#here's to having no manager for three weeks
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I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.
"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.
"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."
I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.
"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.
Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."
Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.
"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."
Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins.
Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.
My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.
"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."
He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.
I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.
"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."
A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.
Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?
#mpreg#male pregnancy#mpregnancy#mpreg belly#mpreg birth#mpreg labor#mpreg kink#mpreg story#pregnant man#hombre embarazado#embarazo masculino#mpregdimension
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☀︎ Return of Happiness
genre -> fluff
pairing -> enha’s niki x reader
warnings -> idol au, mentions of getting married, niki teases mc slightly
word count -> 0.6k
summary -> meeting niki after a long tour
This plane ride back to Korea was longer than the three month long tour. Maybe it’s because during the tour you were too distracted by seeing all your fans, the new places and being splashed with water by your other members to really think about being in a different country from your boyfriend and friends.
It felt like it had been three days since you boarded, but looking at the time on your phone showed it had only been an hour and a half. You still had around eleven more to go until you reached Seoul’s airport and most likely another hour until you could get out of there if you were lucky.
Looking at the time again, you sigh when you see that only a minute has passed. Your leader, who sat next to you, placed their hand on your shoulder gently and rubbed their hand against it, comforting you.
“I know you want to go see him. You will once we land. The company always gives a few weeks break after a tour.” They whispers softly. “You can go to sleep and dream of giving Riki your gifts from every city we visited. I’ll wake you up an hour before we land.”
Sleep sounded good. Especially as an idol who often didn’t get enough sleep. But yet, your mind just couldn’t stop thinking. You thought of every concert, the outfits the fans war that sometimes rivaled yours when you were on stage, your members who were littered throughout the plane. You thought of Riki the most though. How sweet he was, how his humor always landed with everyone he met, how he was so much taller than you and treated you so gently, like a porcelain doll.
You started to drift off at the thought of him. Eventually your eyes shut and you fell asleep. Dreaming of Riki.
You woke to your leader tapping your shoulder. “Hey, we’ve landed. I tried to wake you at the hour mark but you didn’t want to.” They explain gently. Stretching as best as you can in those small spaces, you look around as everyone started to stand up and grab their packages. “Manager says that there’s a surprise out there.” They say standing from their seat to count where the rest of your members are currently.
“A surprise?” You ask. “Manager never surprises us.” Your leader nods in agreement. Waiting for everyone to clear out, you move in the aisle. Your leader following and grabbing both of your guys luggage’s. When the rest of your group eventually groups back up, you exit the plane while expressing your thanks to the flight attendants.
“Ok I was told we have wait here for manager.” The leader stops the group. You lean on your luggage, still tired and oblivious to the grins that your members are giving you.
Jolting up when you feel hands on your waist, you turn around thinking it was one of your members seeking revenge for you pouring a water bottle over them. Instead you turn and meet Riki.
“Hey jagi.” He says smiling while you stand there dumbfounded. “Wow I’m so hurt. Not even a hug.” He fake pouts. You snap out of your trance before lunging on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “Missed me that much didn’t you?” He teases as he gently kisses your temple. Hiding your face in his neck, you nod your head as best as you can. “Well don’t worry. Your manager said that I can sleep over tonight as long as the door is open.” He says against your skin before kissing it again.
“Got gifts for you in every city.” You mumble against his neck. “Wow stealing my ideas now huh? First it was my heart, then my ideas. What’s next, my last name?” He teases you again. You just shake your head in disbelief at his words. “Don’t worry Jagi. I’ll make sure to get your managers blessings before.”
#k-labels#kbookshelf#kpop x reader#enhypen x reader#riki nishimura x reader#kpop imagines#kpop reactions#kpop fluff#kpop x you#kpop fanfic#kpop x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen soft hours#enhypen x y/n#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enha x y/n#enha x you#enha x reader#enha imagines#enha soft hours#enha fluff#niki x reader#niki x y/n#niki x you#niki imagines#riki x y/n#riki x you#riki x reader#riki imagines
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noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis
✩ ✩ ✩
summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour
word count : 5.7k
part one here
a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx
masterlist <3333
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✩ ✩ ✩
Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better.
After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to.
Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.
She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London.
It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while.
While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off.
So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.
But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist.
It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat.
She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time.
As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.
Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather.
''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’
‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’
Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’
She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’
‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.
‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.
‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’
''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’
‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’
‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’
Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought.
‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’
Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’
The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory.
‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’
They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers.
''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’
Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days.
‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’
✩ ✩ ✩
A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.
After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots.
Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer.
It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them.
Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.
Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work.
As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.
The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.
Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space.
Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven.
It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did.
Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain.
She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.
She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect.
Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.
As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind.
Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot.
She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.
✩ ✩ ✩
Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.
She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up.
With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.
/
The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout.
The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back.
The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.
His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face.
‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’
Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’
She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’
‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed.
‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.
‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’
‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours.
‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’
‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her.
‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back.
A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact.
‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.
Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go.
‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’
‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’
Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’
‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’
‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’
And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous.
‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night.
Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person.
‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor.
‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’
‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’
‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest.
‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was.
"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’
‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’
Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’
‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’
‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.
‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.
‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’
‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words.
‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’
‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’
‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’
‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’
‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’
So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly.
‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.
‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.
‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked.
What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident.
‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’
‘’Hmm maybe.’’
‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’
‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement.
‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.
‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’
‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’
‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’
‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned.
‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.
The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in the morning to sort out admin for the cafe.
‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.
‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.
‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’
‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless.
‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’
‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed.
/
Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa.
Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night.
She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.
She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry.
Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it.
On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’
With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.
-
a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333
#w2s#wroetoshaw#w2s x reader#harry wroetoshaw#harry lewis#harry w2s#sidemen#w2s fic#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw imagine#wroetoshaw oneshot#hollytoshaw#chris md#arthurtv#sidemen x reader
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sharing some of my disorganized jojo musical thoughts now that ive had a week to sit on it and ive rewatched it several times over. i intended to wait to publish something like this until a subtitled version was available, but im not seeing any indication that thats happening any time soon so for now youll have to deal with my loose interpretations from my extremely rudimentary and rusty japanese… so take what i have to say about the finer points of characterization with a grain of salt. gratuitous spoilers below obviously, both for the original source material and the changes made in the stage production
my feelings are OVERWHELMINGLY positive. of course there are things i can criticize or that i would have personally done differently but oh man… i have literally not thought about anything besides this fucking show for a week. im 100% confident in saying this is a better adaptation of the source material than the tv anime. sorry to the davidpro staff, i respect their hard work and their love for jojo and their dedication to what is by any metric a pretty difficult property to adapt off of the page, but i dont know if i can ever forgive them for leaving half of the first episode’s storyboard on the cutting room floor in order to fit a standard half-hour tv slot, especially considering that what they cut is some of the really crucial character-building stuff. happily those scenes are not only reproduced in the stage version, some of them are expanded upon!
with the quick disclaimer that i’ve only managed to get my hands on the final 4/14 performance with shotaro arisawa and yoshihisa higashiyama, from what i’ve seen the casting is perfect. i’m sure there’s a rip of the 4/13 performance somewhere (i’ve seen clips) but i haven’t been able to find one… every single performer knocks it out of the fucking park, the cast chemistry is incredible and even the minor characters are loaded with charisma. and mamoru miyano… my god… mamoru miyano i owe you an apology. i was not familiar with your game. of course hes been killing it for decades at this point but i had soured on him a little bit recently because i felt like he was overcast in everything and i just didnt connect with his dnt reinhard at all, so when the casting was initially announced back in august i was underwhelmed, and of course my standards for the dio role in particular were astronomically high… i’ll go more into detail later in the post because i have so so many things to say about dio’s characterization here but mamoru miyano’s performance is like, life-changing. i had impossible expectations and he exceeded them.
sorry if im gushing. i am a hater by nature. its unusual for me to be so thoroughly pleased with something. im not even a musical theater guy. these are strange new feelings for me.
just to balance things out i’ll talk about a couple of the things that didn’t really work for me: first of all, the music is just ok. my initial draft of this post called the music “bad” but three additional viewings later i have warmed up to some of the songs. i don’t know if this is a shortcoming by dove attia as the composer or if it’s just me, as i said i’m not a musical guy and a lot of the genre conventions of musical theatre are not really the things i look for in music that i enjoy, but like… even at their worst they are serviceable. nothing here is sonically unpleasant to me. high points are “resolve of the ripple” (zeppeli’s hamon training song, a jazzy swing number - it’s simply catchy and fun to listen to) and the closer “phantom blood” (a sweeping ballad that reprises the earlier “light and darkness”/”golden spirit” leitmotifs into an epic duet between jonathan and dio as they join hands and walk off into the darkness together… made me cry! i wont lie! on every single one of my numerous viewings this one got me misty eyed!)
wait i forgot this is supposed to be the part where i’m being critical. ok my most loathed song in the musical is “dio’s world”. sorry dio nation. it doesn’t really work for me. i think this might be a case of my standards/expectations being too impossibly high because it’s not even really the worst song in the whole thing. and of course miyano eats it up so it’s not really his fault. i just find it kind of underwhelming… i find the melody a little grating, it’s kind of just a generic rock number, it’s just missing a particular je ne sais quoi…. the essence of dio isn’t there… lyrically though i am obsessed with the premise of dio recruiting his minions by selling himself as a kind of social revolutionary who is upending and inverting the brutal hierarchy of post-industrial victorian society with zombie blood magic. you win some you lose some.
the second sticking point for me is the costumes. they’re perfectly serviceable… adequate… but i mean when it comes to jojo “serviceable” and “adequate” costume design obviously falls well below what’s expected, right? a lot of the outfits have kind of a boxy, almost flat-looking kind of unflattering fit on the actors, which if i wanted to be generous i could attribute to the challenge of bridging the gap between these frail slender musical theater twinks and the two-meter-tall 250lb roided-out beefcakes theyre meant to be embodying. (bearing this discrepancy in mind a lot of the insane martial arts stuff in the second act doesn’t really land with the oomph that it should, but i also understand logistically why this kind of casting is not practical, and all things considered i think shotaro arisawa does a really incredible job of embodying jonathan joestar even though he kind of looks like i could snap him in half over my knee like a twig. he’s very cute. so i’m not mad about it.) of course, again, logistically, i understand that in a stage musical production, where actors only have minutes to complete costume changes, some sacrifices have to be made to the creative vision in the name of practicality. nevertheless this is jojos bizarre adventure!! i want to see some fucking baubles!!!!!!
