to me, because it's not like I went trawling through public spaces and found some bad takes that I felt icky about. No, these are instances of people coming into my private internet spaces, and intentionally making thoughtless comments to bring down my (and maybe other people's) fun time. Maybe one of these instances would've rolled off me after an initial "ick" response, but the fact that it's been piling up on me in the last few days has just made it dig into my skin and stick there.

Part of me really doesn't want to participate in fandom anymore. I hadn't updated that AO3 fic for years now, but I was toying with the idea of picking it back up again. But now I squirm every time I think about what the potential response might be, if it's now on the radar of people like that. As for the discord server, maybe I'll bring it up to one of the mods, but it's not like the person did anything against the rules? They were just expressing their opinion like we all were. But I def don't feel as comfortable talking on there anymore.

I know I'm being very thin-skinned about all this, and in the grand scheme of things this is not that big of a problem. But it still feels awful, and a big piece of joy in my life has been shaken and gives me anxiety when I step into those spaces I used to enjoy.

[awkwarddystopianwarlord]

My Closet is Full But My Brain Doesn't See That

You know that stereotype of girls being like “I don’t have anything to wear!” whilst their room is drowning in articles of clothing? Even though I’m not always a girl, I’m very much like that. As are my friends. It’s a funny little battle every Friday night where we individually fight with our closets regarding what to wear on our sacred Saturday Gathering Day. 

I have about three small closets worth of clothing. Because of how my apartment is layed out, I have two closets that form a corner and I also have an IKEA four cube by four cube shelf situation. All of that space is occupied by clothing. One closet has all my jackets and coats, the other has all my dresses, flannels, sweaters, and socks. My cubes hold all my shirts, skirts, sweatshirts, shorts, trousers, and cardigans. But come the end of the week, I don’t bloody know what to wear to participate in weekend shenanigans! I own nothing and everything all at once. This is made worse by the fact that I only really have one day to get decked out with clothes, shoes, and makeup so it’s a stressful time. How do I present myself this Saturday? What is worthy of the planned activities? What items of clothing have I neglected of late and what do I repeat more often? I should just keep an extensive inventory, a Dewey Decimal System but for closet items. 

It’s embarrassing to act as though I don’t have anything good or decent or fun to wear when practically all that dwells in my closets are pieces that I enjoy and use. The nerve of me to strut about my room-house muttering how there’s nothing able to become an outfit. Meanwhile I just ordered a few clothes last week and they’re arriving tomorrow. I’ve ordered many a clothes before, because I like them, and now they sit in my closet and I am blind to their existence the moment I try to curate an appearance. 

Wintertime is the best time for me to dress as I please since I can layer and accessorize far more than I can in the warmer months, though it leaves more room for decision making and therefore brain blanking. I try to wear everything I own once before repeating anything. Like parents with multiple children, I’m assuming as I don’t personally have any, I don’t want to neglect any closet dweller. I want to show them all equal love and appreciation and incorporate them into something. That said, not everything is flexible and not everything fits into the current mood of the day I’m dressing for. Some clothes aren’t forgiving in stormy weather, others aren’t forgiving when my uterus is releasing its monthly contents. Some aren’t forgiving of a hearty meal, others aren’t forgiving of much walking, or much sitting. I may have an outfit idea but the morning of can easily snatch those plans away moments after I rise. 

Saying “I don’t have anything to wear” has more than just the literal translation. When we say it, we mean it to say something more like “I don’t have anything to wear because of the weather” or “I don’t have anything to wear because I’m bloated and feel gross and need something that’s easy to take off so I can deal with my menstrual cup with little chance of disaster”. My current dilemma is “I don't have anything to wear that I feel matches the mood of the punk market I’m going to tomorrow”. Granted, that is likely to change once I stare at each closet for several minutes, ponder, stare at everything again, take some items out, try them on, decide against them, mix and match other things with some decided staples, wander around grumbling, ponder again, stare, fold the discarded options, find inspiration, try on the inspiration, fiddle around with other things that work better together, create a look, eat dinner feeling victorious. I simply need to go through the process first. Then, come tomorrow, I will curate a makeup look that will likely not match at all with what I’m wearing and I will be complete.

[running-with-kn1ves]

INVASION

A/N: I am realllyyy iffy on how this came out, but I weirdly put a lot of effort in it,,, so tada! here it is!

TW Abduction/alien invasion, forced touching & kissing, fluids(saliva), violence, dehumanization

Synopsis: You just HAD to meet the prince of an alien race on your shift at 7-eleven that night, huh? 

Word Count: 3,000

A green abyss.

That was what you had been sitting in for countless days. 

Or, what you assumed had been days. Time was untellable in this coldly lush room that shined with fluorescent lights mimicking a sun and moon. The moon in this room seemed to come out far sooner than the one orbiting Earth though, and the sun was so dim you could stare at it without squinting. You wondered if your captors were used to a different measurement of time, considering they seemed to force you to sleep at earlier and more prolonged periods than you remember on your planet. Though with the noisy activity you could hear outside when you begrudgingly tried to rest, you guessed the mandatory bedtime was merely curated to keep you docile.

You had very few to complain to about your unhappiness in this newfound habitat. It wasn’t like anyone came to visit you, save for the select few anomalies that reluctantly brought your food. With the clinking metal chained to their legs, you came to realize that they were creatures forced into a servitude similar to your species. 

