#work life balance and other impossible things

[anonniemousefics]

Dear Nonnie!

Being in my thirties, I am constantly tired, depressed, overworked and running on coffee and a strong desire to live another day because in the end of it I can finally go to sleep (to be woken a few too many times by a wee baby). Which is probably how all adults live. All that being said, my head is full of ideas, characters, scenes from the books and stupid shit like that. I am bot a writer, I actually love to paint. How do I find time and enough will to do something about that instead of just lie there on the bed at my free moments? How fanfic writers find the time to write all that awesome staff?

Please share advice and wisdom,

Your anonymous admirer, still alive.

PS. That scene in the prison cell in Fjorda between separated Inej and Kaz was hot as hell. Loved it. As all your others fics, obviously.

Dear Still Alive,

I love you! I AM you! Well, except for one key difference, which is that my baby is not so wee anymore. He’s in school now, which is a game-changer, trust me. Getting enough sleep at night just isn’t a thing I have to stress about anymore – and someday, that will be you again, too. It’s true! I know people like to tease parents and say, like, “Haha you’ll never sleep again,” but I promise they’re full of shit! You will have long, luxurious sleeps again, and when you do, I think you’ll find you have the capacity to do so much more than you are able to now.

So, first thing’s first: cut yourself some slack and give yourself some love. You should rest when you need to rest. The fact that you want to lie in bed today is not failure or poor time management. It’s very possible that you’re lying there on the bed because you NEED to lie there on the bed. You’re doing so much already!! The urge to lie down is a very real physical response to the super chaotic world we have to navigate, made all the more exhausting when you have small children, and it’s just as deserving of attention as hunger or thirst or any other physical need.

In fact, you’re not just allowed to rest, you’re encouraged to rest – that’s actually a vital part of the creative process! I have exactly zero ideas when I’m pushing myself and anxious and stressing myself out. Literally all of my ideas waltz in when I’m having a long shower, or I’m driving somewhere and I’ve got nothing better to do with my mind, or I’m trying to grab another fifteen minutes of shut-eye before the alarm goes off. None of the magic happens when I’m spread thin and I’m forcing myself to cram in 30 minutes of writing because I told myself I had to or I’ll never make it as a writer (which, believe me, I’ve tried this route and it’s nothing but pain and suffering all the way down. 0/10 stars, would not recommend).

So, here’s the switch I made for myself to help me to start to create again, and maybe you’ll find it useful, too. But be warned: it’s not a quick fix, and it’s actually taken a couple years of therapy to get here. Anyway, it’s this: I made a conscious decision to stop guilting myself and instead to trust myself. When I want to use my free time to rest, I rest. When I want to use my free time to read a bunch of fic or just scroll through Instagram reels, that’s what I do. I trust that my body’s giving me that urge for a reason, just like it does with hunger or thirst, and I try to pay attention to when it stops feeling like rest or fun. Because none of those things are inherently bad, you know? Do them. Enjoy them. We need them. Don’t guilt yourself over them – just try to notice when your brain makes the switch to “that’s enough.”

And then, after I did this for a while, something started to happen. As my nervous system got used to having its needs met – and I’m talking not just the basic ones like food and shelter, but like rest and connection and freedom from shame etc. – then I started to have more energy. I started to need less time to lie down. I started to have ideas again, and I started to want to do something with them, and not just in like a wistful “I hope to do this someday” kind of way, but in like a “This is what I’m going to do now and here’s when I will do it” kind of way. And it started little! It started so little, I cannot stress this enough! If the inspiration hits you to sketch a little scene on a napkin, that is still art!!! You are still an artist, and you practiced art in that moment, and you practiced it joyfully and authentically and you should celebrate that!!! Even, and maybe especially, if it doesn’t look exactly the way you pictured it in your mind (because chances are it never will). And then do it again!!! It’s like a muscle, and it will grow a little stronger every time you do.

And then here’s the other amazing thing that will happen, if you start practice art this way – just like how after you’ve stuck with a workout plan for awhile, you start to feel more energized after a good workout, the same thing start to happen when you’re able to create art authentically, joyfully, and without guilt. It becomes a form of self-care. And I can’t speak for all fanfic writers, but this is entirely why I do it. I work in moments to do it (a thing which is a hell of a lot easier to do now that my kid is in school), because when I do, I actually have more energy now, having gone through this growth process. A lot of the time (not all of the time, but a lot of the time) I actually feel more like myself than I would have if I’d spent time doing something else. It becomes its own reward – but before that can happen, it has to be treated like a reward, you feel me? And that means no guilt when you don’t have time or energy for it and lots of grace for yourself when you make mistakes and it doesn’t look the way you wanted it to.

So, I wish I could offer you like the perfect time management spreadsheet or like access to the secret nanny-swap service we all use (I wish), but, for better or for worse, it’s been my experience that the time and the will to do creative stuff comes with rest and a lot of self love and acceptance. And a kid that sleeps through the night. Sorry about that part. That part just comes with time.

Wishing you lots of coffee and peaceful nights.

Much love,

Nonnie

P.S. - I may or may not be working on a sequel to that one. (I am. It’s just taking awhile.)

#dear nonnie #living out my fantasy of being an underqualified advice columnist #anon asks #ask box #fanfiction stuff #art stuff #work life balance and other impossible things

[ghostlyheart]

Happy Valentines Day!! 💝 I hope you spend the day being haunted by someone you love 👻 (or if you're like me, just eating a lot of heart-shaped candy)

Poll:

#I really REALLY wanted to make a little video for valetines day but I ran out of time 🥲 #maybe I'll do something late over the long weekend #for now I offer you my hot takes that absolutely nobody asked for: #the Arondekars- LOVE LOVE THEM. they're everything. just like wwdits‚ the married couple is my favorite ship. idk what this says abt me #Isaac/Nigel- I think they're really sweet!! I don't think I'm as into them as some people but I do like them a lot #the concept alone is so charming and it's a choice that establishes the show a bit from the original that I think works really well #Isaac's awkwardness and hesitancy to move things forward is SO relatable to my experience as a baby lesbian and I find it really endearing #Flower/Thorfinn- I'm not super into them I'm sorry 😭 I don't hate it but I also don't really feel the chemistry #although maybe this week's episode will change my mind!! #Pete/Alberta- oughh I didn't realize how much I loved their dynamic until I thought about it more #their opposites attract kind of thing is really cute‚ with Alberta helping Pete step out of his comfort zone #and alberta knowing she deserves someone a bit more stable who will treat her better than she was in life (she already knew this but still) #it's a shame bc they're probably the couple with the least chance of getting together 😭 #Sasappis/Shiki- unfortunately there's not much they can really do :') however sass' shiki tree was adorable. what a dork #Sass/Jessica- cute while they lasted!! they weren't able to spend a ton of time on their relationship but it brought out a different side #of Sass that was fun to watch #Hetty/Trevor- absolutely hilarious. I never knew I needed it. I don't ship them in a capital r Romantic way but their chemistry is great #I'd rather see it stay just a fling tbh. also when the other ghosts find out it's going to be SO juicy I can't wait #last one- I really don't want to see the entire house coupled off. The ships are fun but also the friendships between the ghosts and how #they function as a group is the real heart of the show for me I don't want that to get lost. I don't think it's impossible to balance both #so it's ultimately just a personal preference 🤷‍♀️ #wow I didn't realize i had so much to say about this aksjsk #anyway. my prediction for this poll is a close race between isaac/nigel and h-money #cbs ghosts

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[riizebabie444]

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 🌸

🌸 ─── hey all here is a romantic reading to get in the mood for the spring! this reading will look into who your person is (so think carefully about your person) and what they love or will love about you. as always, enjoy!

🌸 ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

🌸 ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

🌸 ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

pile one

who is your person

cards: emperor rv, nine of pentacles, three of swords

honestly pile one your person is coming across like an ex or an old flame. it seem to me that you have shyed away from each other. if you do not have an ex that you are thinking of, it could be someone you meet in the future but you will separate somehow. they will be a very important lover in your life. this person, you or the relationship with them could be immature, generally speaking. you both weren't ready for it. there may have been committment issues or loyalty issues. honestly, i'm thinking you or this person is still hung up on the relationship, or both of you could feel this way.

i do not see this person as your life partner, but the relationship you had with them is an important one in your life. i'm also seeing them as the one that got away. the person who seemed perfect but it still somehow ended with heartache. i also think that for a small number of you, this could be someone from you past who you did not have a romantic relationship with, but there are still romantic feelings involved. overall, this is definitely someone from the past, or someone who will become your past. there is betrayal and hurt here. it didn't end on great terms, but the connection (beginning, during and end) hold significance in your life

could be an ex or someone from you past, someone you may have parted with recently. could also be someone from you past that you have not been romantically involved with or attracted to, however, they do have romantic feelings towards you.

whart do they love about you

cards: two of cups rv, nine of cups, ten of wands rv

they love the essence of you, your true and authentic version. you're not like anyone they've known or been with. you learned how to love yourself even when you didn't want to. they struggled to feel the same way for themselves so they knew you were someone special, someone they could learn from. however, they weren't mature enough to do the same, they could only watch and wish it could be them. they admire you in that way, you can pick yourself up, whereas they need others to help them up when they're down. they honestly compare themselves to you a lot.

nine of cups came up and again, it's making me think of "the one that got away." i think you are perfect in their eyes. they believe you are the perfect person to have a serious, long term relationship with. maybe even marriage. but it didn't work out and they have a hard time getting over it because they know it will be almost impossible to find someone as perfect again. they love how content you are in any situation, you can always see the good things. they often wonder how you can be so content and abundant, without realising that only a small mindset shift can allow them to feel the same. except, they are not ready to grow up in that aspect.

they also love your ability to multi-task. you can juggle so many things at once. even if you feel overwhelmed, you don't show it. when i think about how this person loves you, it's more that you are someone they look up to, someone they wish they could be more akin to. kind of like a role model, and they expected to much while at the same time did not fulfil expectations placed on them. i think they realised they hindered your progress, so they loved that you still chose them and loved them back, at least while it lasted. you can be soemone who tries to do too much all by yourself. although they cared about you, they still loved this about you. they loved that you don't give up, that you're confident you can do all these things. they love all these incredible aspects of you, but in the end the love they gave you didn't express those deeper and truer feelings of their love for you.

pile two

who is your person

cards: high priestess, two of swords, king of pentacles

instantly i am seeing you know who this person is. so if you are asking about a current partner, this reading is about them. if you're asking about your future spouse, this reading will be about them. whoever you had in mind while choosing this reading, it will likely be about them. this is a person who is spiritually enlightening, they show you how to grow, to see the world in a new way. they have a rich inner world and you will feel honoured to have them share it with you.

i do see future spouse for pile two, but i do not think marriage is the necessity for all who chose pile two. it's likely this person will be a serious, long term partner. ultimately, someone who you settle down with for a significant period of your life. they are someone who seeks harmony above all. they don't like chaotic and uneasy situations. even in a relationship, they work on maintaining the peace. they hate arguing. they are very balanced and make decisions carefully. they seem smart both emotionally and intellectually. they have a good balance. they also seem abundant and successful. they are a good provider and they have ambitions they want to share with you.

what do they love

cards: ace of cups, the magician, eight of cups

they love that you are their best friend. i'm seeing friends to lovers here for most of you. it could indicate your person being a childhood friend, or it could be someone you meet in the future who you will be friends with first before exploring anything romantic with them. you are like a good omen to them. i'm seeing that good things happen to them when they are around you more. they think of you like their lucky charm. you spread joy in their life and bring triumph to them. they love how happy and at peace it feels with you.

you could be a particularly energetic person. if not, maybe around them you have more energy or they get so excited when around you. you're like a mood booster for them. honestly pile two your person feels so adorable, they love everything about you! they would always find something new to love about you. if manifestation is a big thing in your life, i'm definitely seeing that they love those powers you have. they love that they can share it with you. they love how creative you are, you can make the most from anything. you always find a way out. i think you may have left something big and important behind when moving through life, and they admire the strength you had to do that. they love that you can let go when necessary, how you always know when to face you fears but also when it's not worth facing them, but to instead leave them behind and grow into a new person.

pile three

who is your person

cards: king of wands, ace of pentacles, five of cups

this feels like a spouse, if you are asking about a current or future spouse. he also feels quite masculine. it could also be a boyfriend or partner who radiates a lot of masculinity. this person is not so concerned with creativity and compassion. he may be a proud person, stubborn also. but he is a good leader. he works well in a team and is empowering to others, often without realising. this person is a doer, he is action oriented. while he may be creative in the way that he makes things or makes things happen, i mean he isn't creative in the sense that he is concerned about hobbies etc. like, his hobbies centre around consuming rather than creating.

i think this is someone you will meet or have met through career, finance or anything work related. maybe not all of you, some could also meet them through friends and family, or online even. he is financially well-off. tends to have stable relationships but most of the time, relationships are not his priority, the work is. deep down your person has a lot of sadness, loneliness, despair even. they have achieved a lot in life, mostly in terms of career or money. but they do have regrets and disappointments. they have things they need to forgive themselves for.

what do they love about you

cards: six of wands, queen of cups, seven of cups

oh they see you as the prize. like, i'm lowkey getting playboy vibes from this person but it's not strong. some of you may be dealing with an extreme playboy, while others may be dealing with a normal guy just with committal issues. but in terms of them approaching you and being with you, it's making me feel like you are the catch and they caught you. and they feel even more successful in life when they are with you. they like to show you off and i'm seeing...if you like being showed off, they will love it. and if you're shy about being shown off, they will still love it becuase they find you so cute. you will be an achievement or milestone to them, and they will love that you are this person for them. someone that can make them feel fulfilled in their unique way.

they love how self-confident you are and although i see some of you have confidence issues, they will still love it because they can relate. i think you will bring them down from a high horse, your humilty and down to earth-ness will give them a new perspective and they will love that you of all people did that for them. they love your compassion and sympathy, your authenticity. how you can be real when they can't. i'm seeing they also love how you embrace them. they daydream about being in your arms. they love how dreamy you are, they think you're ethereal. like, i'm literally seeing you are the person everyone wants to wife/husband up. so when they get you, you can bet they are over the moon. though, you may be a little detached from reality, a hopeless romantic, obsessed with the ideas in your head. it is the complete opposite to them as you are a dreamer and they are a doer. but ther still love it about you. they inspire you and sometimes force you to make something of your goals and ambitions, but they also love that you are on your own path even if it is different.

pile four

who is your person

cards: page of cups, knight of swords rv, the devil rv

i have a feeling that this will be a long term partner or even a spouse, but for some of you it could be someone you meet randomly. you will meet this person out of the blue, and the relationship or love you have with them will be completely unexpected. this is someone who will change you life massively. this connection will be based on intellectual compatibility which may be why you seem so drawn to them in the beginning, and also why this relationship grows deeper without you expecting it to. it will be a very strong bond, but i do see communication issues happening nonetheless.

honestly, for some this could be a person you break up with, or it may possibly end in divorce. for some, this could even be about a current partner but you are thinking about or are on the verge of breaking up. while this this person can inspire much love and many emotions regarding the connection you share, i am indeed seeing negative emotional patterns. so separating from them will break you free from their bad habits. hm i see maybe you could be the one with bad habits, and they are stepping away from you. there are many options with this pile. honestly, while your person seems life they are a long term or serious partner, they are not your person for life. they still love you, but it doesn't feel like a strong or healthy kind of love. so although you may be blinded by love or in a honeymoon phase etc (or this could be you and your person in the future) there is a lot of careless choices made, and lots of forgiving for things that shouldn't be forgiven. you person seems like a strongly emotional, smart person. but they're not the right one for you, i am seeing.

what do they love about you

cards: ten of wands, ace of swords, ace of cups rv

so despite the above descriptions of you person, they do still hold love for you. they love many things about you. i'm seeing that this person feels or knows they are a burden to you, but they love that you still love them anyway. for some it is that gratitude for your unconditional love, even when they're not in the best position. but for others, i do think it is felt more in a negative way. they love you because they know you still love them no matter the way they treat you. they know you won't leave or establish the standards you want in a relationship because you love them either way. i didn't get messages like this one for the other piles, but i am hearing that you really need to examine your lifestyle, if loving them is or will be worth it. they like how responsible you are. it's refreshing compared to their immaturity and carelessness.

okay they also like that you are intellectual, i see a stimulating mental bond. you always find a way to break through problems, even if the pass to success is challenging you make it through. they love your ideas. you could have random thoughts and tell them about it and they find it so odd but so cute and endearing. they love being the one you tell those things to. i'm honestly seeing jobs, projects, work etc. it's not clear exactly how they love those things about you, maybe they love your job, seeing you work, you could be successful at work or in other projects. they love seeing you succeed but i do also see some being insecure and jealous. and others possibly leeching from your hard work. it truly does feel magical with you, they understand your value. but again, there is another message here to focus on your wellbeing. you are repressing emotions and avoiding self love and care in favour of this person and relationship. i'm trying to explain what your person loves about you but all i'm hearing is that you deserve better, make from that what you will.

pile five

who is your person

cards: the artist rv, eight of cups, queen of pentacles

this person could be a creator or a naturally creative person, but they have blockages. their intuition is a mess. they may be or feel disconnected from the world or reality. this is definitely a partner, i'm seeing a current person. if you are asking about your future spouse, this could be the energy they are currently experiencing. they're kind of in a slump right now. but whoever they are, they are working hard to be financially stable. they have abandonment issues. they need a change in perspective, something new and fresh in life.

i see that they are someone who can focus on nurturing, they want to provide for others, and they will get to that point. oh, i'm seeing that their most evolved self will be a provider, a hard worker. not necessarily successful but they work hard and have a warm, generous personality. they would do anything for the people they love. but right now, they're in a rut, so their energy is a little difficult to pick up. they are so caring, and they learn to also care for themselves which they have not always done in the past. i also see they are very talented. they are such a family person, responsible and accountable. i'm really feeling this person will have a mental, spiritual, emotional glow up. when you meet them/this version of them, they will be so down to earth and warm.

what do they love about you

cards: the fool, seven of swords rv, six of swords rv

oh god when i tell you they feel like a fool in love for you. in the past i think they did not believe in a love like this. they thought love, marriage, family is an obligation. they didn't prepare for those things out of a deep desire for it. sure, they wanted love. but it was more because of society or their family telling them it is their duty to have a family or wishing for them to find love one day. so they don't really know what to expect. i'm seeing you could be their first love, first relationship or first person they will ever really love like this. whether you last forever or not, you for sure are this person's forever love. when they meet you and begin dating you, it is like stepping into a whole new world for them. the relationship you have will be a turning point for them. if you are already with them, then your relationship will take a turning point when they go through these personal changes. they have issues from the past but i'm seeing they love you because you understand them, are empathetic of their past, and their mistakes.

i think they may have a dark secret or a mistake from the past. this somehow has a lot to do with their love for you. maybe you forgave them for a mistake, or they trusted you to tell you their secret. it's this kind of thing that makes them love you so much. someone to lean on and trust after a life time of not being able to trust. i think they have tried so many times to change, to make circumstances different or better but it has not worked. but suddenly with you, everything changes for the better. they love that you were their lucky charm, you give them the motivation to keep going. you inspire them so much that even if the future brings troubles, they will jump ahead anyway instead of giving up or being anxious about the future. like, literally turned into a fearless fool because of the love they have for you. they love you so much because they've never had a person like you before who can make them feel this way.

