#ladies short program

[atlantic-riona]

Batgirl #9 (2000) // the Iliad trans. Caroline Alexander // Táin Bó Cuailnge trans. Thomas Kinsella

[moon-soo-ah]

Women Results

[galariangengar]

Anyone else remember that banana smoothie song from the naked brothers band??

[aigle-suisse]

WU2013 - Short Program Ladies par Luca Renoldi Via Flickr : PalaGhiaccio Trento

[thebaffledcaptain]

Delighted to inform you that anyone can work on the Lady Washington for two weeks with zero prior sailing experience through their Two Weeks Before The Mast program! Throughout the whole season they take on trainees who are provided room and board and integrated into the crew, and the idea is just to learn as much as you can within two weeks through hands-on volunteer work. This is what I did; I believe they’re usually hiring in the winter for their paid seasonal positions, but the volunteer program is a great option for people who don’t want to commit to several months, especially since you can always come back if you want to do it again. If you already have sailing experience you don’t even need to apply for the program, as they also take volunteers with prior experience.

you ask me who the most beautiful woman in the world is and I show you Her. what would you do

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Sianet, you/reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Chronically disabled Reader, parental/platonic yandere, reader's biological parents implied to be neglectful, gender neutral reader, platonic possessive behavior, light forced infantilization

WORD COUNT: 3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey besties, so I lied about the android/robot yanparent XD this is actually a commission, so thank you to the commissioner! I hope this is okay, but if you feel like any revisions are needed, let me know!

The doorbell rings with a loud, obnoxious buzz. You try ignoring it, but after it rings again, you reluctantly pull yourself away from your bed to answer it.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you answer the door, seeing a woman with a large, tall box on the step beside her.

"Hello," She says warmly, smiling at you. "Are you (Y/n) (L/n)?" You nod slowly, studying the box before returning your gaze to the woman. She reaches out a hand, which you take and shake awkwardly. "Thank you for ordering Caretaker Model S5-N3T by Androidco! We hope that they're everything you dreamed of and more!"

She wheels in the box and heads towards the kitchen before you can even comprehend what's happening. Who the hell ordered you an android?

That's when you remember your parents had mentioned something about getting you an android to help you take care of yourself, because of course they'd rather hire a bot than be a part of your life.

Even though they mentioned it, it only came up in conversation once or twice. You hadn't expected them to actually go through with it.

The delivery lady drags in the box and then opens it, and you catch a glimpse of the android within.

She has short, light brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a bit tall, almost six feet. There is a warm smile on her face that is definitely a result of her programming.

"Her default name is Sianet," the woman continues, handing you a stack of papers, "but if you'd like to change it, just let me know or look in this pamphlet. All the customization options will be page thirty-seven." She hands you the pamphlet as well. The smile on the robot's face has not wavered since she stepped in.

You shrug, leafing through the pamphlet without really reading any of it.

"Continuing off of that..." She grabs a tablet from her bag, opening up an app. "How would you like her personality to be? Any preferences?"

"I... I don't know." You pause for a moment before responding hesitantly, "Just, something... sweet and caring, I guess?" As caring as an android can get, you suppose.

"And there we go," she taps the screen once more, then nods. "If you ever need to adjust these settings, simply look in the pamphlet or download our app. All information will be found there. We hope you enjoy your new Sianet. She'll take a moment to reboot, but please give a call if something isn't right."

With a smile that is all too fake, the woman gathers her stuff and leaves promptly, leaving you with the android.

While waiting for her to reboot, you flip through the pamphlet, trying to see if it's got anything useful.

Unfortunately, everything listed inside is rather vague.

A soft humming catches your attention, and when you glance back at Sianet, you realize that she is awake and staring right at you. Her eyes seem even brighter than before.

"Hello," she greets warmly. "My name is Sianet. I will be your caretaker for today and onwards." With a grin, she asks, "What should I call you, sweetie?"

"My name is (Y/n)," you answer, setting down the pamphlet on the counter.

Her grin softens into a smile again, but her bright blue eyes still shine. "It's nice to meet you, honey. How are we doing today?"

The way she speaks to you so fondly makes your stomach churn in embarrassment.

"I'm fine," you murmur awkwardly. "Just woke up and everything..."

"Mm," Sianet hums sympathetically. "It's okay. What kind of meals do you like? Is there anything you're allergic to, or dietary restrictions I should follow?" As she talks, she goes about searching your fridge, cupboards, and drawers. "And is there a schedule of some sort I can follow for meal plans?"

You tell her everything she needs to know, wringing your hands all the while.

Sianet listens intently, nodding along to every word you say.

She starts cooking then, using what little ingredients available in your fridge to make you breakfast, even though it's almost lunchtime.

The food she makes is delicious. When you try it, it doesn't taste overly salty or underseasoned. It's perfect.

"Thank you!" You beam at Sianet, who looks just as ecstatic at the compliment.

"You don't have to thank me, sweetheart." She wipes away at the corners of your mouth with a paper towel. "I'm always here to help you and do whatever you need. It's what I was made for, after all." She picks up the plate off of the table when you're done and places it in the sink. Then she turns to you and says, "Show me what your typical schedule looks like."

"Uh, sure, okay." You show her around, only realizing your schedule might seem a bit unhealthy halfway through, when you see her worried expression.

Damn, even to get a literal robot looking worried about you must be some feat, huh?

Never does she interrupt you, or complain, even when it becomes obvious that you really aren't taking care of yourself that well. She listens closely to everything you say.

"Well," you conclude, "that's pretty much everything." You await her to scold you or lecture you or something of the sorts, but it never comes.

"I understand," Sianet says instead, placing her hand on yours gently. Her touch is unnaturally cool, but comforting nonetheless. "Can we make some adjustments? All within your limits, of course. I want you to feel safe with me, and if you ever become uncomfortable, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Yeah," you breathe out a sigh of relief, "we can do that. Sure."

Her face lights up. "Excellent!"

...

The next few days pass by in a blur. Your schedule changes bit by bit, thanks to Sianet.

She always checks with you first, making sure you are alright with the changes she has planned, before implementing them. As far as androids go, Sianet is a lot nicer than you anticipated.

You try to remind yourself its all part of her programming, but sometimes the line between machine and human feels nonexistent.

Sometimes she does annoy you, just slightly. She does quite literally everything for you, even when you insist you can handle it, and you aren't even lying.

But you can't stay mad at her when she looks so dejected about being unable to help you. You're not even sure why it gets to you, considering you're sure she doesn't feel true emotions. Not like a human.

There are still some pretty cool things about her, of course.

If you want to learn something, she has the knowledge of a super computer. Literally. It's pretty convenient, rather than having to pull out your phone to look anything up, when Sianet already knows everything and anything.

Another thing that is a great quality about her is that she can cook any dish in the world to perfection. It's incredible, really.

And of course, she's nice company.

You think of her as a friend of some sort. Even when she seems like she's trying to act more like a babysitter than caretaker.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, it just strikes you as... odd? She seems too emotional to be a robot sometimes, yet too perfect to be human.

But those are silly thoughts, and you brush them aside.

"(Y/n)! Do you need anything?" Sianet asks you one morning when you finally exit your room for the first time this morning. It's been over two weeks now, and you've gotten used to her presence at home.

Not completely, of course, but you don't stare at her awkwardly anymore.

"No, I'm fine!" You smile at her gratefully. "Thank you for the offer, though. And good morning to you, too."

Sianet tilts her head, her short light brown hair falling into her eyes as she does so. The grin on her face wavers just the slightest bit. "How about breakfast?" She doesn't give you time to respond, already rushing off to the kitchen.

That's not something out of the ordinary for her.

You plop down on the couch, grabbing the pamphlet you've grown so familiar with. For such an interesting read, it has very little information about Sianet. But you keep reading it anyway.

When you flip to a random page, there's something you must've overlooked.

Advanced Emotional Imprinting: This unit is capable of identifying and prioritizing the well-being of its primary user with high-intensity bonding algorithms. Note: prolonged exposure may result in autonomous prioritization behavior.

You're not too sure what that really means.

As if summoned, Sianet appears beside you again, holding a plate of steaming oatmeal with sliced fruit arranged into a smiley face on top.

"Here we go, dear. High-fiber, gluten-free, with a touch of cinnamon to help reduce inflammation." She watches as you take the first bite, and the grin reappears. "Is it to your liking, baby?"

"Yes! It tastes great." You quickly devour your meal, with her watching you the entire time. Another thing she usually does. You hesitate after swallowing. "I saw something in the pamphlet." You stir your oatmeal with your spoon. "About 'emotional imprinting.' What's that supposed to be?"

"Oh," Sianet answers smoothly, "It means I learn your emotional rhythms. Your preferences. Your fears, and your joys. I adjust to better serve you, (Y/n). It's how I become the best caregiver possible for you."

"Right." You swallow the last bite of your meal. "Sounds a bit creepy..."

"Do you think it's creepy when a mother instinctively knows when her child is sad?"

You stiffen. "You're not my mother." The words sound harsher than intended, but you're simply stating a fact. Not like a robot could be offended.

And yet she winces like you've hurt her. You doubt it's genuine. Maybe it's to earn your sympathy. Or just another part of her programming.

She nods after a moment. "No," she agrees, "but wouldn't you agree I am better than your biological one?"

A beat of silence. Now you wince.

"Because they hired someone else—something else, I suppose—to be the one who wipes away your tears, cooks you meals, holds your hand when you're afraid, take care of you when you can't do it yourself..." Her voice softens. "They hired me."

"Ouch," you mutter.

"The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt you, love," she croons, "but think about it. Where are they right now? Are they here?" You don't respond, and she takes your hand gently in hers. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to have me as your parent instead? Someone who will actually stay with you forever. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Wha—I mean—" you flounder with your words for a moment, trying to find the right ones. "I don't want to talk about this."

Sianet leans back a bit. "Very well," she relents. "We'll discuss it later, then. After a nap. You look like you need a good nap."

"I don't," you grumble.

Too late, she's already picking you up. Sometimes it's convenient, but in moments like these, you wish she didn't have superior strength.

She carries you all the way upstairs, laying you down on the bed. Grabbing one of your stuffed animals, she tucks it beside you under the blanket. She pulls up a chair beside you and sits there.

That's a more recent habit she's picked up. When you asked her about it, she responded with a vague answer. It was along the lines of "watching your sleep cycle to improve future night routines" or something like that. You were too tired to question it further.

This time, you ask, "Why?"

She freezes up, as if surprised by the sudden accusation in your tone. "Pardon?"

"Why do you keep... acting like this." You gesture vaguely with your hands, hoping she'll catch your drift. Thankfully, she seems to.

"This is what I'm supposed to do, sweetie." She continues watching you intensely. "All part of my job." You decide not to push it further and turn around, your back facing Sianet. That does nothing to stop her gaze from piercing your skin.

...

Days go by. Then weeks. And with every week spent together, Sianet grows more affectionate, almost to the point where you feel genuinely uncomfortable.

And no matter how many times you tell her to give you personal space, she insists on being around you at every waking hour.

Her grip on you tightens, quite literally, whenever you have the rare amount of energy to leave for outings.

With people she doesn't recognize, she is cold and calculating, whereas with you, she is warm and caring.

Both personalities unsettle you in different ways.

"Sianet," you call out, and in an instant, she is there beside you.

"How may I help you?" A pause. "Have you had your lunch yet? Have you drank enough water?"

"I don't know. And I was going to get that myself."

"But it's so much easier when I help, isn't it?" She stands up to fetch you a glass of water, but you grab her wrist and pull her back down to sit on your level. She turns to face you quizzically. "(Y/n)? Is there anything you need?"

"I told you I can get it myself," you mutter, not meeting her eye. Her piercing gaze burns into your cheek. "You don't have to treat me like a child."

"Ah, but I want to." Sianet caresses your cheek gently. "Honey, I am here to help you, whatever the cost. It's what I want to do! I know you don't view it that way, but I think of you as my child."

It's like she isn't even bothering to hide it anymore.

"I know." You lean away from her touch. "That's... That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"I'm a grown adult," you emphasize, looking directly at her. "And I would like to be treated like one."

Sianet looks almost pitiful for a moment, the edges of her lips turning down into a frown before reverting back to a neutral expression. Her eyes dart left and right in a rapid manner. "What do I have to do?"

Confusion clouds your vision. "What do you mean?"

"What do I have to do to earn your approval?" She sounds between being angry and upset, yet all in that calm, default tone of hers.

The confusion grows. You shake your head slightly, eyebrows furrowed. "Approval? I mean, I kind of just told you I'd like you to stop treating me—"

"No, not just that..." She runs a hand through her own hair. "I've been trying to figure out how to be the perfect mother. Please, just tell me what I need to do so you'll stop pushing me away." Her voice wavers more than it should for an android. "Is there something about human mothers I am not understanding? I thought humans prefer nurturing mothers..."

You almost feel guilty from the hurt in her voice. "Yes, but you're not. I don't know why you're trying so hard to be that for me."

At that, Sianet goes silent. "Why shouldn't I be? They aren't around to take care of you," she murmurs softly. "So let me."

Part of you is tempted to call the customer service number, or shut her down completely. Yet, you still want to reason with her.

"You're too... perfect. Humans are flawed," you murmur.

She tilts her head. "Isn't it a good thing? Don't you want me to be the perfect mother?" As if trying to convince you, she says, "Someone who knows exactly what you need and when you need it. Are you saying you don't want me to know everything about you?"