which is all to say that… after carefully considering it for some weeks… i still have extremely mixed feelings about dio’s grink ass feather bathrobe look. it’s not that i dont think its something he could wear (the concept of dio lounging around in his gothic vampire palace doing re-animator style body horror experiments on the local wildlife in this “officer i have no idea what happened to my husband”-ass nightgown is nothing short of hysterical to me) but then he wears it into combat and i felt a little disappointed… it has the same unflattering fit issue as the other outfits in the show, and it is just such an un-araki-like design… where are the gaudy color combinations? the bizarre geometric patterns? the tease of an exposed boob/thigh/midriff? erina gets a stage-original dress design that i have fewer issues with because the excessive pleats and ruffles have more of an araki-esque sensibility, but every time i look at dio’s robe it feels like there’s something missing. i’m going to choose to be nice about it because it’s not at all a deal breaker and, again, mamoru miyano devours the look. it’s fine. it’s always fun to have a new dio outfit. if anything, the fact that the blu-rays are being marketed as “2024 cast version” gives me hope for the possibility of a future production with a new vision for the costume design. (although the fact that this was such a difficult production - with stunts and pyrotechnics and moving setpieces - that its entire first week was cancelled indicates to me that the prospects for a future production from a different company are impossibly slim. i guess there’s always hope?)
in terms of the writing and the changes that were made from the original narrative, honestly i don’t really have an issue with anything that was cut. sorry if there are any diehard stans of Poco’s Unnamed Sister out there who are steamed that their favorite minor late phantom blood character got the axe, i kind of understand how you feel because i’ve been malding over david pro cutting the Danny Lore for eleven years, but i think it was the right choice and the story flows so much better. the real juicy meat at the core of phantom blood as a narrative and the thing that brings it head and shoulders above so much of the rest of jjba is the character-driven drama - that deliciously pulpy victorian gothic family tragedy - and the relationship between jonathan and dio. the musical beefs up the character drama and slims down the action-driven second half by trimming out the extraneous battles. the only real downside i see to this is that the absence of tompetty and his prophecy makes zeppeli’s arc and death feel INSANELY abrupt, but tbf that’s not a deal breaker for me. sorry zeppeli. you were born to die.
okay. okay. i think 1500 words into the post is enough fucking around so let’s talk about the real reason why you and i both know we’re here
musical dio is SO fucking sad. he’s positively wretched, you guys. he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and forced to eat cement when he was six. he cries even more than he does in the source material and even when he’s not crying he frequently delivers his lines as though he is moments away from bursting into tears. back when the musical first opened i was snooping on the reactions on jpn twitter and one commenter said they could see miyano’s tears and snot from the nosebleeds even without opera glasses, a remark i initially assumed was hyperbole but that i now think probably was not. araki’s dio is certainly tortured and a deeply pathetic crybaby beneath all the cruelty and posturing, but changes in the musical and miyano’s embodiment of the character bring this pathos to the fore. he is literally haunted: dario’s ghost lingers, a manifestation of all of dio’s traumas and insecurities that emerges from the recesses of his memory to taunt him with the reminder that he will always be his father’s son, all the way up until the very minute that jonathan breaks down the door to his vampire lair. i am OBSESSED with this - not only for the obvious reason that i delight in dio’s suffering personally but also because kong kuwata is a delight and he fucking kills it every time. also lends itself to a category 10 leitmotif moment at the top of the second act when dio emerges from the charred ruins of the joestar estate singing dario’s theme and calling out to jonathan - if i had to pinpoint this is probably the moment when this musical stuck for me as the Real Deal. they Get It.