They wore little fabric to cover up the indecent parts of their bodies, displaying their protruding ribs and bruised ankles. Their features terrified you when they first came to your room, though they merely set down food and items. Their large, unnatural eyes shone brightly, taking up two-thirds of their faces as their mouths ceased to exist; with bodies that twisted and cracked, they seemed both fragile yet flexible. You had tried to talk to the creatures on several occasions-- pleading with them, yelling, begging, crying. Even screaming once you got to your breaking point; but none of it worked. Each time, they seemed to look at you with sorrow and skittered away without a sound.

Even now, with one dropping your tray of food and scurrying out as you pleaded for help, you saw it could not understand a word you spoke. The sludge on the tray was dumped from the alien’s haste, splaying across your room and landing specks on a certain someone’s shoes. 

“Would you at least try to refrain from fraternizing with the servants?” A voice called out from the corner. “It's insulting to your hosts to acknowledge them.” You watched as he slowly came from behind a potted tree, shaking his gruel-speckled shoe. “Besides, they can’t understand you.” 

You made a sour face as his disguise fell. The being in front of you had taken the shape of the foliage surrounding your room, green and brown hues reflecting the plants native to your home. The colors blurred for a moment, quickly turning him from an emerald-green bush to his regular state of regal apparel and lilac-gray skin. He had blended in so well you nearly jumped when he changed form. Your stomach twisted into itself as a frown made its way to your face, unable to hide your discontent at seeing him. 

His sets of dark eyes peered down at you, their scrutinizing gaze looking with disapproval. The bastard was twice your height, countless limbs attached to his side as he gracefully made himself known. His teeth were large, sharp canines gleaming when he smiled at you. The alien had small scars carved as symbols decorating his slippery skin; the marks only appeared on his forehead and upper cheeks, having long since healed; they had to have some meaning of importance on his planet.

 Other than his visible differences, the creature was not far off from your own species. If he walked amongst humans on Earth, most would probably perceive him as some costume-wearing weirdo. 

But his presence didn’t make you point or stare as it would on Earth; it simply reminded you of how you were torn away from your home. 

“How are you liking your enclosure? I sent a few things here to make up for my absence.” He touched a leaf that seemed to be browning, looking curiously at it. “I hope you’ve enjoyed them. It’s been hard for us to find things in what's left of your planet.” 

You glowered at him, pinching your lips shut. Being reminded that your planet had been destroyed was crushing. You still held a small hope in your heart that there might be some part of Earth still alive. But hearing the wails of your fellow humans on the ship before you were forced into your ‘enclosure’, made the reality all too prickling. 

“When are you going to let me out of here?” You asked, picking roughly at your hands.

The creature sighed, his lips perfectly curating an unhappy expression. There was something deeply uncanny about his appearance that made it impossible for you to get comfortable. 

“Does your species naturally have such a poor memory? We’ve already discussed this.”

 You grated your teeth as he drew near.

“If you don’t let me out, I’m just going to…to--” You started, clenching your fists and preparing to threaten him.

“Going to what?” He quickly interrupted with a grin. “Your measly human body has already exhausted itself by trying to escape your pen, sweetling. I don’t think you should try this game anymore. Goodness knows it would still take lightyears even to get back to your little planet.” 

Hearing the sheer distance you were from Earth made you shiver. Was there even a sliver of a chance of getting back there? Was it…truly gone? Would you, too, be burned and crushed to ash?

 You still felt you might have been able to save your planet If you hadn’t treated his questions about Earth as a joke the first time you met him. You could still be working in that tiny gas station with your fellow humans, and not here in a cold, unforgiving spaceship made by creatures you thought to be unreal.

That night, the alien in front of you had taken the appearance of your greatest desire; a man that only existed in your dreams. He was the most beautiful being you had ever seen. You were easily fooled by his alluring disguise, stuttering out your words and trying to calm your beating heart while at the cash register. In your moments of quippy remarks and quick scanning in an attempt to appear collected, you had revealed how great your planet was, how useful it could be to him. 

All your simple interaction had confirmed to him was that your species wasn’t intelligent enough to be a threat. Your planet had the minerals his race was looking for, you heedlessly revealed, and that was that. To be fair, you had no idea who he was or that he wasn’t even human. But that didn’t change the fact that you and several hundred others had been captured to be placed in his personal menagerie, and your home was now being viciously mined for his race’s gain. You wished you could have at least gone down on Earth with your loved ones, instead of being trapped in a cage, treated like an expensive pet. 

“Well, if you aren’t enjoying yourself here, I may be inclined to move you into my room. At least, until we get back home.”

Home. His home, he meant. 

“No. I’d rather stay as far away from you as possible.” You mumbled.

“Oh?”

 Your captor turned in your direction, long layers of red and gold fabric trailing behind him that hardly covered his torso. He certainly looked regal, adorning robes finer than you had ever seen.

“I’ll make sure the arrangements are made as soon as possible if that's the case.”

Your eyes went wide in disbelief. Why did he propose the idea to you in the first place if he was just going to make a decision?

“But I just said--!”

“These tantrums of yours are causing more trouble than you’re worth. Until you learn to behave yourself, you’ll stay in my sight.” He strutted closer to you, his multiple hands caressing the leaves and stems of plants as he walked by. “What will the elders think of such a disobedient little human? I’m not quite sure I’ll be able to save you from their wrath, even if you are my pet.”

His words held no sympathy as they jabbed into you, allowing you to realize just how little he thought of your existence. 

“Just-- let me out of here! I want to go home,” You stood up, saying the first things that came to mind. “you disgusting monster!” 

You hoped your words would make you seem big, almost threatening. But once they left your mouth, you just felt childish.