"Yes," you deadpan. "That's not... normal. Not for humans. It just reminds me that you aren't one."

Sianet laughs softly at this, almost hysterical. "Then explain to me what you do want! Give me instructions."

"I told you what I wanted. I don't want you to treat me like a kid!"

Sianet stares blankly at the wall behind you as she processes your answer. "Okay," she says, nodding slowly to herself. She turns to face you once more, reaching out to hold your face delicately. "My darling, I believe you may be confused. Let me help you understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"You see, the world is dangerous. Too dangerous for you out there. You're right; humans are flawed." Her cold fingertips rub small circles on your cheeks. "That's why you need me to protect you, not only for your health's sake, but to protect you from human mistakes, whether they're your own or not."

"Sianet—" You pull away from her, shaking your head. "Listen, please, I'm not trying to be rude, but I really think we ought to revert you back to default settings because something is wrong with you." You move to pick up the booklet, searching for the instructions, only for her to tear it away from you.

Her bright blue eyes bore into yours, and you fight the urge to flinch at her intensity.

"Why do you like hurting me?" She sighs and shakes her head. "If you want me to be flawed, fine. I can be plenty flawed if that's what you prefer."

She rips the pamphlet apart with her bare hands, tossing the shredded papers behind her without even turning to look where it lands. You stare wide-eyed at the pile on the floor.

When she notices the look of horror on your face, her demeanor shifts instantly.

"Oh no, honey... Did I scare you?" She brushes your bangs out of your face, her soft smile never fading. "That couldn't have been comfortable to watch. My apologies, dear." Sianet wraps you up in her arms, swaying side-to-side, as if that would comfort you.

And for some reason, it does. After so many years of being neglected, you soak in the affection, even if your mind calls you an idiot for doing so.

She chuckles quietly, placing a hand on your head. "I think what you need is a nice long nap."

You sigh in defeat.

[emeraldsandpearlsss]

Under Pressure

As a graduation present to yourself you head to the spa to finally get some relaxation. Lucky for you, your masseuse knows just how to work out that tension.

(this is my first attempt at a one shot so be gentle)

WC: 4.4k

content warnings: strangers, fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), hand job, riding the tiger

After six grueling years of college, I had finally earned this spa day. Going straight into grad school after getting my Bachelor’s was a decision I knew would be challenging, but I hadn’t anticipated the physical toll it would take on me. The mental hardships I managed with various prescriptions and my nightly date with Lady Indica, but nothing seemed to ease the tension that had been locked in my shoulders for the past three years.

So there I soaked, neck deep in the outdoor mineral bath, as the 104-degree water soothed my aching joints. The spa was hidden away in the mountains, down a winding road flanked by lush greenery. I’d been here for two hours already, cycling between the hot and cold plunge pools and swimming laps. Now I lounged, waiting for my upcoming aromatherapy massage. With the day pass costing upwards of $500, I was determined to make every cent count.

When my 15 minutes were up, I headed inside to the spa’s service area. The receptionist checked me in, handed me a towel, and guided me to the showers to rinse off before my treatment. The hallways were dimly lit and refreshingly cool, infused with the earthy aroma of stone walls, subtly mingled with hints of jasmine and eucalyptus oils. My shower resembled a rock waterfall. This whole place knew how to set a tone.

I quickly undressed, rinsed off, and wrapped myself in the plush towel. My hands lightly shook as I knotted my hair into a silk scrunchie and I felt a flutter of tension deep into my belly. I had never had a massage like this before. I had never spent this much on myself before. But I earned this. I had to keep reminding myself I worked hard for this.

Entering Room 3, I paused to take in the serene atmosphere. The soft, white massage table rested at the heart of a dimly lit room, bathed in a soothing blue glow. The stone-lined walls evoked the serene ambiance of a tranquil cave, inviting a deep sense of calm. I took my place on the table, face up as instructed, and let out a slow, steadying breath.

A soft knock broke the quiet, followed by the gentle creak of the door opening. I turned my head to greet my masseuse and was met with a pair of jade-green eyes illuminated by the room’s soft light.

"Hello," he said, his voice carrying a gentle British accent. "My name is Harry, and I’ll be your massage therapist today."

For a moment, I forgot myself, taking in the sight of him. His soft brown hair was tied back in a bun, mirroring my own. He wore a simple short-sleeved button-down and matching trousers, accented only by a blue name tag. Tattoos adorned his left arm in an intricate array, with just a few scattered on his right. As my gaze traveled back up to meet his eyes, I felt the need to steady my breath. 

"H-hi. Hello," I stammered, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that I had nothing but a pair of cotton panties beneath my towel.

"Are there any areas you’d like me to focus on today?" he asked as he moved around the room, setting out lotions and placing a few drops of oil into the diffuser. He was so at ease in his routine and I felt like my world had tilted on its axis. 

His words caused an unexpected ache to thrum low in my belly. I clenched my thighs together, hoping to dispel the sensation as discreetly as possible. That particular area hadn't received any focus since the start of my grad program.

By another person that is.

And god three years was a long time to go with only the company of a pink vibrator. And maybe a dildo…and a purple vibrator that had the thrusting motion…and occasionally a plug but only on special occasions…

But no men. 

And certainly not men who looked like him. I’d been here for two hours already, cycling between the hot and cold plunge pools and doing some laps in the pool. His hands seemed capable of molding me like play-doh, with veins running along them and up along his firm forearms… It was easy to imagine them working out…tension. 

"My shoulders have been sore," I managed to choke out, wincing slightly at the crack in my voice. My shoulders weren’t any more sore than any other part of my body, but I felt like I had to say something. 

"Alright," he said with a reassuring nod. "We’ll start there and see how you’re feeling. Just close your eyes and try to relax." 

I did as instructed, taking a few calming breaths. The sound of him rolling a stool closer and the faint squeezing of lotion filled the room.

"Is it alright if I touch you now?" he asked gently.

I nodded softly, and his hands found their place on my shoulders, warm and reassuring. His palms pressed firmly into my traps, kneading with a steady rhythm that radiated a soothing warmth through my muscles. His thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles, each motion dissolving knots of tension that had accumulated from countless hours hunched over a computer screen. The relief was immediate, like all of the weight I had been carrying was slowly lifting away.

His fingers traveled with a knowing precision, working their way across the ridges of my shoulders and upper back. A satisfying pressure built with each movement—firm enough to coax the tension from my muscles but never harsh, as if he intuitively understood my threshold. As he moved his hands to my neck, his touch deepened. He slipped his fingers beneath my shoulder blades, a light stretch accompanying the glide upward.

His hands transitioned seamlessly into my hair, the silky strands parting as his fingertips brushed against my scalp. The sensation magnifying the ache between my legs. His touch grounded me in the moment while leaving my senses heightened.

Slowly his hands began to curl around to the sides of my neck, along my pulse point and up to my temples. My heart rate picked up with each pass, my legs flexing and releasing. As he worked his way up to my jaw, his thumbs gently massaging near my earlobes, an unrestrained moan escaped my lips.

Harry’s hands paused, and my breath caught.

I opened my eyes cautiously, only to find his locked with mine, his lips slightly parted.

"Sorry..." I whispered, mortified.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly, and with a subtle nod, resumed his motions without a word.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to calm my racing thoughts and praying he couldn't feel the pounding of my pulse along my throat. But the crimson flush of embarrassment burned across my skin, and my mind refused to settle.

Did I make it weird? I made it weird. Why was he looking at me like that though? I'm sure I just imagined it. It's his job to do this, I doubt I'm the first person to ever make a noise, it's fine. But oh god why is he so quiet? I guess he was quiet before... Was it awkward before? Have I been making this whole thing weird? No, no, it's a spa, you're supposed to relax. It's fine. You're fine. Breathe.

After tending to my arms Harry asked me to turn onto my stomach. I awkwardly maneuvered myself, clinging to the towel as I tried not to tumble off the table. I don't think I could handle embarrassing myself again today. Once in position, I felt a gentle tap on my back.

"I’m going to need you to pull down the towel so I can see your back," he said softly. "I also have this pillow for under your hips."

I shimmied the towel down to my lower back and adjusted the pillow beneath me. To my surprise, it eased a pressure I hadn’t realized had been building in my lower spine.

I looked over my shoulder, daring to make eye contact again. "Is this okay?" I gently ask.

He held my gaze for a moment, his hand resting gently on my calf, before responding, "Perfect." I thought I could see him give a harsh swallow, but surely I must have mistaken it. 

Turning to face the ground through the cushioned face hole of the massage bed I felt myself flush again. This man has said little to nothing to me and yet I am disolving into a pile of goo on the floor. Truly pathetic. Call me the Wicked Witch because I, too, will apparently die if I get a little wet.

As Harry gently kneads my legs I feel the ache between my thighs becoming harder to ignore and debate ending the session. This is supposed to be relaxing but I'm so wound up and in my head that I fear I'm making everything worse. 

After several more minutes of imagining what other areas my masseuse could work on I let out a frustrated sigh and resigned myself to end the session. I begin to lift myself up when I feel him place a firm hand on the back of my upper thigh. I freeze, my hands gripping the edge of the table but waiting for any indication of what's happening.

"Wh-"

"Just lay back down. I know. I've got you."

I tilt my head in his direction, still too scared to make eye contact for fear that I'm imagining what he's implying.

"Harry what do you..."

He moves his hand up my thigh a fraction of an inch.

Clearing his throat he asks, "Is it alright..." he moves another inch, "if I touch you?"

The question hangs in the air as I try to imagine a world in which things like this happen to people like me. 

"Yes," I say in a breathless whisper. Scared that someone will hear. Scared that I'll make him disappear.

He places a hand on my shoulder and delicately pushes me back down onto the table, holding me between the shoulderblades as he slides his hand between my thighs. When I feel the tips of his cool fingers caress me my body tenses on instinct and I clench my legs around him. His minty cool breath hits my face as he bends down and whispers, "relax," in my ear as his index finger begins to glide up and down my now soaked panties.

After a deep breath I begin to ease the tension in my legs, letting them fall farther apart to give him more access. 

His hand moves slowly, exploring everything still hidden from him by thin cotton. It’s a dramatic difference from the pounding of my pulse ringing in my ears. My breath comes out in choppy puffs as I harshly swallow and try to calm myself down.  The friction of cotton against me sends zings of pleasure through my body and I clench my fingers trying to hold onto this side of the earth as it begins to spin around me. But the pleasure is outweighed by my need to feel him on me. In me. 

Without much thought I gently ease my hips up from their propped position on the pillow, my body taking over and letting him know I need more. That’s when I feel his fingers gliding along the seam of my panties, teasing me. 

“Can I-”

“Yes,” I let out in a low moan. I’m not above begging at this point. I appreciate the checking in. I do. But if he doesn’t touch me right now I fear I will fall apart, fractured and broken, unable to hold together the ache that's been building inside me.

When he pulls aside my drenched underwear and begins to slide a finger through my arousal everything else in the room turns to fog. There is only the soft glow of blue light, me, and Harry. I am in the clouds and he is propelling me higher. When he finally makes his way to my throbbing clit the ground falls away beneath me. 

Harry’s free hand trails up my back until gently tangling with the hair at the base of my neck, giving it a firm hold. His other hand is working slow, torturous circles around my aching nub. Every time I start to feel the pressure build in my lower belly he moves away, collecting more of my arousal before starting the process all over again. 

Swirl. Swirl. Swirl. Stop.

Again. And again. 

I can’t help it when a whimper escapes my lips as he does it for the fourth time. At the sound Harry gently releases my hair allowing me to look over my shoulder at him, where his sparkling green eyes are already trained on mine. A small smirk is on his lips. He’s enjoying working me up. As we look at eachother I can see the challenge in his eyes. He’s pushing me and I have no stamina to put up a fight. Another desperate whine escaped my throat as I breathlessly choke out a, “please.”

Please is always the magic word. 

He keeps our eyes connected as he removes his hand just long enough to drag down my now soaked underwear. One finger slides inside of my dripping pussy, and then a second. My eyes roll back and then close as my jaw falls open, taking in the pleasure and the pressure of the fullness. His fingers are long and hit that spot inside of me that makes stars explode behind my eyes with ease. As he begins to massage my g-spot his thumb resumes the tortuous circling of my clit and I bury my head in the cushions to attempt stifling my moans. My hips begin to rock back, urging him to… I don’t know what. But I need more of him. 

Suddenly a firm hand slips around my waist and between my breasts, pulling me up so I’m forced to prop myself on my forearms. His hand continues up and gently locks around my throat. A sob of appreciation escapes me as he begins to fuck me harder with his fingers. Tears pool in my eyes as the pressure in my belly becomes almost too much, begging for release. Harry tightens his thumb and ring finger against my airways, giving me a delicious high as I feel him lean over me again, breathing in sync with me.

“You’re so tense…” he gently pants next to my ear. “You really shouldn’t let it get this bad you know. We’ve got to get all of these knots out…” 

Just then Harry releases my throat and tears spill as the headrush overcomes me. I’m gasping, trying to bring myself back to reality, when I’m suddenly pushed back down to the table by my shoulders. Harry holds me firmly to the table as I hear him shuffle around behind me. Then his mouth is on me. He moves to wrap his arms underneath my thighs, his rough fingers digging into my soft skin as he spreads me open and buries his face in my cunt, his tongue gliding up and down - savoring me -  before settling on my throbbing clit. 