the first solo number in the show is dio’s disney princess I Want song (amazingly, simply titled “dio”) where he weeps for his late mother and his wretched lot in life, and then - in a creative decision that made me clap my hands and hoot and holler at my screen in real life - there is a reprise of this number (delivered, naturally, through tears) when dio is almost arrested for murder and decides to become a vampire instead. so there’s this amazing hopeful uplifting inspirational orchestral music accompanying the onstage action of dio ruthlessly slaying jonathan’s dad and then getting pumped full of lead by a bunch of cops. it is brilliant. 10/10 no notes. it’s moments like this that i think really sell the “softening” of dio in the stage version for me, even though i am historically Not A Fan of fanworks that take a similar angle - like, yes, he is sad, but specifically he is narcissistically obsessed with the spectacle of his own suffering, he is boiling over with bitterness and rage for everyone around him who (by his own estimation) could never hope to have suffered as much as he has. this sensitivity and self-pity he wallows in are not expressions of a guilty conscience or a desire to change - they’re entirely the opposite - every cruel and monstrous deed dio commits is always justified to himself because he is simply the saddest little boy who has ever existed. he has been done wrong by the world and so there is no limit to the depravity he may reasonably respond with. i’ve seen several commenters describe this as a drastically different interpretation of the character from araki’s dio (and someone told me on twitter that mamoru miyano himself has also said this, but i cba to go digging for an actual source so take it with a grain of salt?), but i… dont think thats the case! dio’s obsession with his own weakness and his self-perception as the eternal underdog (as compared to jonathan) are certainly more exaggerated in miyano’s performance, but i don’t think this is an angle to the character that’s been manufactured out of whole cloth. the genre conventions of the stage musical force the melodrama up to eleven and dio’s incredibly repressed angst is the most rich vein to mine for that. hair-trigger sadist dio is still here, it’s the same guy, he’s still killing people mercilessly, you’re just getting to see him sing a big ballad about his feelings instead of confining those to an internal monologue.
if anything, the exaggeration of dio’s pathetic/cowardly/crybaby traits combined with his megalomaniacal aspirations and bottomless well of cruelty is just right. it’s perfect. fucking around, finding out, and then trying to weasel his way out of the consequences with crocodile tears just so you don’t see him drawing his knife to cut you clean open… yeah. thats the stuff. thats my one true blorbo. sad to say i will love him for ten thousand years.
i think that might be all i have to say… or at least all i feel like saying here… most likely ill come back and edit this post later. i certainly have some additional thoughts and some more esoteric/controversial takes but they’re not suited for a public blog. real ones will understand. im keeping my eyes peeled for somebody to translate this thing but to be frank i am kind of enjoying this little corner of fandom as it is right now: just the asians and the true hardcore phantom blood phreaks. i have not had this much fun in jojo fandom in almost a fucking decade. as soon as somebody publishes an english version my timelines going to get flooded with all the most deeply annoying “kono dio da” “speedwagon waifu” reddit guys and 15 year olds and my suffering will proceed. unfortunately this is my lot in life and i am doomed to be here forever because dio put a worm in my brain
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Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.
AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?
So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.
Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.
Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.
Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.
Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.
My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.
The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.
My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.
I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.
So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.
They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.
I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.
My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.
My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.
I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.
So tumblr, aita?
(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)
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IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)
summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.
warnings: short and sweet! (none)
a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo
sneak peak | pinterest board
(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.)
It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.
It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.
Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.
To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze.
She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.
The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.
He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song.
The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view.
Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window.
In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.
He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.
What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.
She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.
Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.
That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.
He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.
He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck.
“Hi.”
His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs.
It was September.
“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”
“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.
She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.
No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.
The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.
Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.
“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.
What was that called? Heterochromia?
He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”
She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”
He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”
The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books.
She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some revision resources done early.”
Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.
She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.
He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.
He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.
He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie.
He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.
He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”
She sighed, “Can I tell you something?”
Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.
He nodded.
“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”
Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.
He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.
The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless.
When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”
She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”
Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.
He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”
She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”
Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”
“Natalia.”
“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.
“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”
Something clenched in his chest.
#sidney crosby x oc#sidney crosby fic#it's never over prologue#nhl fic#nhl series#sidney crosby imagine#sidney crosby oneshot#sidney crosby x reader
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You guys, I feel like I’m drowning. These past three weeks have felt unmanageable to me. Like, I don’t know how to keep going.
I’m walking alongside (trying the best I know how) the older girls as one navigates this break up and the other tries to transition to college. We got DD a car, but it still needs a few repairs. She was here all afternoon today working on it with DH.
I am waiting for the updated version of Ms. 6’s IEP to hit my inbox to send it off to the school. I am also working on her housing contract. Then I think I can step back for a few weeks. Still trying to figure out what’s going on with graduation. Her mom is back to letting her go to it and maybe allow her to stay for dinner, but it’s Memorial Day weekend and I don’t want to put a deposit down for a dinner somewhere only to have her not be allowed to attend at the last minute. I also don’t want to disappoint her. I’m unsure of how to proceed, so I’m just sort of frozen.
DS takes his civics test next week. You have to pass in order to graduate high school. He has prepared and seems like he will do well. He’s also pole vaulting and doing well at that for being a novice and having very little practice time due to the crummy weather we’ve been having.
Work is a lot right now. It’s to be expected due to the time of year. I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s a lot to slog through.
DH was verbally offered a job this week as a special education teacher. He is supposed to return to school to get his teaching certification in about a week, and is waiting for a letter of intent via email from the potential employer. It’s a lot. We are trying to manage the financial aid piece and we are up against a super tight deadline right now. His interview for the job was virtual, so he’s heading to the school next week to actually tour it and meet his potential coworkers. In the spirit of living in a small town, one of the women he used to live who was in live with him (for real)—the housing situation was work related—works at the school. She has legit not spoken to myself or DH since he and I got engaged so that seems like it will be super awkward (although she is also married now and has kids).