His sets of eyes looked at you with a dull expression, clearly not interested in your newfound exasperation. But you were still hungry to get revenge, hungry to have some sort of control over your abduction. The furrowed, annoyed look on his face gave you a flawed, but tempting idea. 

Getting up from the soft, plushy bed in the center of your ‘room,’ your bare feet began to make a beeline straight for him. You lunged, your hands outstretched with pointed nails. You had filed them with your teeth during your hours of alone time, waiting for the perfect moment to attack. The creature didn’t appear phased, making your hateful expression soon turn uneasy.

 The only emotion he seemed to portray was… disappointment. That was not what you were looking for. 

You aimed for his eyes, hoping to damage at least one. But your hesitation mixed with his strength ultimately created your failure. You grunted and screamed, trying to push away from him as he snatched your flailing arms. 

“If you’re going to call me names, at least use the right one.”  His blunt, clean nails dug small crescent shapes into your skin as a multitude of arms held you in a tight grip. “Aether is fine. Or if you’d like, ‘my lord’ or ‘master’ would suit well, too.” He grinned, eyes gleaming. 

His lips had a natural gradient of black, almost giving him a venomous look; a detail you had never noticed from far away before. It made him look all the more dangerous; your mistake of thinking of him as similar to humans now became far more apparent.

 Aether’s unmatched stature allowed him to leer forward, looking down at you as he shoved you backward. Your head knocked onto the tile floor making you see stars as the “sun” stared down at you. The alien hardly strained as he leaned down, kneeling next to you as you lie dazed.  He was almost amused as you moaned in pain, fingers caressing your disheveled clothes as you held your head. 

“Are you ever going to stop fighting?” He asked with a frown.

You attempted to kick him with your leg, but Aether caught it without a need to dodge.

“No!” You screamed. “So just let me go! Let me out of here!”

 Even if you couldn’t return home, you couldn’t stand being locked in this room anymore. 

You struggled in his grip, trying to bite his hand that tried to cup your cheek. Another set of his arms came up to quickly press you down on the floor, nearly cracking the tile below you with how roughly he shoved you down.

He sighed, clicking his tongue as you refused to look away. 

“Then it seems some training is in order.” 

Aether didn’t give you a chance to scream another word, sticking his large thumb against your tongue as the rest of his hands held you down. You groaned against his hand, trying to spit out his finger; yet that only pressured him to put it farther down your throat. 

“You know, I read about this before entering your planet. When a human isn’t getting enough attention, it lashes out. Same when there isn’t enough food or entertainment-- you humans throw a fit.” 

You could taste his salty, smooth skin as your tongue frantically slid against his thumb. His bare thigh peaked between the fabric of the robes and pushed between your legs. As most of his hands kept you held down, the rest were busy fondling you. 

“I didn’t know you were so dissatisfied with my absence… if you really needed my touch so badly, I would have come sooner.”

‘You’re crazy!’ You tried to shout, but the words came out a gargled mess. 

“We, too, like to indulge in similar acts of passion as your kind. And I would have satisfied you if I knew sooner;” Aether watched as tears began to form in your eyes, his thumb nearly causing you to gag. “Even if you don’t deserve it.” 

He caressed your tongue, letting spit gather onto his digit until he removed it. You coughed hoarsely once it exited your mouth, the alien busy observing the liquid on his thumb. He seemed intrigued, studying it as if it was something odd. Popping the finger in his mouth without hesitation, he sucked the secretion. You watched hazily with watery eyes and a sticky nose, unable to focus on his odd behavior as your survival mode kicked in.

He let go of the slick finger after a swirl of his tongue. 

“Well, I suppose you don’t taste nearly as awful as I expected. Though, that isn’t a reflection of the rest of your body;” He commented, letting his purple tongue flick against the wet digit. “How about… down here.”

He looked down as you shut your legs quickly, trying to get around his leg that kept itself planted between your thighs. Aether looked amused, taking note of how that small phrase seemed to garner so much squirming.

“Please--” You huffed, trying to struggle against him. 

But that only seemed to interest Aether more, his eyebrow arching as your body wiggled against his hands. His long, dark hair fell to the side messily, destroying his preserved image of perfectness. He looked ethereal, like a being created by humans to describe a creature not of this world; a make-believe vision. But this new side of him disgusted you, showing his true, ravenous nature. 

Your cries fell on deaf ears as he leaned down, one of his hands coming to hold your jaw as you tried to twist your head away. 

“Relax, I won’t initiate an intimate, ‘mating’ taste yet. But I still need to understand this sweet flavor, coming from--” He bent down, prying open your lips and shoving his tongue into your mouth.

 Aether groaned pleasurably, finding the taste of you quite delectable. His unnaturally long yet wet muscle took in yours. You pushed against him persistently as your breathing increased, becoming overtly anxious; but still, his strength greatly outweighed your own. His body nearly consumed yours from its utter size, including his multitude of arms that enveloped you without a care. 

You drooled as Aether kept mingling with your tongue, keeping your mouth open as he shut his rows of eyes. He seemed to concentrate, almost savoring the flavor of your mouth. The alien continued his assault for what felt like an eternity, only releasing your tongue with a slick noise when he became out of breath. A line of saliva connected you to him. It was slowly licked away as the creature ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. 

Aether took his time, swallowing as he contemplated whether or not he liked it. Your tongue lolled out, having been engulfed by aether so much it was nearly numb. His eyes glowed, looking down at you and seeming to enjoy your helplessness. He licked your lips and chin, cleaning up the mess he made, but only out of a desire for another taste. 