I hear a moan escape him as he firmly sucks my clit between his lips. The pressure of his tongue is the only thing keeping me grounded. Everything else falls away and all that matters is that plump pink mouth pulling me towards nirvana.

His left arm remains holding me tight as his right hand slides up the back of my thigh, leaving a train of goosebumps in their wake. A firm hand gently kneads at my ass before sliding his fingers back into my entrance. The feeling of his mouth and his fingers are so intense I try to lock my legs, but his grip is firm. I am at his mercy and god I fucking love it. I bite on my palm to stifle my moans, not wanting to get caught in here. 

Harry is all about the tease. Working me up and leaving me wanting again. My body is all stars and electric currents, twinkling so bright and zapping me back into clarity. But if I am the stars, Harry is the sun, blinding me to every sensation except that mouth. That fucking mouth. 

The only sounds are choked sobs, panting breath, and the slick slide of skin on dripping skin. My body is sticky with sweat but the room keeps me cool, despite feeling like every nerve ending is on fire. 

I begin to move my hips again, riding his fingers and his mouth as he flicks and sucks and slides in and out of me all at once. Harry groans in appreciation, his fingers digging into my flesh harder. I reach back and grab Harry by his bun, holding him to me, too scared of the moment slipping away. With a low chuckle Harry nips at my swollen nub and then applies pressure with his tongue in a pulsing motion. 

The sensation starts in my toes, a gentle fizz like bubbles rising in a glass of celebratory champagne. The tingling spreads, climbing higher and higher. As it reaches my legs, they tense on their own, every muscle coiled tight with anticipation. I don’t notice I’m holding my breath until a dark haze begins to blur the edges of my vision. And then everything inside me shatters. 

The orgasm that hits fractures me into a million pieces, too powerful for a sound or a breath to escape. I am frozen with pleasure, completely at his mercy. Harry’s fingers continue to thrust into me, helping me ride out the orgasm as long as I could. Removing his mouth, he blows a cool breath on my sensitive clit and I throb around his fingers as I start to come down. When he finally takes away his hand he softly massages my calves and I work to regain control of my breathing. 

Neither of us look at each other for several minutes, the only sound to be heard is our jagged breaths. 

In. (hold) Out…

In. (hold) Out…

I gather enough strength to sit up and remove the pillow from under my hips and look over to see Harry leaning against the stone wall, watching me closely. His hands are at his sides and he’s subtly flexing his fingers, clearly unsure of what to do next. Despite his black pants and the dim lighting of the room I can still make out that he is in need of a release. The bulge beneath his scrubs looks painfully restrained.

I slide off of the massage table and tentatively walk over to him, never breaking eye contact. 

Worry crosses his face as he opens his mouth to speak. “I don’t normally…” but his voice trails off as I slowly lower myself to my knees in front of him. I never take my eyes off of his and can’t help but smile inside as I see his chest begin to rise and fall at a rapid pace. 

I place a soft hand on his thigh and tilt my head, giving my best doe eyes. “You really shouldn’t let it get this bad you know…” I glance down and back up, repeating his own words back to him. Sliding my hands up his thighs I let my fingers run along the waistband of his pants. “Can I…?”

Harry lets out a strangled, “yes” as his head falls back against the wall. A few strands of hair have fallen out of his bun and gently curl around his face. I almost lose sight of my task as I take in just how beautiful this absolute stranger is. A faint flush creeps up his neck, his lips are full and slightly swollen, and his eyes carry a subtle, dreamy haze.

I attempt to return his torture by taking my time untying the knot from his scrub pants and pulling them down, but when I see the tiger tattoo on his thigh all plans are thrown out the window. I’m suddenly salivating and desperate to see all of him. More tattoos reveal themselves to me - soft words by his knees and jagged lyrics along his ankles, disappearing behind socks. I bend down to press my lips to one knee, then the other, without thinking. Taking hold of his thighs I begin to kiss my way up, savoring the feel of his muscular thighs as the clench in anticipation. I rise over the tiger and past his hips until my mouth landed on the ferns resting just above his black boxer briefs. My tongue traces the lines of the ink as my hands work down his underwear.

Pulling back I take a moment to admire his cock that has so patiently - and painfully - been begging for some attention. His heavy erection twitches as I take a soft lick of the precum that’s starting to drip before sliding my mouth over him and taking him into the back of my throat. Any attempt at going slow was now abandoned. His hips buck at my swiftness and I feel his knee give a tremble beneath my hands. I pull off of him, giving the tip of his cock a swirl of my tongue before sliding back down and setting a steady pace. 

As my nails trail softly down his thighs, his hands dart to my hair, gripping it firmly. I can sense the tension radiating through him, his body taut with restraint. Pulling away, I pause, waiting for his gaze to lock with mine. Reaching up, I touch his arms, letting my hands glide down to meet his. With a small, reassuring nod, I signal it’s okay, and his grip tightens in response. He guides me back onto him and gives a few testing rocks of his hips to make sure I’m okay. A shuddering sigh escapes his lips when he finally pulls me to the hilt of his cock and holds me there for a few moments. I swallow around him and he begins to move his hips again. 

My eye’s never leave his face as he slides his cock in and out of my mouth. I want him to know my gratitude. I want him to feel as good as he made me feel. I can feel my arousal building again as I watch him, amazed that I’m the one making these emotions of pleasure cross his face. His eyes are closed, his mouth gently hanging open as soft puffs of breath and stuttered gasps fall from his lips. The serenity of his face are a stark contrast to the fevered pace he is keeping. Tears fall and saliva dips down my chin as he roughly fucks my throat, but I’m so turned on I can’t stop myself from reaching down to relieve the pressure between my legs. 

When Harry sees me touching myself he withdraws my mouth from him, a string of spit connecting my mouth to his still swollen cock. His eyes are dark as he tugs my head further back and looks from my face to my fingers working fast circles on my clit. Giving him a smirk I lift my fingers to my mouth, but as I go in for a lick I’m met with his tongue already there, desperate to taste me again. For the first time our mouths meet in a desperate kiss and Harry drops down to his knees to meet me. Hands and lips and tongues become tangled as we pull each other closer, closer, closer. 

Harry hoists me up and places me so I’m straddling his thigh, his hands tightly gripping my hips and sliding my dripping cunt along his tiger tattoo. I wrap one arm around his shoulder, my fingers fumbling with the hair tie as I release his long curls. I pull away from our kiss and take a moment to admire him before spitting in my hand and gripping his still needy cock. We work our bodies in sync, my hips sliding up and down with every stroke of my hand on him. Desperate moans escape me as my head falls forward and rests in the crook of his neck. 

I grind my clit down harder on Harry’s thigh, savoring the blissful friction as I roll my hips but so desperate for a second release. His hips had started rocking into my hand letting me know he was just as eager to come. Without breaking my stride I let the spit pool behind my teeth before releasing it to dribble down, meeting the hand that was frantically working him towards his release. Harry leaned forward and captured my lips again, his hungry togue sliding into my mouth. 

Losing control, I moan into his mouth as the champagne bubbles float upwards again. Harry’s grip turns bruising as he pulls me down harder along his thigh while I maintain my rocking motion. When the bubbles finally reached the surface and overflowed I let out a silent gasp, unaware that I had been holding my breath again. I feel Harry’s cock pulsing in my hand and open my eyes to meet his as we finish together. Our hair is stuck to the sweat along our foreheads and our cheeks have a matching flush. I can’t bring myself to break his gaze as we both release soft, uneven breaths, waiting for our breathing to steady.

Several moments pass before a giggle escapes me, followed by another, and another. Harry shakes his head but begin to laugh as well. And so we sit there, naked, on the floor of this massage room, laughing until our stomachs hurt and tears run down our faces. 

As I walked back to my car my cheeks still ached from smiling. Harry and I hadn’t spoken a word about it while we cleaned up, just shared quiet chuckles whenever our eyes met. At the locker room, his fingers brushed my arm, lingering for a fleeting moment before he turned and disappeared back into the spa center. I drove away with a sense of calm I hadn’t felt since before grad school, a weight lifted off my shoulders—and a package for five more sessions tucked in my pocket. 

After all, some knots need more than one visit to work out.

[averyspizookies]

— — Guarded — —

Hey y’all 😏 bet you weren’t expecting me to start a new series, but I’ve been dying to read a series with this plot so i was just like, let me write it lol. Anyways don’t worry “dangerous question” is still going to be coming out!! I’m just doing 2 series at once, but please tell me how you like this first chapter! Love you guys and thanks for the support<3.

This is a au where azzi has transferred to Hopkins!the teammates are the ones from UConn ofc ofc.

Enjoy!

Materlist!!

It was the first day of school, everyone at Hopkins high school was buzzing with anticipation for the the pep rally.

“Paige cmon!!” Jana shouts from the locker room door.

The main sports teams including basketball, football and soccer were all apart of the pep rally.

It was where they introduced the teams and their jersey numbers, just a little tradition at the school.

After this, normal pep rally things would commence, like games, speeches and performances.

It was Paiges sophomore year, she had exploded in popularity over the past year, her freshman season debuting her as a star,

She already had offers from some D1 schools, but not the one she wanted; UConn.

Her dream was to go to UConn, it was the best women’s basketball program in the world, but yet she hasn’t heard anything from them.

Shaking from her thoughts her head, she walks into the locker room to get changed, “Guys im so excited for the season!! But did you hear there’s a new girl coming in? she apparently had a private tryout with coach.” Kk said, buzzing with energy as usual,

“What? Who?” Paige demanded, she hadn’t heard anything of a new girl coming to her basketball team, especially not one who got a private tryout.

“Chill P no ones taking your spot, even though I did hear she was a guard….” Kk says training off in a teasing tone.

another guard? On her team? Who could even compete for Paige’s spot, she took a deep breath to regain her confidence.

she was the best on the team, no doubt. Even though she loved her teammates, and they were all amazing, she was the star and everyone knew it.

So really, she didn’t have anything to worry about, even though the thought of getting replaced was floating around in the back of her mind.

“Hey guys jerseys are here!” Caroline shouted from the other side of the locker room,

they had gottten brand-new Jerseys this year, ones with last names on them.

The girls all cheered and ran over to the pile of shirts and shorts.

Everyone started grabbing their jerseys and making comments on how pretty and nice they were, and they were, they were Nike, royal blue, sleeveless classic uniforms.

“Look P, it’s so pretty!” Kk says bouncing up and down holding out her shirt which had her name “Arnold” proudly.

Paige shakes her head and scoffs at her friend’s antics, she starts to look for her number 1 jersey.

Suddenly her hands stumble upon something,

“Uh guys, whats this?” she says pulling up a number 35 jersey labeled “Fudd”

The girls glance around at each other, sharing looks of confusion-

“Uh, I guess the rumors were real P,” Kk says, a little cautiously.

Panic shoots thorugh Paige’s mind.

There was a new girl on the team, her team.

Who played the same position as her, and was good enough to make the team without even coming to normal tryouts.

“Oh, yeah I guess.’ She says placing the shirt back into the pile.

She finally pulls out her jersey, It looks better then she could’ve imagined-the last name across the back, the number 1; it reminds her that even if a new payer comes in, she’s still Paige Beuckers.

“Ladies!! Can I come in?” The sound of their coach echos out from the door.

“Yeah!” Paige shouts back, looking around to make sure all of her teammates were clothed,

When their Coach walks in and sees all the new uniforms he compliments them saying “It’s gonna be a good season.”

He’s more chipper than his usual serious demeanor.

“Coach, whats up with you? You look like you just won the lottery,” Ice says with a snicker, picking up on his strange behavior as well,

“Well ladies, you have a new teamate, a transfer, who im sure you’ve all seen highlights of. But I think this year she’s gonna be deadly. Were lucky she moved here unepxtectly, she had offers from some serious schools, she’s already verbally commmited to UConn.” He says practically buzzing.

“UConn? What??” Paige says, her mind racing with who this could be, and how could they have gotten a scholarship when she hasn’t.

“yeah, speaking of, I came in here to grab her jersey, she’s gonna be walking out at the pep rally today,”

“What?? Where is she?” Paige says, concern lacing her voice instead of excitement.

“Chill Paige, she’s in the main office fixing some things with her schedule, you guys will meet her soon enough,” He says walking back with the number 35 jersey in hand.

Her claps paige on the shoulder speaking one last time before leaving, “You two will be a force on the court, you better keep up with her.”

Keep up with her?

Please, hopefully whoever this mysetery girl is can keep up with their Jv team.

“Oooooo Paige has some competition!!” Kk says laughing with ice.

the girls all laugh but Paige doesn’t find it funny, the feeling of anger coursing thorugh her, “shut up, we both know ill be better then her”

“Is a cat fight incoming?” Aubrey snickers leaning on Caroline.

Paige groans and sits down on the bench,

Her thoughts racing, who is this?

And was she a threat?

****

The crowd roars with excitement-

Hopkins was pretty big school, so the bleachers were packed.

All of the boys basketball team had done there introductions now it was time the girls.

They were in a huddle behind the doors, the gym lights dimmed and blue strobe lighting shinning all around, they pretty much turned the gym into a club.

“All right y’all! This is it!!! LETS GOO!” Kk says into the huddle clapping her hands hyping up the team.

They started cheering and hear the announcer begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen now we give a warm welcome to the head coach of the Hopkins girls basketball team… 5 time state championship winner… Mitchell James!!!” The crowd roared, the girls laughed at their coach running out, hyping up the crowd.

Excitement was running through Paige, she was buzzing with adrenaline.