DH is finally seeing a decent therapist and between the therapist and neuropsych eval he had done during fall, it is apparent he is super depressed. Depressed is apparently his baseline and super depressed happens quite a bit. It is helpful to have it identified, but wow, it is a lot to live with. I am really struggling as his wife because he cannot do much and is not really emotionally available 90% of the time. He’s so inwardly focused, that he cannot focus on me, the kids, relationships, stuff that needs to be done, etc. I’m drowning and he cannot take on any of the workload. It sucks.
My endocrin had me take b12 supplements the last three months and my level actually decreased. I’m starting up with b12 injections next week. My TSH is also super, super low which means I’m hyperhyroid and should be losing weight, but I’m gaining which also sucks.
My endocrin is out of network for me which means my injections will be out of network. I have ZERO out of network benefits. The whole healthcare system is atrocious. I refuse to go back to the three endocrins I saw before I connected with my current one. They were all terrible, but in network. I need a super expensive full body scan but I for sure cannot pay for that out of pocket, so I’m waiting to see if my GP will prescribe it when I see him in June.
My crown also broke this week and when the dentist looked at it, I had worn a hole clear through the middle. He said it was due to grinding/stress. I wear a mouth guard religiously at night, so it’s happening during the day. :-/ Cue more medical bills. They glued my current one back on and can’t get me in to work on repair until June. I almost cried when trying to schedule with them because I just cannot even do all of this any more. (It also hurt wicked bad last time they fixed it so I’m somewhat terrified to return.)
That’s my list of complaints/brain dump. There’s more, but I need to wrap up some grading and get dinner going. I miss a life that was easier and less complicated.
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Come Home Poly Batboys x Female Reader
Note: This is part 2 of Let Her Go
Warnings: Language
Over the last few weeks, the letters from Azriel and Cassian had piled up in a basket by the door. They sat unopened and ignored as you gave yourself the time to process the events of that night. It was no surprise that Azriel had learned where you were living, not that you were trying to hide anyway. The gossip around you and your mates had only worsened since you left. You first tried therapy, but they only seemed to be interested in details about your mates and not what you needed to work through, so you quickly gave up. Instead, you turned to journaling as a way to get your emotions and thoughts out and somewhat organized.
You currently sat in your favorite chair with your journal in your lap as you wrote out your feelings for the day. A series of harsh knocks disrupted you, causing you to leave your journal on the end table. You were surprised to see Rhys standing at your doorstep. You're tempted to slam the door in his face, but think better of it. "What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously. "I want to talk to you." He says, his voice sounding rough. "We have nothing to talk about." You answer. "I think we both know that's not true. Please, y/n." He says with a certain sadness.
"You said everything you needed to say that night. You made it clear where I stand with you." You say as his words come flooding back to your mind. You move to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot. "Please, I'm only asking for a few minutes of your time and for you to listen." He says pleadingly. Your anger rises at his words. "Only asking for a few minutes of my time and for me to listen?! No, you're asking for so much more than that. You're asking for me to relive the worst night of my life. You're asking me to let you in and open wounds that's that haven't had a proper chance to heal because I'm drowning in it. I have no one to talk to while the three of you have each other. So, no, you're not only asking for my time and for me to listen!"
He at least has the decency to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't think-" he starts to say, but you interrupt him. "That's the problem, you don't think, especially when it comes to me. You only think about yourself and your court. You're an amazing high lord but a terrible mate." You say as you let the anger take over. "I think it's best if you leave." You tell him. "I'm sorry." He says brokenly as he turns away. Once the door shuts behind you, you crumple to the floor, allowing the pain and anger to consume you as you fall apart. You let all the hurt and anger flood the bond so they might finally realize what they've put you through.
You manage to force yourself out of bed two days later. You make breakfast before grabbing the paper from the doorstep. Your eyes widen at the headline. You throw on some clothes and quickly braid your hair before making your way into Velaris. You don't bother knocking and let yourself in. You practically run to Rhys's office where you find him along with Cassian and Azriel. They stare at you in surprise. "What do you think you're doing?!" You demand as you focus your attention on Rhys. "What needed to be done." He says. "No! You stepping down as high lord is the worst thing you could do for this court!" You respond angrily.
"But the best thing I could do for us! You're tired of coming second to my court. Well, this is the solution." He replies. "It's not the solution! It's you overreacting!" You shout. "You're not stepping down as high lord! If you do, I will disappear without a trace, and you will never see me again!" You shout. "There is just no winning with you. Is there?! No matter what I do, it isn't right!" Rhys shouts. "Why does everything have to be so black and white with you?! All I wanted was for you to respect my feelings and stop treating me as anything less than your mate!" You shout before you feel the warmth of Cassian's arm as he pulls you from the room while Azriel stops Rhys from following.