Your chest pounded, wanting now more than ever to be back home, or at least with a fellow human. You didn’t care at this point, as long as you were away from him!

Aether leaned down next to your ear, taking in a big whiff of your smell and miserable expression.

“Your bodies feel so strange…There is a great deal of research to be done regarding your anatomy. Especially from how sensitive it is.” 

He came close, gently biting the shell of your ear; it was a test for a reaction. You tried to stay quiet, wiggling to get free but ultimately jerking at the new sensation. His teeth grazed down your neck, his tongue almost feeling like a slimy tentacle as it poked outward. The alien’s hands left bruises on your wrists, but his other limbs were busy focusing on your thighs and stomach, riding up your shirt to grab and inspect your flesh. Were you the same all over? Did you have something he hadn’t seen before? He wanted to know all of it, see and experience everything that he had only read about before taking over your planet. 

Aether was too curious to leave you to your own devices. Besides, you were so low on the food chain when it came to other species that he didn’t see much of a problem with using you as his little guinea pig. 

His fingers pinched your hips, several hands getting dangerously lower as you attempted to kick again. It was clear he wasn’t going to back down on seeing every bit of your flesh; eventually, he’d manage to force you to give in to him. Even if that time wasn’t now. Your stomach sank at the thought. Bile began to rise in your throat, making your head spin.

“Please, Aether--” You tried testing his name. Maybe if you pleaded rather than defied, you decided, he might let you go. You desperately hoped for that mercy. 

Your voice sent a jolt through Aether once he heard his name roll off your tongue. Instead of pity that you hoped would flash through his eyes, it was greed. He smiled hungrily at you, liking your newfound obedience. 

“No. Your right to call me by name has been revoked.” Licking his lips, Aether bit down. “Call me ‘master’ from now on.”

[s1ater]

best player, best bet.

pairings. hockey!jj maybank x fem!reader, hockey!rafe cameron x fem!reader

part one of four.

about. your senior year of high school is hard enough with trying to get scouted for a college hockey team, especially when you're a girl. and jj maybank doesn't make it any easier.

part one, part two, part three

warnings. not my gif (my mom saw it and flipped out), swearing, inaccurate hockey teams and info, sexual themes (talk only)

put a pin in this. welcome to my new hockey series with jj, inspired from this one person that writes really good hockey!rare cameron fics (but i don't remember who and am too lazy to search them up). edit: it’s @/sunnypogue

“what do you think will happen if i punched him in the face right now?”

“hm,” kie pursed her lips into a thin line as she switched to your line of eye sight that focused on the opposing team. “seeing you’d have to cross all the way to the other side of the ice rink, it definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially since all his douche friends are surrounding him.. right now,” she bit her lip, thinking about it a little more. “you’d definitely get kicked from the game.”

“you think so?”

“yeah.”

“me too.”

“glad we’re in the same headspace.”

you sighed, standing from the bench before turning to face kie who sat on the other side of the glass, her elbows leaned on her knees, bundled up in her brand new corduroy coat she bought just for occasions like this. even as hockey wasn’t the biggest focus out in outer banks, or even.. a topic.. like at all, there were still a few of you who were good enough to play on a elizabeth city team, all players weeded out by ward cameron himself.

you being one of them.

elizabeth city consisted of two hockey teams with teenage boys located all around the eastern side of north carolina. but to the acceptation of you being really really good, rules were bent and you were shoved on the next ferry out to the main land with the rest of the outer banks boys.

today, you were playing the other team from elizabeth city, the rangers, and you couldn't be more irritated as you watched them boast around with smirks so wide you could see it from across the ice.

you were leaned against the glass that separated you and kie from contact as you stared at one particular boy who was midst a small laugh while lacing up his skates before lifting his eyes, connecting with yours unintentionally. his face consumed with a wider smirk before he mumbled something to his teammates once he got up from the bench.

"you've been spotted," kiara mumbled with a soft cough, "maybe you won't have to cross to the other side after all." the two of you watched the boy, jj maybank take a step onto the ice before smoothly gliding to your teams bench where his smirk didn't falter and he held his posture high once your teammates begun to notice his oncoming presence. "good luck," kie exhaled sharply, pressing her hand against the glass almost in some form of reassurance before traveling further back in the stands where she could spot sarah finding a seat.

"long time no see, y/l/n,” he was leaned against the glass doorway to your teams bench, a snide smile on his face as you made your way next to him with an unfazed expression that curated with you being annoyed. it only made him smile more as he bit down on the corner of his lip. “you ready to get your ass beat?”

“in your dreams, jj,” he only laughed as you were stood across from him, a frown on your face. “we saw you play last game, you weren’t doing so well.”

he frowned immediately, looking away as his mind went back to the colorado rockers game his team played last week, which did in fact not end so well with them winning only by one point, earning a very long lecture from coach.

coming from a city that has low chances of snow, much isn't expected from an ice hockey team. the rangers (jj's team) and the scouts (your team) knew this from day one of practice, meaning everyone wanted to prove that statement wrong. so winning by only one point difference only fed into "much isn't expected" even as the colorado rockers was a really good team.

"well, y/n, your team is no colorado rockers, so we should be able to wipe you up without a problem," his smirk returned and you mirrored his expression, tipping your head slightly.

"i'll believe it when i see it, maybank," you skated away and back to the bench, only to quickly frown once your back was turned to him, his words beginning to sink in.

just like the back and forth banter you and jj shared, your teams always tried to one up each other despite never being consistent or having a streak of winning against one another. it was always annoying and you never really had leverage of being the best, because in the end your wins evened up, always.