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

#ʚɞ jella’s readings #tarot #tarot reading #free tarot reading #free tarot readings #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot pick a card #tarot pac #future spouse pac #love tarot reading #tarot pick a pile

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 26

Word Count: 4.0K Paring:  Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Requested by @elizabeth916: "Supernatural" Prompt @kinktober2023: Masturbation WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), slight voyeurism, vaginal fingering, masturbation, joint masturbation

Summary: After a hard life and a close brush with death via vampire, (Y/N) is taken in by Bobby Singer and taught the way of the hunters, even if that was the last thing he wanted for her. Add Dean and Sam Winchester into the mix, and she's more involved in the hunter lifestyle than before. Now, Dean is always always at odds with the girl. Even if he was the one who asked her to join them, he's always the one getting in her way. Sam says it's because he's in love with her. (Y/N) just thinks he's stubborn. One way or another, she's gonna find out they're both kind of right.

A/N: whoop, still doing this, I will try to finish before this october 🫣🫣 I've only gotten to season 5 of Supernatural so sorry this isn't more canon-centric

MASTERLIST

Constantly being on the road provided little privacy. Being the only girl in a team of hunters made it harder to have some. Being the only girl in a team of hunters that were brothers made it nearly impossible to have any. 

But (Y/N) couldn’t complain. The Winchesters were the closest thing she had to a family, and they needed her help. 

She had lost her parents at a young age and had made a life for herself as best as she could. She was sent from foster home to foster home until, at eighteen, she met Bobby Singer by chance during one of his hunts. 

A couple of days before, she had been kidnapped by a young vampire as she walked from work and took her back to his nest, where she was fed upon from the moment she arrived. She believed she’d die there with nothing to show for her life other than a rundown apartment and a shitty waitressing job. 

But just as everything had seemed bleak, Bobby had come in swinging a machete around and killed every single one of the vampires that had resided in the abandoned warehouse. Seeing the girl who was barely clinging to life, the man took her back to his motel and waited until she had regained consciousness. 

He was sure she would scream, try to run away, or even hit him. Yet all she did was flutter her eyes open and thank him. She wasn’t afraid, nor was she angry. She had simply accepted what had happened to her as something else she had to deal with. 

“You really ain’t scared of everything I just told you?” he had asked her that night as they ate some burgers. “I mean, I just told you that you almost died because of vampires, and you were more surprised that they put pickles in your burger.” 

“I’ve dealt with worse shit in my life to find the supernatural unbelievable,” she shrugged. “With how my life goes, dying from a vampire is the least of my worries.” 

Bobby had only met one other teenager as nonchalant and used to peril, and he had not been able to help him as much as he wanted to. But he knew he would always regret if he left (Y/N) to her own devices after meeting her. So, Bobby offered her a chance at a different life. Going against everything he had ever believed, he offered her a room at his place and a new job. And she said yes. 

That answer had changed her entire existence. 

(Y/N) took to the hunting lifestyle rapidly, finding it easier than being an eighteen-year-old girl living by herself in a sketchy part of town. She invested all her time and energy to get stronger and faster, wanting nothing more than to become better and better.

Bobby tried his best to keep her life balanced, especially after seeing what the hunting life had done to John Winchester’s sons, Dean and Sam. For years, he pushed her to have a social life and do things normal young people would. Still, he couldn’t squander her determination. So, when Dean called her up one day to help him and his brother find their father, she quickly agreed, much to Bobby’s dismay. 

But once her mind was set on something, there wasn't much he could do; all he could do was hope she’d one day come back safe and sound. 

And that was the day she had lost all sense of privacy. The trio jumped from motel to motel, and there was not enough money for two rooms. Thankfully, there always were two beds and sometimes a rickety couch, not that it helped the choking sexual tension between (Y/N) and the older Winchester. 

From the moment they met, there was an undeniable chemistry between them. Sure, Dean flirted with anything that walked on two legs, but it was different with (Y/N). He wanted much more than just a one-night lay with her. He wanted the entire package–the apple pie life he’d dreamed of. 

But he wanted something different for her—something better than what he could offer. Like Bobby, he didn’t want her involved in the hunting business. He had even begged Bobby not to let her go. But Sam was right. If they had any chance of finding their father, it would have been with her by their side. Just because he had agreed to let her tag along did not mean he didn’t worry whenever they were on a mission. If he wasn’t making sure that Sam wasn’t hurt, he was worried that (Y/N) was, and more often than not, his concern came out more like hostility rather than worry. 

Much like their latest case. The three of them were sat at a diner, a giant breakfast spread on the table before them, and the only one eating was Dean. (Y/N) and Sam had their noses buried in books and laptops, trying to gather all information they could about a particular nest of vampires that had made their home in a small town outside of Detroit. 

The case was particularly personal for (Y/N). The vamps that had been running amok the town had been the same ones that had almost taken her life many years before. Just like Bobby had told her, they left an item of the person they abducted with a star drawn in their blood at the place they were taken from. The creatures looked for easy targets and always hunted in the darkest corners of the night. 

Now, (Y/N) had a plan to get to their nest, but it seemed she was the only one who thought it was a good one. “I’m just saying that it’s worth a try,” she whispered as she sipped her coffee. “I can make myself a target, and they’ll think it’s fucking divine intervention that they got the one that got away. Then you guys can follow and kill them all. I don’t see what’s so bad about that.” 

“Are you fucking serious, (Y/N)?” Dean seethed. “They could kill you on the spot. It’s too risky.”

“It’s the only plan we’ve got right now that could actually end this,” she countered. “Even Sam thinks that it’s good.” 

“All I said was that it could technically work,” the younger Winchester defended. “But I also agree with Dean that it’s too dangerous.” 

“I don’t care if I get hurt as long as we get them.” 

“It’s not about you getting hurt, (Y/N),” Dean spat, slamming what was left of his sandwich onto the plate. “It’s about you fucking dying.” 

“Well, it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she countered with the same anger. “It’s my life we’re talking about here, Dean. Not yours.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth as he got up, grabbing his jacket in the process. “I’ll be in the room. I need to cool off.” 

Sam and (Y/N) watched as the older Winchester left the diner, a cloud of steam almost visible in his step. It wasn’t the first time he had stormed out that way; it was his standard practice when things weren’t going according to his plan. But that moment, in particular, felt different. The energy was different. 

“Okay, he needs to get over himself,” the girl muttered as she slouched in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest. “You guys cannot be the only ones allowed to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good. I know I can get hurt. I signed up for this job just like you guys did.” 

“I don’t know who’s more oblivious,” Sam snickered as he popped a slice of bacon in his mouth. “You seriously don’t understand why he acts like that with you?” 

“Because he’s a total douche with a god-complex?” 

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “Because he likes you and cares about what happens to you.” 

“Oh, come on, Sammy. We’ve been through this before,” (Y/N) said. “The only things Dean Winchester cares about are his car and you. I don’t even fall in the top five.” 

“Jesus, you’re both just so stubborn,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Go talk to him, and then tell me if he doesn’t care.”

“He’s just gonna fight with me.” 

“Go, (Y/N),” Sam exclaimed. “And actually talk to him.” 

“Fine!” the young woman finally relented. “But you’re getting stuck with the research then.” 

“Like that’s ever changed,” he scoffed jokingly. “Now, go.” 

(Y/N) took the short walk back to the motel as slowly as she could, kicking a rock in her step as she fiddled with the key. It wasn’t the first time Sam had hinted at Dean’s supposed feelings for her. It had become his one source of teasing material since they had met for the first time. But she had always taken it as a joke, nothing more—just a quip a little brother used to bother his older brother. There was no way there was any truth to it. And if going to the room proved that, then that was what (Y/N) had to do. 

As she neared the motel, she caught a glimpse of Baby, and a slight chuckle bubbled in her throat. That car was Dean’s one true love, and she knew that. He treated his vehicle better than any of the women he paraded in and out of their motel rooms or even the ones who never made it out of the bars. Hell, he treated it better than her or Sam at times. 

That was the reason she had never admitted her feelings in the almost eight years she had known him. (Y/N) knew they wouldn’t be reciprocated. Dean had never given a single indication that he’d ever share her sentiment. Well, other than Sam’s words. But who could believe him then? 

All she needed was one sign. A simple whisper from the universe that he did share in those feelings. That the reason he fought with her so much was because there were so many emotions bottled up inside him that he couldn’t help how they came out. Just one sign. 

“(Y/N),” she heard an exhale as she neared the motel door. It was raspy and guttural, and she knew it had not come from the wind. “Fuck, (Y/N).” 

She could have been dreaming. In the supernatural world, anything was possible. But the metal doorknob felt too cold in her hand, and the key turned too loudly for it to be her imagination. Behind that door, a scene was unfolding that surpassed her wildest fantasies, and she was the main character without knowing it. 

(Y/N) opened the door slowly, pulling it upward to avoid the whining of the hinges, and she came face-to-face with something she could have only dreamed of. In fact, she was sure she had dreamt it before. 

Dean was splayed in the middle of her bed, his hard cock in one hand and a pair of her underwear in the other. He ran his hand up and down his length, easing his pumping with the leaking precum that stained him. After every few strokes, he’d bring the piece of fabric to his face, taking a long drag before muttering (Y/N)’s name once more. 

His eyes were pressed shut, and his movements were erratic. Dean was close, that much she could tell. She could see it in the way he breathed, in the way his hips stuttered, and the way his skin had grown red and flushed. Dean was reaching his climax with her name spilling from his tongue. 

“So fucking stubborn,” he croaked out as his seed spilled all over his stomach. “(Y/N), fu~uck.” 

“Good to know my underwear didn’t just disappear three months ago,” she grinned as she finally made herself known. “Didn’t take you for a panty sniffer, Deanie.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean exclaimed as he tried his best to cover himself. He pulled the sheets from under himself, pulling too hard and falling to the floor with a loud thud. “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough to know who you were thinking about,” (Y/N) taunted as she approached him. His legs were still on the bed, and his jeans pooled around his ankles while the sheet covered the rest of his body. At any given time, she would have made fun of him; tease him until he begged her to stop. But the heat that pooled between her legs had blurred her mind, and all that she wanted was to replace the hand that was working him. “Something you wanna tell me, Dean?”  

“God, you’re insufferable,” Dean huffed as he tried to get up. “It’s not what you think.” 

“And what do I think, Deanie? What did I just walk into?” 

“I just needed to relieve some stress.” 

“Oh, and do you always relieve your stress thinking of me?” (Y/N) mewled as she knelt down, her breath hot on his skin as she whispered in his ear. He stiffened up at her closeness, trying his best not to touch her. “See what I think, Deanie, is that what Sam’s been telling me is the truth. That you like me and that you care about me. And since daddy never taught you how to express yourself correctly, you just let everything out when you’re angry.” 

Those words ignited a fire in Dean. He no longer cared about his lack of clothing or the situation (Y/N) had caught him in. All he wanted was to regain control. “You think you’re funny, huh?” he growled as he flipped her onto the ground and towered over her. “You think that just because you caught me like this, you know everything now?” 

“I know enough,” she smirked up at him as she fought against his grip. “Matter of fact, I can feel it against my leg right now.” 

“And you think it’s for you? You think you’re the only (Y/N) out there?” 

“I’m the only one you know,” she teased. “And I’m the one whose panties you were sniffing.” 

“It’s just a matter of convenience, (Y/N),” he shrugged. “You’re here. That’s that.” 

“Are you sure, Dean? Because I’ve never seen you hoard the underwear of any of your past playdates. So, why mine? And why were you jacking off with my name rolling off your tongue?” (Y/N) propped her torso up by her elbows, pressing the tip of her nose to his, testing the waters before diving in. “And what if I told you I felt the same way, Deanie? What if I said that I’ve thought of you with my own hand down my pants? That I’ve edged myself for hours thinking of what you could do to me. And it’s not a matter of convenience for me, Dean. It’s the real deal.” 

Dean couldn’t believe what the woman under him was saying. He’d gone so long thinking his feelings were one-sided that Sam only told him the things he wanted to hear. To him, (Y/N) was too smart and too beautiful ever to want to be with him. He wasn’t what she deserved, but now he knew he was what she wanted. 

“Tell me you’re messing with me,” he grumbled. “Tell me this is just one big joke.” 

“Why do you want me to lie to you, Dean? Is it so hard to believe that someone can feel something for you? That I love you?”

“You don’t mean that,” he continued. “How would you know what you feel is real? It’s not like you have a lot of options on the road.” 

“Because I’ve felt like this from the moment I met you, Dean,” she confessed. Her heart had begun hammering inside her chest, begging for a moment of rest. But that was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing she needed. “Why don’t you want to believe that I could feel this way about you?” 

“Because you deserve better, (Y/N),” he muttered softly, almost like he didn’t want her to hear it. “I’m not better.”

(Y/N) knew words were not enough to calm the doubts that drowned his mind, but she knew how she could show it. With a smile on her face, she pulled one of Dean’s hands with her own as she unzipped her pants with her other. She moved their interlocked hands to the wetness that had pooled in her core, pressing his calloused fingers on the aching bundle of nerves that had been begging for attention. “I know what I deserve,” she hissed. “And I know what I want, Dean. I want you.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he argued. But his fingers were telling another story. As if by instinct, his digits had started circling her clit, rubbing circles and shapes over the bud. “I’m damaged goods, (Y/N). I’m no good.” 

“And I’m not better,” she added. “We all have a past, Dean. It can’t stop us from living in the present.” 

“Is that what you’re doing, then?” Dean chuckled. “Living in the present?” 

“We both are, Deanie,” (Y/N) grinned mischievously, knowing she had won him over. “As soon as you give in, baby.” 

“You win, then,” he smiled. “For now.” 

Dean pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s, savoring their softness and their warmth. It was everything he had imagined and more. They moved perfectly in sync, fitting into each other’s empty spaces like they had been crafted for each other. And maybe they were. Maybe they were part of some divine plan and had no idea. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. It was the fact that they were together that made everything just right. 

“So, is this all because of me?” Dean taunted as he teased her folds. “This how you always are?” 

“Yeah,” she sighed in pleasure. “I can’t help it when I’m with you.” 

“Wish I had known earlier,” he grinned deviously. “I would have been taking care of you, (Y/N).” 

“I think we’ve been taking care of ourselves quite well,” (Y/N) teased. “I mean, from what I saw today, you got your system down.” 

“Oh, is that so? That mean you got your system too?” 

“Well, I have not heard any complaints yet,” she chuckled. “I kind of know my body quite well.” 

“Show me then.” 

“What?” 

“Did I stutter?” Dean smiled. “Get up on the bed and show me how you touch yourself thinking of me, baby.” 

Dean slipped an arm under her legs and another on her back and carried her to the bed, where he laid her body softly on the mattress. He kissed his way down her body as he rid her of her clothes, revealing the valley of her skin and marking his path with his mouth. 

“Show me,” he said as he kissed down her legs. “Show me what you do.” 

“You gotta get off me first,” she chuckled. “Or are you gonna do the work for me?” 

“As tempting as that sounds, baby, we gotta even the fields here. And we don’t have much time.” 

With a slight chuckle, (Y/N) situated herself comfortably on the bed, propping her back up with a few pillows. Just enough so she could see Dean’s form. He had dragged a chair and rested it just at the foot of the bed, his eyes firmly trained on the woman’s body. 

Soon enough, (Y/N)’s hands set off to work instinctively. They roamed her body sensuously, squeezing and kneading her most sensitive spots. As they worked their way through her skin, one rested upon her breast as the other made its way between her legs. She spread her limbs wide, giving Dean the show of a lifetime as her digits spread her folds and gathered her wetness before landing on her aching clit.  

She knew it was her hands that were touching her, but her mind quickly tricked her into thinking it was Dean’s calloused fingers running across her body. In her head, it was him that was toying with her clit, it was him that was pinching her hardened nipples, it was him that was bringing her closer and closer to her awaited orgasm. 

But it was clear that it wasn’t. Where he sat, Dean had taken his hard cock back into his hand, pumping at the same rate (Y/N) was touching herself. He slid his hand up and down his length, using his thumb to circle the head as precum coated him. In his head, it was her hand wrapped around him, squeezing softly as he tried to ride out his climax as long as he could. 

“Fuck yourself, baby,” Dean groaned out. “I’m getting close here.” 

“I always knew you were always too fast to the finish line,” she teased, concealing a moan that burst through. “Might just call you two-minute Dean.” 

“You really know how to shatter the fantasy, (Y/N),” he sighed. “Just do it, baby.” 

“Alright, but stop talking, Dean. You’re wrecking my fantasy here.” 

After Dean finally quieted, stifling a moan that was bubbling, (Y/N) continued with her work. The hand that had been touching her chest slithered down her body, sinking into her core as her other hand continued her attack on her clit. 

Moans and pants left her as she pistoned into her cunt, her digits curling at the end to bring her that much closer to her climax. She could see how hard it was for the man before her to keep up with her speed. His skin had started to redden and beads of sweat had formed across his body. His chest heaved quickly, and his movements stuttered as he held onto whatever resolution he had left. 

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned. “I’m so close, baby.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he stammered. “Keep going. Cum for me, baby.” 

(Y/N)’s picked up speed as she felt the tight coil in the pit of her stomach threatening to snap. She had done that dance many times before, searching, pushing, beckoning her orgasm to the brink. But it was the first time the Dean that was before her was real, close enough she could touch him. Close enough he could touch her. 

It was that very thought that had her yelling out his name as her finish washed over her body, drenching her hands in her essence. Close behind, Dean burst across his stomach with her name dripping from his tongue, his eyes firmly trained on hers. 

Dean took her into another rough kiss as they came down from their respective orgasms, her lips so irresistible he didn’t care how out of breath he was. “God, you’re perfect,” he panted. “So fucking perfect, baby.” 

“Was that everything you had dreamed of?” (Y/N) teased with a grin. “Was that what was running through your head when I caught you?” 

“Something like that,” he chuckled as he caressed her cheek. “It was more of a contact sport, if you get what I’m saying.” 

“Well, we still got some time to kill before nightfall,” she offered. “And I’ve got enough for a round two.” 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.” 

As Dean kissed his way down (Y/N)’s neck, a knock on the door startled them apart, sending them scrambling for their clothes. 

“Guys?” Sam called from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay with you two? We really need to get ready for tonight.” 