Cassian carries you to the bedroom and blocks the door before sitting you down. "What the hell, Cass?!" You ask. "You tell me!" He says as he crosses his arms. "What is it going to take for you to forgive us?!" He asks angrily as he runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Those months of silence you're punishing us for are bullshit. You didn't speak up either. You never once addressed it with us or the ones gossiping. We just assumed you were ignoring it like the rest of us. You share just as much blame in this as we do." He says before storming out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You sit on the oversized bed you all once shared. You run your fingers over the comforter. You curl up in the bed and allow a few tears to escape. You hold the pillow that smells of Azriel as you find comfort in it. You think about what Cassian said as you lay in silence. You zone out until a knock pulls you back to reality. Azriel opens the door, "is it ok if I come in?" He asks. He takes your silence as a yes and sits on the bed beside you. "Did you come to yell at me too?" You ask. "No, I brought you some tea and a muffin from your favorite bakery." He says.
"How did everything get so bad?" You ask, ignoring his offer. "A lot of things went left unsaid from all of us until it spiraled into something toxic." He says honestly. "Think we can ever get back to the way it was?" You ask. "Do you want to?" He questions in response. "I want it to be better." You answer honestly, "but I'm worried we won't be able to move past this." His shadows gently play with your hair, causing you to visibly relax. "All we can do is try." He says softly. "They hate me so much, though." You say as you choke back a sob. He wraps his arms around you, "Nobody hates you, princess. We all just need to calm down and discuss what needs to change moving forward." He says, always being the voice of reason to you.
#acotar#batboys#acotar fanfic#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#rhysand acotar#rhysand x reader#poly batboys#acotar angst
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Goll! Reader noticing something suspicious between Hades & Odin, till one day they overheard a bunch of commotions. Loki, Anubis & Apollo were joking about throwing a "surprise" baby shower (Odin's part Jotunn just like Loki is) or engagement party. Thor was raging about destroying the Bifröst & Poseidon was in the spa, contemplating on just why his big brother tapped THAT (Odin) out of anyone else. And it turns out Hades & Odin have been secretly together this whole time.
-Goll peeked around the corner, curious as to why Hades was visiting Odin once again for the nth time in weeks.
-She had been noticing the two of them acting a bit odd as of late, like they weren’t meeting to discuss business or anything like that, this was something else, but she could never get close enough to find out, as she didn’t want to risk getting in trouble.
-She stepped away, going to look for Brunnhilde, to see if her eldest sister knew anything before she heard loud laughter, Loki and Anubis, the two howling with laughter.
-After rushing towards the laughter, she peeked around the corner, finding Apollo there as well, holding a photograph, trying not to laugh as well.
-Loki, gasping for air, managed to stand, wiping a tear from his eye, “Oh man- I can’t believe it! We need to throw them an engagement party!”
-Goll’s eyes went wide, curious as to who was being engaged and she carefully snuck closer, the three gods paying her no mind, so they didn’t notice her. She managed to get close enough, climbing the nearby tree and her eyes went wide, seeing it was a photo of Odin and Hades having dinner together, looking so happy, like they were on a date.
-The three gods ran off while Goll was completely frozen in the tree, stunned by what she just saw, not fully believing it.
-About five minutes later she was shaken from her shock by Thor shouting out loudly, yelling that he was going to destroy the Bifrost so Hades couldn’t visit anymore.
-Goll was quick to scramble down, looking for Brunnhilde to help, as the three had spilled the beans and all of Valhalla knew.
-She ran by Apollo, who was on the phone with Poseidon, who was at the spa in his pantheon, “Why on earth would my perfect elder brother want something like that?”
-Goll kept her thoughts to herself, wanting to scold Poseidon for being so rude to her lord Odin, but she wasn’t going to risk anything as she found most of the Valkyries trying to calm Thor down while Loki and Anubis were on the ground, roaring with laughter, turning bright red from laughing so hard, as Thor believed this was just one of Loki’s pranks again.
-Goll was panicking, not sure on what to do before she heard a small ‘psst’ and she turned, seeing Hades and Odin peeking out from behind a corner.
-She hurried over and Hades gave her a small smile, “We’re going to sneak out of here until things cool off.” she nodded, and Odin ruffled her hair lightly before they took each other’s hands and headed off before anyone else saw them.
-Goll was holding her hands over her mouth, her face bright red, it really was true that they were dating!! She had to wonder what everyone’s reactions were going to be when they found out it was true!
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Kunsel says:
We should maybe have a stricter definition of what counts as "hacking", okay?
It was a slow day at work, and he decided to guess people's email passwords in 10 attempts.
How does it go?
YESSSSSSSSS
Pro tips: make your password long, that is the most important factor. Use a password manager, most of them have a free option. Adding complexity does help, but focus on length first. Size does matter here. Multi-factor authentication (MFA) also helps a lot.
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Kunsel: Zack, gimme your password!
Zack: ...
Kunsel: Come on man, I need it for something!
Zack: 😭😭😭 buddy I would, but I forgot it again 😭😭😭😭😭😭
Kunsel: Ok man, it's ok, let's look around your desk...here, under this pile of chip bags, I think i saw...yeah, here's the penguin toy...and yep, Password Penguin has "Zack'ss00p3rp4ssw0rd!" written on the bottom. Let's try it!
(it works)
Zack: THANK YOU KUNSEL I THOUGHT I'D LOST HIM AND I COULDN'T REMEMBER AND-
Kunsel: *wheeze* Zack let go, I need to breathe *wheeze*
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Kunsel tries to guess Roche's by typing it in.