"hey, sweetheart," he called loudly, making the smirk very obvious in his voice, "i'll make a deal with you." you finally turned back around to face him, now becoming clear to the fact that most of your teammates were also staring. "you and your team win this game, i'll leave you alone the rest of the season and i'll even step down from ‘elizabeth city's best player’."

you frowned rather harder, "what's the catch?"

his smirked formed into a hard grin that made your chest tighten, "i win, we’ll just say you owe me something."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, actually considering this since him stepping down from “elizabeth city’s best player” would do a lot for you in the fact that scouts eat that type of shit up. and maybank no longer bothering you… that was just a plus.

“deal,” you were hesitant about speaking those words but you still said it with a full voice before turning back around, beginning to prepare to win the game.

°•

“you really bet that?" he quirked a brow as the two of you continued to walk down the dock outside of your house, enjoying the nice breeze that combed through your hair.

"yeah, i did."

you walked side by side with rafe cameron, his hands were stuffed in his pockets and he had a furrow between his brows as he continued to listen to you speak about the bet jj had made, and how you had agreed, stupidly.

"i don't think that was exactly a good idea, kid."

"yeah, well, having a better chance at winning 'elizabeth city's best player' seemed like it was a good idea at the time," you mumbled, staring down as you fumbled with your fingers.

"i don't think that would have helped," he spoke hesitantly, looking down at his own feet before back at the horizon where the sun begun to set within the hills. it made his chest swarm with heat as the colors of orange and pink swallowed his sight. "never has a female won best player for elizabeth city hockey. it's always some guy working his ass off for some college that has more than one season."

"you calling yourself 'some guy', cameron?" you smirked up at him as you thought back to rafe's senior year where he had won best player by a landslide and a year later, actually turned out going to augsburg college in minnisota, where they in fact did experience all four seasons of weather. he shook his head but still stifled a small smile to your words. "besides, i'm not just some girl who knows the basics of hockey, i can outstake and play better than half those boys. that's why your father chose me."

rafe seemed to have tensed at the words 'your father', biting the inside of his cheek as he looked in your direction, but not directly at you. his eyes once again traced and lined against the horizon and the light movement of the waves slapping against the side of the dock. the two of you stopped, leaning against the railing and finally you observed the sunset yourself.

it's silent.

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before looking to rafe with the adjustment of leaning on your elbow. he didn’t look at you making you frown harder as you thought of what to say.

“we lost the game,” you said, breaking the silence despite your words being unnecessary since it was similar to the words rafe had greeted you with when he hopped off his motor bike that afternoon, a frown etched into his face. “but i don’t think jj will make me doing anything stupid.”

rafe quirked a brow as if asking if you really believed that, “he’s a boy.”

“implying.. what?”

“he’s going to make you give him head.. or some shit because that’s what boys do.”

“you included?”

“yes, me included,” he tipped his head to you with his blunt response making it seem stupid of you to ask that question.

you rolled your eyes, still leaning on your forearms as you now begun to think more deeply into this deal. you hadn’t thought that was the type of deal it was, but now the more you thought about it, it totally could be.

“if he pressures you into anything-“

“he won’t.”

“you saying you want to give him head?-”

“rafe, shut the fuck up.”

he laughed as you jabbed your elbow into his ribs, shaking your head to his amusement, before his face fell short and turned back to it's blunt blankness, "i'm serious." his hand clasped the back of your neck as he leaned closer to you, "he can't make you do anything you don't want to do."

you felt him press a kiss on the top of your head before walking off.

°•

practiced kicked ass more than usual due to the loss against the rangers over the weekend and that wasn't something your coach was going to let slide. especially due to one of your teammates starting a fight with jj after he made an illegal play that went unnoticed by the refs.

your coach strived for all of you to play smart and respectfully and to not have anger blind your better judgment, because usually, when that happened, which was a lot, it ended with his players in the box with a penalty none of you could afford.

you pulled your mask from face in order to wipe the sweat that trickled down your forehead, slightly clenching your jaw as you were shoved along to the direction of the locker rooms. you almost allowed yourself to relax now that practice was over till your eyes landed on jj leaned back in one of the many blue stadium seats with his feet kicked up on the chair in front of him. one of his hands held his phone while the other was thrown over the chair next to him, obviously immersed in whatever was on his screen.

you prayed he wouldn't see you.

and he didn't.. till you walked out from the girls locker room, fresh from the shower smelling of strawberries with your hockey bag slung over your shoulder. you also completely forgotten about him till he called out.

"hey, sweetheart," he nodded to you as you turned slowly, tightening your grip on the duffle bag strap as your eyes met his. they were full of wildness and it made your stomach tighten as you examined them more and more, knowing his head was filled full with mischief. "wanna take a walk?"

"come to collect what i owe, maybank?"

he kissed his teeth, the corner of his lips slightly twitching up into a smile as he pushed himself off from the wall, "something like that." he stood close across from you, his hands now stuffed in his sweatpants pocket, eyes eating at you. it seemed he could tell you were nervous by how his smirk seemed to increase no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. he licked the inside of his cheek before tugging on your clothed shoulder, turning you around toward the front exit, "let's go, hockey puck."

navigation (find my taglist there)

@rrosecar @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @greengarsstuff @thedeadlythoughts @i-love-scott-mccall @pradastardust @little-miss-naill @pogueslandia @rudypankowisdaddy @sunsetcurving @rottenstyx @ravi0liii @siruisblacksgf @black-rose-29 @ishwiya @uselesssapphickitten

[oneshot-wxnderland]

Lab Partners With Benefits Pt. 3 | Percy Jackson

Summary: Another week, another lab and Y/n and Percy are feeling a different kind of tension this time.

