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shina913 · 9 months ago

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Code Blue | KMG

Code Blue

Pairing: PFWeek!Mingyu x Stylist!Fem Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Idol au; hints of FWB; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: porn with a hint of plot; cussing; fingering; clit play; breast play; oral (F-rcvng); penetrative, unprotected sex; creampie; soft aftercare

Word count: 3.8K words

Summary: Mingyu doesn't want any other stylist--he only wants you.

A/N: The story was prompted by this video clip and title is from The-Dream's song of the same title. I only meant for this to be something quick but the clown car stopped by my house--it was headed to Deluluville so I just got on, ofc. Nothing but horny word vomit featuring Dior/PFW Mingyu. Tiny bit of angst brought on by the song, and also because I'm me, and why the hell not? Enjoy!

It’s fashion week and by some wild coincidence, many of your A-list celebrities are in town and they all have scheduled appearances at the big-ticket shows. Unfortunately, due to the location of a few shows and heavy traffic, you can't personally manage everyone's looks. So, you rely on your trusted assistants to cater to everyone's preferences, under your guidance, of course.

One of the clients you couldn't personally attend to was Mingyu. He called you, disappointed, when he saw your assistant, Monica, standing at his hotel room door with a clothing rack to present him with outfit options for tomorrow's show.

“Why did you send your minion here? I thought you were coming?” You hear the pout in his lowered voice.

“I'm at a fitting with another client at their hotel, and it's running late,” you whisper into the phone, then motion to an intern to approve your client's accessories. “Also, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call her that. She's my second-in-command, and I trust her judgment. I can't be everywhere at once, so some compromises had to be made.”

Mingyu’s debut appearance at a major fashion show was a big deal for him and his career. Since his appearance was announced, you prepared accordingly, discussing options based on the fashion house's lookbook. Having worked closely with Mingyu for over a year, you're well-versed in his style preferences. Before he left for Paris, you had shortlisted two outfit options, which is why you felt confident leaving Monica in charge.

“So, I’m the one compromised? I heard you’re dressing a couple of people for Chanel and another one for Saint Laurent. You can’t do that for me?” He huffs out.

You hiss through gritted teeth and excuse yourself to take the rest of your call in the bathroom. “There’s no need to be childish! Those two shows are right next to each other, while yours is across town. I can’t reach you in that short timeframe. Have you seen the traffic?”

He eventually concedes, softening his tone. “I’m sorry. I was just…hoping to see you since we're both in town. I thought that maybe we could grab dinner tonight at that restaurant we went to last time?”

You sigh, wishing it could be that simple. Instead of responding to his invitation, you run through tomorrow’s schedule. “I have another fitting tomorrow afternoon and a meeting after that. Olivier is also hosting a party tomorrow night after the Balmain show, so I don’t know—”

“I can meet you after your last event, just tell me where.”

“You can’t just show up randomly. There’s going to be other designers and stylists. You might feel out of place since you won’t know anybody,” you reason.

“You can always introduce me,” he suggests.

“As what?”

He’s silent for a few beats then says, “Your client?”

You chuckle, feeling a hint of embarrassment due to your presumptions. You've never clarified the nature of your relationship. Since you’re part of his team’s regular stylists, you have to stay professional, especially around staff and his other teammates. Occasionally, when he can steal a quiet moment, he whispers what he'd like to do when he gets you alone.

“Gyu—”

“Please? I miss you,” he pleads quietly.

Apart from the occasional sexy video calls, you haven't seen each other in over a month due to your busy work schedules. As much as you try to convince yourself that you don’t feel the same, hearing the need in his voice makes your chest twinge.

You open your mouth to answer but a knock on the bathroom door startles you. It’s the intern, telling you that your client needs your opinion on shoes.

You sigh, cursing under your breath. “I have to go. Just trust Monica, okay?”

You didn't wait for him to respond before you hung up. You didn't want to hear the disappointment in his voice. You wished you could leave all the work to your staff and head off to dinner with Mingyu, then go to bed with him. But there were too many eyes on Paris this week, especially on him.

This wasn’t like one of your clandestine meetings. He was more recognizable now, which meant photos could be snapped of you and him anywhere. When that happens, it’ll be all over.