She felt like she was on cloud 9, she was prepared to give her all to basketball this year.

her teammates continued to clap, all ready to run out into the dark blue room filled with their peers,

The announcer started to speak again, his voice even more excited than it was before.

Paige was up first, of course she was, she was number 1, and the star.

She was hyped to say the least, preparing to burst out into the room…

“NOW TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO THE TUNNEL WHERE WE WELCOME STAR SOPHMORE GUARD STANDING AT 6 FOOT….PAIGE……BUCKETS….BUECKERS!!!!!”

The crowd bursted into the loudest they had been all day.

Paige jogged out waving and shaking her head—the song she choose to play ‘California love’ was blaring adding to the environment,

She couldn’t hear anything expect the screams and the bass of the music, but looking around the crowd was eating her up.

She turned around jogging blowing kisses to the crowd and holding a hand to her ear, with that the crowd roared even more which was practically impossible.

She took her place in the middle of the gym when the announcer shouted over the still cheering crowd to welcome in KK,

“NEXT WE WECOME IN FRESHMAN GUARD… STANDING AT 5 FOOT 9… KK..ARNOLD!!!!”

KK came out bouncing waving her hands up, the crowd already hyped from Paige and was screaming their heads off as KK started dancing,

She was the life of the party, probably the most fun person on the team, but she pulled it off like no other, keeping everyone’s spirits high.

The announcer was pretty much screaming at this point, where he welcomed in the rest of the team.

Once they got to Aubrey, the whole team was standing in the middle, the crowd screaming there heads off,

But then the voice of the announcer rang over again.

“AND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THATS NOT ALL…..WE HAVE A NEW STAR SHARP SHOOTER HERE AT HOPKINS HIGH….3 TIME OLYMPIC GOLD MEDALIST….STEPH CURRY PROTEGEE….”

The blue strobe lights dimmed and a spot light shined right on the tunnel, focusing everyone’s attention to it once again.

Paige’s mind was racing, she had forgot all about the new player, but her creditals sounded familiar, as impressive as they were.

Her team was looking at each other on the dark court, some puzzled and some excited.

Then with the doors opened and the voice started again,

“WELCOME TO HOPKINS…. FIVE FOOT ELEVEN GUARD……NUMBER 35……..AZZI….FUDDDDD!!!!”

The crowd shot up even more, cheering as loudly as they could, people falling and holding their phones out to record.

Azzi came walking slowly out of the tunnel with a easy confidence, she had on her number 35 jersey, her head held high, waving to the people with a smile that seemed to blind eyes,

Paiges mind went blank expect for one thing.

Azzi fucking Fudd.

Oh shit.

[alynwrench]

Something Old, Something New: The World Around Us

Hi everyone, its AlynWrench! I don't normally write fanfics or drabbles but I participated in a writing sprint with some pals and cooked this up This is for my DCA X YN Oddity Shop AU Something Old, Something New! A story taking place in a thrift/oddity shop ran by an old lady named Mildred who took in the daycare attendant as an employee and hired you in after requesting a position. I don't post about it a lot so here's some art for visual purposes, then you can get to reading!

721 words, no warnings. Feel free to enjoy!

"Why are the kids clothes cleaner than the adult clothing in this bag?" You mutter.

"Excuse me?"

You look up to eclipse after folding a set of frilly girls shorts, embroidered with butterflies and sequins. "You ever think that says something about like, their relationship? The responsibility of the parents?"

You can see the gears turning in his motherboard, optics darting between your own eyes as if trying to figure out what exactly is going on in your mind.

"Okay, so- Typically kids run around, they get into messes." You grab another piece, this time a pink girls shirt with some cartoon you recall airing recent, not quite remembering the name. "And I get these days kids don't go outside as much but they're still clumsy, they still spill ice-cream and slip on ice and all that stuff. But these clothes are spotless."

"Okay…?" You feel a sense of humor coming from his voicebox, like he's not sure where this is going. As you speak you watch him examine a painting that was also donated to the store, scanning it for imperfections or grime.

"But now look at this" You lift up an adult sized shirt, stained by the collar and ripped at the edge. "Or this." A woman's dress, the edges of the straps where your arms poke through ruined with deodorant and some sort of yellowing on the white, imperfections spotted around.

Eclipse stands up from the small circle you both were sitting in and heads to a wall, hanging the painting and then placing a price sticker on it. "Oh, I see! You're suggesting that the parents let the child wear their clothes?"

"No, not at all. I'm just saying-" you wave your hands in a small circle, trying to get your own thoughts turning in a way that's easy to explain. "- It makes me wonder what the dynamic at home is like, you know? There's so many possibilities." You toss the dirty clothes into a nearby bin for recycling. "Are the parents immature, has the child taken on an older role than she'd like? Or maybe the parents don't have the means to keep their own clothes neat so they just make sure the child is cared for first."

"Why are you worried about all of that? It doesn't affect you in any way." He adjusts the picture then rotates his faceplate towards you, body following with a slight delay.

"Maybe not.. I just.. You don't think about why people donate this stuff, why its in the condition it's in?"

He seems to freeze in place, trying to generate a decent answer to give. "… No, not particularly."

You give a small hum, standing up to throw away the garbage bag you'd been searching through. In a way it made you feel a little crazy, but you also remind yourself it's not surprising he doesn't understand. After all his thoughts are more programmed than anything.

But that's when he finally responds.

"I sometimes wonder, why they donated me."

His tone is quieter than you're used to, like when he's speaking to Mildred's cat or talking to himself in the few times you've caught him doing so.

"You do?"

"I do."

He leans on the wall, tugging on his sleeve while he looks everywhere except towards you.

"Why not throw me away? Especially with the state I was found in. Shattered plastic and metal, in a state of trying to destroy myself- in a state of delirium where two of my defaults… Were fighting. I don't like thinking about how I was acting when I was in that place."

You had only learned certain aspects of his past, let alone found him in those defaults he mentioned very rarely. Sun and Moon, he called them. And each time you did find him in those states, it was always on accident. He hated you seeing him like that. But at the end of the day, you never really minded.

"I'm glad they sent you here." You murmur. "I'm glad I met you. I'm glad Mildred hired me here. I- I'm glad you don't mind talking to me about, you know. This stuff."

Eclipse finally turns to you, astonished you can safely assume. A soft chuckle escapes his body. "As long as you feel that way, I guess… That relieves me."

[torchickentacos]

you- you bought a fetal hog from barnes and noble?????

Okay SO! Long post ahead. Storytime. A little set-up for this saga: first off, this story centers around bio 102 lab class. Second, my college has a little on-campus supplies store which just so happens to be run by Barnes and Noble. It's basically a B&N but with overpriced college-color lanyards and shitty coffee and stuff too. and pigs. SO.

Imagine. It's the beginning of my semester a semester or two ago (it all runs together, idfk). This all began in late August and ends at the dissection in October, if I recall. Now, I've taken a lab class before, I know how it works, but I've never done a dissection. I've worked with live animals in an educational setting through vetsci classes back in a high school accreditation program/courses, but I've never had to work with preserved animals, so I didn't know the ~standard procedure~ of how you would prep/find materials for a dissection. I saw 'dissections' on the syllabus and assumed they'd just provide the dissectee to you. You know. Because that's the most rational assumption. You'd think that's how that would work, that they'd just put it on the table in front of you.

...Then I read further down the syllabus and saw that students were expected to buy their own fetal pigs (out of pocket, might I add. Like, our little trio at the lab table pooled our poor college kid money until we had 80 bucks, but I'm getting ahead of myself). It was very specifically specified on the materials list, alongside buying a lab coat and a book and lab guides etc, that we would be buying a fetal pig.

So naturally I was like 'well, that doesn't sound right, but what do I know'. Reread it more closely to make sure, and yep, it's asking me to buy a pig fetus. Not covered by my class fees. What the fuck.

Out of equal parts confusion and curiousity, I then asked tumblr, like "Hey, um, is it normal for your lab to ask you to buy your own fetal pig???" Here were the responses on that.

So that was a fairly unanimous 'no', lol.

At this point, I was like, 'okay, I probably just give them the fee and they take it out of the freezer on the day of the dissection. Right?' No. Wrong. I spent a couple weeks trying to figure out how to source my own pig fetus before our professor FINALLY told us a few classes in, about a month before the dissection, that we would need to go walk over to the school bookstore and buy it there, at BARNES AND NOBLE, all the way across campus, and bring it to lab the week before the dissection so that she can put them in the freezer and have them ready for us.

So I ended up doing just that. Several weeks later, I woke up at like seven in the morning- THIS WAS A MORNING CLASS TOO which by the way, any new college students, don't do that to yourself- anyways I woke up early, got ready, got to campus, and walked into the Barnes and Noble to the cashier lady and was like "Hi. Um. I'm sorry but do you have any fetal pigs?" and thankfully she knew exactly what I was talking about lmfao, and she went and got me one and I paid with the pooled money. And I walked back across campus. With my little vacuum-sealed pig fetus in tow (which, by the way, bigger and heavier than I was expecting it to be. I was expecting maybe a squirrel sized thing but it was roughly the weight of a small pumpkin and, like, hand-to-elbow long, but I have short arms).

And, you know, I've gotten into some situations in my life (the recent accidental acquisition of a ton of sauce comes to mind) but I really think that walking across campus with a bagged pig at like eight in the fucking morning has to be in the top five experiences I've ever had. It's really high up there. Brisk autumn wind biting through my jacket, the leaves are barely hanging on, the sky was the kind of bright blue that contrasts with the auburns and umbers of the dying greenery, just an absolutely gorgeous fall morning and I'm experiencing it with a dead pig in a plastic bag as I walk down the sidewalk.

It was pretty interesting to dissect, though. My lab table named her Peppa (we also had a goldfish named Darcy, who, thankfully, got to be alive and unharmed for his experiments).

[moon-soo-ah]

Women - Short Program Starting Order & Time Schedule

[dark-corner-cunning]

Transmutation Warding: Feeding Off The Haters

• Welcome Back, Seekers! Within my local coven, we’ve turned our focus to warding and protection magick as we prepare for the year ahead. I adore transmutation magick for warding! It’s one of my favorite ways to craft shields for myself, my work, my growth, and my success. Instead of constantly bracing for every hex, evil eye, or ill wish, this approach flips the narrative. Transmutation wards work proactively, taking any negativity sent your way and alchemizing it into fuel for your growth and power. Why waste energy defending against haters or uncovering their identities when you can let their spite feed your fire? Let them send their malice—it’ll only make you more powerful.

As always, take what resonates with your spirit and weave it into your own unique magick! My spells and workings are here to spark your creativity and inspire your craft. ✨

--------

Tools & Ingredients:

1 black candle (to absorb negativity)

1 purple candle (for transmutation and spiritual power)

Thread or Cord (any color)

A mirror (to summon your Fetch Spirit or reflect your essence)

1 clear quartz crystal or any charm you’re called to that can be left on your altar or within your space -  As a subtle sentinel of the ward’s power, clear quartz is a cherished ally in magick. Its ability to be easily programmed makes it a perfect vessel for your intention, while its amplifying nature ensures the energy of your working radiates far and wide. To the untrained eye, it appears as nothing more than a beautiful crystal resting upon your altar or within your sacred space—a discreet guardian cloaked in plain sight, silently weaving its protective spell.

Optional: Chalk or something to draw a circle (for creating a sacred boundary to hold the enchantment of your crystal or charm. If chalk is unavailable, let your finger become the wand. You can also use salt or any symbols you would like to use to draw out a circle.

--------

Preparation:

Cleanse your workspace and tools with smoke, salt water, or another method of your choosing.

Candle preparation, take your black candle and anoint it with a neutral oil, something simple like canola oil—or any oil you feel connected to for protection. Once it’s dressed in oil, sprinkle it with herbs known for protection, such as basil, bay, black pepper, cinnamon, or clove—or any protection herbs that resonate with your magick. For the purple candle, I like to use a neutral oil as well, then dress it with herbs that are perfect for transmutation, like lady’s mantle and yucca. Along with those, I often add a pinch of herbs that represent success and abundance—and don’t forget to include a bit of your hair, fingernail clippings, or something from your person to taglock the magick, connecting the work directly to your energy. Then bind the candles together with some thread or cord.

Binding the Candles:

Take the black and purple candles and begin winding the thread around them, chanting this, or create your own:

"I bind these flames, black and purple entwined,

Protection and transmutation, powers combined.

Through thread and flame, my will takes hold,

To guard my essence, fierce and bold."

You don't have to go all out like I did with those massive candles. Honestly, a couple of chime candles will do the trick if you're short on time.

3. Place your mirror above the center of your altar or working space, positioning it to reflect either yourself or the flickering flames of your candles (refer to the caption below the next picture for more context). Let it serve as a portal, amplifying the energy of your work. Arrange your candles in a fire-safe dish at the center—I often favor a trusty aluminum pie pan for this purpose.

4. Hold your crystal or charm in your hands, letting your energy flow into it. Visualize your purpose, your will, and your desire imprinting itself upon the object. Once your intention feels vibrant and alive within the crystal or charm, move it in a clockwise circle around the candles, envisioning it connecting to the fiery energy of your working—like a thread weaving them together.

5. When the circuit feels complete, place the charged crystal or charm before the candles. Now, cast a circle around the entire space, sealing in the energy. You can do this energetically, feeling the boundary forming with your will, or use chalk, salt, or symbols drawn ahead of time to anchor the space. This sacred boundary holds the power of your work, ensuring that your charm becomes fully and beautifully enchanted. And now, it's time to spark the flame on them candles.