M0t0rcycle!
ShinyDancer
Sh1n33D4nc3r!
He's in.
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Kunsel tries to guess Sephiroth's. On the 9th try, he gets it: Seph+Jenova4ever
Horrible things are uncovered along the way and now he needs to send Sephiroth some information very discreetly.
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Lazard. Kunsel knows better. He gives a few guesses, but decides to actually hack this.
He sets up a hash capturing tool over the internal network and waits for Lazard to log on. He does. Kunsel captures the hash and starts cracking it.
Three days later, the hash cracker has not worked and he has to give up on that.
Kunsel: Sir, I need to get into your email, will you please send me your password?
Lazard: Of course not, that is unsafe and against company policy. However, you're welcome to come to my office to perform any actions we both deem necessary.
Kunsel goes over and Lazard is using multifactor authentication, so just having the hash cracked wouldn't have worked anyway. He sets up a keylogger surreptitiously on Lazard's workstation while "performing updates" and showing Lazard new features in his email.
The things he captures with that keylogger:
* Numerous emails covering for boneheaded shit the SOLDIERs did.
* The letter "A" typed about a thousand times into a text file labeled "definitely not screams.txt".
* Moogle searches for "how to convince your employees to get therapy", "pasta recipes", "therapists near me", "child psychology for adults", "play therapy for adults", "cat psychology", and "shrimp pasta recipes".
* The password: &oh'ihiy_-8_gi"it"gi_ipkb0(-ur#3-@--LXS4ever--9(9;0(!08(098+pihjboigig(@ukopih
Then it is a simple matter of finding a zero-day race condition hack in the MFA software, timing things just right, and entering the password and hacked MFA key at the perfect moment.
Kunsel of course has pity on the man after seeing even more emails such as...
* Explaining to Roche that doing squats over his motorcycle makes it look like he's humping it, and it is making people uncomfortable.
* Asking Genesis to please not actually firaga the recruits this week, they don't need a lawsuit. No, it's not character building. No, even though it was part of his home training and Shinra sanctioned training a few years ago.
* Inviting Sephiroth over for shrimp pasta to discuss strategy.
* Asking Angeal to seek therapy so the others will follow his lead.
* Telling Zack that he could not have a therapy flamingo in the office. Even if it was a lawn ornament.
* Warning Hojo not to take Sephiroth this week.
* Warning Hollander not to take Genesis and Angeal this week.
* Reaming Heidegger out very politely for all his BS.
Kunsel logs out without doing anything. Lazard needs a break.
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Kunsel calls Angeal pretending to be the help desk. Angeal, a bit embarrassed over his upbringing and unsure because he feels unused to technology, eventually gives Kunsel the password: BanoraBoys123!
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Genesis' is guessed on the 7th try because Kunsel didn't want to bother typing in an entire stanza of Loveless with numbers instead of vowels.
1nf1n1t3_1n_myst3ry_1s_th3_g1ft_0f_th3_g0dd3ss__w3_s33k_1t_th7s_4nd_t4k3_t0_th3_sky_r1ppl3s...
He sends an email from Genesis inviting everyone to a Loveless recital on Tuesday. It backfires because several people, including Genesis, show up and have a great time.
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Kunsel tries Zack's little trooper friend next. He's a tough nut to crack. He won't pick up his PHS to get vished, won't click on Kunsel's phishing emails, and won't tell Zack or Kunsel his password.
Kunsel captures his hash and cracks it. It takes a full 24 hours, but he gets it in the end:
!1986fuck_this_shit
#ff7#sephiroth#zack fair#cloud strife#genesis rhapsodos#angeal hewley#lazard deusericus#die hojo die#kunsel#hackerman kunsel
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Babe. Hon. Child.
If you want to come into my DMs and pick a fight about defending Katara and women's rights...
Learn to read.
Copied from the reblog I assume you've come at me about (which I agreed with):
My own musings on the state of Katara's life with Aang:
We're both pro-Zutara here. Same team. But you seem to be operating under the notion that a woman that doesn't punch a time card five days a week must be a happy cog in the patriarchy's machine. So let me clear something up.
That Kataang marriage I mentioned?
She worked longer, harder hours outside the home than he did. Then she came home and did ALL the work for a family of six while he ran off to play. And he only spent time with the one kid who shared the same interests he had.
That Zutara partnership I recommend every girl hold out for?
He supports me in anything and everything I want to do with my life: Being present for our kids (three of whom have special needs). Going back to school. Pursuing my dream of being a published author. Taking care of myself because I've got a laundry list of chronic illnesses to manage. Starting my own business. And if I want a nine-to-five? He's all for it. He always backs me up. He always shares the load. And when he's home, he works even harder than I do. He may be the breadwinner, but he's always a dad first.
Now tell me, if you can, that the husband whose wife earns her own money must naturally hold her in higher regard. Tell me that her paycheck makes her more free.