After that call, you didn't hear from him for the rest of the night.

********

“So, how did you pick your outfit today?”

The question, posed by one of many journalists in the bustling press line of the fashion show’s venue, brings a warm smile to Mingyu's face.

“This outfit?” He took a moment before responding, his eyes had a hint of nostalgia as he revisited the process that eventually led up to the ensemble he was dressed in.

“Ah, well. My team put it together!” His response elicits laughter from both the photographers and the journalist.

“No, but seriously, I like clean, timeless looks with hints of detail and different textures to keep it interesting. My stylist knows me very well, and she has a great eye.” He finishes with that million-dollar smile of his, leaving the journalist flustered.

“Well,” the journalist says, “Sounds like someone out there deserves a nice bonus.”

“Oh, I agree!” He looks straight into the camera and gives a subtle wink at it right before the clip ends.

You chuckle and shake your head at your phone, swiping away to close out of full-screen mode.

Earlier this morning, he texted you a photo of his final look. He had chosen the blue suit and bejeweled button-down shirt, the ensemble you put together, and hoped he would go for. His choice delighted you, despite how sour your phone call ended last night.

You sent a text to Monica, thanking her for the link to Mingyu's interview clip and complimenting her on her first solo styling job.

She responded, saying that you did 90% of the work. She merely pulled together what made sense, and you approved.

You laugh. She's right, but she would at least get credit in the magazines and fashion blogs where Mingyu's photos would appear.

********

It was well past midnight when you got out of the limo with a couple of colleagues and walked into the hotel lobby, coming back from an after-party when your phone rang. You fish it out of your pocket and drunkenly squint your eyes at the caller ID.

It was Mingyu. You slide across your screen to answer it.

“Hey. Where are you?” His voice was gruff, like he had just woken up or maybe had a few drinks.

“I just got in from Olivier’s party.”

“Mm, how was that?”

“Good. We had fun. Nice way to cap off fashion week.”

He hums in response. “Are you back in your room?”

“Not yet but I’m heading up there soon. What’s up?” You step into the elevator and punch your floor number.

He sighs softly on the other line. “Nothing. Just wanted to make sure that you were back safe.”

“Uh-huh,” you say skeptically.

The elevator dings and stops at your floor. You step out and follow the hallway toward your room. “Why don't you tell me what's really going on?”

As you look ahead, you slow down upon seeing someone leaning against your doorway. How did he even… you stop that thought right away, not wanting to know all the details.

“I was hoping to say goodnight to you,” he says into the phone as you stop in front of him.

You glance at your watch and tell him, “But it’s already 2 in the morning.”

“So, good morning then?” he smirked. Then, his eyes rake you from head to toe. “You look nice.”

Judging by what you recall from your reflection in the elevator's mirror, you knew you were anything but. “Thanks. You look…clean.”

He was showered, barefaced, and dressed in sweats, his hair sticking out in every direction. Now this was the version of Mingyu you were used to seeing in private.

“Can I put you to bed?”

You bit your lip as he moved in closer. The thought was tempting, but you were aware that other staff members were staying on the same floor. But it was also late, and they were likely asleep. Perhaps a little nightcap wouldn't be too bad.

Before you can answer, you freeze when the door across the hall opens. Monica pops her head out, her sleep mask perched atop her head. “Oh, hey guys! I thought I heard voices. What are you doing here?” She directs her question at Mingyu.

“We were just talking,” he tells her with an innocent smile, relieved she didn't see him enter your room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?” She looks worried, assuming that Mingyu is there to tell you that she did an awful job, despite reassuring her that she did great filling in for you.

“All good! He and I just ran into each other in the lobby and started discussing an upcoming shoot,” you say apologetically.

“We'll try to keep it down,” Mingyu adds.

“No worries. I have a white noise machine,” Monica replies with a knowing smile. “You can be as loud as you want.”

Your mouth falls open as she casually turns back into her room and closes the door.

Mingyu suppresses a laugh. “You think she knows?”

You smack him on the chest and roll your eyes, making him giggle some more.

“You're lucky I pay her well,” you say, reaching into your purse for your key card. You swipe it on the door sensor and step inside while he's still laughing. “Are you coming in or not?”