Category: fluff 

Part 1 | Part 2

–––––––––––––––––––

          Percy had been kicking himself all week. He had forgotten to ask you for your number before you left his place and now you probably thought he was just some asshole looking for a one-time hookup. And he didn’t want that. And he hoped you didn’t want that either. But he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. 

         It’d been a hot minute since Percy was in any kind of relationship and he wasn’t sure if he was even the relationship kind. Even if he did want to be, his life just didn’t lend itself to dating mortals. There was always some monster popping up that he’d have to fight, or quest he’d have to go on, or emergency at camp he’d have to run off to, and Percy was a shit liar. It’s what messed up the last time he’d tried to date somebody. He was constantly blowing off dates and rain-checking everything because the gods are needy attention seekers. 

          He’d seen superhero movies before and related a lot to when they had similar issues. Percy’s not saying he’s Spiderman or anything, but he does live in New York and save it from constant peril – so yeah, he’s Spiderman. 

          This time, however, he was really considering trying again. Trying with you. And Percy had a plan. 

          Sliding into his seat when there were only a few other people in the room yet, Percy felt pumped up. He woke up early, showered, had a FaceTime with the boys to discuss the game plan, and got to class ahead of you so that he was ready to give you his number the first chance he got before he lost his nerve. That was part of Jason’s advice: offer his number to you instead of asking for yours. He claimed it would make Percy come off more vulnerable and less pushy. Leo mostly just spouted different cheesy lines that Percy would never use. Frank didn’t say much but Hazel piped in every now and then when she took the phone from him. 

          “So, you’re lab partners,” Hazel started. “Do you talk outside of your lab?”

          “No, that’s why I need her number.”

          “But you said you did homework together at your place right? So how’d that go? Did she seem interested?”

          Percy paused. 

          “Yeah, it went... fine.”

          Hazel was blissfully unaware of the blush that was creeping up his neck but Jason didn’t miss it. Or the way he suddenly needed to roll up his sleeves and fiddle with them. 

          “Did you just do the homework?” Jason asked suspiciously. 

          “We uh... kissed...” 

          “Niiiiiicee, Percy!” Leo hollered. “That’s my boy!”

          Frank retook the phone from Hazel and hastily gave an excuse to go before leaving the call and cutting off Hazel’s confused protests.

          “I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jason shook his head. “This is way beyond my level now. Piper and Annabeth are nearby I’ll go get them-.”

          “No!” Percy cut him off. That’s the last thing he wanted. The girl’s won’t know or care what to do so they’d ask Piper’s siblings and then the entirety of camp would know. “It doesn’t really change anything. I’m going to give her my number and then the ball’s in her court and I don’t have to worry about it.”

          “But your balls were in her court, weren’t they Percy.” 

          “Leo I am going to kill you when I get back to camp and that is a threat.”

          Leo left the call.

          “I’m sure it’ll be fine, just don’t do your game-time face because it’ll scare her off,” Jason tried to get the conversation back on track.

          “What face? I don’t have a scary face?” Percy added another item to the list of things to not do when he saw her.

          “Yes you do. It’s when you’re charging into battle but this isn’t battle is it Percy?” 

          “You’re lucky,” Percy lamented while he grabbed his backpack. “You just woke up and were already with Piper. All the hard work done for you.” 

          “You got this man, just be yourself.” 

          Percy decided to throw that particular bit of garbage advice away. 

          Now he was sitting in his seat, got there early, and he was even wearing his nice t-shirt, so what could go wrong.

          As soon as you walked in the door all of his carefully curated bravado deflated inside of him. You walked towards your shared table and he had to expel childish nerves he hadn’t felt in years. He’s in college now, for Hades’ sake. He was a man.

          “Hey,” you greeted as you sat down.

          “Hi.” That was stupid. Men don’t say ‘hi’. He should’ve said ‘hey’ back.

          “You’re here early,” you commented and Percy just nodded like an idiot. 

          The plan was to giver you his number as soon as he saw you, but he couldn’t just blurt that out of nowhere. 

          “How’ve you been?” 

          There. Establishing a conversation and definitely not stalling.

          “I’ve been good.” The small amused smile on your face calmed him down a little. He’s got this.

          Class started before he could slip his number in casually but Percy wasn’t deterred. He wasn’t going to let geology get in his way.

                    While you were reading the data you had to chart on the graph, you noticed Percy’s usual fidgeting get even worse. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you saw him concentrating intensely on the paper and trying to contain his frustration. You recognized the signs since one of your friends has dyslexia, but you knew he wouldn’t ask for help.

          “So we have to plot the points on the graph and then draw the elevation lines, right?” You asked casually, looking over to him for confirmation. He nodded his head, but still continued to squint at the numbers which all were very small print and close to each other.

         Muttering the numbers as if to yourself but loud enough for him to hear, you got to work. 

          Percy sat back and smiled a little, knowing what you were doing. He looked over at you, from your furrowed brow to your crossed legs bouncing with your tapping foot. With a contented sigh, he recalled what it felt like to be in between those legs. Having them wrapped around his hips while you moaned his name. 

          His eyes trailed up your body, memories that were attached to each part flooding through him like a highlight reel of his deepest fantasies. Then he got to your bare arms and the goosebumps on the skin shook him out of it.

          “Cold?” he asked, interrupting you trying to help him which he really should have been listening to. 