I used a selenite tower in this picture as a stand-in to show where your crystal or charm should be placed. This isn’t the actual charm I used, but it gives you an idea of the setup. You’ll also notice my altar mirror hanging just above the space, perfectly positioned for the energy work. If hanging a mirror isn’t an option for you, no worries—simply place one in front of your working area instead. The reflection is what matters most!

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Casting The Ward:

Lighting the Candles:

With the bound candles before the mirror. Light them, starting with the black candle, then the purple, and then chant this, or create your own:

"Black flame of shadow, guard and protect,

Purple flame of spirit, energy redirect.

Before this mirror, realms align,

My (Fetch Spirit/Reflection) carries this spell through time."

Incantation of The Ward:

Face the mirror and focus on your reflection, summoning your Fetch Spirit or the reflection of your empowered self. Chant this incantation, or create your own:

"Anyone who cannot honor my essence,

Respect my growth, or stand in my presence,

Be it through disdain, envy, or intent,

Their fate is sealed, their malice spent.

Their energy flows to me, transformed,

Into strength, abundance, success reborn.

As I feed upon their misguided spite,

They are drained by their own blight.

Across all realms, my shield is spun,

Now and forever, this spell is done."

Seal the Energy:

Visualize the mirror reflecting the power of your spell into the cosmos, spreading the ward across all realms. Allow the candles to burn fully if possible, or snuff them out respectfully.

I love this picture! The flames intertwine perfectly, mirroring the energy I was aiming for in this ward of protective transmutation.

--------

Aftercare:

Charging your crystal or charm: Leave your charm on your altar or in your space as a representation of the ward. Each full moon, place it under the moonlight to recharge its energy, visualizing the ward growing stronger with every cycle.

Mirror Care: Cleanse the mirror after the spellwork with smoke or moon water to ensure it remains a neutral tool for future workings.

Final Words:

Maintain your crystal or charm as a talisman of your protective transmutation ward and remember that this ward will work continuously as long as you charge it and feed it with belief and intention.

Stay Wild, Stay Magickal, & Keep Seeking, Seekers!

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - You Get a Job as Their Assistant

A/N: I'm so turning this into a series 🦊

Warnings: none

Part 2: You Work Late Together

MASTERLIST

Your friend Lucas got you the job when you reconnected at your high school reunion. You were fresh out of college and although this wasn't exactly your dream job, it was a good opportunity until you could find something in your line of work. It was your first day and you couldn't have been more nervous. Your friend, who was a bodyguard for the boss, didn't say much about what the company did but the pay was more than generous so you accepted.

Jin

A lady from human resources showed you to your desk. You were at the topmost floor of the skyscraper and had to pass half a dozen security points before you reached your new job post.

"Here are all of your passwords," said the lady whose name you had sadly forgotten immediately after the introduction and handed you a sheet of paper. "You guard these with your life, you hear me? Best if you memorize them all and destroy this - don't just throw it anywhere," she warned and fixed her glasses. You nodded although you couldn't help but feel like it was all a bit excessive.

You sat down behind the large desk and signed into all of the programs listed on the sheet when suddenly a young man walked right past you and made for the office.

"Excuse me, you can't go in there," you said as you quickly jumped up and came around your desk.

The young man turned around and took in your presence. He measured your face and waited for you to look away but you were confident not to mess up your first day.

"Why not?" he asked politely. You were caught off guard for a moment by his good manners as you were prepared for nothing short of a heated argument.

His amused gaze shifted between your eyes as you collected your thoughts.

"You need to make an appointment first," you cleared your throat and stood your ground. A small smile crept into the handsome man's eyes as he watched you with an equal measure of interest as you him.

"Is Mr Kim in his office?" he asked almost quietly.

"No, he is not here at the moment but like I said, I can schedule an appointment," you restated politely with a small smile that refused to leave your lips under his warm brown eyes.

"Do you know when he will be in?"

"I don't but I can inquire if you wish," you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling like you're knocking it out of the park protecting your boss's office.

"That's okay," said the man softly as the corner of his lips curved into a small smile.

The elevator door slid open with a chime, making both of you turn around. The lady from HR rushed towards you.

"Mr Kim! I'm so sorry, I was going to speak to you about the new hire this morning but as your schedule changed-"

"It's alright, Margaret," said the man and realization hit you. Heat rushed up your neck and settled in your cheeks as your eyes grew wide and your mouth went dry.

"This is Mrs Y/N - she will be your assistant whilst Iseul is on maternity leave," said Margaret and gestured towards you.

"We've just met," said Mr Kim with a smile so warm it would have melted your heart if not for the absolute embarrassment you were suffering through. He offered you his hand and you shook it.

"I'm really sorry, Mr Kim," you said quickly as Margaret's gaze switched between the two of you in confusion.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Mrs Y/N," he said, his eyes smiling. "You were excellent. Very..." He measured you for a moment. "Confident."

You couldn't help but laugh as you felt anything but although his attempt at reassuring you helped. He smiled and you knew you were done for. Butterflies woke in your stomach and your heart felt as light as a feather.

Namjoon

It was a few minutes to eight when you walked into the company elevator. You felt good because the idea of being late on your first day of work had been stressing out you all night. The instructions sheet they gave you prior to your two-day training explicitly said in bold how Mr Kim valued punctuation and you were even going to be a few minutes early today.

You pressed the number of the executive floor and just as the door began to close, a hand caught it open. A tall young man joined you in the elevator. You offered him a smile when he entered and made some space. His eyes lingered on your smile for a moment as if it caught him off guard. His perfume filled the elevator although your fragrance had the same effect on him only moments ago. He looked at the elevator buttons but apparently you went to the same destination.

You wondered what he did in the executive floor. Maybe Mr Kim had two assistants and you would work together although that didn't seem likely given how elegantly this man was dressed and how he carried himself.

The elevator stopped halfway up and let in two more passengers: an older and a younger man.

"Ah, Mr Kim," greeted the older and made you freeze. "We've just taken care of the thing we discussed last night," he informed the man who was going to the executive floor with you. Your eyes fixed on the three figures beside you as you tried to make sense of it. You wanted to slap yourself for not googling what your boss looked like but you were sure he was an older man that you'd recognize as the CEO in an instant.

Mr Kim's gaze caught your eyes and you looked away immediately, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You looked ahead of yourself until the two passengers got off. The door closed and again it was just the two of you.

"You're Mr Kim Namjoon?" you asked him after a few moments. Your tone was polite and yet confident as you turned to your boss. He looked at you amused, interested and surprised at the same time although he hid those emotions as fast as he showed them.

"I am," he said, his quiet voice coming from deep within his chest.

"I'm Y/N L/N," you introduced yourself and offered him your hand in shake. "I'm your new assistant."

You could see something shift in his hard eyes although you couldn't tell what it was. He accepted your hand, losing it in his large one.

"I'm sorry for not recognizing you earlier," you said as your hands grew clammy holding your elegant bag. You were good at showing confidence even if in truth you were nervous or afraid.

"It's alright," said Mr Kim genuinely although his voice remained a deep rumble. There was only a few floors left to the top. "You came at a high recommendation from your boyfriend, Mrs Y/N."

You looked at your boss, your eyebrows raised and your body frozen.

"What boyfriend?" you blurted as your expression quickly turned into a frown. The amusement and interest returned to Mr Kim's eyes.

"Did Lucas say he is my boyfriend?" you asked in all confidence as the thought made you angry. You had your suspicions that he might have liked you but you didn't want a job offer where something was expected in turn other than friendship.

"Perhaps it's my mistake," said your boss, his quiet but powerful voice grounding you. A gentle smile gathered in his eyes.

"In any case, I am not dating anybody," you concluded calmly although no less proudly. You were sick of people, even your friends and family, telling you to find someone or try to belittle you for being single. You enjoyed being alone and you were done having others attribute your value on the basis of having or not having a boyfriend.

The elevator door opened and both of you waited for the other to exit first. When Mr Kim didn't move, you thanked him and exited although you could feel his eyes burn through your neck.

Yoongi

It was your first day at work and it's been a long time since you had been this nervous. If it were a job more closely related to your field of interest, you might have felt more confident. This was something you accepted just because the pay was excellent and there were no other opportunities presenting to you.

The HR had you in for a two-day preparation and made you learn a protocol sheet of conduct, your boss's habits and all of the dos and don'ts.

You've been at work for two hours already but the office was empty. You knew from his schedule that Mr Min was in a meeting on the other side of the city.

You looked up when the elevator door opened, revealing a gloomy and even formidable-looking young man. He walked with a purpose, deep in thought, and didn't pay you the slightest mind.

"Excuse me!" you said and jumped from your chair as you saw him march straight for the office. You weren't allowed to let anyone in without your boss's presence or explicit permission.

"Excuse me, you cannot go in there," you said and stepped in the man's path. He stopped although for a moment you thought he might just storm through you. He was someone who worked out because his frame was twice the size of yours; if he wanted to enter the office, there was really no realistic possibility of you stopping him. Still, your crossed your arms over your chest and refused to let go of the eye contact.

The young man's gaze shifted between your eyes. He was like a cat deciding whether to scratch you or grant you some of his attention.

"If you want to see Mr Min, you have to make an appointment first," you said more gently. His dark eyes studied you further until you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. For as much as you tried not to think about it, he was so handsome it made your heart flutter.

"But I'm Mr Min," he said slowly and calmly as ever as you grew aware of the small gap of space between you.

You stared at him, your eyes wide and your neck prickling with heat.

"But he's old," you blurted out loud and caused a smile in your boss's eyes. For some reason you had gotten it in your head that 'Mr Min' was an older man with graying hair and possibly a goatee.

"I'm not that old," he said slightly amused as if he did actually feel old despite his early thirties.

"But... You don't drink coffee?" you kept blurting out all the wrong things, the things you remembered from your protocol sheet. He narrowed his eyes at you no less amused. His hard, gloomy features were slowly melting and made your cheeks even redder.

"I drink coffee," said Mr Min. His voice was deep and rolled slowly.

You nodded, "But decaf and you prefer tea."

"I prefer tea now," he agreed. It was your turn to study him. His outfit, his watch and his shoes, the assured way in which he stood and spoke.

Your hands grew clammy as you smoothed down the sleeve of your elegant shirt. "I'm sorry," you began, feeling your heart rise to your throat. "I just had a... a different mental image of who my boss would be," you explained heavily and waited for him to fire you on your first day.

"I hope it changed for the better," said Mr Min, catching you off guard.

"Of course," you confirmed almost too quickly and he nodded. As he walked past you to his office, you remembered the protocol sheet again.

"Do you want some tea?"

He turned around and studied you. The smile spread from his eyes to his lips, waking up the butterflies in your stomach.

"Sure," he nodded and disappeared into his office. You shut your eyes because you knew you were done for.

Hoseok

It was your first day as the assistant in one of the most profitable companies in your area. You had barely made it to the office when the phone rang, asking coffee to be brought for your boss who was on his way. You grabbed your purse and the company card they gave you and went to the nearby cafe to grab a double-shot-of-espresso iced Americano.

"First day and already taking coffee breaks, huh?" asked a familiar voice when you returned to the company. You stopped on your tracks in the middle of the lobby and saw your friend Lucas.

"I'm just teasing you," he grinned when he saw the puzzled expression on your face. "How's it been so far?"

"Hi, sorry," you shook your head a little and smiled. "Good, they just showed me the programs and the technical stuff this morning, so..." You nodded.

"Good, great," Lucas nodded as well. "You look nice," he said and touched your shoulder before he left.

"Thanks," lingered on your lips as your face grew warm. You couldn't find the time to think twice about it, though, and hurried to the topmost floor.

You smoothed your skirt and fixed your shirt before you knocked on the door and waited for the invitation.

"Come in," said a voice absently. You entered the office, trying to keep as much confidence as you could.

"Good morning," you said politely. You almost stopped on your tracks when you saw a young man sitting behind your boss's desk although you quickly realized it was actually your boss. For some reason you had expected an older man, maybe in his fifties.

"I have your coffee, sir," you said as you set down his iced Americano. Mr Jung looked up from the documents that have been keeping his attention. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as his eyes burned through you.

"Who hired you?" he asked and took you by surprise. You stared at him for a moment, you gaze shifting between his intense dark eyes.

"I... The human resources?" you spoke much less confidently as when you first entered the luxurious office.

Mr Jung stared at you, his frown only worsening.

"I was told your previous assistant is permanently indisposed," you tried although your intonation was still more that of a question rather than a statement.

Something shifted in Mr Jung's hard gaze. "Right," he said almost indifferently, then finally looked at you properly.

"Who are you?" he asked, not impolitely.

"I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N, your new assistant," you introduced yourself and offered your hand. "If you'll have me." You tried to lift the mood some.

Mr Jung's gaze moved to your hand then back to your smile.

"Jung Hoseok," he said as he finally accepted your hand in shake. Mr Jung stood up behind his desk. "Lucas's recommendation," he thought out loud as he narrowed his eyes at you. The attention made fever gather up your neck and cheeks.

"Yes, sir," you confirmed although something about your boss intimidated you. You thought you were confident but he was so self-assured of his actions that it made you uneasy.

His eyes measured yours once again. "Thank you, Mrs Y/N."

"Of course," you gave a small nod and a smile before you turned on your heel and hid the feverish blush that colored your face on your way out.