“Fucking Sammy,” Dean grumbled quietly, his eyes rolling as he slipped his t-shirt on. “We were just getting done talking.” 

“No fighting?” 

“We were very civil, Sam,” (Y/N) called out, trying her best to swallow the laughter that was bubbling in her throat. The pair had gotten dressed in record time, fixing the bed and brushing their hair. She was slipping on her boots when she whispered to Dean, “We are definitely getting a raincheck on that round two, Dean.” 

“Oh, you betcha, baby,” he grinned. “Don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to be caught in the act.” 

“Just be grateful it was me and not Sam,” she smiled before kissing him once more. “Now, let’s go kill us some vampires.”

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[queersolarfandompage]

Hilson Masterlist:

A bunch of fics I’ve read in the last month, month and a half. All works are completed and over 9,000 words per fic.

My Love’s an Arbutus - Rated G

House gets a soulmate, WIlson gets Hanahaki. It ends suprisingly well for both of them.

Handle with Care - Rated G

This is the story of how James Wilson ended up on his best friends doorstep with a baby in a carseat he’d stolen from the maternity ward, and the chaos that followed.

A Thousand Teeth (And Yours Amoung Them) - Rated T

Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back.

Systemic - Rated T

Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis.

Touch Therapy - Rated T

It’s not that House needs the human contact. It’s just that when you’re sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes.

I Never Sleep With Married Men - Rated T

House and Wilson are married. It’s not what you think.

Double or Nothing - Rated T

House kisses Wilson’s cheek as part of an ‘act’, it feels too natural to him, so, of course, he has to turn it all into a game, Wilson catches up pretty quickly. The duckings try to not get scarred for life.

The Line of Thought - Rated T

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase keep on trying to get into the little details of House’s love life. House doesn’t like that one bit.

In the Eye of the Storm - Rated T

House does not want Wilson to invite his subordinates over for dinner, and he definitely doesn’t want them to be stuck there due to an unexpected snowstorm. But could the two of them find what they need?

Drew Stars Around my Scars - Rated T

James Wilson loves Gregory House in secret, but perhaps he is closer to knowing than he realizes.

Oreos, a Cane, and a Hell of a Lot of Diapers - Rated T

Hilson AU in which House and Wilson are waiting for the birth of their two babies. Watch them survive their first few weeks of parenthood along with the struggles it takes to be a parent.

Impossible - Rated T

“Wilson, hey-“

“…This is James Wilson. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Oh.

There was a long, sustained tone, and House cleared his throat.

“Wilson. I’m sorry for what I said to you in January. It was over the line, and I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and… I’ll respect that. I just wanted you to know that I’m…”

He looked down at the flowers.

“I’m sorry.”

House and Wilson both have Hanahaki Disease, and would rather die than give up their feelings.

No Need to Worry (Making Up Your Mind) - Rated T

House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can’t join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson’s problem.

Something to Prove Series - Rated T

Something to Prove

When House suddenly want to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he’d held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

Marathons

House and Wilson decide to let the other people in their lives in on the fact that they’re dating. But no, they can’t just sit them down and tell them. Of course not. That would be too boring.

After School - Rated T

Gregory House is incredibly bored with his life when James Wilson is hired to teach Anatomy & Physiology alongside him at Princeton Plainsboro High School. Though he wants to maintain that same monotony he’s grown comfortable with, House quickly finds out that one school year can change a lot.

Life’s Harsh and Sweet Lessons - Rated T

House and Wilson find out that a simple act of kindness can turn into something so much more for all involved. (I love this fic so much. They’re just gay dog dads.)

Losing Balance - Rated T

There’s a new case for House, in which Wilson gets stuck by chance. The relationship between the patiend and his best friend brings up new issues House and Wilson have to deal with. While the first simply chooses to ignore them, the second is forced to face the changes in their friendship and the influence that the people around them have on it.

Gaseous Nebula - Rated T

After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving on of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answeres. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

Ship of Fools - Rated M

The Captain’s a tyrant and possibly a madman, but when the crew rebels it’s Wilson who gets caught in the crossfire.

Bait and Switch - Rated M

Wilson tricks House into participating in a bachelor auction to benefit the hospital.

Fool’s Gold - Rated M

Don’t threaten what isn’t yours. (Dragon AU)

Old Machines - Rated M

Wilson said, “So we’re just two friends who want to have sex with each other, who aren’t going to do anything about it.”

Spoken with the increduility of a beautiful person with low impulse control. House shrugged.

“We’ve been that for years. Why mess with success?”

Wilson was looking at his mouth. He sounded strained. “I don’t think what we’re doing qualifies as success.”

Not as Easy as it Looks on TV - Rated M

House and Wilson share an intimate moment. the likes of which Wilson had never seen before in their three year relationship. It drives Wilson to realize he wants to marry House, but of course it’s never that easy, is it?

That’s How Strong My Love Is - Rated M

For once, Wilson doesn’t fall into a relationship, much to House’s irritataion.

Fresh Feeling - Rated M

House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else.

Love Is The Drug - Rated M

What happens when two best friends love each other to the point of hating each other? They try to date and sulk about it.

The More It Took Away - Rated E

House has been hiding this little secret of his for years. Too bad it’s coming back to bite him on the ass.

The Escalated Butt Dial - Rated E

He thinks it must be an accident. Because all he hears is shuffling and soft… clapping? He’s about to hang up and laugh because House butt-dialed him while drunk when he hears it.

A very, very obviously sexual grunt. A moan, if more specific. Whatever. Not whatever. He can’t really breath right now, or think; call back laterr.

He wants to hang up. This is an invasion of privacy. This isn’t okay. House butt-dialed him while masurbating, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not like he wants to listen. Right? So. Just hang up.

The One-Eyed King Takes All - Rated E

The classic crew plays strip poker.

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old Series - Rated E

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old

An accidental kiss… and a few taht are not so accidental.

Let’s Take A Breath (Before We Go, Go, Go)

House kisses Wilson to piss off an homophobic patient. It might ahve been his best idea yet.

Keep Me Where the Light Is - Rated E

House has his Earth shattering, (good) knee weakening, life changing revelation about Wilson at such an inopporune time, that he’s tempted to laugh. He would have, if he hadn’t been hands deep in his patient’s organs.

Absinthe - Rated E

Wilson wants a new apartment, House is up to no good, and strange metaphors abound.

Experimental Procedures - Rated E

An offhand comment leads Wilson to test out some unusual methods of pain relief for House. (They’re extremely effective.)

Familiarity (Breeds Contempt) - Rated E

House and Wilson stumble into a relationship, but they run into problems before long.

Around We Go Once More - Rated E

Stuck in a small university town out of the country with Wilson, House is up to day 104, of a ‘grounghog day’ style constatly recurring day scenario. Seeing as the day will repeat, he figures it would be safe to try and seduce Wilson; the one he’s always been attracted to, but never acted on it, for fear it would ‘ruin the friendship.’ This is not as easy as he planned, particularly as Wilson refuses to take him seriously.

Stay With Me - Rated E

House has always depended on Wilson’s friendship, but now he finds himself depending on him for his very life - and Wilson realizes that both mean more to him than he ever realized.

I’ll See You In Court - Rated E

Every year, the council chooses ten alphas to participate in the breeding run — this year Wilson has been chosen. He’ll be forced to bond with whichever omega he knocks up whilst he’s in heat. When House hears, he’s forced to take action. There’s only one way to get pulled from the yearly run, and taht’s to file an intent to bond. And in order to file an intent to bond, you need an omega willing to go through with it.

There’s only a week until Wilson’s heat, but luckily, House knows just the omega for the job.

Things That Go Bump - Rated E

Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what’s going on between them.

If He Spends That Dough (Imma Throw Him a Bone) - Rated E

James Wilson loves to feel needed, so who is hOuse to refuse him?

Money, sex, and love is all you need. In that order.

Howler Tone - Rated E

The calls always happen late at night, and they’re extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way.

House develops a new vice. Wilson, as always, enables him.

He Won’t Tell You That He Loves You - Rated E

In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can’t stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.

A Valuable Friend - Rated E

Wilson has been recieving mysterious late night phone calls. He’s rather House kept his nose out of it - but we all know how well that goes.

Baby Mikey - Rated E

House gets a visitor that will change his life, while Wilson struggles to figure out exactly who he is and where he fits into House’s new life.

Buy Some Time, It’s On My Dime - Rated E

The one where House is a phone sex operator.

You’re So Fuckin’ Special (Run) - Rated E

It was full of pictures.

And all of them are of Wilson.

In Every Lie, In Every Truth That You’d Deny - Rated E

Wilson just needs someone to take care of while he recovers from yet another divorce. That’s all this is.

Ath least, that’s what House thinks.

A Patient’s Guide to Living with ICS - Rated E

House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference.

Hooked (On Feeling Low) - Rated E

There are things even House cannot control.

Can Wilson continue picking up the pieces?

A Modest Proposal - Rated E

Tritter’s case agianst House still depends on subpoenaeded testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusal solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all.

Silk, Lace, and Satin Bows - Rated E

“What’re those,” House lilted, taking a firmer hold on the blanket and tugging, even as Wilson cluched the blanket to his chest, his eyse impossibly wide as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” Wilson gritted out, cheeks flushing hotly. “I just… I borrowed some underwear from Sam. It’s nothing. Just get out, House,” the younger man hissed, clutching the blanket more firmly to his chest.

The Marrying Kind - Rated E

The one where House is a wedding planner and Wilson keeps on getting married.

TGIF - Rated E

House is stuck living the same Friday over and over and over and over again. A Groundhog Day AU with a medical mystery, the pursuit of true love, and egregious references to Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

Correlation Does Not Equal Causation - Rated E

“This… this hasn’t happened before.”

“Most people say that in the opposite situation.”

Alternatively titled: Wilson Doesn’t Actually Have Whiskey Dick

Don’t mind me just adding another fic here.

Grin and Bear It - Rated E

In a world where soulmates can feel each other’s pain, Wilson had always grown up wondering if he really had a soulmate. Sure, he could feel the occasional twinge like that of a bruise or cut without actually seeing one, but he had always chalked those up to random aches and pains that everybody got.

Wilson would keep this mindset until both he and House begin feeling agonizing leg pain, and a realization dawning from it causes Wilson’s entire life and well-being to change forever.

I’m always looking for new Fics so if there’s a fic you think is missing from this list, let me know and I’ll check it out!

#house md #hilson #james wilson #malpractice md #medical malpractice #greg house #gregory house #hate crimes md #house #fanfic #masterlist

[hwaightme]

My star

(masterlist)

⭐ pairing: bf!idol!seonghwa x gn!reader ⭐ genre: comfort, fluff, established long-term relationship, long distance ⭐ summary: many miles might separate you, but they mean nothing when your heart is with him, and his heart is with you. ⭐ wordcount: 2.3k total ⭐ warnings/tags: sfw, semi-edited, horrifically self-indulgent, longing/missing someone, matchy-matchy type of couple, balanced relationship, safe spaces, communication, heart eyes, stress/tiredness, rumination, unconditional love, comfort, being vulnerable, odd sleep patterns, lmk if anything else ⭐ taglist: at the bottom of the fic ⭐ a/n: seonghwa <3 i hope this brings comfort to anyone who reads <3 reblogs, thoughts and feelings appreciated. much love!

Some days were easier than others. Wrapped up in the hustle and bustle, sinking into meetings, letting yourself get carried away by projects. Some days it was easier to forget, at least for a moment, the hollowness that persecuted you with ever-growing vigour. Concealing sentimentality and melancholia, you skillfully navigated your life until you could hide away, and in the comfort of your own, empty apartment, allowed yourself to curl up into a ball in your bed and wonder why it was that some days were like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, while others, like a viscous putrid tar.

Today was one of those days. On edge, impatient and begging for a break, you stumbled over yourself as you counted down the seconds until you could be painfully alone. The hurt had become your best friend amidst all the changes, and you wanted nothing more than to drown in it when the times got tough. Accumulating short ends of a variety of sticks even when things were going well, you were caged in the creativity of your turbulent mind. You did not need enemies, being your own best one. 

Normally, coming home would be enough. It just so happened that you had the cure, the relief, the peace, who would stand and wait for you with open arms. You called yourself blessed - you well and truly were. In a world that was stuffed with defeat and enemies, you had someone who was always on your team. Without words, without explanation, you would be soothed. There was no need to ever dwell on complexities and tear into negativities - they all evaporated after the keeper of your heart, your starlight would embrace you. But when only the echo bouncing off the walls was there to greet your shattered presence, whatever had been gnawing at your defences would draw blood and turn into a brutal torturer.

You slid off your shoes, moving exclusively by inertia left over from powering through your commute. After washing your hands, you decided to forgo the kitchen, ambling towards the bedroom that you had gotten so used to sharing. Ghostly, dim, exhausted interiors that would glow whenever he was around. You touched the switch on the floor lamp, hesitating for a second before remembering what you had been told before - if your own sun wasn’t shining too bright, turn on all the bulbs around you until you believed the same could be done to you. Was the room always this dark?

It was impossible to say when you fell asleep. At some point after changing out of your office wear and into your pyjamas, which consisted of a half-hearted combination of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, along with a hoodie which your boyfriend had made a point to leave for you, you ended up crawling onto the bed, only just managing to lift the sheets and snuggling under into a somewhat comforting huddle of cotton before darkness enveloped you. Was Seonghwa asleep? Was he awake? Has he been eating well, working and relaxing in balance? Questions flooded your mind as your bleary eyes attempted to blink away your sleepiness. At this point, you were not quite sure if it was a mere physical state, the heaviness of your eyelids having become near-chronic.

He was out there, under the same sky, seeing it in slightly different shades, but he was out there. Was he lonely too? Hopefully no negative thoughts plagued him. Seonghwa deserved better. But… you could not help but listen to the little selfish worm in your mind - did he miss you? You could not deny that a part of you did long for the sensation of being missed by him. A lot. You clenched the edges of your, or technically his, sleeves and sighed. Pulling the hood over your head, you shut your eyes, trying to picture the last time you embraced the love of your life. How warm it had been. How safe. Washing away all the anxiety, all the pins and needles of stagnancy that came with unwelcome solitude. How he would say he was proud of you, and how you would be able to sit with him and listen to him talk about his day, running a hand through his soft, tousled locks. You have always been a listener. But what was there to listen to now, except the roaring waves of rumination?

What time was it where Seonghwa was? One quick unlock of the phone that you fished out from under the covers brought you the dual clock that you put on your home screen, and along with it, the realisation that you had slept through the entire evening, and through the majority of the night. Again. He was probably settling down, lying on his bed in the hotel room and playing Animal Crossing. Or did he find something else? Did he have the time and energy to play? Or perhaps there was another schedule that had crept up on your boyfriend out of the blue… You mused in total silence while inspecting the background you had set - a picture from a date some weeks ago. Right before work summoned him to leave once more, and you were left standing by the window, watching as his silver suitcase disappeared in the back of a minivan. Rolling over onto your back, your eyes travelled to the skylight - another companion that attempted to soothe your loud mind with vistas and ever changing colour palettes of the universe above. The skies had been clear yesterday, and you wished that it was the case over there, where he was, too.

Your fingers moved on their own accord, opening the messaging app you two preferred to use, flicking through his and your barrage of back and forth texts, videos, photos, voice messages… a little life in the digital space. It would be a lie if you said there was little communication. In fact, if anything, you knew almost all the details about his activities, him gushing to you about whatever he could, and smiling sheepishly when something had to be kept a business secret. You were proud of him, most certainly. If only you could say this face to face. Then, for a short while, nothing would exist except you, him and endless conversation about everything and nothing as you would be entangled in one another, cuddling on the couch as some drama you two picked would be inevitably forgotten. A new message startled you out of your dream, immediately followed by another, and another that made you scroll all the way back.

> i just found your favourite ice cream at a store here!!!

> oh?

> love i can see you are in chat… are you awake :(((

With a quick turn, you stretched and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, deeming the still-on floor lamp no longer sufficient. Wriggling upwards so you could hold your phone vertically, you pondered how you could write a message that did not sound too desperate. You were perfectly well aware that Seonghwa did not mind a little bit of clinginess - in fact, you had had a dedicated conversation early on in your relationship about affection and he had reassured you numerous times that, especially when on tour, he adored, and reciprocated that fondness and longing. But nonetheless, the annoying bugs that lived in your head and littered it with doubt and anxiety made you want to pull back and pretend like you were unaffected. And so, you kept on writing, and deleting. Writing and deleting. Until Seonghwa took the lead and messaged you again.

> call?

> i’m in my room

> [my star <3 sent 1 image]

The ghost of a smile danced over your lips when the picture loaded - an adorable duck pout, face incredibly close to the camera, but still giving enough space for you to be able to spot the backdrop - a painting, completed in spectacularly bland tones, that served as a prime example of how the hotel where your boyfriend was staying favoured ‘stock footage’-core, if you were to borrow his words. Your gaze could not leave the picture. Your silly, precious Seonghwa, pretty inside and out. On its own accord, your hand moved upwards until it hit ‘video call’, and simultaneously ignited a sudden nervousness. What if now was not really a good time? What if Seonghwa was tired and your less than cheerful disposition would only weigh him down?

“Hello lovely… ah, I see we are matching- wait let me make the light brighter-” you watched as he played with a remote, clicking through and checking his appearance on the screen until he gave a victorious giggle, and pointed at the hoodie, “see?”

“You look so cute and cosy, Hwa… And hello to you too,” you mumbled, settling into a more relaxed position.

“I should be saying that to you, you are literally huddled in bed…”

“Join me,” you suggested, half joking, half hoping that he would play along. Clearly you were long past playing guessing games with each other, as almost instantly, Seonghwa was rushing to his bed, rolling into a burrito until only the top half of his face was peeking out. For the first time in a while, you chuckled. 

“You come here often?” he wiggled his eyebrows before squishing his face into the pillow, only to turn it back to you again, a mixture of worry and love in his eyes, “...can’t sleep, angel?”

“Hmm… if anything I might have just accidentally slept too much.”

“Ah…” both of you knew all the reasons for your behaviour. The same exact ones that prompted your boyfriend to overfill his suitcase with trinkets and clothes that he could sense you would like, or that reminded him of you. Understanding washed over you both as you quietly regarded one another through the phone screens. In moments like these, the many miles that divided you appeared so miniscule that it was agonising.

It was impossible to reach out and brush back the strand of hair that was threatening to poke his eye. It was impossible to fall into a dreamless slumber while listening to his calm, soothing heartbeat. It was impossible to gingerly squeeze his hand - an unspoken ‘I love you’, while floating in his starry eyes. But nothing in the world could take away the sincerity. The promises that turned into actions. This was your person, and you were his. As you studied Seonghwa, you felt the frustration, the pent up rage, the fatigue start to evaporate, leaving behind only a soft cloudlike fuzziness. A crush that would never go away, no matter how many years you would be together. He was your clarity, and with him it was the easiest thing in the universe to look at your troubles once again and see that you could take them on. No challenge on your path could hurt you. Not when he made you feel invincible, and even just by being present, reminded you of how you were simply priceless.