Please do try to convince me that a woman who wants to watch her kids grow up and be there when they need her must lack ambition and self-respect. (To me, that seems like the kind of woman who gets excited at the notion of dying surrounded by her children and grandchildren and would never turn her back on people who need her. Not that that sounds like anyone relevant to the conversation…)
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I love being told one thing by one person and a completely different thing by another
#here's to having no manager for three weeks#and here's to hiring a new manager who has yet had no input on the topic and will invariably tell me a third independent thing#at least I'm employed#lilli liveblogs her sad existence
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HOWDY FOLKS I've not drawn very much as of late since. uhhhh. SEVERAL things happened. but one of them is because i went to a miniature painting convention this past weekend!
it was super fun! here's a couple minis i painted-- first one was just for fun and i want to make her into a character now, second one i did in a class on painting with limited palettes! i did that with only three different colors of paint!
#thee colors. three bottles! didn't even use black or white! it was just a really dark blue. a magenta. and a yellow#*three colors. not thee hdsjhssjhd#anyway other reasons i haven't drawn much is. the weekend before that i was helping a friend with stuff#we had to. put kiki down last monday. that was not fun#and kiki's health had been declining for weeks before then#and I've been super busy packing and going back and forth between my parents and my apartment ~3 hrs away#and preparing for school. so yeah it's been. pretty busy as of late! I've done little doodles#here and there#and I've managed to join the aggies a few times#but yeah. owudoshdjdgdjdhfjgj#OH NORMAL TAGGING STUFF I SHOULD DO THAT#miniature painting#miniatures#idk actually... what to tag.... oh well!#OH I ALSO HAVE ANOTHER MINI I PAINTED don't have a picture for it yet#and i started working on a fourth but didn't end up finishing it before the convention ended
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all bday illustrations! i feel like something changed in my art style but it's probably just the lineart (+ shading and lighting)
#don't you think it's wild how riku was still 17 when he was first introduced and now he's gonna be 19 this year.#like it's crazy man aimi just turned 17 and akio is still 17 as well DUDE STOP GETTING OLDER!!!#and asahi is gonna be 13.. omg...#fun fact about how time works in linagram: idk how it works in canongram but here the prisoners actually do get older#but i also see it like this: to them it feels like literal months or even years have passed. they're getting older. they're celebrating-#their bdays or other holidays. but when it comes to the outside world its probably been like three days or more. like maybe a week#so when or if they manage to come back i think their bodies will go back to their pre-milgram age. sort of like they went to an alternate-#reality in some way??#if you're wondering the only reason why i decided it won't be as long in the outside world is not bc of their families or friends#SOME OF THEM HAVE PETS. AND THEIR PETS LOVE THEM A LOT. NAOMI LIVES ALONE WITH HER CAT AND THERE'S NO ONE WHO CAN TAKE CARE OF HER#(maybe some family members but do we trust naomi's family. especially her mother)#casually dropping some lore in the tags and leaving byeeeee#👑prisoner 001: miyagawa akio👑#🌸prisoner 002: hanasaki aimi🌸#💔prisoner 003: ishizu shun 💔#🌿prisoner 004: chiba naomi🌿#🍓prisoner 005: sanada kei 🍓#💎prisoner 006: yoshioka eiko💎#🍬prisoner 007: yano asahi 🍬#🎀prisoner 008: maruyama yurika 🎀#🎸prisoner 009: kuroki riku 🎸#🎭prisoner 010: himura reina🎭
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I love food and cooking and eating but honestly this just makes me never want to eat again. It's so painful. It's exhausting. It's a constant worry and paranoia and everytime I think oh it'll never happen again it DOES and idek what to do because a food elimination diet would probably kill me for mental reasons alone like. FUCK. It's a clockwork of every few months I have a week or so like this and I just???? Can't figure out WHY
#tw disordered eating#i guess????#again a physical medical thing rather than ED#but just in case!!!#anyway its 1am i am lying here in so much pain unable tosleep#scheduling emails to go out to my boss#plus the THREE meetings i have to reschedule for tmrw#bc i am. indisposed#like none of them were super serious. two im not worried abt rescheduling#one is. well. it's cutting it close re professional deadlines#but ill manage. probably.#conference proposal due next sunday but only found out abt it last week#wanted to discuss with higher up colleague before i submitted
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goal: get my tits lopped off in time for my brother's wedding so i can wear a suit comfortably
subgoal: get my tits lopped off before halloween next year so i can dress as columbo
#🐻#did i ever post here about my embarrassing mistake?#i've been on t for about a year and a half#i inject .25mL every week#or at least that's what i thought i was doing#yeah so turns out i managed to forget in the week between my lesson and my first at home injection#because i've been reading my syringes wrong#i haven't been injecting .25#i've been injecting .25 of .1#yeah that's right#i've been injecting myself with 1/10th of the dose i should have been#now we know why my t levels were so low at ny check ins 😭#BUT TO BE FAIR TO MYSELF#i have had the most insanely stressful three years#TO THE POINT THAT I NOW HAVE A PSYCHIATRIC SERVICE DOG LETTER FROM MY THERAPIST#I'M STILL SCREAMING AT MYSELF THO
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