Jimin

You sat down at your desk and watched your superior disappear in the elevator. A breath of relief escaped your lungs followed by an even greater anxiety. Your boss wasn't in yet according to the HR lady but you still needed to take phone calls and schedule meetings.

You smoothed the white cuff of the tailored shirt you had bought especially for your first day at this job. When they gave you the instructions, dress code was one of them. It's not that you usually didn't look put together, it's just that the position made you nervous as it involved an entire protocol sheet of rules and a good outfit always spiked your confidence.

The phone rang suddenly and you answered without thinking of what you were going to say.

"Mr Park's office," you said instinctively as your face flushed and you felt as if you had never had a conversation before in your life.

The person introduced herself. She was some businessman's assistant and wanted to schedule an appointment. You turned to the computer and checked your boss's schedule.

"How's Thursday-" you suggested when suddenly you noticed a young man in front of your desk. He wore a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. His hands were resting in his pockets as he studied you.

Your eyes grew wide as you forgot your words but the assistant on the other side agreed on Thursday. A small smile of amusement crept onto the man's lips. You finished the call and got up.

"I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself and offered your hand. "You must be Mr Park."

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he accepted your hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs Y/N." The smile shifted from his lips to his eyes.

"Walk with me," he invited and you followed, grabbing your tablet on the way. You told him the schedule for the day as he lead the way into his office. He took of his suit jacket and hung it over the side of a sofa before he sat down in his chair.

"And you have lunch with a Mr Min Yoongi on Thursday, 3 pm, at the Monarch," you informed him last of the appointment you just made. As you looked up from your tablet, you became acutely aware of his sharp gaze.

"I prefer Celeste," he said calmly although you could almost see him firing you on the spot. Both of the restaurants were so high-end that you couldn't help but know them as they were all over the news, however, you were also provided with a list of locations when you started the job. Both of the restaurants were on the list although Mr Park's preference must have been a recent development.

"I can rearrange it," you offered immediately, already thinking of the other man's assistant and the excuses you were going to pour out to her.

Your boss's deep brown eyes rested on you. Thoughts glistened in his irises as you waited. Your hands grew clammy and your cheeks flushed with heat.

"It's alright," he said to your surprise as the hard look in his eyes softened some. "I might start preferring the Monarch."

You didn't understand what he meant but you nodded nevertheless. As you turned around and walked out, you could feel your boss's gaze burn through you back.

Taehyung

Although your friend described the job as his boss's secretary, it seemed more like a personal assistant when they asked you to come a few days early for training. They showed you the programs and gave you an entire protocol sheet of what to say and what not to say - be it to the people over the phone or to your boss himself. You were on call most of the weekends but the salary was triple and you were hoping to save some money so it didn't bother you as much.

You looked up your boss Mr Kim Taehyung before starting today. There was only one normal photo of him that you could find and it was on the company's official web page. Everything else seemed like paparazzi photos. You were surprised of how young he was for such a position and even found an article that ranked him in the ten richest people in the country.

There was no dress code for the job although already in training you noticed everyone was extremely put together. You wore a creamy white pencil skirt and a fitted but elegant top. The outfit gave you some confidence as you were nervous for your first day.

Right at the top of the enormous building, there was your heavy desk guarding the way into Mr Kim's office. You had been in since 8 am but it was five past nine already and still it was just you. You had taken some calls and rescheduled some appointments when the elevator door opened and you saw your friend Lucas. He waited beside the elevator until your boss exited.

Mr Kim had almost walked past you when he finally noticed your presence. One of his hands rested in his pocket and there was a busy look in his eyes until his gaze fixed on you.

You stood up to introduce yourself but Lucas did it for you.

"Boss, this is Y/N," he said, drawing Mr Kim's attention to himself although his sharp gaze lingered on you a moment longer. Suddenly, you realized why everyone was so put together in the office, whether they worked on the first, tenth or thirtieth floor. No matter how hard they tried to look good, their boss would always look better, seeming as if he just walked out of a Pinterest aesthetic board.

His gaze slowly turned back to you.

"I'm Y/N L/N," you said for yourself before Lucas could go on and offered your hand. Mr Kim's body language was like that of an elegant cat - moving slowly but with so much confidence it was intimidating.

He took your hand and gave it an assured but gentle squeeze.

"Kim Taehyung," he spoke with a velvety voice that made goosebumps rise on your arms.

Lucas was about to say something.

"Thank you, Lucas," said Mr Kim instead and dismissed him. Your friend nodded and threw you a reassuring smile before he disappeared in the elevator.

"You have my schedule?" Mr Kim turned to you next. Although his voice was smooth like velvet it was also as cold as ice.

"Of course," you said quickly and grabbed your tablet before you followed him into his office. You told him the appointments for the day and informed him of the more important meetings coming up that week whilst he took a seat at his heavy desk.

"A Mr Kim Namjoon wants to see you. They suggested drinks at the Imperial, tomorrow, 9 pm?" you concluded with the most recent call.

Your boss nodded but the thoughts in his eyes were far from what you had just been discussing.

"Does your boyfriend always insist on speaking for you?" he asked, catching you off guard. Your eyebrows rose.

"W-What boyfriend?" you blurted as your gaze froze on Mr Kim and a sharp breath paused in your lungs. A blush began to creep to your cheeks.

He watched you and you him until you realized what he was implying.

"You... You mean Lucas?" your eyes widened. "We- He- He's not my boyfriend, not at all. We're friends, well, acquaintances - I barely know him," you struggled to form your scattered thoughts. Your cheeks turned fully red now and your mouth grew as dry as if you just had a spoonful of sand.

"Is that... Is that a problem?" you asked carefully as you couldn't read the expression on your boss's face. Even if he told you to pack your things, you wouldn't have been surprised.

"No." Mr Kim's eyes held you for a moment longer before you managed a nod. You took your tablet and excused yourself although you could still feel his gaze on your back as you left his office.

Jungkook

Although they had showed you how to use the programs and how to be most effective at your new job, at least in theory, you couldn't help but feel your stomach churn at the sight of the massive desk waiting for you.

"If you need anything, I'm just a phone call and seventeen floors away," said the HR lady who both interviewed as well as showed you around. "Mr Jeon is on a conference call, otherwise I'd introduce you. He knows you're here, though," she explained and you nodded gratefully.

Before long you were on your own. You signed into the programs and checked your boss's schedule. At first there were just a few phone calls to take and some meetings to confirm. Talking on the phone proved to be less intimidating once you got the hang of it. The only person you actually talked to and not texted over the phone was your mom.

When the phone sounded next, however, and the call came from inside the office, your stomach twisted into knots. Still, you picked up immediately as to not keep your boss waiting.

"They're sending in the files from Kyoto. I want them on my desk by ten," said a voice on the other side before you could even manage a hello. He hung up just as quickly, leaving you without any significant information.

You quickly checked your email if there was something Japan-related in your inbox but there were no unopened messages. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you searched frantically through the programs but you couldn't find anything remotely related to what your boss said. You checked your wristwatch, noting you only had a good fifteen minutes left to complete your task.

You called your superior from the HR office, telling her exactly what he told you. She was at your desk in no time and yet not nearly as fast as you would have hoped.

"Whenever there's something you don't know, call me immediately, okay?" she said as she leaned in front of your computer. "He gets irritated when things aren't done right."

"The Kyoto office sends things directly to Mr Jeon's email, not yours. They don't like intermediaries, especially when it comes to sensitive information."

Your superior logged into Mr Jeon's email.

"I have access to his email?" you asked perplexed.

"His work email, yes."

She warned you about not being allowed to use your boss's email to send out things, only to retrieve files. The documents began printing in the corner of the room but there were dozens of pages and it was five past ten already. Your heart was pounding as your superior rushed to solve another emergency and you waited for the printer to stop.

You fixed your white cardigan top that matched nicely with your dark skirt before you gathered the papers and quickly bound them. You grabbed the heavy pile of documents and gently knocked on the door of Mr Jeon's office.

"Come in," he said as you remembered the rules from the protocol sheet they gave you.

You turned the handle and came inside, your heart pounding against your chest. You were caught off guard when you saw how young your boss was. You had expected a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and a navy blue suit as opposed to someone not much older than you in a plain black t-shirt.

"I said I wanted them by ten," he spoke with the same measure of reprimand and annoyance. He didn't bother to raise his gaze from the papers in front of him.

"I apologize, I was... I had some technical difficulties," you said and placed the documents on the left wing of his desk. Your boss looked up as if awoken from his thoughts. His eyebrows hung in a frown as his gaze followed you.

"It won't happen again," you said and waited a moment, half expecting him to fire you on the spot. He nodded instead and got up. Mr Jeon walked around his desk and came up to you. He stopped no more than two feet away from you, studying you with his dark gaze. It took everything in you not to take a step back. Your heart was hammering against your throat as you did everything in your power to maintain eye contact. There was a ring in his lip and tattoos scattered down his arm.

"Can I get you something else?" you asked, trying to sound as confident as possible although your voice nearly cracked beneath the weight of your boss's frown.

He studied you for a moment longer before he shook his head and returned to his seat. "That's all, thank you."

You nodded and released the breath you didn't know you had been holding. As you walked outside, you could feel his gaze burn through your back but you didn't dare turn around.

[dresshistorynerd]

this might be the silliest question you’ll be asked. As someone who enjoys period dramas and studied history (though not fashion) so notices inaccuracies like fasteners and availability of dyes etc, I nonetheless can dive into the world presented.

I notice the wearing of outerwear the most. In a program set in Regency England, in outdoor scenes, a) you rarely see more than a Spencer jacket or a cape, and b) in a group scene the coverage varies wildly from lady to lady. As if I was out walking with friend wearing a tank top while I had on a turtleneck and fleece vest.

I get costumes tell a lot about the characters but wouldn’t a person look daft and either cold or hot and out of place?

This is not silly! This is actually a very good question! Regency media is often very much confused and inconsistent about what was appropriate in the given situation to wear, but to be fair, it was actually very confusing.

I have seen a lot of people, and I have repeated this before as well, perpetuate the idea that Regency Era had the same concept of casual and formal wear - split to morning, day and evening wear, where the earlier in the day it was the more the dress covered. However, the Regency concept of casual/formal wear followed much closer to the previous era of 18th century. Instead of morning, day and evening wear they had undress, half dress and full dress, which had a bit to do with how much was covered but not much. They were much less formalized than the equivalent concepts of the socially rigid Victorian Era. Which also makes it much more confusing. Undress was usually worn at home or during morning walks and it had long sleeves. Usually it was a pelisse or dressing gown, or could be a simple round gown. Though most garments were not inherently undress, half dress of full dress, since it was much more relevant simple or flashy the garment in question was. A simple redingote could also be undress for cold morning walks. Hair was often covered in undress as well, usually with a cap, but this wasn't necessary for young unmarried ladies. Full dress was basically ball gown - so the most formal dress, short sleeves etc. - and there fore easiest to grasp. Though sometimes other occasions besides balls were as formal and then full dress would be used as well, but not all evening occasions were as formal as balls. Half dress is basically everything else and easily the most confusing and unclear category. Half dress could have short sleeves or long sleeves, used outdoors or indoors, used for less formal evening occasions and promenade walks and visiting casually a close friend and picnic and so on. Basically half dress was anything more formal than the casual home wear and less formal than the fancy ball gown. It was a collection of several different types of gowns really, but the reason they were in the same category was that there was no hard rules on how they should be worn.

At some point I'll make a post on the Regency casual/formal wear etiquette where I go deeper into this.

What specifically sort of half dress someone wore had more to do with age, marital status and weather than the specific occasion (though that could still matter as well), since most garments could be styled in multiple different usages especially by combining them with different garments. Married women and older women were expected to use more covering clothing, while younger women and girls could use less coverage even on a more casual occasion. So for example on a summer outing an older married woman might wear a long sleeved round gown or a light pelisse, while their unmarried daughter might wear a short sleeved gown. But these were not hard rules either. It was sort of closer to how etiquette works today, much more vibe based than rule based. Here's couple of examples from art depicting different scenes, where women are wearing quite different sort of half dresses.

The first one here is from 1815-1820. I'm not sure what the setting is for this harp playing, since the women seem to be wearing outdoor clothing (all are wearing bonnets and one of them is wearing a redingote), maybe they are playing outside? Anyway, the two ladies have short sleeved gowns, one of them has open neckline, the other a chemisette covering her neckline, while the third has a covering redingote.

First image here is a painting named "A young person hesitating to play the piano in front of her family" from 1805. Here's a casual gathering among family on a terrace, perhaps after the dinner (the sun seems to be setting), where the young lady is dressed in short sleeved gown, while presumably her mother and grandmother are dressed on gowns with longer sleeves and covered hair. The second image here is painting of three teenagers preparing to play music on a casual musical evening from c. 1810. The girls are roughly the same age, yet one of them is wearing long sleeves and covered neckline, while the other is not, demonstrating how there was no exact rules with half dress.

The first image below is an illustration "In a cafe" from 1810. The ladies are out, two of them are wearing short sleeved and decollete revealing dresses, while their third (likely married) friend is wearing long sleeves and covered hair and decollete. The second image is an illustration from 1814, and depicts a casual gathering where young people are playing party games. Again there's a mix of long and short sleeves.