“So… tell me about the ice cream,” you tried, your voice sounding a little raspy. Seonghwa’s face, which had previously been painted over with concern, turned into the brightest sunlight. He beamed, and launched into a detailed recollection of what to anyone else would be beyond mundane. Not to you. Never to you. Never about your lovely star.

As he moved just a fraction, forcing the hoodie to glide forwards and expose more of his collarbones, you noticed that he was wearing the necklace you had gotten together - a two-piece set. Instinctively, your hand moved to feel for the chain that adorned your own neck. Two lego pieces that when put together formed a heart. The epitome of sickeningly sweet couple cooing, but it ended up being the best representation of you both. Unbeknownst to yourself you smiled even wider as the piece grew more prominent against his skin whenever it caught the light that enveloped his room in a warm optical lullaby. The change in your expression evidently did not go unnoticed, as Seonghwa paused, and with a light smirk, sat up to let the light cast wondrous shadows on his features. It was probably silly, how deep you had fallen for him, and how obvious it was, no matter what you did and how you acted. All he had to do was turn his head or say the word, and you would come running all these thousand miles to do anything at all. Really, what was stopping you?

Maybe the fact that someone had to water your boyfriend's beloved pet moss. Or that you had committed yourself to dusting and keeping the apartment pristine despite not being fond of the activity. Or, well, your own life, of course. If anything, your boyfriend would be most distressed if you gave up on yourself. As Seonghwa continued his monologue, now having moved onto discussing the next group activities and travels, you realised you had much to do. Much to work and live for. Distance or not, you were with him. And the least you could do was to balance and maintain a smitten hopefulness. With a partner like Seonghwa, who stopped to check the countdown on his phone to announce that it was only ‘a week, five days, and sixteen hours’ until he would take you to one of the many restaurants he had marked out in the city, you were safe to love hard. Forever and always. And could, in fact, live easy, knowing that while your heart was out there conquering arena after arena, stadium after stadium, his heart was right here with you. Your star with whom you could fearlessly conquer the dark, and celebrate the shimmering dots of happiness that decorated your cosmic canvas. Your story. You and him.

⭐ perma-taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? do consider reblogging <3 thank you, all the love <3

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[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Mitski, what about me is eternal like the.. moon?

I had so much fun doing this

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 1:

'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love mine, mine, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love is mine, all mine, all mine

I'm sitting right in front of your cards in utter awe. I got goosebumps when I laid eyes on your cards, pile 1. Let me begin by saying this: you've seen some DARK and truly terrible times, haven't ya? Even as I say this, it feels like an understatement. There have been times when you were stripped down to bare bones, and you had to "grow back the rest of you." I apologize for the gruesome metaphor (but hey, I'm just the messenger; this ain't really coming from me :p). Maybe you've had to encounter times when you felt painfully lonely, stuck in your head and in your general life too, like your spirit was beaten down. Or maybe it felt as if the universe snatched away something you thought was incredibly precious? But I hear that it wasn't what you thought it was; that's why it had to go. You probably didn't see it that way at all, and THAT'S ALRIGHT because we don't have Spirit's perspective, now do we? I see that you really struggled to put yourself together after that somewhat 'impossible-seeming' loss. It seemed like it came outta left field.

BUT GUESS THE FUCK WHAT. You, my friend, took this PAIN and these fucked up times and turned it into a damn palace of gold. You read that right. What's eternal about you? Your alchemy. Your fire. Your willpower. Your ability to take life by the balls. Your refusal to let it beat you to dust. Your refusal to be small. Literal goosebumps, you feeling it yet? It's your connection to God/Source/Universe. Your faith. Your mastery of your mind, babe. Yeah. You've somehow mastered your mind in this process of putting yourself back together. Acknowledge that ish! 'Cause you really did do that.

Nothing can ever get you to stop dreaming, and much less trying to stop you from achieving them, love. You're a powerhouse of energy, and God bless anybody who ever underestimates that (you included side-eyeing you right now). Not you getting low key called out, haha.

Don't get me wrong, though; being a powerhouse of energy doesn't necessarily mean being in everybody's face trying to assert your dominance, y'know? It can look like silent crying in the middle of the night and waking up the next day determined to overcome the thing that made you cry the day before.

Your light is what's eternal about you. It never goes off. Like ever. Your dedication to learning and growing through whatever, and I mean WHATEVER, life throws your way is what will never die, sweetie. It's like a part of your essence at this point. I hope you're proud of that and know that it's what will bring you to your success in life, whatever that looks like for each one of you beautiful ass people reading this :)

Haha, that's so cute; I just heard Spirit go "you're going places, sweetheart" ><

And with that, let's end your FABULOUS, goosebumps-inducing (btw, I don't say that about just ANYTHING), and awe-inspiring reading here.

Thank you, pile 1, for sharing your energy with me today. I love you guys so, so much and… not gonna lie, I'm low key honored to have been in your presence today. Haha, see ya!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 2:

My baby, here on earth Showed me what my heart was worth So, when it comes to be my turn Could you shine it down here for her?

My god, why is there so much happening as I tap into your energy, pile 2? And I mean it in a nice way, though. I heard T Swift's song "The Last Great American Dynasty" as I was shuffling for you, and I heard Spirit go, "she's sweet and salty," lol. We'll see how all that plays into the reading eventually.

The first thing I noticed was your incredible balance within your mind and heart. It's shocking. Maybe you've been working on getting these aspects of yours to agree with one another and balance each other out, or it's simply your personality, but… pile 2, this beautiful mind-heart balance is what's eternal about you, love. Your peace. Your calm. The childlike innocence of your heart blending seamlessly with your mind's unending curiosity for life. Your emotional intelligence. The way you flow… like water, I heard. Wow! I find that so amazing, ugh, like can we be friends, pile 2? T-T, 'cause I definitely need some of that in my life right now, not gonna lie, haha.

There's that AND then there's a whole other dimension to you where you give 'life of the party' vibes as well. OH, so maybe that's why I heard Spirit say "sweet and salty," like two very different things but produce a wonderful taste together. Complex. Addicting. You make people want to come back for more, pile 2. Mmmmmm! Love that!

You have this laid-back vibe to you as well that a lot of people in your life appreciate. I see that your ability to lighten anybody's day is what's eternal about you awwww. I heard "she's the sunshine of my life." UGH, this is too wholesome for my heart; please save me. You seem to really perk up people's day/week or just life in general. You give, like, Saggi vibes, bro. It doesn't matter if you have that in your chart, but it's just your soul. The eternal aspect of you feels bright, expansive, loving, and so vibrant in energy, my god. You've also got strong feminine energy too… you must be really good at attracting 'cause you're strong in your feminine energy AND you're chill and detached from it at the same time. Effortless manifester, master manifester are some words that come to mind as I describe this.

Your divinity is what's eternal about you. Your 'witchy vibes.' Your embodiment of your highest truth. Your commitment to maintaining this divine connection in your day-to-day. Bro, what's eternal about you is that you can turn any old mundane task/thing into something fun and magical and full of meaning and symbolism. You live life deep, and even though there aren't a whole lotta people who can join you there, you wouldn't have it any other way. It's your raw authenticity, babe. Circling back to "The Last Great American Dynasty" song, maybe you're like Rebekah that T Swift sings about, "the most shameless woman this town has ever seen." People tend to call raw, authentic women shameless, but you couldn't care less. You will forever do what you like 'cause you're a free-spirited divine mystic in the body of a teeny lil human. Love it.

That's all I have for you, pile 2. Thank you for spending time with me! I love you so much <3

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 3:

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you?

Ah, my divine activators. What's eternal about you? Your intensity. BS detection might as well be your middle name. Sherlock Holmes who? 'Cause you're the new detective in town, baby, sniffing out illusions, falsities, fake people, LIES, victim mentality. None of that runs free with you around, I'll tell you that. It's your capacity to hold divine truth, lovingly, which is INCREDIBLY hard, btw. You can't stand half-assed people and people who seem to not have their "heads screwed on straight." Lmao, what kinda people are you surrounded by, pile 3? Ooh, I heard that you're divinely planted where you are so you can activate a lot of people into awakening to their true selves, but it looks like nobody wants to actually awaken. Lmao.

-Side note: My heart goes out to you if you've been surrounded by really difficult and chaotic energies that bring you down a lot. That SUCKS so hard, bro. Been there myself too lately, and it's not a fun merry-go-round to co-exist with. Just keep being your amazing cool-ass self, ok? Things will work out eventually. You already intuitively feel that things will get better, so trust that feeling!-

If I could describe your energy, I would use the Phoenix rising from the ashes symbolism to do so. Ohhhhh, as I told you that, I saw a vision of T Swift's music video of "Look What You Made Me Do," where she comes out of the grave and sings, "Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time." I'm a fan, pile 3. Omg. That's some badass ballsy energy, and I'm so here for it right now. You're the epitome of what psychological death and rebirth looks like. You're the textbook definition. And THAT'S what's eternal about you. No matter where you are or what you end up doing in life, you'll always be able to "rise up from the dead" and do it iconically too. Haha, I literally heard that. Lmao. This ability of yours is an extension of the greater aspect of you - your higher self. Whoa… I just heard you've had this ability for lifetimes and you will take it strongly with you to the next ones as well. Powerful. It's etched in your soul, pile 3. You know what you want and how to get it, even if not immediately; you always do eventually. It's the security you possess within yourself that's eternal, love. Nothing can really shake you at this point. Lmao. You've got a strong-ass foundation.

-Side note: I'm really seeing a healed and fully realized root chakra for you. If you haven't gotten there yet, you're well on your way! Good job! Root chakra work is the most brutal, btw, so… you really have my respect. Haha, moving on-

You have warrior energy present quietly in your personality as well. You give spiritual warrior vibes. You don't prefer to live in it 24/7; it's simply something you tap into when a situation calls for it. Otherwise, I see you being quite heart-centered, full of love, looking at the world with rose-colored glasses. Your inner child is what's eternal about you. Your divine sensitivity and your capacity to hold your emotions without judgment and live big from a place of heart. You embody the energy of water in my eyes, tbh. Life-giving but also destructive if need be, and there's absolutely nothing weak about water. Phew. You are eternal as the oceans are.