He laughs even harder, but he follows you right in.

********

“Did you like Monica’s picks?” you call out from the bathroom, as you finish up your skincare routine.

“You mean what you picked?” he retorts.

“I wasn't even there! That was all her.”

“He snorts at your comment. “You think she pulled those pieces all on her own without your sign-off?” He snacks on a few pomme frites that he ordered from room service during your quick shower.

“I've been training her for a couple of years. She deserves some credit,” you reply as you reenter the room in an oversized shirt, walking towards him on the couch, and taking some fries.

“I mean, she's good, but she doesn't know me that well.” He pauses to watch you settle next to him. “You do, though.”

“Then let her get to know you! Help her out a little.” You suggest, barely looking up from your phone.

“You mean the way I got to know you? Is that what you want?”

You tense up and purse your lips. However, considering you have no claim on Mingyu, you have no right to feel upset.

“I'm just saying—I can't always be where you need me to be and…you’re free to do what you want.” You clear your throat, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He lets out a sigh, pulling your phone down to get your attention. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want anybody else to get to know me.”

You could hear the yearning in his voice, something you didn’t quite expect.

After years in the industry, you told yourself you’d never get involved with a client. And then Mingyu came along. People were naturally drawn to him, and even you weren’t immune to his charms. He was always sweet, and you assumed he treated everyone who worked for him the same way. It wasn’t until after an overseas photoshoot followed by celebratory drinks with him and his staff, that you let your guard down.

What you initially saw as a one-time slip-up gradually became a series of encounters, each growing more intimate than the last. But you couldn’t stay in that mindset. You couldn’t get your hopes up, especially with someone as famous as he was. Not only was it bad for business but it was bad for you.

“I’m not playing games.”

“Neither am I.” He says evenly. “The fact is, I want you and I’m tired of sharing you with other people.”

You scoff at his audacious remark. “Look, it’s my job—”

He shakes his head and interjects. “You know what I mean. I want to make things official…with you. Just you.”

You sigh. “You know that we can’t.” Even though everything in you wants to scream yes.

“You can’t or won’t?”

“I know that you can't,” you counter. He's just too... public. Not only are you concerned about your reputation, but you're mostly worried about the backlash if his fans ever find out about you and him. The stakes are higher for him.

“That’s not true. It’s not like I’m a prisoner.”

You chuckle humorlessly, as if he doesn’t see how this won’t end well for either of you. “I know how this business works, okay?”

“You think I don’t know that either? I just want us to try. I feel that there’s something more between us. And I know you feel it, too.” He reaches out and rests his hand on your bare knee.

Your skin tingles with the warmth of his touch. It’s been too long since you last felt it, and you’re ashamed to admit how much you missed it. Craved it, even.

You stare at his hand, now snaking past the hem of your shirt. “There are a million reasons why we shouldn’t do this.”

“Then let’s do it for the reasons that we should,” he retorts, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. You quickly realize that was a big mistake.

His eyes quietly pleaded, causing the knot in your stomach to tighten. Things weren't going to be easy. A million questions swirled in your head, but he quieted all except one as his face drew closer.

“How would we even do this?” You ask softly.

“Let me worry about that. I just need you to tell me that you want the same thing.”

Your hand lifts to his neck, fingers grazing his jawline, then up his cheek. He sighs softly, melting under your touch.

After a few beats, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You know, part of me feels like I’m letting you off easy. Maybe I should let you work for it a little?”

A smile ghosted his lips. He lowered his head, his voice deep and sexy. “I’ll work for it now.”

Even though you see the kiss coming, it still knocks you out. Mingyu’s lips meet yours, his tongue stroking greedily into your mouth. “C’mere,” he says roughly before urging you onto his lap.

Your phone rings, but you silence it quickly before chucking it, not caring where it lands. You tangle your fingers in Mingyu's hair, holding his head while you kiss him ardently. God, you love kissing him. The feel of his lips and the rough sounds of pleasure he makes are music to your ears. He’s ravenous for you, just as you are for him. He catches one of your wrists and pulls your hand over his chest, pressing it flat so you can feel his heart pounding.

“This all you,” he breathes against your mouth.