          “Yeah, a little.” 

          “Here.” Percy shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you before pausing (and slightly panicking.)

          Hold up, is this weird? Am I being weird right now? Should giving her my hoodie come before or after we exchange numbers? I guess doing it before could be a good test of whether she would be interested in exchanging numbers. But this is couple stuff. Her wearing my hoodie. That usually comes after numbers. But she’s cold now and I can’t seem like an asshole withholding warmth unless she accepts or declines my number. 

           Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice his panic as you took the hoodie from him without hesitation and put it on. “Thanks.”

          He calmed down as he watched you roll up the sleeves so that your hands were free to work and he felt a different kind of warmth spread through him. He liked the way you looked in his hoodie. 

          You caught him watching you and it threw you off. This wasn’t the heated gaze that had made you melt before, this was... softer. But the moment was ruined when you glanced down and saw that he hadn’t drawn a single point yet.

          “Hey,” you tapped your pencil on his paper. “Focus.”

          “Sorry.”

          You worked well together for a while. The rhythm of plotting points distracted Percy from his nerves. That is until he felt your hand on his forearm.

          “What’s this?” You asked, finger tracing the SPQR of his tattoo and making him shiver.

          “Oh, it’s a band.” 

          “What band?”

          “The Super Popular... Cool Rockers.”

          “They spell Cool with a Q?”

          “That’s what makes it cool.”

          “Ah.”

          Percy went back to the worksheet, congratulating himself on his quick thinking when he saw you pull out your phone. 

          “What are you doing?” he asked, totally nonchalant. 

          “Looking up the Super Popular Qool Rockers.”

          Percy snatched your phone. 

          “Oh, you won’t find them.” He dodged your attempts to grab it. “They’re really underground.”

          “You’ll be really underground if you don’t give me my phone back.” Percy hastily returned your phone, as if the threat scared him. You tried to glare at him, but found it too hard to suppress your smile once his broke out. “Thank you. Now will you tell me what it really means?”

          “Maybe one day.” People started packing their things and leaving since class had flown by faster than Percy liked. Sensing his window of opportunity closing he decided to Hades with it. “Depends if you go on a date with me.”

          You took your time standing up and gathering your things while pretending to mull it over in your head. Which Percy really did not appreciate. 

          “Maybe one day,” you answered him with a coquettish smile and took a few steps towards the door. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

          Percy was too concentrated on restraining a fist pump to puzzle out your meaning. 

          “We didn’t get much work done today, so we better finish what we started at your place.” You winked at him and strided out the door.

          With a mischievous grin, Percy was quick to follow. 

[fruitcoops]

So this is sort of similar to the people writing fanfic about the lions but can you imagine the YouTube edits? Like the videos that are just "Cap having heart eyes for Loops for 10 minutes straight" or "Loops lovingly dragging Caps name through the mud for 3 minutes" like those kinds of things and I can just imagine them doing reaction videos and it just being funny and the world just loving coops

Okay so this wasn't a specific fic request but I got carried away with imagining videos and....here you go. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Grace and Anna are mine! Bonus points to anyone who remembers the easter egg in this one!

Message From: Gracie

ANNA HOLY SHIT

Anna frowned at her phone screen, squinting to read around the spiderweb crack decorating the upper corner. She had tried to convince herself that it was cool, goth, edgy, but in the end she had to admit that it was just irritating. In a tragic turn of events, packing tape couldn’t fix everything.

Message To: Gracie

Wtf did I do

Two weeks of radio silence, then unexplained accusations. Anna shook her head as the grey bubble disappeared for a third time and turned back to her computer. Grace may have been her favorite cousin—and favorite person, if she was being honest—but very few things came between Anna and video editing. Especially editing for a Lions meme video. She had a whole 2,341 followers to attend to, after all.

Message From: Gracie

DID YOU SEE THE FUCKING INTERVIEW???

Message To: Gracie

Wow thank you so helpful

Message From: Gracie

Skip to 2:45 bestie

A link popped up just as Anna cut a segment from the sleep study video, where Loops’ heart eyes were in full effect. It was a rare, precious find for fan editors like herself.

“Come on,” she groaned. Maybe introducing Grace to the deepest parts of her hockey obsession was a mistake. But, really, what else was she supposed to do when she learned her cousin, who didn’t even live in Gryffindor, got to meet her favorite players just by chilling in a café? What kind of cosmic joke was that?

She narrowed her eyes at the embed of the link, then stifled a shriek. Impossible. How had she missed an upload?

As if on cue, her computer pinged with a new notification from the Lion Pride channel. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, scrambling to save her half-done video and pressing play.

The interviewer asked basic questions, ones she had heard the answers to a million times while curating her content. It always felt funny to hear people refer to Cap as ‘Sirius’—it was too official, too formal. She had spent countless hours on the compilations of his softer moments, and they were her most popular videos. Cap Having Heart Eyes for Loops for 10 Minutes Gay. Cap Being an Actual Puppy for Six and a Half Minutes. Everyone Wanting Cap Cuddles for Fifteen Minutes. Every Time Cap Smiles When Someone Mentions His Godson. The list was endless. She loved it.

She did a silent fist pump when she saw the interviewer had snagged both Cap and Loops; that would give her a whole new stream of workable content. If she was lucky, she could expand on her series of Loops Lovingly Roasting His Friends, part…fuck it, who was even counting anymore?

Anna was so caught up in her excitement that she nearly forgot about Grace’s suggestion. I’ve never skipped through a video on the first watch before, she thought hesitantly. But maybe just this once…

Her cursor hovered over the 2:45mark. She closed her eyes, and clicked it.