Ahhh, pile 3, that was sooo much fun! Thanks for stopping by, and I love you soooo much!

~~~~~~~~~~~

#astrology community #spirituality #tarot #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot cards #tarot reading #pac reading #tarot readers #pac tarot #PAC free reading #tarotblr #free tarot #spiritual awakening #spiritualgrowth #consciousness #mysticism #PAC #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #tarot witch #tarot community #spiritual community #spiritual journey #dark night of the soul #mitski #i love mitski #mitski is my spirit animal now

[jellieland]

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

#once he's sure that the thing he's decided to pretend was not grian is gone #martyn goes back to falling #and wishes he still felt enough grief to be able to cry. #limited life smp #life series #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing #i finally managed to finish this. it took me. a while. #they're narrative foils to the point of absurdity is the thing #they're incredibly similar and also completely different #it's fascinating

[badasbebi]

the cupid project ➛ 1/2

part two

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you and your long-term work crush devise a plan to win a company contest. in the end, you wind up going to extreme lengths to commit to the bit

✦ genre/au: fluff, fake dating, videographer reader, bada's extra sweet here, slight friends to lovers

✦ word count: 7k

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. another unrealistic meet cute that doesn't really make sense. smut in part 2

✦ a/n: another two-parter simply bc my fics are too long. 2nd part is finished and will, again, be posted soon (literally tomorrow). didnt put as much thought into this one as I have with my other stories, which will probably be a pattern from now. still think its fun. enjoy!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"It's been three minutes. Why are we still waiting on people?" Youngj fusses, running his fingers through his hair, tousling it

"Relax, Jae. You called us here last-minute. People are busy," Minho says from where he is sitting, scrolling through his phone.

Youngj's eyes snap to him. "Too busy for an emergency meeting with their boss?" He retorts, raising an eyebrow. 

Minho looks at him, then shrugs. "Well, that's what happens when you hire a bunch of ultra-talented, sought-after dancers. We don't need you," He finishes, swiftly turning back around, sunglasses concealing his eyes. 

Youngj gapes for a second, then seemingly surrenders, slouching back in his chair with a scowl. 

Meanwhile, you're balancing a camera lens in your hand on the sofa across from them, twisting and turning the machinery in your hand as you stifle your laughter. Still being somewhat new to the team, you weren't sure if you necessarily had the right to take part in Minho's teasing. You became an employee at JustJerk Dance Academy only six months ago, after JustJerk announced that they were looking for new hires. However, you weren't a part of their star-studded lineup of top choreographers and instructors. Instead, you were hired to be a videographer and photographer, working behind the scenes to ensure that every breathtaking move, every impassioned sequence, and every dancer was captured flawlessly. 

Which, it was not like it was very hard. The people here were phenomenal enough as it was, making your time spent at work nothing less than a blessing for someone who's long watched dancers from the sidelines. Even better, the members of JustJerk Dance Academy aren't just a group of talented dancers, but also a lovely group of people. They're kind and caring, often inviting you out to eat after a long day of filming or helping you with the things you struggled with. Sometimes, you still got awestruck around them because it was such a far cry from what you were used to. But, it was beginning to feel like home. And, as the days went by, everyone started to feel more and more like family.

Well, almost everyone.

Suddenly, you hear the doors swing open and glance up to see who's arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," A voice rings throughout the room, revealing none other than the legend herself, Bada Lee. 

Even after having passed by her a million times, the woman never failed to take your breath away. She was gorgeous and had an allure unlike anyone else, with a presence that seemed to shift the energy in every room she entered. In other words, she was also intimidatingly cool, which led to you frequently avoiding her because you were, simply, terrified. Though she's always been nothing but sweet and brilliant during your brief interactions, this kindness almost made things worse. It'd be much easier to disregard her if she was an asshole. Unluckily for you, she was one of the most charming people you've encountered in your life, making it nearly impossible to ignore the magnetic pull that's been causing an increasing amount of debauched thoughts and dreams. 

Bada walks toward the rest of the group with an apologetic smile on her face. Her long, black and blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and her baggy clothes were noticeably wrinkled, suggesting that she came straight from practice. Despite her slightly disheveled appearance, she looked as enticing as ever. 

You avert your gaze and continue playing with the camera equipment in your hands, attempting to appear nonchalant. 

"What happened? You're never late," Youngj asks, sitting upright. 

"I was helping one of my students out with a routine and got a little distracted. Sorry," Bada explains with a pout, sitting down on a separate couch next to yours. You keep your eyes on the camera in your hands.

"Don't worry about it, I just need everyone's attention for a few moments," Youngj says, scanning the room. "Is this everyone?"

"No, Redllic should be coming in soon. She was right behind me," Bada says, looking over at the door.

Your eyebrow inadvertently quirks up at the sound of Redllic's name escaping her lips. 

"Good enough, then. Let's get started," Youngj leans forward in his seat, clapping his hands together. "I want to first apologize to all of you for calling you here so abruptly. Unfortunately, this was the only time I had to get you all here together.”

Everyone eagerly waits for him to speak, the air thick with curiosity as Youngj takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting from one person to another.

"So, to clarify, I didn't call you guys here for anything particularly important."

Minho laughs bitterly. "I fucking knew it."

Youngj gives him a pointed look before continuing. "There's a special event that the company is holding and I wanted to inform all of you about it in-person, because even though it isn’t anything to worry about, it is admittedly a bit...unusual for us."

"What is it?" Redllic asks, appearing out of thin air. Everyone, except for Bada, jumps slightly, surprised by her sudden arrival.

"Redllic!" Youngj says, placing a hand on his heart. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Oh, sorry," Redllic shrugs, plopping down next to Bada, throwing her feet onto the coffee table. "What's going on?"

"Right, um," Youngj clears his throat. "As I was saying, there's an event that we're hosting for Valentine's Day. We're calling it the 'Cupid Project.' Basically, you're all going to get into pairs, and you'll be doing a variety of activities together," Youngj explains, his eyes scanning the group, watching the reactions on everyone's faces. 

Ew, is the immediate word that pops into your head. This reminded you of the group projects your teachers forced you to do in school. You can already see how this project will play out, and it's probably not going to be pretty. Based on the skeptical expressions you can make out, you are at least relieved to see that you aren't the only one feeling hesitant. 

"What kind of activities?" Bada asks softly, tilting her head.

"Just activities to get to know each other. Doing things you wouldn't normally do," Youngj replies, shrugging his shoulders. "Jho and I have some planned activities, but the point is for you and your partner to find things to do voluntarily. If we plan everything out for you guys, then it'll be completely forced."

"Wait, wait, wait," Minho interjects, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. "So, you're telling me I have to go on a date with someone here?"

"No," Youngj shakes his head. "We're not forcing you to fall in love or anything. This is purely platonic, just a fun way to bond with each other. And there'll be a prize," Youngj says, wagging his finger.

"A prize?" Minho echos, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. You and your partner will compete against the others and the pair who does the most activities and seems to have actually become good friends with each other will win a reward."

"How are you measuring that?" Hoyeon, another videographer, asks. 

"We'll conduct anonymous votes and collect them at the Valentine's Day party we're hosting," Youngj explains. "But, it's not supposed to be all that serious, everyone. We're just trying to do something fun and, you know, team-build since we've gotten a lot of new hires recently. And, we'll get a good video out of it. We're planning on making a highlight reel of the Cupid Project for our Youtube Channel, which will be nice promotional material, too."

So that's what this was really about: content. Truthfully, you wouldn't have an issue with this if it were not very likely that you'd be the one filming or editing this highlight reel. You internally groan, realizing you'll have to deal with an increased workload because of this clusterfuck. 

"I think it's a great idea," Redllic says, a mischievous smirk on her face. You watch her glance at Bada, who is staring at nothing with an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Well, what's the prize?" Minho asks. 

"600,000 KRW"

Others around the room whisper in excitement. You almost drop your camera. Out of shock, yes, but also because that was exactly the amount of money you needed to buy a brand new camera that you've been eyeing for ages. You've been wanting to record more complex videos, wanting to work on actual music video sets, but your current setup is limiting you. If you were able to get your hands on that camera now, you'd be about a year or two ahead of the original timeline you had in mind. You bite the inside of your lip, hoping Youngj doesn't see the desperation in your eyes.

"Holy shit," Hoyeon mutters. 

The two of you make eye contact, and you already know that the two of you are working together. You were close, having joined the company at the same time and being around the same age. This would be an easy win. 

"Alright, so it's settled, then," Youngj says, a confident grin forming on his face.

"Are we choosing our own partners?" Redllic asks, moving a blonde strand of hair away from her face. 

"No. That would lead to a bunch of people asking to be paired with people they're already friends with, which would make the whole thing pointless. We're drawing names out of a hat," Youngj says, gesturing towards the baseball cap resting on the coffee table.

Everyone collectively groans. You try not to cry. 

"Stop, come on, don't make this difficult," Youngj frowns. "The sooner you choose, the more time you have to prepare. Now, who wants to go first? I already have your names written,"

"Wait, let me go first," Hoyeon volunteers, jumping up and grabbing the hat. She reaches her hand inside and picks a small slip of paper out, then reads it aloud. You bite your lip, praying.

"Howl," Hoyeon declares, holding the piece of paper out for everyone to see. 

Your name is not Howl, but you nearly howl right then and there. Realistically, the probability that you would get who you wanted was unlikely considering the number of people in the room. Nonetheless, it hurt. 

The man with the wolf-centric name quietly stands and moves away from the corner he was situated in. He had been quiet the entire meeting, and most did not really notice he was there until Hoyeon mentioned his name.

"Guess it's you and me," Hoyeon laughs, smiling at the tall figure beside her.

Howl gives her a slight smile, shakes her hand, and they sit back down.

"Alright, Bada. Why don't you come over here?" Youngj says, gesturing to the coffee table.

"The one that everyone wants, I'm sure," Redllic comments with a bemused smirk, causing a clamor of chuckles.

Bada scoffs, and heads over to the table. She reaches into the hat, rustling through the papers. You hold your breath, reminding yourself of the unlikelihood that you'd be the name she pulled. However, as the woman's fingers curl around a single sheet of paper, your heart skips a beat. You feel as if you were the one reaching into the hat.

Bada pulls the paper out and unfolds it, her eyes scanning the sheet. Then, her eyes lock with yours, and your heart leaps. 

"Y/N," Bada calls out, holding the paper up.

You freeze, the room spinning around you. There's no way. 

Bada cocks her head to the side. "It's you, right?"

"Oh! Um, yeah," You sputter, quickly gathering the camera equipment around you.

You hear whispers and feel a hundred pairs of eyes on you as you walk over to the girl. You ignore the feeling of your skin burning. 

"Hey, Y/N. It's nice to officially meet you. I've seen you around a lot," Bada says, eyes warm.

"Yeah, nice to officially meet you, too," You say, extending your hand.

Her hand is warm and soft, enveloping yours like a blanket. Your hand feels cold and sweaty. 

"Interesting," Redllic quips, eyes darting between you two, a glint in her gaze. Bada tears her eyes away from you, giving the blonde woman a questioning look as she retracts her hand.

You take the opportunity to step away, returning to your seat and letting the other dancers pull names. The rest of the pairings are revealed without much commotion, except for Minho's, who loudly complains when he has to partner up with Jaeyong, a good choreographer, but awkward man. 

After all the names are drawn, everyone is dismissed. You're quick to leave the room, eager to return to the comfort of your familiar space behind the camera.

"Y/n! Slow down! We need to talk!" Hoyeon calls, catching up to you.

You turn around, side-stepping out of the way of people walking past you in the hallway. You wait for her to stop in front of you before you speak."With all due respect, I don't really want to talk right now. I just want to record. Then go home, and eat some ramen."

"With Bada?" Hoyeon sings, a cheeky grin forming on her face.

"Shut up," You mumble, rolling your eyes and continuing down the hall.

"Wait, why are you so bummed?" Hoyeon starts, following behind you, "Bada's cool?"

You sigh. "Exactly. She's cool. I'm...not."

"What? Yes, you are. Why would you think otherwise?" Hoyeon scoffs, her eyes narrowed.

"I just," You pause in the hallway again, trying to formulate the words. "I'm a little scared of her, is all."

"Scared?" Hoyeon questions, her forehead wrinkling. "She's nice though. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Yeah, but she's so pretty, and talented, and again, I'm not. Not in the way extraordinary way that she is, I mean.” You explain, shoulders slumping. 

A look of realization dawns upon Hoyeon's face, and she laughs menacingly. "Oh, I see what this is. You think she's hot, and you're a scaredy cat who's afraid of rejection. Case closed. I understand."

"That's not how I would phrase things but, essentially, yes," You concede, turning the corner.

"You're being silly. She's not a god. She's literally just a human being...a very sexy human being but a human being nonetheless. Just talk to her like one," Hoyeon suggests, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, are you not going to try to get that money? I know you want it. I saw that crazed look in your eye once Youngj made it to that fifth zero."

You laugh, "I mean, yes, I really want that money. I don't know if it's possible though. Even if I wanted to reach out to her, she’s so busy I doubt she's planning on actually committing to this. Especially because she's already loaded."

"You don't know until you try you wimp," Hoyeon says, nudging you in the arm.

"Ow," You groan, rubbing the spot in a manner that probably proves her point. "Aren't you going to try for the money too? Where's Howl, huh?"

"We're friends already, it'll be chill. I don't know if we'll necessarily win the money, but, like, we'll have a good time," Hoyeon states, grinning.

"Ugh, gross," You say, sticking out your tongue.

She ignores your immaturity. "What do you wanna do with the money anyway?" Hoyeon asks, leaning against the wall next to an entrance to one of the dance studios.

"Remember that equipment I told you about? So I can start working on sets?"

"Oh, right," Hoyeon says, crossing her arms. "You said that you've been wanting to do that for a while, y/n. Are you really not going to talk to Bada? I’ve recorded with her a few times now and I mean it when I say that she's nice as hell. I feel like she'd probably be down, or, at the very least, will understand if you explain things to her. "

"I'll try. Maybe. At some point. It's not going to be today, though," you mutter, reaching for the studio door before you are stopped by Hoyeon jabbing her french-tipped fingernail into your chest. 

"You better. Or else," Hoyeon threatens, a dark expression coming over her. 

"Move your finger, please," You say, swatting her hand away.

Hoyeon rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Good luck filming. I'm gonna go find Howl. Love ya,"

"Yeah, yeah. Have fun," You wave goodbye to her as she walks down the hall, pulling out her phone.

Once she's out of sight, you release a deep sigh and push open the door, only to be met with the sight of a familiar face. 

"Oh," You breathe.

Bada turns, a surprised expression on her face. "Y/n, hi. Were you coming in?"

"Um, yeah," You reply, slowly entering the room and closing the door behind you. "Are you rehearsing something?"

"Yeah," Bada answers, glancing at the mirror.

"Sorry. I can go-"

"No, no, don't worry about it. If you need to film in here, that's fine. I'll just go next door," Bada says, waving her hand.

You pause, taking a breath. Now’s your chance. "Actually, forget the recording, could I talk to you real quick? About the...cupid thing?"

"Yeah, of course. I was actually hoping we'd get a chance to talk," Bada grins, sitting down on the floor and patting the spot beside her.

You hesitantly walk over and sit down next to her. You take a moment to compose yourself, running your fingers along the smooth fabric of your pants.

"So," Bada prompts.

"Uh," You stammer, wracking your brain for what you were supposed to say. "Um, well, I just wanted to say that, uh, you are really, um, talented. And-oh, this sounds really weird." You finish, running a palm down your face in embarrassment. 

"No, no, it's not," Bada chuckles, a gentle smile on her face. "Thank you, though. But, um, that's not what you wanted to say, right?"

"Right. Sorry," You apologize, a rush of blood filling your cheeks.

"Don't worry. Take your time. We have a lot of it," Bada reminds you, studying the expression on your face. Her voice and words are calming, but her staring is freaking freaking you out further. 

You take another deep breath, hoping to quell your nerves. "Okay. I'm sorry. Uh, I'll try again. What I really wanted to say is, I know that it’s a stupid contest, and that you probably don't care about winning, but I actually really want to participate in that project and win that prize money. And, I was hoping you'd, maybe, help me win?" Before she can respond, you launch into another tangent. "I'm sorry, you're probably busy, which is okay, but I just want to upgrade my equipment so I can get more opportunities outside of-"

"Hey," Bada says, gently laying her hand on top of yours. "Of course I'll help you. You don't have to apologize. I think it'll be fun."

You nearly spiral, but Bada's touch is surprisingly soothing, and you calm down despite your anxiety. 

"Oh, wow. Thank you, so much," You breathe.

"It's not a big deal, seriously. I'm looking forward to it," Bada insists, squeezing your hand.

You stare at her, and her kind, sparkling eyes. What have you gotten yourself into?

You both sit there for a second, a pregnant pause in the air, before you quickly pull your hand away, remembering how sweaty they were.

Bada smiles, unphased. Then, she begins tapping her fingers rhythmically against the ground, a contemplative look on her face as she stares at the space where your hands were previously intertwined. 

"So," Bada suddenly looks up. "If you're just in it to win it, and you really want a fair shot, I think we need to do something a little extreme."

You blink, scared. "What do you mean…extreme?"

She bites her lip and you have to resist the urge to stare. "Youngj said this was supposed to be platonic, so that's how most people are going to approach it. How do we seem better or stronger than other platonic relationships? What’s more intense than that?"

You must be misunderstanding where she's going with this. "Um, a romantic one?" You say, furrowing your eyebrows.

To your shock, she nods. "Exactly. Y/n, I'm saying that we should make our Cupid partnership a romantic one," Bada states, her expression serious.

Your head is spinning. She is taking this much more seriously than you were anticipating. You were expecting to just go out for coffee a few times, and maybe post a picture of your twinning lattes on instagram to sell your friendship. You have no idea how to process this more intense proposition.

"Are you suggesting that we pretend to date each other?" You confirm.

A beat of silence. She leans back slightly, her eyes flickering. "I mean, yeah. Sure," She pauses. "Unless you're not comfortable with that."

"I am," You respond, the lie escaping your mouth with ease. 

Bada's eyes widen and she sits up, a smile growing on her face. "You're sure? If you're not cool with that, we don't have to. I know the idea is a little bit out there. I just, uh, want to help," She babbles, her fingers tapping against the floor again. 

You laugh. Was Bada Lee nervous? "I'm not uncomfortable with it. I trust you. As long as it helps us win,"

"It will, I promise. I'll make it worth your while," Bada vows, her expression determined.

"I can't wait," You laugh again, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

"Cool," She breathes, her body relaxing. "Well, I should go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

You grin, nodding. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Awesome," She smiles, standing up. She reaches her down and grabs your hand, pulling you up. "I'm not gonna be able to actually meet-up with you tomorrow because I have something scheduled, but I already have your phone number. I'll text you."

You nod, distracted and unable to speak as her soft fingers brush against your palm.

"Bye-bye," She waves cutely, her long legs swiftly carrying her across the room. You wave back, her departing smile etched into your brain as you watch the door click shut behind her. Then, you're alone. 

You stare at the floor, processing the interaction. You had just agreed to pretend to date one of the hottest and most intimidating women you had ever met. You had no clue why you did it. Maybe the promise of money and fulfilled dreams had blinded you. Still, the whole thing seemed a little too ridiculous. Too dangerous. 

But there was no backing out now. You already went through the trouble of telling Bada about your desperation, and you told her that you trusted her. You'd have to commit. 

"Well," you whisper, hugging yourself in a soothing motion. "Here goes nothing."

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You fidget within the plush confines of your seat, hesitantly glancing around your dimly lit surroundings as you twist a gleaming piece of silverware between your fingers. Your other hand remains in your lap, afraid to touch the red linen covering your table. Your gaze settles on a couple a few tables away from you, clinking their wine glasses together with pompous grins. It crosses your mind that the wine they're drinking is probably worth more than the money you're doing all of this for, and you make the executive decision to reach for the bottle of wine the woman sitting across from you generously bought. 

When you drop your fork to outstretch your hand toward the bottle, the woman in question seems to notice, hurriedly grabbing ahold of it before you can reach it, and pours the liquid into your glass, herself. 

"Thank you," you murmur, retracting your hand and finally allowing it to fall on the table. 

"No problem," Bada replies, her voice warm and velvety, like the wine. She pushes your drink toward you, and you hurriedly snatch it up to take a large gulp, allowing it to trickle down your throat. The heat of the alcohol soothes your anxiety, and you exhale deeply. 

Your relief lasts for approximately one millisecond. Because, in the next, you're putting your drink down and are being reminded of the predicament you've gotten yourself into. Bada's preoccupation with her menu gives you the chance to observe the way the soft glow emanating from a nearby lamp illuminates her features. The light traces the curves of her face, accentuating every perfect line. Her eyebrows furrow in concentration, compelling you to consider reaching over the table to smooth the lines over with your thumb. When you try to look away, your gaze locks on the pouting of her lips as she focuses on whatever she's reading. 

"I'm thinking of getting the Frutti Di Mare," she voices, snapping you out of your trance. She sets the menu down and looks up, a gentle smile on her face.

"I don't know what that is," you respond dumbly. 

She laughs, the sound light and airy, causing the skin near her eyes to wrinkle adorably. "I thought Italian was your favorite?"

"It is," you confirm, feeling flustered. "I just-the Italian places I go to are super watered down. The fanciest thing you'll see there is fettuccini alfredo,"

"That makes sense," Bada nods, her smile turning playful. "Then, I'll let you know what it is. It's basically seafood. I think it's usually served with pasta."

"Ah," you reply, nodding slowly. "Tasty."

Bada laughs again, and you feel like a scratched CD—unable to get any words out, twitching in place, devilish sounds threatening to enemate from you at any moment. "I'll make sure to order an extra portion for you to try. Unless, of course, you don't want me to."

"No, that works. I'm fine with that," you respond, quickly.

"I figured." Bada smiles knowingly.

Your hand clutches your chest. "Hey, is that a little shade? Did I miss it? Please, elaborate," you joke, leaning forward.

Bada giggles. "Maybe. You've been drinking a lot of that wine. And I think you ate most of the breadsticks."

You glance at your breadcrumb filled plate, then at the half-empty basket of breadsticks. "Oh. Wow. I did."

"You did," Bada affirms, her expression amused. She scoots her chair closer and takes a sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to lick her lips once she's done. You have the overwhelming urge to mimic the motion, but resist, choosing to instead stuff another breadstick in your mouth.