And with that, your walls come down. You’re done for.

You tear at each other’s clothing, yanking off each other’s shirts. You’re desperate to feel him, your lips and teeth catching every inch of his golden skin. At this point, you don’t care if other staff hear you throughout this floor.

He urges you backward until you feel the armrest of the couch behind you. Kissing you deeply, he cups one of your breasts in his hand, kneading it before pushing the bra cup down to touch your bare skin.

You fumble with the drawstring of his pants, whilst palming him through the material, feeling how hard he already is. You growl in frustration when he pulls your hands away.

He shakes his head and tuts. “You first.” Clever fingers circle your nipple and roll it, sending shocks of delight straight to your core.

The next moment, that mouth you love to kiss is on your breast, surrounding your tender nipple. His tongue flicks at the tip, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks. His other hand is between your legs, rubbing your aching cleft through your panties, teasing you even more by grinding his length against your thigh.

His scent surrounds you, just as his hands and mouth are all over you. You want some control, but he’s too strong, too quick, sliding lower before you can catch him.

He keeps his gaze on you as he tugs your panties down your legs. Your center clenches at how much that turns you on.

You sit up slightly to unclasp your bra, tossing it while Mingyu scoots back, lifting his hips to shove his sweats and boxer briefs out of the way.

In an instant, he’s on you again–too impatient to strip all the way naked. He pins your hips down, urging your thighs further apart while he lines himself up to your center, and slowly pushes in. Lowering his head, he groans right in your ear, feeling how tight you are for him.

You pant as he burrows deeper. Your nails dig into his back and your legs tighten around his waist. You’re wetter by the moment, rendered helpless by the way his hips move, his body mindlessly seeking a deeper connection to yours.

You gasp when he slides in deeper, your hips fighting his hold, needing to arch upward.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, pulling back an inch and thrusting again.

He pulls out abruptly, leaving you empty and aching, but not for long. His mouth is there between your legs, licking, sucking on your clit, and fluttering over the bundle of nerves. Your hands fist at the cushions, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You went from zero to sixty so fast that your orgasm takes you by surprise.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out.

Shivers of pleasure course through you as you suck in air. He keeps your legs spread wide with his shoulders, holding you in place, as he slips two fingers inside. He moves them in and out slowly, circling your clit in between. He teases you a few more times, edging you, making you desperate for his cock.

The instant he shifts to slide over you again, you seize the moment to push him to the other end of the couch. He doesn’t put up a fight as you move to straddle his hips. He simply leans back, his eyes wide, cheeks flushed from arousal, waiting for your next move.

You reach for his cock under you, fisting it slowly. He fights to keep his eyes open but the pleasure you give him feels too good. His chest heaves and he lets out a drawn-out groan.

Fuck, he was hot. And the way his hands grip your hips tightly as you position him to your center drives you insane with the need to ride him hard.

You slide the tip between your folds, coating him with your slick before your hips sink in one swift move. Your mouths fall open when your ass hits the tops of his thighs, both of you relishing in the sensation. You rest your hands on his shoulders for leverage and roll your hips toward him slowly. His neck arches, letting out a groan of pleasure between clenched teeth.

His hands reach up to cup your breasts, palming them, and pinching your nipples, making you hiss at the perfect combination of pain and pleasure. “Ah…Mingyu...fuck, yes…”

Once you find your rhythm, he thrusts upward, meeting your hips. You push your fingers into his hair, cupping the back of his head to hold him close.

He nuzzles against your temple. “You want this?”

Your nodding wasn’t enough for him.

“Say it.”

So you say it loud and clear for him. “Yes, I want this. I want you.”

With a shift of his hips, the tip of his cock notches into your opening. Pressure builds as he fucks into you. Slow, easy thrusts that work him into you with every lunge. Your entire body tenses, as he sinks deep into your core. You feel yourself inch closer and closer to your climax.

Your grip on him tightens, and you grind your hips, matching his every move to direct him into where it feels good.

“Kiss me,” you gasp.

Soon after his mouth makes contact with yours, your body surrenders to him. Tears sting your eyes when the tension in you breaks, and you come harder than you did the first time.

The pulsing only deepens as Mingyu continues to pound into you, chasing his own climax. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he finally reaches it, tethering his orgasm to yours.