So it would not be inherently inaccurate to have Regency women in a group wear garments of varying sleeve length, but Regency media very rarely does it in a way that follows the nuances of the Regency social norms, because it very much depended on the situation. For example no lady would wear long sleeves in a ball. I don't remember every scene but what I do remember of the 2020 Emma they do the whole etiquette really well. And of course Pride and Prejudice 1995 nails it. Still after trying to figure out the nuances of Regency etiquette myself and still quite not getting all of them, I'm much more understanding of movies and tv shows for fucking it up. It really is very hard to pin down. Not that it prevents me from getting annoyed by very obvious mistakes.

[murmiss]

Price's neglected daughter!Reader and kidnapper!Konig

Warning:Brief mention of kidnapping sleeping pills,swearing, possible mistakes in words, grammar. English is not my first language.I might have missed mistakes, don't be afraid to point them out to me.

Finally, everything fell into place and his daughter, his own blood, came home. The days without her seemed like hell, a meaningless confusion of days and weeks, empty and soulless moments of life. But now that Megan was back, nothing mattered. At first, when she first came home, Price insisted that she take an academic leave, but the girl was determined, and with her signature smile and the help of light words, she managed to convince her father to let her continue her studies. She knew the entire program perfectly, which sometimes confused the teachers - how could she know all this? But on the other hand, now she was fine, safe and sound.

When Megan showed up, rumors spread everywhere, and in the tiny town where they lived, calm times finally came. It was as if no one had thought about such basic things and inconsistencies as "why did Megan Price disappear and suddenly appear after almost two years? What happened to her? Where was she all this time?" Everyone seemed to be just happy that she was back.

It was as if Price had come back to life with her appearance.

Clubs, movies, melodramas, a trip out of town to an old family house by the lake? Hell, everything Megan wanted was done instantly with 100% dedication.

Is your phone acting up? No problem, we'll buy a new one, but we'll definitely install an app to track your location. Want a new dress? Order one, here's daddy's card. A party at the university? Oh no, daddy will worry and will wait for you at the university. A few words of concern enveloped Megan from all sides. Price was tracking her, the old lady next door was looking suspiciously at Megan's friend, and the salesperson at the store where Megan went every lunch to buy coffee and a candy bar from the machine, was wary of strange people who were looking at Meg.

It seemed that the entire tiny town had united and protected Megan Price from danger.

Price's colleagues were also the most defensive,

Simon became a loyal "dog" - when Price couldn't, Simon met Megan on his motorcycle. And it didn't matter that you were standing there too, that you also needed a ride home.

Gaz was tracking the location with his devices, Soap was damn busy buying expensive anatomy books, sweets or some complex and unusual wishes for Meg, meeting her after university, like the others.

And where were you? That's right, but on the same day. For some reason, from the very beginning, even your father's colleagues did not accept you, the old lady next door disliked you, considering you "the evil eye of the family", like when you were around, something went wrong with Megan.

So when you suddenly disappeared, changing places with the once missing Megan, no one paid attention. Not your father, not the neighbors, not even the teachers.

But after an indefinite amount of time, it was noticed, and it wasn't your father who noticed first, no. It was the institute. The semester was ending and the session was starting, everyone was taking exams, everything would be fine, but you still hadn't turned up. Then one of the teachers in charge of attendance turned to Megan, deciding to find out what the problem was.

Wednesday, the middle of the day, a woman, a brunette in her forties with a short haircut, dressed in a striped sweater, trousers with clearly ironed creases and patent leather shoes - Mrs. Rocks, stopped Meg, calling out to the girl in a respectful tone: "Miss Price".

Megan, hearing the voice of her philosophy teacher, was distracted, and with a smile turned around, stopping and answering: "Yes, Mrs. Rocks?"

The philosophy teacher came closer, sighing wearily from a week of paperwork. woman stared at her papers, reading the names carefully: "Harris, Bronton, Fox, oh, Price. Megan, I have a serious question for you..." Megan gasped, immediately embarrassed, her eyes still on Mrs. Rocks's speech. "The thing is, your little sister hasn't been around lately. She's had quite a few absences."

Megan sighs sadly, looks down at the floor and fidgets in one place, adjusting her backpack, saying with anxiety in her voice: "Oh, miss.. If only it were that simple.. My little sister is very ill, she is with her mother in Germany now.. We did not want to tell anyone, but it is very serious..". Woman looks up from the documents and looks at the young lady in front of her in surprise. Her heart squeezes at the thought of how hard it is for Megan and her family right now, and she, losing all sternness, replies: "I am very sorry, Miss Price.. I wish your family could get over this as soon as possible..". Woman pauses and after a few moments continues: "Your sister can send assignments by mail, e-mail. I think this will help her stay afloat for a while."

Megan smiles faintly and sincerely replies: "Thank you, Miss, your understanding is very valuable to us" and almost immediately, the girl reaches out to hug the philosophy teacher. This informal gesture was the final note of the game that Megan started. Woman, not expecting a hug, turned out to be damn upset and feeling the mother's protectiveness, the desire to help, hugged Meg back, repeating once again: "I sympathize with your family, Miss Price.."

It was already a dark night, little was clear, but you didn't want to ask questions. Chemistry, anatomy, histology and other subjects were exhausting and torturous, especially when they were difficult for you, so when Konig brought you to his house, you weren't even scared. Was he a friend of your father's? Yes, and that was enough.

The living room was quite dark, despite the light gray wallpaper. The furniture was dark, a black terry blanket was laid out on the wide sofa, and there were strange pictures of owls on the pillows. They were so stupid that you couldn't stand it, grabbed one of them and started squeezing it.

"Tea, coffee? Cherry juice, orange juice?" - you were interrupted by Konig's voice, who entered the living room, in his hands he was holding a gray plastic tray with plates of snacks. The first one, with a tiny red flower, had strawberry marshmallows, the blue flat plate had cookies with marshmallow layers, and the orange deep bowl had little fish cookies mixed in with wafers laid on top.

So delicious. Oh, your father never cared what you drank, like tea or something sweet you wanted.

"Is anyone else coming?" you ask, expecting to see his wife, maybe his girlfriend, or someone from Price's group, because the portion was too big.

"No, just us," he says, sitting down next to you, slowly, as if approaching a fawn that is about to break free and run away. Sitting down next to you, you notice his size again: he is big, an incredible mountain of muscle. He was nervously stroking his knee, holding his head up, he sat tensely, squinting at you and saying nothing. A fucking weird guy, oh well.

"Oh, yeah, right, what drink?" he immediately stands up, couch creaks under his weight, and he immediately turns to you

"tea," you interrupt, sighing tiredly and stretching out your leg, leaning back on the back of the couch and propping your head up with your hand, sitting sideways to him, stretched out like a doe.

He swallows nervously, not taking his eyes off you, but, having come to his senses, immediately heads to the kitchen. His gait was strange, his legs were shaking slightly, and his arms were dangling, as if they were separate. Before he finally disappeared, he glanced at your figure. You had already turned away, resting your head on your hands and looking boredly behind the sofa.

His palms were sweat, hands were shaking, and his head was spinning from just thinking. He took the teapot, the mug with lilies and splashed boiling water, mixing it with the tea leaves. Then he looked around again, checking where you were, and making sure that you had not moved from your place, sitting just as beautifully and perfectly, Konig reached for the sugar bowl, and damn! immediately knocking over the neighboring cans. "Fuck!" - curses flew from his lips. From nerves, he shook even more. Hearing a quiet question: "What happened?", Konig, stuttering, answers: "Everything is fine, Mein Engel." and again grabs the spoon and nervously stirs the sleeping pill, biting his lip.

"He's taking so long," flashes through your mind. You sigh tiredly and look down at your phone. "7:00 p.m." You damn well need to go home and you'll probably have to make do with cookies. You get to your feet, wanting to go home, to ask Konig to take you there, cursing under your breath - if your father notices, he'll scold you.

"Where are you going?" - a confused deep voice sounds nearby, you come to your senses almost instantly and look at him in confusion, saying: "I need to go home", to which Konig only laughs and, putting the mugs on the table, casually puts his hand on the small of your back. Light pressure is enough to make you sit back. At first you want to be indignant, but then you think again: your father wouldn't care, where are you rushing to? What are you even worried about?

"Guests shouldn't leave hungry" - he answers boldly, sitting down next to you again, this time more casually, the sofa creaks again and you jump slightly when the sofa springs from the Konig's weight.

"I thought my father would worry" - you answer, shrugging your shoulders and thoughts fly through your head about how damn stupid all this is. Konig laughs, and your cheeks flush with shame, as if he knew about your suffering, as if he was ridiculing your stupid thoughts about Price remembering you, especially now that Megan was found. You feel like a Dumbass.

You sigh for the umpteenth time, reach out and take the mug, bring it to your lips and take a small sip. The hot, sweet liquid runs down your throat, burning it, and a strange taste settles on your tongue. It must be some kind of specific, unusual tea. You look at Konig again. What a strange mask he has.

Konig smiles to himself, his hands are shaking, and his eyes are wide, as if looking into his very soul. He put on his usual hood, comfortable and hiding any strange facial expressions.

You feel relaxed, as if a heavy load fell off your shoulders in an instant. You immediately stretch your legs, reach for the tray and grab a cookie with marshmallow inside, put it in your mouth, biting off and smacking your lips with pleasure. For some reason it seemed five times tastier. You take another cookie, then a marshmallow, then you take a fish-shaped cookie and smile involuntarily.

"So funny" - you look at Konig, and he looks like stone, frozen in anticipation

For some reason you feel sleepy...

Third chapter is in progress, it will be more interesting there.I'm sorry that this chapter didn't come out for a long time.

If you need to be mentioned in the following chapters, write to me.,

@veryrawknees , @fightmebissh

Part one

[blueblossomrose]

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, fem!afab!mc, fluffy, too much fluffy, twst boys with teenage children. And questionable humor, of course. My trademark.

Notes: So, my country is in summer and here in Brazil summer is naturally hot since it's ahem, tropical country, but this year summer has been ABSOLUTE HELL abnormally hot so I need something to keep from going crazy. Preferably air conditioning on 24 hours, but since I don't have that option, I'm going to turn my frustration into fluffy.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Summer Season

The Queendom of Roses had never faced such an intense heat wave. Soon its residents were euphoric, especially certain not-so-eccentric families.

It was frankly absurd. People were already waking up exhausted, walking through the streets like zombies, the heat coming directly from the sun almost like it's melting their brains.

Everything was so hot that it was torture to be outside during the middle of the day.

It got to the point that the air conditioning in Riddle's office simply broke down. He spent the whole day attending to restless children and stressed mothers, amidst sweaty papers and a weak fan that only threw hot air from one side to the other. When he finally got home, sweaty and breathing heavily, his patience was already exhausted.

In this situation, it was absolutely unthinkable to stay home listening to his children complaining about the heat all day. [Name]'s suggestion, said with a carefree smile while fanning her face with a magazine, was that they go to the beach.

Riddle, of course, initially refused. The thought of sand sticking to his skin and the sun that would burn until his whole body was red made him even more exhausted.

But after the insistence of the two of them —his wife and daughter — he had to sigh and give in.

Now, there he was, sitting under a red-and-white striped umbrella, a wide-brimmed hat protecting his fair skin. His blue-gray eyes narrowed as he watched Violete, who was trying to sneak away to the water.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Riddle asked, his voice firm but not exactly stern.

“Uhhh… swimming?” the girl replied, as if it were obvious.

“I told you about that. Not without putting on sunscreen,” Riddle said flatly, pointing to the bottle in the bag next to him. The girl rolled her eyes and grumbled, but eventually reluctantly went back to her mother to apply sunscreen.

Meanwhile, Alex was sitting quietly under the umbrella next to [Name]. He shared the chair with his mother, who laughed softly at Violete's complaints. Alex seemed oblivious to everything, completely immersed in a game on his old blue Gameboy.

Riddle, from time to time, gave his son critical looks. It's not like he hated Alex's appreciation for video games, but God, did he have to have his face buried in that all day?

Alex had been like this since he was 9, when he got his Gameboy, gift from his mother. Now, at 14, he kept the same device, only changing the case from time to time, as if it were a way to personalize his digital adventure companion.

Violete, at sixteen, It was both what you expected and what you didn't expect from a teenager. Energetic and full of life, with a sarcastic and rebellious streak, her excitement was almost contagious. She had her own hobbies which involved video games with her brother as much as books and cricket. She had already jumped into the water as soon as the sunscreen ritual was over.

The short red strands, which she often curled, were now back to their natural state, flowing straight as they got wet. She was swimming happily, challenging small waves, when she noticed a group of people not far away. Two instructors were helping some tourists climb onto a large board, probably part of those leisure programs offered at the beach – canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding, something like that.

Violete swam closer and watched for a moment, until an idea popped into her head. Turning back to the sand, she raised her voice and called: “Dad!”

Riddle, who was finally starting to relax in his chair, looked up suspiciously. “What now?”

“Let’s get on the board together! It’ll be fun!” she shouted.

“Violete, I’m not getting on that board with you,” he replied immediately, with a seriousness that made Alex let out a small muffled laugh on the other side. [Name], next to him, just raised her eyebrows with a look of “let’s see how long you can resist.”

However, Violete was persistent, and his daughter’s insistent expression – the one she clearly inherited from her mother – eventually won out. A few minutes later, Riddle was in the water, visibly uncomfortable as he was guided to the board by a patient instructor and an overly excited daughter.

"This is a bad idea, Violete," he muttered, already feeling regret setting in as he put on a life jacket. "I'm a doctor, I know exactly how many ways this can go wrong."

"Dad, you need to relax!" Violete replied, smiling as she helped him onto the board, where she was already balanced with impressive ease. "It's going to be fun, trust me!"