You swallow the last bits of the breadstick, wiping the crumbs off of your mouth, only for a new, smaller, crumb to appear. Bada notices, and when she raises her arm, your breath hitches. You feel her soft hand graze the side of your face, the pad of her thumb rubbing the crumb off your lip.

"There we go," Bada smiles, satisfied. You can't help but lean into her touch, the warmth of her skin a pleasant contrast against the cold room.

You're startled out of the moment when the waiter appears, setting a basket of warm bread down. You jump, moving away from Bada.

"Have we decided what we'd like to eat?" he asks, his accent thick.

Bada nods, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. "Yes, we're ready. I'll have the Frutti di Mare."

"Great choice," the waiter says. "And, for you, miss?"

"Um, Spaghetti," you answer, your voice strained. 

The waiter scribbles down the order. "Anything else to drink?"

"I’m good, thank you," Bada answers, her tone sweet, smiling gratefully at the man.

"I'll be right back with your food," the waiter bows his head, his ponytail bouncing, and swiftly leaves the table, leaving the two of you alone. 

Avoiding eye contact with Bada, you grab ahold of your glass and drink. The air crackles with something subtle, and you find yourself stealing glances at Bada’s pretty face in between sips, your cheeks warming.

But you needed to get down to business. It’s already been two days since you discussed fake-dating, and this is the first time you’ve done anything together. The clock was ticking.

You placed your drink down on the table and swallowed loudly, causing Bada to stop fiddling with the napkin in front of her in favor of looking at you. 

"So," you start.

"So," she copies.

"What's the plan?" you ask, drumming your fingers against the table.

Bada's eyebrows furrow again. "The plan?"

"For the whole Cupid thing," you clarify.

"Oh," she says, blinking. "Right. Well, I was thinking, that this was sort of the plan."

"This being..."

"Dinner. At a fancy restaurant," she responds, gesturing to her surroundings. "People will see us hanging out together here, and it'll get the rumor mill running. I wouldn't be surprised if the media picked it up, honestly. I think it's a pretty solid first step. We're just planting the seeds,"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense. How do we get from here to actually dating?"

She leans back in her chair, pondering the question. "Hm. I don't know. An Instagram post, maybe? A soft launch?"

You consider this. "Okay, sure. But, what would the picture be of? This is all so, vague."

Bada shrugs, nonchalant. "We'll figure it out as we go. We're gonna be spending a lot of time together for the next few days so there'll be plenty of opportunities for pictures. For now, I think we should just enjoy dinner. We're supposed to look like a couple in love right now and I don't know if trying to scientifically plan a soft launch is really giving romance."

"Right," you sigh. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Bada says, reaching across the table to give your hand a quick squeeze.

You're interrupted by the waiter returning, bringing the food. He carefully sets the dishes down, and a delectable smell fills the air.

"Bon appetit," the waiter bows his head and disappears again.

"Thanks," you call after him, taking a moment to observe the meal.

"It looks great," Bada comments, reaching for her fork.

"It does," you agree, grabbing your own utensils. You take a tentative bite, moaning loudly as the flavors immediately explode in your mouth. "Holy fuck."

Bada stares at you, wide-eyed and frozen, a piece of pasta still stuck on her fork.

You blush, covering your mouth. "Oh my gosh, sorry."

She gulps, snapping out of her stupor. "No, no, it's fine. That was just, a, uh. It seems like you really like it!"

"It's really good," you confirm, your words muffled by the food.

"I can tell," Bada chuckles, her voice low and her eyes twinkling.

"Sorry. I'm gonna try not to embarrass myself any more," you say, chewing more delicately.

She laughs softly. "There's no need to apologize. You're funny, y/n," Bada says, the sincerity of her words and the fondness in her tone making heat rise to your cheeks. 

You eat the rest of your food quietly, listening to the bustling noise around you, the sound of Bada's utensils clinking against her plate unusually relaxing.

As you're finishing your last bits of pasta, a group of loud voices and giggles pass by your table. One of the girls, a brunette, notices the two of you and stops.

"Oh, my god," you hear the girl not-so-discreetly whisper, clutching her friends' arms. "Is that who I think it is?"

You glance at Bada, and she's looking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

"Bada Lee and...I don't know who that is? Who is that?" The brunette's friend replies.

You look down, pretending not to hear the conversation.

"I don't know either. You think that's her girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?! No way. They're probably just hanging out or something."

At this, Bada drops her fork and reaches across the table for your hand, grabbing it gently.

"You okay, baby?" Bada asks, her tone sugary sweet.

You're taken aback by the pet name. But, you decide to play along. You smile at her, placing your other hand over hers. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little tired."

"Do you wanna leave, honey?"

"I think I'll be fine," you grin.

"If you're sure," Bada smiles, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb.

"I'm positive, honey bunch," you affirm, biting onto your bottom lip to contain your laughter. 

"Aw, they're cute!" the brunette sighs. "I've gotta tell Sooyoung about this."

"Yeah, we should leave them alone, though. Let's go."

You and Bada watch the pair walk away. As soon as the women are out of sight, the two of you burst into laughter, dropping the facade.

"Did you see their faces?" Bada giggles.

"'Who is that?'" you imitate, your voice high pitched and nasal.

"Baby," Bada says, smirking. 

You laugh, but the endearment sends butterflies to your stomach. "Sweetie."

"Honey bunch," Bada grins.

"Honey bunny," you fire back.

"My love," she replies, tilting her head with a smirk, her voice playful. 

"Lovebug," you answer, raising an eyebrow.

"Is this foreplay?" she jokes, laughing. 

"I mean, if you want it to be, I'm not stopping you," you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself. Bada's eyes shoot up, and you feel slightly mortified and shocked by your own brazenness. 

"Do you mean that?" Bada asks, her voice dropping down an octave.

You open your mouth, then shut it. This is odd. You were regretting your lack of filter at first, but Bada seemed a bit too intrigued by the idea of consensual foreplay with you. She could just be joking, or really committing to the fake-dating bit. The look in her eyes was telling you otherwise, though.

However, you're cut off by the waiter reappearing. "May I interest you in dessert, or shall I bring the check?" he asks.

"Just the check, please," she says, not breaking eye contact with you.

The waiter bows, leaving the table once more.

You opt to stare down at the table. "I'll pay half," you offer, avoiding her earlier question.

"It's on me," Bada says. "I brought you here."

"Thank you."

"It's no problem," she says, a small smile on her lips.

Once the waiter comes back, Bada gives him her card. When he returns to your table with the receipt, Bada locks eyes with you, your heart thumping loudly.

"Let's get out of here," Bada says, and you nod.

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You stand at the entrance of the restaurant, a gentle breeze caressing your face. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your coat, and the chilly air nips at the tip of your nose.

"Are you ready?" Bada asks from behind you. You turn around to look at her, and the way her eyes reflect the light of the streetlamps above you causes your chest to tighten.

"Ready," you confirm, a hint of a smile on your face.

"Alright," Bada says, shoving her phone, which you don't remember seeing her pull out, into her coat pocket. She leads you to her car, opening the passenger seat door for you.

"Thanks," you smile, and she responds with a nod. 

After the door is closed, she goes around to the driver's seat, starting the engine and driving out of the parking lot. You're both silent as she navigates through the streets. You peer out the window, watching the city lights flicker and blur as you replay tonight's events, attempting to ignore the now obvious tension. 

"So," Bada breaks the silence, causing you to whip your head toward her. "You still haven't fully explained to me what plans you have in mind for that camera you're wanting so badly."

"Well," you begin, relieved that she took the conversation in this direction. "I love what I do at JustJerk. Seriously, watching you guys dance is amazing, and the people are the best. But, I don't want my career to end there. I want to do more on top of that, diversify my portfolio and all. What I really want to do is get onto a music video set. Maybe start directing, too. One day."

Bada hums and smiles. "That's amazing."

"Thanks," you grin, scratching the back of your neck.

"With all due respect, though, do you really need the new equipment for that? You do such a good job with our choreography videos. I don't know anything about videography, but I'd be surprised if that alone couldn't get your foot in the door."

"Well," you draw out, considering your words. "That's probably true. But, I don't think I'm that lucky. The equipment will help, the camera will be useful...the lenses will be nice to have…”

Bada frowns. "Have you given it a shot yet, though? As much as I'm going to try my hardest to help you win this money, realistically, there's a good chance that we still won't win. I'd hate to see you postpone your dreams just because of this camera, or because of this project."

You pause, staring at the car's interior, listening to the sound of the engine running, lost in thought. You weren't sure if it was because you admired Bada so much, or if it was something about her tone, but you were actually starting to rethink things. Perhaps you were holding yourself back a bit. 

"Maybe," you simply respond, unable to say much else. 

"I mean, the equipment will probably help," Bada concedes. "But, not having it won't stop you, I'm sure. Our videographers really don't get enough credit. But, you're all great and you're especially amazing at what you do, y/n. The only reason why I haven't gotten around to working with you is because the other dancers keep getting to you first," she admits, bitterly. 

"Wow," you breathe. "Thank you."

"Of course. You're awesome," she says, the confidence in her words filling your heart.

"So are you," you say, turning away from her, trying not to blush.

"I know. You’ve said it already," Bada smirks, and you simply roll your eyes. 

A more comfortable silence envelops the two of you, and the tension from before dissipates. You lean back in the passenger seat, a smile on your face, feeling content.

Soon, Bada pulls up outside of your apartment, and you're disappointed. 

"This is you," Bada announces.

"Yep," you nod.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," she says, smiling.

"Me too," you reply with a matching smile. "Thank you for dinner."

"It was no problem," she states, waving her hand.

You step outside, but, before closing the car door, you hesitate. "Um," you say, unsure.

"What is it?" Bada asks, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Can I give you a hug?" you blurt out.

Bada looks startled, but her expression softens. "Sure," she nods, turning the engine off and stepping outside.

You meet her on the sidewalk, and pull her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her torso and pressing your cheek against her chest. She hugs back, and you swear that you can hear her heartbeat.

"Goodnight," Bada whispers into your hair.

"Goodnight," you echo, pulling away, already missing her warmth.

She opens the car door again, ducking inside. "Text me when you get upstairs," she instructs.

"I will," you promise.

"Great. Goodnight, y/n," she smiles.

"Goodnight, Bada," you reply, watching her drive away. Once her car disappears, you sigh.

As you trudge up the stairs to your apartment, a single question repeats in your mind: What the fuck am I doing?

You finish cleaning up and getting ready for bed approximately two hours later. As you lay in bed, scrolling through social media, a post from a JustJerk fanpage catches your eye. It's a picture of Bada and you together at dinner, with the caption, "Caught on a date?!"

You laugh at the predictability of the situation, and just as you're about to turn off your phone, you think to check Bada's Instagram, curious. She posted a new story.

You tap it, and it's a picture of you, taken from behind, standing outside the restaurant. There are no words attached to the picture. Just one, pink heart.

You smile, saving the picture, and fall asleep with the image burned into your mind.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Three days later, you are stationed near your camera, watching Bada teach. The day after your fake dinner date, she sent you a text describing the next stage of the plan, which was attending each other's events and collaborating in public whenever it seemed right. This initially felt like an excellent idea. You'd been dying to watch and record one of Bada's classes since you started working at JustJerk, and it brought you guys one step closer to convincing everyone you were seriously dating. What could go wrong?

The actual execution of this idea turned out to be much more distressing than you previously imagined. It started this morning when you were filming Minho's class. You kneeled in the front of the room, prepping your camera as Minho made rounds around the studio to talk to his students individually. Engrossed with your equipment, you didn't hear the sounds of the door opening and closing, or the following eruption of loud murmuring. It was not until you saw a pair of sneakers stop in front of you and caught a whiff of a now-familiar sweet aroma, that you bothered to glance up. When you did, you found yourself making eye contact with Bada, holding a bouquet.

"These are for you," Bada said, a proud smile on her face. 

Your jaw dropped and you scrambled to get up, almost knocking the camera over. They were roses, vibrant and beautiful against the dull gray of the dance studio. No one had done this for you before. 

"They're gorgeous," you whispered, accepting the flowers.

"I'm glad you think so," she replied, her smile deepening as she observed your reaction. You cradled the bouquet in your hands, inhaling the smell of the roses with a pleased hum and missing the endeared expression on Bada's face. You certainly didn’t see the way she started to lean forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Shocked, you loosened your grip on the bouquet, feeling nothing but the rush of warmth spread through every inch of you as a result of her tiny peck. 

She shifted back, as relaxed as ever. "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?" 

"Definitely," you nod, clutching the bouquet once again, head spinning.

"Great." She nodded, then made her way out of the studio.

After she left, you turned to face the room, only to be met with everyone’s staring. Right. That is what this is about. Getting attention. Nothing else. 

You glanced at Minho, who had a teasing smirk on his face.

"What?" you asked him, scowling. 

"Nothing," he laughed, then restarted his class. 

Now you are recording Bada's class. Or at least, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. But, having to observe her so confidently lead her students through a routine, hearing her call out corrections with a simultaneously gentle yet demanding tone, noticing how hard her abs are when she lifts her shirt to wipe the sweat from her brow for the last hour? It's been painful. You're so busy trying not to swoon you've nearly forgotten to press record a couple of times.

She suddenly looks at you, flashing a small smile at you accompanied by crinkling eyes. You give her a thumbs-up and quickly shift your gaze toward the camera as if you were busy setting the frame, even though the shot is already perfect.

Bada returns her focus to the class, and the lesson continues. Every once in a while, Bada walks over to you, checking in and asking how everything is going. Each time, she offers a smile, a wink, or some form of encouragement, and every time, it takes everything in your power not to blush. She's clearly playing it up for the audience, but the effect she has on you is no act.

Her students are buying it, though. The moment she gets near you, the girls (and a few guys) start whispering amongst themselves. It's working.

"Alright," Bada claps, signaling the end of the session. "That's it for today. Good job, everybody."

"Thank you, teacher!" they all exclaim, bowing and gathering their things.

You're packing up your camera when you feel a pair of hands grasp your waist. Startled, you drop your tripod.

"Gotcha," Bada giggles.

"Shit, that scared me," you say, placing a hand on your heart.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs. "How'd the recording go?"

"Pretty good," you say, bending down to pick up the tripod. Bada immediately crouches, beating you to it. "Thank you."

"No problem" she says, straightening up, extending the tripod towards you.

"Thanks," you say again, taking the device from her. "Anyway, you did good. It's not going to need much editing."

"Really?" Bada smiles. "Thank you. That means a lot, actually."

"It’s no problem," you grin, suppressing the fluttering in your stomach. "And, uh, thanks again for the flowers, by the way. They were beautiful."

“You are very welcome. Just fulfilling my fake-girlfriend duties," Bada beams, and you have to look away.

"Well, anyway, I should probably head home," you say, avoiding eye contact. "Gotta get started on the footage."

She tilts her head. "Uh, I don’t think so. That’s gonna have to wait for tomorrow,” 

"Huh? Why?" you ask, confused.

"Because, y/n, we're going bowling with Youngj and them? Don't tell me you forgot," she chides, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," you say, remembering. "I thought that was supposed to be later."

"It's 7:30," she says, a slight frown on her face.

"Fuck," you curse, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry, I'll get out of here."

"We have to go there together," Bada reminds you.

"Shit. Okay, yeah, let's go," you sigh.

"Are you okay?" she asks, concern etched onto her features.

"Yes. No. Ugh. Sorry, I just had a lot on my mind today. Didn't get much sleep," you say, rubbing your eyes. It wasn’t a complete lie. Ever since your date at the restaurant, you’ve been getting bombarded with messages from friends asking about the two of you, giving you little time to rest alongside your work for Justjerk. There was more going on today, though. 

"That sucks," Bada sympathizes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," you answer, bluntly.

"Okay," she says, softly. "But, if and when you do, I’m all ears."

"Thanks, Bada. I appreciate it," you reply, and a part of you is telling yourself not to get attached. But the bigger part of you, the part that wants nothing more than to fall into her arms, tells that smaller part to fuck off.

"Of course. Anyway, we should really get going," she says, and you follow her out the door, leaving your thoughts and feelings behind.

read part two

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee fluff #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #lee bada #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #bada lee imagine

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Kaveh and alhaitham working together during cyno’s story quest is driving me INSANE! Not only because what it means for their relationship in that they are both willing to collaborate once more despite the hurt of their argument and the abandonment of their joint thesis, but it’s HOW they come to work together which is indicative of their past friendship and the promise of reconciliation

When alhaitham and kaveh initially became friends, kaveh notes that although their views are ‘complete’, however their friendship only appears to be deepened when he realises that their views are different, but that this is not a bad thing – their differences in their approach to life is not a reason to fall out over, but rather it serves as a way of strengthening their relationship, as their differences enable for new discussions, speculation and philosophies. These are things to be revered and sought after, which is what causes the two to work together on a thesis, which balances these ‘two sides of the mirror’, language (alhaitham) and architecture (kaveh)

When their friendship ends, it isn’t because these things are inherently impossible to align, it is the assertion of a ‘correct’ philosophy over the other which they each believe will help the other – kaveh believes that alhaitham isolates himself from other people, actively harming him, whereas his collectivism and altruism believes in the benefits of working together, whereas alhaitham, with his individualism and egoism, believes that kaveh neglects himself in order to prioritise others, and that this actively harms him. their friendship effectively ends when the comments become too personal, and kaveh rips up their thesis, renouncing alhaitham, with alhaitham removing his name from the thesis (an analysis of their argument can be found here)

In terms of cyno’s story quest 2, the two banding together in order to research the temple of silence isn’t only relevant because they’re working together once more, it’s how they begin working together which is extremely telling. Kaveh notes the emblem on the note paper which the threat to Cyrus was written on, and he claims that he noticed it because of its unique ‘beautiful’ pattern. He draws the symbol for alhaitham, who recognises the architectural signets within ancient architecture – presumably due to the knowledge gained from his and kaveh’s joint thesis. Alhaitham recognises the emblem kaveh drew as the temple of silence’s, and this is the catalyst for the chain of events which follow

There is an inversion of their mirror motif happening here, with alhaitham identifying architecture in the symbol that caught kaveh’s attention because of its ‘beautiful pattern’ – it is kaveh seeing the beauty of language in emblems and symbols and alhaitham recognising the architecture in the symbol that allows them to uncover the temple of silence’s involvement in the matter, and this is what enables a ‘swift’ resolution of the matter, with a good outcome.

The notion of ‘correctness’, as established within a parade of providence, has been cast aside, and this enables the two to appreciate and appropriate the others’ perspective

ultimately cyno's story quest II makes it explicit that that alhaitham and kaveh are ideally supposed to undergo a reconciliation arc which will allow them to finally balance their viewpoints, as suggested in kaveh's character story 5? Which will not only benefit other people but themselves? They are complete only within each other? HOMOVERSE IM GOING CRAZY

#haikaveh #kavetham #cyno story quest spoilers #alhaitham #kaveh #haikaveh meta #im not over this happening in case you couldnt tell #mentally i am in the house of daena along with the coffee cups haikaveh drank #the softening of their relationship is one thing but now that theyre on the same wavelength... #the power they have together im... #what does this MEAN for future events... for the future of sumeru im??? #UNTAPPED POTENTIAL!!! i want it all for them #they deserve to be insufferable <33333

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Nat and Bob are in imminent danger, Bradley is beyond furious about the decisions that have been made. It should have been him up there flying with them. As you count down the minutes until Bradley returns home, the rush of nerves feels more like anxiety than anticipation, and that does not feel good.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Now that you were just a few days out from Bradley's return home, you were starting to feel antsy and anxious. This wasn't the way you usually felt. It used to be a rush of energy thrumming through your body, knowing he'd be back soon to hold you all night, make love to you, and fill the little pieces of your life that were lost without him. But now you just felt unsure.

When you really thought about it, you knew you and he had been missing the intimacy in your relationship for a little while, too focused on other things. The sex was still enjoyable... well, except for the last time when you felt sick with obligation. And he still held you all night. But some of the pieces of your life together felt like they had gotten lost, and you desperately wanted to find them. Because feeling nervous about reaching those previously known levels of happiness and intimacy when Bradley got back was not something you were prepared for.

So you talked to Dr. Genevieve again, and in her cool and collected voice, she said, "If something is broken, you either take the time to fix it, or you abandon it. And when it's a relationship, you don't have the luxury of making that decision alone. Do you want to fix it or abandon it?"

"I want to fix it," you replied easily. 

"And what did your husband say when you spoke to him?"

Your heart thudded in your chest as you replayed the facetime conversations in your mind and whispered, "He wants to fix it, too." 

She nodded. "Then you'll both take the time to do that."

Afterwards, you felt like hiding in your office, because what did that even mean? You knew what you wanted, but you didn't know how to get it. And you tried your best not to focus on your cycle and wanting to get pregnant, but it would have been impossible to forget about it completely. Where was the balance? You were simultaneously antsy for Bradley to get home so you could see if putting in the time to fix things was worth it and also scared that it wouldn't be.

Instead of hiding in your office, you made your way down to get a burrito bowl for lunch. "Is this seat taken?" you asked Jake, kicking the leg of his chair with your boot and nodding toward the empty seat across from him at the small table. 

"Angel," he said, meeting your smile with a look of panic. "You know I love you, right? But I saved it for Cat. Unless she decides to bail."

"Oh," you gasped, a little surprised by that. When you, Javy and Jake had gone out for pizza two nights ago, Jake claimed he was going to let Cat decide if she wanted to try to be friends with him, but you knew he was hoping for more. He sat on your couch with Jeremiah until Hondo showed up, and Jake didn't back down against the glare from Cat's Uncle. "Guess she's into the idea of hanging out? That's good?"

He kind of shrugged. "Listen, all I want to do is make out with her and hold her kid, but don't tell her that, alright? Oh, there she is."

"She didn't bail," you murmured, watching Cat make her way toward you. When she saw the small table with only two chairs, her steps slowed.

"Go," Jake growled, planting his palm against your lower back and shoving you out of the way. "I'll call you after work."