It's one of the most intense sensations you've ever felt. Despite your body's natural instinct to pull away, your mind resists. The steady thrum of your heartbeat soothes you, and you stay there, quietly relishing the comfort in each other's arms.

********

Reluctantly, you take a second shower, with him doing most of the work cleaning you up. Afterwards, you crawl into bed. You watch him, carefully tucking you in, mildly annoyed that he can move and think clearly while you're still stuck in a post-orgasmic haze.

When he finally flops into bed beside you, you turn to face him. “How are you still moving around?”

He props his head in his hand and grins, his fingers running lightly down your cleavage. “Did you forget the ten minutes it took me to get up?”

“I’m making sure you’re down for the count next time,” you pout playfully.

“Hmm...” Leaning over you, he presses his lips to yours. “I’m just happy there’s a next time.”

You nod, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Lots of next times.”

Reaching up, you brush his hair back from his forehead. His post-sex look is even more breathtaking. His face is softer, his eyes are brighter, and that smile… you sigh deeply. He looks so happy that it twists your heart to think that you had a hand in that without even really trying. Yet, this also worries you, knowing it would be devastating if that smile ever faded.

“I’m scared, you know,” you confess.

He lifts your hand and presses his lips to it. A few moments of silence pass before he replies, “Yeah. Me too.” You don’t even want to think about how the staff will react when they see him walk out of your room in a few hours.

His facial expression tenses, and you immediately regret bringing it up. You pull him closer, holding him tightly as a silent apology.

“Can we agree not to bring anything but us into bed?” he murmurs, running his nose along your cheek before pulling away slightly to look at you. “I just want us to have some place where nothing else matters but you and me.”

“Okay.” You nod, your hands stroking up and down his back. Burying your face in his chest, you breathe in, letting the familiar scent of his skin ground you in the moment.

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Thank you so much for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

#mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfiction #kim mingyu #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fanfic

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two-red-butterflies · 1 year ago

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the bravest soldier | m33

Description: Max Verstappen and his girlfriend go inside a taxi (not knowing that it's a prank set up for him) in which, their relationship is made public.

Pairing: max verstappen/model!leclerc!reader

yournameleclerc1 he loves himself ladies and gentlemen 💙

tagged: max verstappen

239 comments 123,210 likes

user19: UMM??? Y/N??? baramram3: i smell y/n x max 😳 maxverstappen1: 😆

"It's more of a red and orange day," he explained, moving his arms around and placing the cap on his head. He fancied himself a fashion connoisseur at home, even helping you pick out outfits for work - but when he was out with friends and the media? The same cap was on his head - the same polo, and it was frustrating.

"I actually feel proud 'cuz I forced you to wear white," you chuckled as he opened the taxi door. "Don't be too cocky, liefde." he rolled his eyes - helping you carry the luggage inside the car.

"Maybe I'll get you to wear red soon," you add - and he gently nudges you inside. "The day that pigs fly - maybe." he laughed, settling his hand on your thigh. The taxi driver in front of you looked familiar - but you couldn't remember where you saw him.

"Oi! Are you Max Verstappen?" the man rudely asks and your boyfriend nods his head. His grip on your thigh tightens - praying to the gods that he wouldn't recognize you. "Yes," he answered politely, playing with the straps of your seatbelt. He was a professional driver but seldom wore it in the passenger seat.

"Very nice eh? Must be the dream." the man complimented, moving his car away from a section of the airport. "We'll be going to ******," your boyfriend informs while fastening the seatbelt around your waist. "If you don't mind - I don't use those digital map thingies. I think that if you wanna be a taxi driver, you gotta know the roads." the man rambled, and your boyfriend continued smiling.

"Yeah, I guess that's the best way to get around things." he replied while playing with his phone. He couldn't believe that the both of you were unlucky enough to score a chatty driver. "How about the girl beside you? Is she your sister?" the man asks intrusively, and a nervous chuckle escapes both of your lips.