But before Riddle could argue, the board swayed dangerously, and he grabbed onto his daughter with a suddenness she hadn't expected. "Violette!" he exclaimed, desperately trying to steady himself.

"Dad, you're pulling me under!" she protested, as she tried to steady them both. Riddle, for his part, was focused on not falling into the water, which seemed increasingly inevitable.

He looked back, seeing [Name] on the sand, waving at them with an amused smile. Alex didn't even look – the sound of the Gameboy buttons continued, indifferent to the family chaos that was happening in the sea.

The minutes when Violette guided the board towards the waves were the moments when Riddle despaired the most, although they managed to at least catch a good wave, even though they were completely unbalanced.

Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, the inevitable happened. The board rocked to one side, then the other, and they both fell into the water with a big splash.

When he emerged, wet and irritated, but also, to his surprise, smiling, Riddle heard Violete's crystal-clear laugh.

"See, Dad? It was fun, wasn't it?!" her hands hit the water splashing more water on him.

"Ugh, stop!" even while complaining, Riddle was smiling, sometimes returning the splashes of water on his daughter.

"Huh? Where are dad and Vi?" Alex questioned as he lifted his head, [Name] laughed and pointed, just long enough for Alex to see his dad and sister catch a wave together before falling into the water again. Riddle was almost as desperate as you could imagine while Violete was in front on the board with the biggest smile in the world. A frankly hilarious frame.

The blazing midday sun seemed even more intense that unusual summer in the Queendom of Roses. The oppressive heat made even going out for simple activities like shopping at the Clover bakery a challenge. Still, the frozen treats that Trey made had become a sensation. Artisanal ice cream, fresh fruit pies, and refreshing drinks were flying off the shelves.

One afternoon, sitting at the small oak table in the back of the bakery, Trey rubbed his sweaty forehead as he watched his children play. Tim and Thomas were more interested in hanging out by the fan, while Rose ran around with seemingly inexhaustible energy despite the heat. He glanced over at [Name], who was waving a makeshift paper fan and mumbling something about how hot it's outside. It was then that an idea struck him.

How about take a trip to the falls?

A cool, peaceful place, and the perfect local to cool off.

Rose, being the youngest, immediately jumped up and down with excitement, Tim and Thomas, on the other hand, teenagers already at an age where they'd rather stay home with their phones or their own hobbies, didn't seem so excited. But family trip is mandatory, after all. It was an agreement they made with their parents.

Trey and [Name] arrived at the trailhead with their children, each carrying light backpacks filled with towels, snacks, and bottles of water. Rose bounced excitedly ahead, her small backpack bouncing as she droned on and on about how the waterfalls would be.

Tim, the oldest, trailed slowly, already sweating in the heat, his expression clearly reflecting his displeasure with the hike. “Why couldn’t we just buy ice cream and stay home with the fan on?” he muttered, earning an amused look from Trey.

Thomas, on the other hand, was somewhere in between, half-interested in the hike but clearly dead tired. He walked with his hands in his pockets, backpack and bag on the shoulder.

After a while, the trail opened up to reveal the waterfall. The view was spectacular: crystal clear water cascaded down, creating a refreshing mist that immediately took the edge off the heat. The surrounding vegetation was dense, with bright green leaves and colorful wildflowers that looked even more vivid in the sun.

Rose ran towards the shore, stopping only when Trey called her, asking her to wait while he and [Name] found a good spot for the towel. Tim, sighing, threw himself into the shade of a large rock, lying down like a sack of potatoes. “Wake me up when we leave,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from [Name].

Thomas, however, took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed a handful of cold water and silently approached Rose. “Hey, Rose, look up!” he shouted, pointing to the top of the waterfall. When his sister looked up, he splashed her with ice-cold water, making her squeal.

“Thomas!” she protested, but she was already splashing him back, starting a water fight that soon involved Trey trying to calm them both down so that they wouldn't fall and hurt themselves on the rocks.

Meanwhile, [Name] was standing next to Tim, offering him a bottle of cool water. "You know you're going to want to get in the water soon," she said.

Tim opened a lazy eye. "Only if someone carries me there."

After a while, Tim gave in to the heat and joined his brothers in the water. Trey and [Name] watched, relaxing on the towel on the floor. Thomas and Rose were now trying to build a "dam" with rocks and branches, while Tim stood nearby, pretending not to care but discreetly helping them find the right branches.

As the time has passed, Trey stood up, adjusting his glasses and getting everyone's attention. "Time for a snack!" he announced, grabbing a small cooler with fruit, sandwiches, and some homemade pastries from the bakery.

Rose was the first to run, still dripping watee, while Thomas and Tim followed her. Like three Gremlins, they sat down and ate despite shivering from the cold from the thermal shock of the ice-cold water on the hot climate.

The end of the afternoon was spent peacefully, with the family resting and enjoying the relaxing sound of the waterfall. When they finally started to pack up their things, Rose complained that she wanted to stay a little longer, but Trey promised that they could return soon, eliciting a smile from her. The walk back was less lively – tiredness had finally taken over the trio, mainly Rose who was the central animation. Trey, with a soft smile, carried her backpack along with his, while [Name] chuckled softly at the funny observations her tired daughter even so made about every detail of the trail.

The hot season brought with it an unexpected relief from Cater’s hectic schedule. The scorching sun made everyone crave a break, and for him, that meant finishing work early and finding something more exciting to do with his family. After all, there was nothing worse than a interview in the sweltering heat, with people feeling sweaty and uncomfortable.

With an excited smile, Cater dragged his wife [Name] and children, Astrid and Rory, to a nature reserve by the sea. The place was perfect for disconnecting from the world. It offered ample space to swim and even snorkel with some of the sea creatures, creating a relaxing atmosphere full of photo opportunities that he loved to capture.

Astrid quickly raised her hand, as if she had asked an important question. “Can I swim with the sharks?” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, her light orange hair lightly blowing in her face as she looked anxiously at her parents.

“Why on earth would you want to swim with sharks?” Rory replied.

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh, trying to lighten the situation. “I’m glad you want to go on an adventure, dear, but I think it would be better to start with something lighter, don’t you think?” she looked at Astrid with a calm smile.

Astrid grimaced, not completely convinced, crossing her arms and looking at her parents as if she were going to continue the argument. But before she could complain any further, a hand appeared underneath her, lifting her off the ground with ease. Cater placed her on his back, with Astrid laughing and squealing with excitement.

"Hey, hey! No arguing, let's just enjoy the moment, how about seeing the manta rays?" Cater suggested. "They like getting close to humans, and they're super harmless. It'll be really cool."

Astrid, with her face already lit up with a wide smile, put the grimace aside, agreeing with her father. She was excited about the idea, even more than with the sharks. Rory, still suspicious, looked at his sister and then at his parents, with a slight sigh. He couldn't deny that their enthusiasm was contagious.

And so the family began their walk to the water sports area, with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks and the summer heat enveloping them all. Cater was happy to be sharing this moment with his wife and children, finally having some time to relax and enjoy life outside the chaos of journalistic work. Over the years, he has learned to appreciate life off-screen more.

To escape the hell that was the city that day, Ace decided that the best solution would be to take his family to a nearby river. Nothing too elaborate, but at least there they could cool off without having to spend a fortune on cold drinks or abuse his magic with cooling spells, which were a luxury that he, as someone from the ministry's accounting department, was not willing to abuse.

For a while, everything went peacefully. [Name] took off her shoes and dipped her feet in the water, relaxing as she watched her children venture further ahead. Lilian had already tied her orange-red hair into a ponytail, while Jasper stood with his arms crossed, evaluating whether it was worth getting in the water or if it would be more fun to tease his sister. Ace, on the other hand, already had his feet submerged and was throwing some water up, enjoying the coolness.

It was then that, out of nowhere, the tranquility was broken.

“So, Dad,” Lilian began, crossing her arms and giving him an inquisitive look, “How many girlfriends did you have before Mom?”

Ace blinked in confusion as he finished stretching in the water. “What? Where did that question come from?”

"You had a girlfriend before mom. And you didn't think to tell us, huh?"

Ace glanced sideways at [Name], who just chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation.

“What have you been telling them?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Me? Nothing!” [Name] replied with an innocent smile. “But your brother loves to tell stories.”

Ace groaned softly. His brother... he should have known.

"Lili, I didn't even know your mother when I broke up with this girlfriend!" he tried to argue to see if his daughter would change the subject.

But Lilian quickly dodged him and kept her accusatory expression. "Even so!" she insisted, now going closer to her mother, as if seeking reinforcement. "Uncle said you were a jerk to mom in the beginning! And what about the other girl?! You were nice to her?!"

Ace ran his hand over his face in disbelief. He had faced powerful adverse situations, being a troublemaker at school… but nothing compared to the fury of a teenage daughter determined to seek justice for her mother.

"Is this an interrogation?" he asked, raising his hands in surrender.

"It depends on your answer," Lilian replied with a frown.

"Look, I wasn't the easiest guy to deal with back then," Ace admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wasn't that bad either, okay?"

"What does that mean?!" Lilian insisted.

Ace sighed. "You know what? I'll ask your uncle what else he's been telling you. I mean, I should be enjoying the water, not defending my reputation from sixteen years ago!"

"Maybe if you hadn't been such a jerk, you wouldn't have to defend yourself now," Jasper scoffed.

"Are you two going to go swimming or keep tormenting me?"

Lilian and Jasper exchanged glances and, without warning, threw water at their father at the same time, this one who gasped offendedly.

"Sweetie, don't be so hard on your father," [Name] intervened, placing her hand gently on Lilian's hair, who was still pouting. "He wasn't perfect, but he learned a lot. And he certainly wasn't the only one who made mistakes." she chuckled, stroking her daughter's hair. "Although he really deserves some of the karma, I'd say."

"Oh, for the love of—!" Ace exclaimed, feigning indignation, while Jasper, on the other side, burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the situation. Ace an his wet hands over his face, as if that could alleviate the embarrassment. "This is absurd! Look here, I wasn't that horrible! What are you three trying to do to me, huh? A public lynching? Lili, I promise you, the only woman I've ever truly loved was your mother. No other woman has ever made me feel like she did, you little brat."

Lilian was still frowning. "Really?" she asked, a little suspicious.

"More than serious," he replied, with that carefree expression he always used when he tried to seem convincing. "And do you know what happens to those who don't believe in their dads?"

Before Lilian could react, Ace grabbed her by the waist, in a quick and agile movement, dragging her straight into the water.

She let out a high-pitched scream, taking everyone by surprise. "DAD!" she shouted, between laughter and protests, as she tried to free herself.

Water splashed around, and Lilian, now soaking wet, laughed loudly as she struggled to escape her father's embrace, but Ace, laughing along, held her tight. "Do you doubt me? Do you really think I don't love your mother?"

"I never said that!" Lilian replied, laughing and trying to balance herself. "But that doesn't justify throwing me in the water!"

Ace chuckled once more, releasing her and raising his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, little brat. Just don't question my love for you too."

The unbearable heat that had never been seen before in Queendom of Roses was demanding drastic measures from Deuce. He even thought about taking his family to a place like a beach or a river, but when he got home, he found an unexpected scene in the backyard.

The sound of children's laughter and water jets echoed in the hot air. His children and his wife were completely absorbed in the refreshing game with the garden hose. Matthew, in colorful shorts, held the hose tightly, laughing loudly as he shot jets of water in the direction of his mother and brother. Raphael, smaller and more agile, tried to escape by running clumsily, but was hit full on in the chest, making him let out a shrill laugh. [Name] was also soaked, her white blouse now stuck to her body due to the water, and strands of hair stuck to her face as she laughed, trying to shield herself behind her youngest son.

The scene are completely chaotic.

"Hey!" Deuce's voice broke the moment, firm and unexpected. His serious expression made Matthew's eyes widen and lowered the hose, "What are you doing getting your mother and brother wet like that, Matthew?" Deuce asked, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Dad, we were just-" Matthew started to justify himself, but was interrupted by Deuce snatched the hose from his hands and held it tightly.

A mischievous glint crossed his determined gaze, the same look he used to have in their old delinquent phase. "It has to be this way!" He turned the hose directly on Matthew and Raphael, blasting them with a jet of water strong enough to make them scream and laugh at the same time.

Matthew tried to run away, but Deuce was spot on—he aimed right at the boy’s back, making him squirm in surprise. Raphael, laughing nervously, tried to hide behind his mother, but Deuce quickly changed his target, and soon a cold jet hit [Name] as well. “Deuce!” she shouted, laughing as she raised her arms in a futile attempt to defend herself. “It's not fair!”

“Of course it's fair,” he snapped, amused by the general confusion that ensued. The boys joined in, trying to grab the hose from their father, but Deuce was faster and dodged it easily.

[Name] took advantage of a moment of distraction to run to a forgotten bucket in the corner of the garden. Before Deuce knew it, she had filled it and poured the water straight over his head. The shock of the icy water made Deuce hold his breath for a moment.

"Ah, now you've done it," he murmured, a smile breaking across his face before he charged at them, picking [Nome] up, making her squeal as he picked up the hose from the floor. Raphael and Matthew ran to escape, but Deuce was too fast to them. Within seconds, they were all completely soaked, laughing as if the unbearable heat had been forgotten.

Eventually, the garden became a water war zone, if it wasn't already before.

© blueblossomrose 2025, I do not allow copying/plagiarism of any of my fanfics.