"Jeez," you groaned, glaring at him and heading toward Cam instead.

"Hey, stranger," Cam said as you sat down across from him, and soon Maria joined the two of you. Eating with them was familiar and comfortable, and you didn't have to think about it too much.

When they asked if you wanted to do brunch on Sunday, you smiled and shook your head. "No way. Bradley's coming home on Friday."

Cam smirked and said, "Oof. Lieutenant Commander Mustache returns home to his little wifey after his long, hard deployment. Sounds like a Lifetime movie."

"I don't know," Maria added. "You said long and hard. Kinda sounds like a porno."

You sat with your forehead on your tray as you shook with silent laughter. "Maybe it'll be a bit of both?"

Cam stole a bite of your burrito bowl as he said, "Report back."

-----------------------

Bradley had been chosen as the spare. When Dean told him after he had dismissed everyone else, Bradley knew it was simply to add insult to injury. But he took it on the chin, saluted the admiral, and returned to his bunk.

If Bradley said more than two words to anyone the following day, that was news to him. Nat and Bob gave him a wide berth as they got themselves prepared for the mission, and he appreciated that. He wasn't jealous of them, and he'd been quick to tell them that. And he knew they understood. This was a feeling that came along with the territory, he supposed. But this would mark the first mission he didn't qualify for, and he just needed to take a breather. 

Getting home to you was now his priority, his focus. If he could only be successful in the air or on the ground right now, he was going to choose the ground in San Diego with you. But that didn't stop him from worrying about Bob and Nat flying with Slayer. 

Bradley collapsed back onto his bed with his notebook. He decided to read what he wrote. He hadn't done that yet, favoring scribbling more thoughts and sentiments down every time he picked it up. But reading it from the beginning calmed him down, and just the thought of you made him finally able to fall asleep. 

Bright and early the next morning, he and Bob were both dressing in their flight suits. They walked to breakfast together and ate with Nat. Then the three of them made their way out onto the tarmac. But instead of being part of the main bustle of action, Bradley saluted his friends and stood next to his aircraft with his helmet on. 

The weather looked good, and the comanche was reporting back that everything looked clear. But just before the four aircrafts were due to take off, Admiral Dean made a surprising announcement over the comms. 

"Initiate the backup plan! Option B! Strike the military base first and then head back around to the communications tower. Follow the flight plan for Option B. Please respond that you understand in order."

Bradley climbed the ladder into his F/A-18 as he listened to Nat respond, saying that she copied Dean's orders. This was not a good sign that the plan was changing on the fly. There were probably loads of enemy aircrafts already airborne if such a drastic decision was being made, and Bradley automatically switched to the updated flightpath in his mind, even though he wouldn't be flying it. But being able to envision what was going on might help keep him calm. 

He got himself strapped in and ran his thumb along his silicone wedding band before sliding his hands into his gloves. And then he waited. He watched intently and listened over the comms, and when it was his turn, he said, "Rooster. Spare. Standing by."

The carrier was outrageously far out in the ocean right now. Nearly five hundred miles away from the coastline. And as he watched Nat and Bob launch from the deck, he kept his eyes on them as they faded into the late morning sunlight. It would be about thirty minutes until they were flying over land, and another five minutes more until they reached the military base. 

So he would have to sit here and wait for nearly an hour and a goddamn half while worrying about his friends and having an existential crisis about his career before they all returned and he could get changed out of his flight suit. 

"Unbelievable," he muttered to himself as he listened to the others over the comms. Slayer had been named team leader, and right now he was trying to boss Nat around. She wasn't having it though, and Bradley smiled as he listened in. 

But a few minutes later, he heard the radar tech from the comanche give a heads up that there were some enemy aircraft nearby. And then Slayer said, "Everyone else stay on course, I'll switch to tack northwest and hit the communications tower first."

Bradley lurched fully upright in his cockpit. He must have heard incorrectly. No way Slayer would deviate from the plans like that. But Bradley could hear Nat's panicked voice saying, "You won't have our laser guide! And we won't have your missiles! Stay on course, Slayer!"

"I'm the leader, Phoenix. You stay on course. I'll loop back around. It will be fine."

There was so much commotion all of a sudden, Bradley could only hear a jumble of voices inside his helmet. He did some quick math, visualizing the terrain maps he'd had memorized for nearly two months. Five hundred miles out. Five hundred back. They weren't flying at maximum speed, but they were still burning fuel fast, hauling almost two dozen missiles. There was absolutely no way Slayer would make it back to the carrier if he tried to switch course now and rendezvous with the others at the military base. He'd run out of fuel halfway back to the aircraft carrier. 

"Stay on course!" Admiral Dean demanded loudly. "Everyone stay on course!"

But Slayer was already gone. And now the comanche radar tech was reporting four more enemy fighters in the vicinity of the military base. Bradley pounded his fist on the side of his seat. Nat and Bob were completely fucking screwed. And so were Charmer, Mack and Terror. Unless all six aviators were working in unison, this was going to result in a tragedy. 

"Come on, come on," Bradley chanted under his breath, his fingers already twitching along his control panels. He thought about his friends whose handful of missiles would only get them so far before they were dead without cover. And he thought about you, but then again you were never far from his mind. His perfect wife. The main reason he did anything.

Finally his thoughts settled on the fact that he'd left his wedding band at home with you, and he felt calm knowing that you'd always wear it on your chain. 

"Send the spare." His Super Hornet was being towed to the catapult.

-------------------------------

It was a weird, stormy evening. There were clouds rolling in from the ocean, and although you could see a lot of lightning and hear thunder, it hadn't started raining yet. So you put on Bradley's sweatshirt and clipped Tramp's leash onto his collar, running your fingers along the tags your husband had gotten engraved for him. 

"Yeah, you're spoiled," you told the dog as you pocketed some treats for him. Then the two of you ventured outside and along the blocks that would take you to the beach. The wind was blowing harder down here, whipping the sand and dune grass around. But the beach was completely deserted, and the storm looked intoxicating. 

As you walked along the water's edge, your flip flops and sweatpants got soaked. Tramp kept pausing to look out into the ocean, and you said, "Daddy's out there. Somewhere." You weren't sure exactly when the mission was being flown. It could have already been completed. You had enough clearance at work to be able to find out for sure, but if Bradley caught wind of that kind of behavior, he would have a fit. You knew he didn't want you worrying about him. 

Tramp whimpered and started barking, and then the clouds rolled in faster. A loud crack of thunder had you running back up the beach with Tramp right next to you. By the time you ran up past the dunes, the sky opened up. You turned back to look at the ocean one last time before hard raindrops started pelting your exposed skin. It was almost painful, and it was hard to keep your eyes open as you made your way back to the pretty craftsman. 

You stood on the covered porch, looking down at your sandy, drenched dog and laughing. "Come here," you said before scooping him up and carrying him right into the bathroom, leaving a sandy trail along the way. 

If Bradley were here, he would take Tramp off your hands and clean him up as you soaked in the tub yourself. But for now, you'd do everything. He'd be back soon. You would take the time to fix things soon.

--------------------------

Once Bradley was in the air, the clock was ticking down the minutes until he could see land and locate the others. He'd been given permission to hit mach 1.8. Actually, he'd been given permission to do whatever was necessary. "Spare inbound. Land sighted," he said, easing back on the throttle a bit as he banked along the mountain range and dipped past the river that would lead him to the recently destroyed military base. 

Slayer had managed to destroy the communications tower as part of the solo mission he decided to go on, but at what cost? He got so far off course from the others, and backtracking would have eaten so much fuel. Bradley listened as he was called back to the carrier where he would be safe while everyone else was now in danger. 

Bradley was getting closer now as he listened to what was going on and tried to visualize it.

"Tally, tally! On your nose, Phoenix!"

"Deploying flares!"

"Incoming at twelve o'clock!"

"I can't shake them, Charmer!"

"I'm out of missiles and flares! Switching to guns!"

"We took a hit!"

He would know Nat's voice anywhere, but hearing her say that she and Bob had been hit had Bradley flying way faster than he should have been this close to the river embankment. But one more cut through the mountains, and the aircrafts were in sight. And it was the worst kind of dog fight. 

The air was a mess of flares as Bradley immediately spotted missiles being launched at Charmer. And he knew Charmer said he was out of defensive aids. 

"Tally, tally!" Bradley called out. "Bandit on your nose, Terror!" Then he laid down a cover of flares for Charmer as the other pilot eliminated one enemy with his guns. "Phoenix! Bob! How bad is it?" Bradley asked, deftly launching a missile and watching it collide with the wing of the jet that was headed for Terror. The enemy pilot ejected, but there was no point in pursuit. Not on a rescue mission. 

"We're leaking fuel," Bob shouted, and Bradley could actually hear all of the alarms going off in their Super Hornet through the comms. "Rapidly." Then Phoenix dodged past Charmer and shot down another enemy jet. "And we're out of ammo," Bob added.

"Head back, I'll lay down cover for you," Bradley told them. "Go!" There were still two Bandits, but his friends would never make it back anywhere near the carrier if they delayed leaving. He could smell the jet fuel as it permeated the air around him, and he just knew what a hazard that was. He prayed nothing would cause an explosion at this point.

"Out of ammo now," Charmer reported, and now Bradley was starting to panic. But then he saw the opening they needed. 

"Terror! Follow my lead!" The remaining Bandits saw how vulnerable Nat and Bob were and started to pursue them, so Bradley circled back to get their attention on him.

"I'm almost out of ammo!" Terror responded, getting into position. 

"Then don't miss." Bradley fired his last missile at the first one and then joined Terror and Mack in shooting down the other one. 

"That's splash six!" Charmer announced. 

"Is that everyone?" Terror asked. 

"Affirmative. That's everyone," Mack confirmed. 

"I want everyone back on this carrier, now!" Dean nearly shouted through the comms, and Bradley rolled his eyes. "Phoenix, land first, if you can even get here!"

Then thankfully he eventually heard Nat say, "We're limping in slowly now. It's gonna be close."

What a fucking nightmare this had turned out to be. As Bradley flew cleanup, since he was the only one with bullets and flares left, he kept his head on a swivel. "Comanche? Incoming?"

"Negative. Picture looks clean."

"And an ETA for Phoenix and Bob?" he asked as he followed Charmer and Terror out over the water.

"Seven minutes."

Bradley swore he didn't breathe and barely moved as he flew further away from the coastline. He didn't dare think about anything except the passing clouds overhead and the sound of his own heart beating. He didn't utter another word until he heard Nat say, "Coming in hot! Banking toward the tower. Full engine failure, no fuel to the feedline. Tailhook extended and hoping for the best."

"Come on, Nat." Bradley still couldn't see anything up ahead, but when the tower announced that Phoenix and Bob were safely on deck, he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

When he was able to circle the carrier and see it for himself, Bradley loosened his death grip on the throttle. And when he landed cleanly, that signaled that everyone was back on deck. The crews came to help him unload, and as soon as his boots left the last rung on the ladder, Nat was tossing her helmet aside and reaching for him.

"Thank you," she whispered against his shoulder. 

Years of trust and friendship had him clinging to her. "It should have been me up there with you two the whole time."

"I know. That was so fucked, Rooster."

And then Bob was there as well, looking more flustered than Bradley had seen him all deployment long. But then Bradley pushed past both of them and tossed his own helmet, shouting "What the hell, Slayer!"

But Slayer barely acknowledged him as he walked toward the tower looking like he was headed for the gallows. Bradley stood there, drenched in sweat and reeking of jet fuel, and watched the other aviator as a red faced Admiral Dean appeared on deck and started yelling. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that Slayer fucked everything up or that Bradley saved the day. The only thing that counted now was getting home to you.

-----------------------------

Friday morning seemed to stretch on for an eternity. You didn't have a specific time to expect Bradley to unload from the carrier, so you decided to go to work until you heard from him. When Bickel called you in for a progress meeting on all of the lab projects, you hauled a stack of folders in with you. And that's when you fully realized that over several years of working with him, he had made you his number two. He always wanted your opinion the most.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as you set everything down on his desk and took a seat. He met your eyes, and he was expecting an honest answer, but you knew he wouldn't give you a hard time. 

"Better. Bradley is coming home today," you told him. "Thanks again." But he just waved you off like it was no big deal and opened up the top folder on the stack. 

Later when you went down to eat lunch, you got cornered by Jake. "Come sit with me."

You just smirked as you grabbed a fistful of tiny packets of hot sauce. "Don't you want to sit with Cat?"

"No, I want to sit with you. Rooster comes back today, and I'll never see you again," he replied. "I know you're struggling, but the two of you will be disgusting again soon."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You were nervous. It had been building up all week. Part of you just wanted to get this over with and work things out, and part of you wanted to bask in Bradley's words as he told you how much he missed and loved you. If he told you those things. 

"I miss being disgusting," you told Jake as you followed him to a table. "But I still want to have a baby." You felt tears in your eyes as you sat down, and Jake met your gaze. "I'm anxious that Bradley is going to talk about my cycle and want to know when I'm ovulating. It's bad enough that I know I'm ovulating right now, you know? I don't want him thinking about it, too. And, fuck, I'm sorry Jake."

"Hey, no," he said, reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. "I love that you want to talk to me about stuff. But just dump your hot sauce all over your lunch and take a deep breath. Let Bradley get home and prove to you that he wants to fix things as much as you do. Give him a chance, Angel."

But your nerves carried through lunch. And now you were scared that your husband wouldn't greet you the way he always did. You were afraid that you were just a fragile, broken thing in his eyes, and there would be some sort of undertone of rejection even though the two of you said you were on the same page over facetime. 

As you walked back to your office, your phone vibrated with a text, and you already knew it was him without even looking. Your heart started pounding, knowing what you needed but unsure if you were going to get it. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: I have phone reception! I can see the dock! I should be off this thing around four or five. Think you can skip out of work a little early and meet me? I missed you so much.

No turning back now. A smile actually broke out on your face. There would be no time to run home and change, but it didn't matter. You had missed him, too. 

I'll be there. Of course I'll be there.

When you mentioned to Bickel that you were going to leave two hours early, he told you to have a nice weekend. And when Cat saw you packing up your computer at 3:30, she walked over and gave you a little hug. 

"Don't be nervous."

You tried to act cool. "I'm not."

"I can tell you are. Just enjoy your weekend with your husband. I'll stay late if need be and finish the coding."

"Thanks," you muttered. You and she never explicitly talked about the fact that you were jealous that she had tiny Jeremiah in her life, but you knew she knew. And you were okay with that. 

As you jogged out to the Bronco in the parking garage, you found you were only thinking about one thing: how good it felt every time Bradley wrapped his strong arms around you and held you against his warm body. 

"Shit," you gasped, fumbling the key in the ignition. You needed that. That was it. "Fuck." You could barely start the engine, but when you finally did, you pulled quickly out of the parking space and headed the half mile or so around base toward the military docks. When you drove through the gates and parked again, you could see khaki uniforms pouring down the ramps and onto the dock.

"Oh no." You were out of the Bronco and running, scrambling for your phone. But as you got closer to the ramp, you spotted Bradley. He was so easy to pick out of a crowd. Tall and broad and impossibly handsome with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. His head was on a swivel, probably wondering if you were here yet. 

And then you froze up. Every feeling hit you all at once as he stepped down onto the dock, boots back on California soil for the first time in almost two months. He looked to his left and then to his right, searching for you, and you could tell he was about to reach for his phone as his hand dipped down toward his pocket. But then he saw you. And that was when you realized that he had the same look of apprehension on his face that you must have had on yours. 

It was so noisy, and there were hundreds of people on all sides of you, but you could see him mouth, "Baby Girl," before his lips formed into a smile that had your feet rushing forward. Bradley was actually shoving people out of his way now which had you laughing. And when you realized you weren't so nervous anymore, tears started to fill your eyes. 

"Baby Girl!" he called out, and a second later, you were in those strong, sure arms that you loved so much. 

"Bradley." But the sound of his name was muffled as he kissed you, holding you so close to him that only your toes touched the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You smiled against him as he shook his bag free and let it drop to the ground next to him, but he didn't break the kiss. 

Every voice around you and the warm sunshine melted into a dreamlike quality. You wanted to stay here in his arms where you finally felt comfortable. There was a lot to say, and you'd get to it eventually, but the feel of his big hands and his mustache were so familiar that you felt more confident again. 

When he finally broke the kiss, Bradley pressed his forehead to yours and kept one big hand at the back of your neck, stroking your skin softly as you shuddered in his arms. "I love you," he promised, voice full of desperation like he was begging you to listen. "I just needed to be with you."

You closed your eyes against your tears and whispered, "I love you, Roo." 

Then his rough fingers were moving slowly along the back of your neck, his other hand coming up to work at the clasp of your necklace. You smiled when you realized what he was doing. Bradley removed your necklace but kept his body pressed against yours and he carefully palmed your gold charms. 

"Been dying to put this back on since I took it off." He kissed your cheek and then slid his wedding band along the chain before carefully clasping your necklace in place again. Then he quickly removed the silicone ring and pocketed it before slipping his gold band into place. "It just didn't feel right. It's not the one we got married with."

And then his arms were wrapped around your waist, and you let your cheek come to rest on his chest. You didn't want to be the first one to say it, but you thought one of you should. About how much you wanted to fix things. About making things work. "Bradley."

But you shouldn't have been worried. He kissed the top of your head, his grip on you unrelenting as so many of the other officers and crew members around you were starting to clear out. "I promise you that you're everything I want. And I'll make sure you know it."

So you nodded and melted into his touch. And it was quite a while later before you moved, but you could hear Bradley's stomach growling which made you smile. "I have some Marry Me Rooster in our fridge that just needs to be reheated." 

He peppered your face with kisses until you were laughing. "Let's go home," he whispered. "Wanna see Tramp and snuggle you on my lap while we eat."

After Bradley had you safely buckled in the passenger seat, he started the engine, and you could tell he missed his Bronco too. He held your hand on the short drive home, and you filled him in on a few things. When he parked in the driveway and helped you out, you asked, "How was your deployment? I didn't even get to see Bob and Nat."

He kissed you softly as you unlocked the front door. "I'll tell you later. It's not as important as this. As being with you."

Your heart swelled as Tramp tried to jump up into Bradley's arms. "Missed you, too," Bradley told him, kneeling and scratching him behind his ears while the dog kicked his other hand. "Were you a good boy?"

"Of course he was. The best." You squeaked as Bradley scooped you up for a piggy back ride as he stood, and he carried you to the laundry room with Tramp jumping around behind you. "What are you doing?" you asked, kissing Bradley's ear as you held onto his shoulders.

"Just want to get out of my uniform before we eat." 

When he set you down and turned, you carefully unbuttoned his shirt and started working on his pins. His hands settled on your waist, stroking you through the fabric of your own khaki uniform shirt. And his eyes were soft. And he wasn't in a rush, except maybe to get dinner. And he wasn't asking about your cycle. And he didn't seem interested in doing anything at this moment except working on your pins and lining them up in the tray near the sink along with his. 

"I missed doing this," you whispered, and then his lips found yours again. And it was a few minutes before Bradley let go of you long enough for both of you to finish getting undressed and put your uniforms into the washing machine. 

"Let me put on some sweatpants, and I'll help you reheat dinner," he said, hoisting you up for another piggy back ride that had you laughing. 

"Sounds good, Roo."

He bent to pick up his duffle on the way to the bedroom, and you helped him empty and sort everything onto your bed. When you dipped your hand inside the bag, you pulled out some neatly folded undershirts and a beat up notebook. You flipped open to the first page while Bradley sat on the floor to play with Tramp. 

Baby Girl, when I think about you, I think about the rest of my life spread out in front of me. And it's not exactly like a map, because I don't know where we are going or where we will end up. But I feel safe when I'm with you. Even though so much is unknown.

You carefully closed the notebook and pressed your lips together, unsure if you were supposed to read that. "Roo?" you asked quietly, and Bradley looked up at you as you showed him the notebook. "What is this?"

----------------------------

He's home! Finally! And Slayer is hopefully completely screwed. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[intuitively-her]

Why are people crushing on you?

Pile 1- (The moon, 8 of swords, 3 of cups rx, The empress rx, Queen of swords, 5 of wands rx, 4 of pentacles rx)

People can tell that you have a wall up. You never fully tell others about yourself. You give them just enough. It keeps people on their toes with you. You’re a puzzle that’s impossible to solve.🤭 Especially to people that want to befriend you. They can tell that you’re more of an introvert, but this makes you even more attractive! They like how you’re shy, but also not afraid to speak up for yourself and others. Others like how you’re always 10 steps ahead of them. It makes people wanna look up to you. I feel like you have a more dominating personality at times as well. You’re an ice queen/king.💙 Women especially love when you assert your dominance over them. Others can tell you’re feeling stuck in a situation currently and it has you feeling indecisive. They want to save you from this. You attract a lot of people with a savior complex. People can tell that you have this light energy deep inside. You have a heart of gold, but you’re ice cold on the surface. Even tho you’re stingy with your love and energy to strangers, you give plenty of it to those closest to you. People love how you hold your family/friends to a high standard. You’re actually a very generous sweetheart once people get to know the real you.🥰

Pile 2- (3 of swords, 2 of cups rx, 10 of swords rx, 8 of cups, King of pentacles rx, Page of wands, Strength, 10 of cups)

People really admire how you bounce back after a breakup. You had to walk away from a lot of bs in the past. For some, even your family. You’ve been through many betrayals in your life. You never let it break you tho. You’re like a lion/lioness.⭐️ People love how independent you are and how well you take care of yourself at your age. You’ve built a new home of happiness for yourself.🙃 For those of you that left your family, there’s someone here that’s proud of you for leaving that toxic situation behind. The things you’ve been through have fueled your lust for life. You’ve grown into such a fearless person. People love your curiosity. You’re always the one asking questions and finding the truth. People also really love how you’re not money driven. This pile gives me the vibe of someone that has a lot of money but you’re not materialistic. You could also be rich but you choose to dress down and avoid being too flashy.