"No, she's uhh - my girlfriend." Max confirmed proudly, wrapping his free hand around you. "That very nice," the man nodded his head - trying to get out of a conversation that he started.

leclercuniverse16: ya'll...check channel 4 💀

arthurleclercsupporter1192: YA'LL CHANNEL 4 IS LIVE??? HOW DID REDBULL APPROVE THIS?? HOW DID MAX VERSTAPPEN'S PR TEAM APPROVE THIS??? HOW DID Y/N LECLERC'S PR TEAM APPROVE THIS?? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

charles16ismydaddy: what is going on? i don't have ch 4 - arthurleclercsupporter1192: they were doing one of those gags where they prank celebrities and MAX VERSTAPPEN went inside the taxi with Y/N LECLERC AND HE SAID "No she's my gf" LIKE

LandoNorris

"Y/n what was that?"

Y/N:

landaurrnorris12: lando wtf is this 😭 - LandoNorris: had to jump on it before charles finds out

bellawherehaveubeenloca: TELL CARLOS TO TELL CHARLES - LandoNorris: I think Checo would appreciate having a teammate that's alive ✌🏼

"I'm sorry, I think I took the wrong turn." the taxi driver apologizes, quickly pulling up a paper map from his pocket. "It's totally fine," you smiled at him, playing Helix Jump on your cellphone. He begins driving towards an empty field - to the right place.

"I'm sorry but I got to take a wee," the man apologizes again and your boyfriend agrees; mumbling something along the lines that he understands. Once the taxi driver was out of the car, Max began to panic. "Where are you going?" you ask and he opens the door.

"I think we should get out," he informed you, taking your seatbelt off. "Why?" you inquire - caught in headlights in the sight of danger. "There might be a bomb here," he explained and your eyebrows merged into each other. "Like assassins sent by Ferrari or something," you attempt to lighten the situation but ultimately - the both of you exit the vehicle.

Wildunchartedwatteers

Charles getting out of his car to find Max and Y/N

Y/NL/NWORLDGOSSIP

"Assasins sent by ferrari" Nooooo the enemy (Max Emillian Verstappen) has brainwashed you!!

After a long ride - you finally reached your destination. Max made sure that you were the first person to exit the car. "What's with the cameras?" the man asked while helping your boyfriend take a few of the remaining luggage inside the car. "Umm I don't know - probably something about a documentary," he shrugged, telling the cameras to leave you out of the frame.

"Wait really? Really?" the man repeated the question while taking his disguise off. An amused chuckle exits your lips - he was one of the interviewers for the sports channel. "Fucking hell mate," Max laughed, realizing that it was a setup. "I thought that you were some creep," he grinned while scratching the back of his head.

"He was prepared to run away," you say from behind the camera. "I hope it's fine that I exposed your relationship," the man apologized - quickly telling Max that it wasn't part of the plan. "Nah, you're fine mate - we've been meaning to tell the public anyways." he comforted - freezing once he sees the faint figure of your brother running towards the both of you.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #dad!max verstappen #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #Max Verstappen fanfic

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hunnylagoon · 1 year ago

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Birthday Girl

A/N This is my first tumblr fic. I’m a retired Wattpad warrior, I only wrote this bc the Ellie tag is over diluted by smut, we need some angst and fluff to balance it out. My credentials are that I used to write Game of Thrones fanfic and I was blocked by Noah Beck on Twitter. Apologies in advance for any spelling errors or confusing sentences, bc I was high off my ass when I wrote this.

Summary

Jackson’s resident Baker works herself tirelessly to take care of everyone on their birthday and ensure they get something nice to brighten their special day but who is there to take care of her?

Birthdays are like brilliant gems in the kaleidoscope of time; they are the times when life's symphony crescendos into a celebration of its children. As the sun circles the earth once a year, we are given a day to celebrate our own journey, a day that whispers stories of victories, laughter, and the sweet notes of resiliency. You had always loved birthdays, who didn't? The look of joy on someone's face when they open a gift you spent weeks looking for, the uncontrollable smile and pure serotonin that took over even the grumpiest of people. Everyone had a special day designated to them, of course, it was a cause to celebrate.