“—have you been adjusting to life as a celebrity?” the interviewer asked. Anna nearly rolled her eyes when Loops laughed. That question had been used far too often to be interesting anymore.

“It’s had its ups and downs,” Loops said with a smile. “Mostly, though, the fans have been incredible and just knocked my socks off with their support.”

“Really? What’s your favorite part of the Lions fanbase?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Their creativity, for sure. There was a video a while back where we reacted to some of the comments people left, and this person on Twitter made an absolutely beautiful collage of photos.”

“I have it saved to my phone,” Sirius added.

One more clip for the simp video. Anna made a note on the small corner space of her European History notes. The degree can wait for ten more minutes.

“Do you have a favorite creator?”

The interviewer was clearly teasing, but Loops’ smile was genuine. “I don’t know about a favorite, but there’s this person on YouTube who makes a shit ton of videos and they’re hysterical. I saw one the other day about—god, what was it again?”

“Every time I smile when people mention Harry,” Sirius answered around a laugh. “Can you blame me?”

Anna didn’t hear the next question. A ringing noise filled her ears as she sat, frozen, on her shitty dorm mattress and listened to her literal heroes talk about her dorky little channel. “Holy fuck,” she blurted after a moment of silence. “Holy fuck.”

“—subscribed?” The man’s voice snapped her back to reality.

“Of course I am!” Loops said. “You think I’m passing up a chance to watch a compilation of my friends making stupid decisions for the entire internet to see?”

A noise that would have been a shriek if Anna had any breath left in her body escaped her lungs; she clamped a hand over her mouth and shakily exited from the video before going to her YouTube account. 800 new notifications. 700 new followers in the last quarter hour. She was pretty sure she blacked out for a second from sheer shock and joy.

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

You’re famous!

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

I bet he knows your stuff better than he remembers me tbh

“They know me,” she whispered, staring at her computer. The unfinished video showed a perfect frame of Loops’ soft smile as he watched Cap get his toothbrush stuck in his pajama shirt. Somehow, the thought was both exhilarating and horrifying. What if they thought she was a creep? She wasn’t, not really, just a bored college student with not enough free time for a job but too much to keep herself busy with schoolwork. Her 2,341—no, 3,052—followers were just other hockey nerds looking for time to kill.

And the subject of those videos was one of her subscribers.

Anna slipped her headphones back on and began to edit like it was her last day on earth. Her fingers flew across the keyboard on muscle memory while her brain fizzed. Perfect, she thought. It has to be perfect.

In four hours, it was done. She sat back, panting, then hunched over again and began tapping out a title card.

Hello. Idk if anyone saw the new Lion Pride video today (linked below if anyone wants to see why I’m dying right now) but apparently Remus Lupin is subscribed to this channel and has been for a while.

Hi Loops. I’m Anna. You met my cousin once and she said she liked your sweater.

Now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy the next five minutes of our new rookie being the sappiest mf in existence (except for his fiancé). Mr. Lupin, please tell Hattie I say hello.

She pressed upload, peeled her headphones off, and collapsed backward on her bed.

Message To: Gracie

If I die here, tell the world I did it doing what I loved

Message From: Gracie

Will do

OH FUCK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THE SWEATER I SOUND LIKE A CREEP

Anna covered her itchy eyes with her forearm and settled in for a long, long nap. Her brain still needed to repair a few circuits.

[incorrect-koh-posts]

No, it's totally understandable of wanting to read something for your fave character when there is so little works or none at all. That's definetly not you being salty, I'm actually happy that you told this!

While Baldwin is highly popular, I myself am shocked that I liked a popular character. I normally tend to not like what everyone likes, Harry Potter series being one of them, or any song that's being jammed at every possible corner...

About the comment part, I actually expected the fandom to be dead completely. Then found your blog, spiralled into reading fics and seeing so many unfinished ones while being inspired to write was what made me start to write.

But the feedback was amazing, so many people commented how happy they were etc. And I dunno, I'm happy that people appreciate people and ehat they do instead of hurting or bullying them when that's all has been happening almost all the time

Well, I’m glad you see things this way. And I do agree with you here: As far as I can tell, the KoH fandom is a remarkably tolerant community. We don’t have much hate here (or any at all?) - even if we wanted to, we couldn’t even have a proper ship war because the only ship that’s actually canon (at least in the movie) is Balian x Sibylla, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single fic or fan art for that. 😂

So, in that regard at least, I suppose it is fortunate that most people in the fandom tend to like similar things, since that creates practically no negative tension. While the art tends to be a little more varied, in fics we see very similar premises and preferences (even if we include the little content that’s not solely about Baldwin). Most of the stories are basically along the lines of: "There's this sad little medieval meow meow that I like and I want him to have some happiness so I'm sending in my OC to make his life brighter". Hence, we end up with lots of whump / hurt & comfort and fix-it fics. 

Again, no shade to anyone - I enjoy that stuff too. Since we’re still such a small fandom, it is easy to curate our own experience here and make it, by and large, a positive one. So let’s all continue to be kind to one another, even though we may sometimes have different preferences or not see eye to eye on certain things. ❤

[atlafan]

Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

·        Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

·        At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

·        Cooking

·        Light cleaning

·        Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to jpwatson@gmail.com

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: jpwatson@gmail.com

From: hes2194@gmail.com

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

//

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: hes2194@gmail.com

From: jpwatson@gmail.com

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

//

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.  

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. “What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. “May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”