Pile 3- (Queen of wands rx, Queen of cups, The star, The moon, 7 of wands, 2 of wands, 2 of swords rx, 3 of pentacles rx)

Your energy is so vivacious and intense! It’s all eyes on you anywhere you go.🤷🏽‍♀️ I’m getting strong Leo energy from this pile. You’re someone that’s well-known in your school/community, even if you don’t think so. People love how you take charge of your life. Your independence is greatly appreciated. Your teachers/professors love this especially. They can tell that you’re not one of those students that needs to be babied. People also love your balanced thinking. You never rush your plans and you have a clear vision on what you want/need. You’re fearless! You live life like you’re playing the lottery. Unafraid to gamble with yourself. 🎰 You might prefer to work alone mostly or you take the lead in group work. This is heavily admired by others. It makes them think, “wow pile 3 could teach me a thing or two.” Many people look up to you because of your amazing work ethic. People think you’re gonna blow up one day and become an overnight celebrity.🙈 Many people have been crushing on you because you’re a sweetheart!💖 For my men reading this, women especially love your aggressive nature. People love your “macho man” attitude.🤣 You hold so much compassion and care for others. Even a simple smile to a stranger can transform their whole day. Your energy is very warm and comforting. It makes people wanna open up and get close to you. You’re the perfect mix of sugar and spice.❤️‍🔥

Pile 4- (5 of pentacles, 10 of wands, Ace of pentacles rx, The emperor rx, Justice, The chariot, Judgement, 2 of cups, The Mother Star)

You’ve been through a lot of adversity in your life. It seems like you’ve had a string of bad luck recently. You’ve lost a lot financially. For some of you, you lost your job or someone stole money from you. You could’ve felt tied to your responsibilities or you do now. People love when you’re dependent on them or you need their help. It can be as simple as someone helping you carry a box. You have this “helpless and naive” vibe to you. Even if you’re not, that’s just how people perceive you. People admire you because you don’t follow the rule book of life. You love to follow your own path and figure shit out along the way. You make people realize that they don’t need to have their whole life figured out right now. You could be in high school or college currently. You could have an indie or bohemian clothing style. People really love the jewelry and accessories you add to your outfits. Especially if it’s related to your culture. People absolutely love your hair! Especially the color of it. 3 of the cards I pulled show a girl with waist-length red hair. People think your girlfriend material. They love what a great friend you are. You may be the “mom” friend of your group.

#tarot #tarot reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick an image #paid readings

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

--

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path.  How many bars had you gone to again?  Four?  Five, maybe?  Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had.  It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were.  Was it mango-flavored?  What street were you even on now?  You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement.  She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight!  My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed.  “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish.  The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk!  We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku.  “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought.  You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added.  Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations.  You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one.  Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance.  “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.  

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system.  It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink.  Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting.  The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps.  You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric.  Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled.  Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review.  He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum.  “Enjoy the night, ladies.”  His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous.  The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding.  Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space.  It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar.  Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken.  Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices.  A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers.  You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.  

“At least we can stand here!  It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.  

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention.  Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose.  You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end.  His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume.  “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register.  Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.  

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.  

The man behind the counter cackled.  “That’s a pineapple daiquiri!  It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction.  “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work.  You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks.  It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating.  Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing.  His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work.   His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo!  Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled.  “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response.  “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter.  A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat.  “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami.  “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing.  I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami!  Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now.  It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was.  Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass.  He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass.  As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours.  Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering.  He held up the drink.  It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time.  An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything?  Did you say anything?”  The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.  

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.  You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music.  You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman).  The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be.  You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly.  With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume.  The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete.  You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock.  Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks.  A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant.  Who was talking to you?  Did you get followed to the bathroom?  Were you being watched?  Were you in danger?  Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami?  Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one.  “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety.  The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you.  Had he just complimented your ass?  “And, uhm, thank you!  For my ass.  I mean, for saying I look good.  Or, phenomenal, I think?”  You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk.  I’ll wait for you out here.”  The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same.  The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business.  You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone.  He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans.  The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain.  Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly.  He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed.  Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before.  Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first.  Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen.  You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me?  Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded.  “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all.  But how could I pass up such an alluring face?”  He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom.  His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated.  “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes.  “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.”  His golden eyes met yours once more.  “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now.  You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments.  A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull.  You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good!  You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself.  The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours.  You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er.  He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours.  The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet.  He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside.  The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club.  The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head.  His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor.  Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier.  Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders.  Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was.  A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval.  You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered.  “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information.  You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath.  “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband.  “Anything for you, princess.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #catch up fic

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello I have no idea if your doing requests or if you do like one shots, but I do have something only if you’re interested and have time! It can be yandere or not! It’s a Riddle x reader (can be gen n or fem) who tries to balance being liked and being a rule follower only to fail miserably and basically becomes that one kid in school that no one likes.

The reader is a mega teacher’s pet, not only to the teachers by actively participating with extreme excitement, but also to Housewardens especially Riddle. Before she even got in rolled in NRC she actively memorized most of not almost all 810 rules (ofc not all of them that’d be impossible). She especially likes to make sure everyone else knows knows that she knows almost all of them and follows them like she does. She’d go out of her way to find someone breaking the rules and become a tattletale “You! You violated rule 53! If you don’t stop that now. I! Will be forced!… To Tell The Housewarden!”. “Oh Housewarden! Didn’t you say it yourself that anyone who violates rule 562 during a unbirthday will be an immediate off with their head?” . “Why am I going against rule 88? Because I am a honorary and loyal member of Heartslabyul who as worked hard to gain such a well deserved reputation… and riddle said that I could. So yeah…👉👈”

Riddle says that he doesn’t like the reader and doesn’t give her special treatment because of how good she is, but the only reason why everyone knows he has a crush is because he is the only person in the ENTIRE SCHOOL to find her annoying antics as “cute and endearing”

Married to The Rules | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Rules provide an understandable and legible guide in life–hence your devotion to any new ones that are presented to you. Too bad not everyone admires rules like you do and they often misconstrue your actions and behavior to be malicious. Your real friends will be willing to see past that and violently compete for your heart:

Riddle Rosehearts

“It seems you too are passionate about rules…I admire that.”

Both of you sharing this admiration of rules and order helps you bond in other ways

And in turn fuels the possessive fire that Riddle is learning to manage terribly

While he accepts and shares his findings about going against the rules he begins dealing with a double standard

Having the thoughts of actually beheading anyone who stops you from arriving precisely ten minutes before class begins

Or if they come to you to brush up on some rules

Of course he’ll waive you of things if your leaning in that direction

Or he’ll secretly add new rules that are oddly specific to your situation

“This goes against rule 1,004!”

“1,004? But the book stops at 816!”

“You don’t have the updated version. Here I’ll fill you in. Come, we’ll discuss this over tarts and teas.”

#yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere riddle x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader

[creedslove]

POOL PARTY ☀️

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Even though you're sick, you still went to Pedro's pool party - which you discovered was made only for you, you don't feel well, but you can't disappoint him by not taking a swim with him

Warnings: fluff with no plot, just fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst and sexual tension, but again, fluff

A/N: this is silly and lame and definitely not the kind of story I usually love writing but I am sick and I need comfort so someone bring me pedro pascal over here so I can hug the hell outta him and tell him how precious he really is

2.4k words

You spent the whole morning thinking of a way you could say no to Pedro.

From the moment you woke up and felt your throat itchy at first, only to feel it burning and finally going completely sore in the symptoms of inflammation you were already so used to, to the sneezes that annoyed you every couple of minutes and the overall feeling you had just been hit by a truck made it pretty clear it was not the ideal day for a pool party.

You cursed yourself, the weather, your life, everything. Out of all the days in your life, why did you have to get sick exactly the day Pedro had invited you - and begged you to show up to a pool party?

You and Pedro were… complicated.

You were friends, like, real good friends at first. And then you became a couple, but you two decided being a couple wouldn't work. You hated the exposure he had, it wasn't his fault of course, but it baffled you how he handled going out for a coffee, for lunch, or simply walking down the street and being photographed and filmed all the time. You just didn't like the feeling you would have to watch your back every time so you could have a tiny bit of privacy. No holding hands, no kissing, just walking around like two acquaintances, either that or having your photo all over gossip websites, comments bombarding it all the time calling you and Pedro horrible things, fans claiming to being jealous and hating you for dating him, as he was supposed to be theirs and no one else's. It was too much.

On Pedro's part, it was hard to balance a relationship with his working schedule, he worked hard and that meant he was most of the time unavailable, unless you traveled with him to where he was shooting, which was impossible because you had your own life, your own job and as much as you would've become a trophy wife for him and only Pedro, you guys never got to this point.

The affection, the attraction and the spark was still there, so even after you broke up, you decided to be friends again.

But maybe, just maybe, you hugged too much, cuddled too much and kissed too much as friends.

And that was why most of his co-stars hated you.

Pedro always tried to be as discreet as possible, he never admitted bluntly though you never directly asked, you didn't have to, you knew him enough for that. He was a flirty little shit, he was handsome and sexy and they were always gorgeous. It was obvious he very often had affairs with them. And if he was in a near enough location and asked you to visit him, or if you bumped into each other at a restaurant or even if you went to a dinner party at his home and they happened to be there, they immediately hated you.

Not because of you though, you always acted nicely to anyone and it would be no exception to them, but you wouldn't kiss their ass just because they were famous either.

Of course you would keep your distance from Pedro if they were around. You wouldn't hug him as much or hold his hand but there was something there and neither of you could control it.

It was always exchanged glances, or inside jokes, it was obvious to everybody but the two of you, you were just two stubborn idiots in love.

You hadn't seen each other in over a month, he was all over the country working, shooting, attending events and you were on you well-deserved vacation, so when he finally went back home, he'd texted you about the pool party he was hosting.

Pedro knew you loved pool parties and you had spent countless hours swimming in his, so he was just so excited to have you over, he forgot to mention a small detail: you were his only guest.

You were also so eager to see him, you missed that man dearly and you thought he would be in Cannes enjoying the high life but when he told you he was back home you couldn't control your excitement. If it were up to you, you would've gone straight to his house or welcomed him at yours, it didn't matter, just to see each other. But the weekly appointments you had got the best of you and you forced yourself to wait for the weekend.

And then you woke up with a cold and you wanted to cry in frustration and sadness.

You could just not show up, but that was really not an option, and you could also tell him you were too sick to go, the only thing you'd have to face would be his puppy brown eyes looking at you as if you'd shattered his heart, and you didn't want that.

So you grabbed all the cold meds you had at home, took them in one dose, packed yourself a bag with your clothes and drove to his house. You figured Pedro would be distracted enough with his guests and he wouldn't mind if you just chilled on his couch, maybe watched something on TV and had some snacks before heading home, plus he would understand if you didn't dip yourself in the pool. Besides, if by any chance any co-star of his were there, he would probably pay much more attention to them in their tiny bikini than you anyways.

So when you arrived there and realized you were the only one, you thought you were too early or maybe you'd misread the invitation and screwed up the dates?

But there he was, Pedro in just his shorts and shirt, with a wide smile welcoming you to his place.

Your heart skipped a beat, he was so handsome and though he knew the effect he had on women - and men, and everybody really, you felt your heartache to know he didn't acknowledge how painfully handsome he was. He didn't see himself the way you did, and it was a shame because you saw him like the best thing that happened to you.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, grabbing your things and exiting the car.

He waited for you with his arms open, because Pedro didn't do formal greetings, he did hugs, and you loved it.

You flew to his arms and squealed as he wrapped his strong ones around your body, lifting you up softly and twirling you.

You giggled as he put you down and watched you. He really watched you. Taking his time observing you, as if you hadn't seen each other in years, when in reality it had been what? A month? Six weeks?

Still, you were so happy to be next to him you almost forgot about your cold. Almost, but eventually, you felt another sting on your throat and groaned frustrated, which made Pedro frown.

"I almost didn't make it, Pedro… I woke up like that" you said and pouted. He knew how much you hated getting sick. Not that anyone liked it, but you hated it, you often got so angry and cranky you couldn't even describe. You even avoided people when you were sick, as you didn't want to take down on them, but you could that to Pedro, you never avoided him and you were never rude to him.

He cupped his cheek and gave you such sweet lovely eyes.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, querida… you look a little pale, do you wanna lie down?" You chuckled how he offered you to lie down but didn't ask if you wanted to leave, because you knew there was no way he would let you leave.

You shook your head and entwined your fingers "it's alright, but I don't think I'll swim today" you smiled at him and looked around, looking for other cars, but there was only yours and Pedro's there. "Where's everybody?"

Pedro scratched the back of his neck and chuckled "well, you're the only one I invited…"

"Pedro, you do know the meaning of the word party, right? If it's just me, then why did you say there was a party?"

"Well, it is a party for my favorite girl…" he said adorably and you just couldn't resist him.

"Oh cariño" the nickname always brought a blush to his cheeks "if I weren't sick I would be kissing the shit outta you!" You laughed and walked inside with him.

Pedro's arm was tight wrapped around your waist as you eyed the pool and turned to him "you decorated the pool!!! You didn't have to do that!"

"Yes I did because it was supposed to be a pool party! I just didn't know you would be too sick to get inside" Pedro unconsciously stared at you with his puppy eyes and it made you feel guilty.

It was a very hot day, you were already sick, what could go wrong? It wouldn't get worse than that, would it?

So you sighed and smiled at him "fine, I guess I can't get sicker than this, so I'll get changed, will you wait for me to get inside?"

He nodded excitedly and grabbed himself a beer.

You ran to the bathroom, already familiar with his place and opened your bag, seeing the two options you brought: a bikini or a swimsuit. You went for the bikini, it usually made you shy to wear it among many people, but there was only you and Pedro there and well, since you'd seen each other naked many times, it wouldn't be a big deal.

You quickly changed and walked outside with your sunblock as Pedro had certainly forgotten his.

He was sat by the edge of the pool, feet dipped into water and wearing only his trunks.

You stood still and watched his body, he was looking so fine. He always did, but ever since he started the preparation for his new movie he got even more attractive.

You reminded yourself you were there to enjoy your friend's company and not lust after him.

You joined him and smiled "hey there handsome" you winked and coughed a little, feeling shy to be sick like that and got some sunblock on your hand, spreading it over his shoulder "you need to take care of your skin, handsome" you said sweetly and leaned in, which Pedro corresponded but frowned as you pecked his forehead instead.

He groaned softly and took some sunblock into his own hands and did the same on your back, mirroring your moves as you felt his big hands over your skin. And his hands were pretty big, almost as big as his…

You stopped yourself there and saw he was staring "maybe you should get this top off, you know, so you can get sunbathed properly" he suggested and you rolled your eyes.

Suddenly Pedro hugged you as tight as he could and threw himself into the water, dragging you with him as his weight caused you to fall.

He was so boyish you couldn't help yourself but laugh, seeing him swim towards you and wrap his arms again around your figure, pulling you closer.

Pedro was flirting with you as much as you flirted with him and though you shouldn't keep on doing that, you couldn't resist him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your back to the edge of the pool so he could sustain your weight with no trouble. He laughed softly "I missed you a lot, princesa" he whispered and kissed your neck, making you groan, taking your hands to his cute wet hair and giggling.

"Fuck Pedro, don't tease me" you asked and saw him looking at you, he was admiring you and leaned towards you, but you quickly moved your head away, avoiding his lips and received disappointed eyes.

Your heart clenched, you didn't like seeing him like that, you would never refuse him, but you didn't want to kiss him, you were sick and he would get sick.

Pedro, on the other hand, felt disappointed. You'd been distant from him, you wouldn't kiss him and in his mind you had probably met someone better than him, even if your legs were wrapped around his body, sometimes it was so hard for him to believe you liked him.

His gripped around your body loosen and he sighed, letting go of you and looking down "sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable" he said in a low tone but your hands quickly held his head in place.

"No honey, it's just that I am sick, if you kiss me you'll get sick too, and it's gonna be a problem for you when you go to work again" you tried to reason him and saw how his eyes softened.

His hand cupped your cheek and he swam closer again, one arm around your waist and ready to kiss you…

When you started coughing and couldn't stop.

You quickly turned away, your body shook as you were positive you had a fever now. You thought you couldn't get worse than you already were, but guess what, you were wrong.

"Shit, baby girl, come here" Pedro said, as he had managed to get off the pool and held a towel, helping you climb up the steps and wrapped it around your body.

"You take a warm shower and you'll lie in bed, got it princesa?" You nodded, shivering and walked back to his room.

You didn't take long in the shower, though the warm water felt really good as it poured down your body.

You managed to put your clothes back on after drying yourself and smiled as Pedro waited for you.

He made sure to get you comfortable in your bed and joined you. His arms were wrapped around your body and no matter if you told him many times he should stay away so you'd get him sick, he still refused it.

He held you close and rubbed your back up and down, making sure you were covered and warm.

"I know you don't wanna kiss me, but I was wondering if we could maybe go on a date, like a proper one, what do you say?" He asked with a small blush spread across his cheeks and you couldn't believe how sweet Pedro was, and for a second, you wanted to be selfish and kiss him as deep as you could, even if it meant he'd get sick later.

So you did it.

If he got sick, you'd take care of him, like he was taking care of you.

_____

A/N: idk I am just sick and I want Pedro to take care of me 😭

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #javier peña #javier pena #joel miller