You worked in the town bakery with very few other people, from five am to twelve pm on Monday to Friday every single week you were hustling around in a humid bakery, hell, you ran it like the navy. Every morning, walking into the bakery is like stepping into a fragrant paradise where time seems to slow down to the sound of ovens buzzing to life. The first two hours were just for you before you let anyone in, The comforting routine of donning a flour-dusted apron and tying back unruly hair precedes the artistry of crafting pastries and breads. The almost therapeutic rhythm of kneading, rolling, and shaping becomes second nature: the soft crack of eggs, the calculated pour of sugar, and the clouds of flour hovering in midair.

There wasn't much creative freedom while working in the Jackson bakery, it really just consisted of making dozens of bread loaves daily and then carting them over to the 'Barbecue Place' Which was once a restaurant though it had been refashioned into Jackson's mess hall. However, you were able to dabble in some fun and were able to make cupcakes daily and a large batch of miscellaneous pastries every Friday. The cupcakes were very dear to you, you had to beg Maria when you were thirteen to approve the idea and eventually, you were green-lit.

As you step into the bakery you are greeted by the creek of wooden planks which are a testament to decades of busy activity; the dance of innumerable bakers has worn away at their shiny surfaces. The aroma of baked goods still hovers in the air from the previous day and all the days that came before, taking you to a more peaceful time. Sunlight streams through old lace curtains, illuminating worn, mismatched tables and chairs that have served eager clients for centuries though they no longer serve guests in the bakery. Deeply patinated wooden shelves support a variety of ceramic jars, each containing a treasure trove of hidden ingredients. Fading photos and yellowed newspaper clippings decorate the walls, telling the story of the bakery's illustrious past. There are copper pots and pans strung like time capsules on strong hooks, and an old-fashioned cash register sits on the end of the counter past the empty glass displays, it no longer serves a purpose but you have fought bravely to keep it around as it makes you think of what life had been like before the world fell apart.

You look at a beat-up calendar on the walls, sitting in the place of an old picture frame that had been knocked down and shattered by none other than yourself when you were fourteen and had the bright idea of having you and your friend toss a bag of flour at each other to see who was strong enough to last longer in the odd game of catch. Surely, Ellie threw the five-pound bag a little too hard, you ducked to save yourself but it smashed into the framed photo of the family who ran the bakery before the apocalypse. It not only was smashed into little fragments but the bag of flour exploded and covered the dining room of the bakery as well as yourself in white powder, it looked like it had snowed inside. The calendar you were checking held the birthday of every person in Jackson, it was messy and hard to read as you usually had to cram several birthdays into a single day which was only a small square, it was hardly legible, there was almost no one else who could read it. Every day when you walked into the bakery, the first thing you did was check the calendar to find out whose birthday it was, then you began your bread dough or carried on with the sourdough started the day before, while the dough rose, you made cake batter, adjusting the recipe according to how many you had to make. After finishing work for the day or sometimes when you were midway through it, you would give each person a cupcake to celebrate their special day.

Even if no one else remembered their birthday, you were always there to make it a little bit better.

Today there were two birthdays on the calendar, Sean Casey, a man who was turning sixty. The second birthday marked down in the little square was yours.

That's what made that day so special, you were ecstatic to see what your friends had planned for you later. Last year Ellie promised that she would go above and beyond for your next birthday and you were going to hold her to that. There was already a nice start to your morning by having your dad wake you up with breakfast in bed which you found truly impressive as he usually slept in till at least ten, on top of that he had scavenged a stand mixer for the home. You grabbed your apron off of the hook putting it over your neck and tying it tight around your waist. Everyone had a couple of designated aprons to rotate through throughout the week, yours consisted of two plain white ones, a red gingham pattern, one of forest green, and another made of a fabric covered in hyacinth flowers, their colours diluted like paint. Today you wore the apron your father gave you last year on your birthday, it was your favourite colour and the neckline was embroidered to say '(y/n)s kitchen'. You could tell your dad did the embroidery himself, the stitches were loose and uneven in some areas while being extremely tight in others, that's why you loved it so much, it was the thought and care behind it.

With a gentle hand, you pulled each of your necessary ingredients along with equipment out to begin your day. You preheat the ovens and in the quiet pre-dawn hours, the bakery comes alive with the hushed sounds of industrial mixers. The heady scent of freshly milled flour dances in the air as you measure the precise alchemy of ingredients, your hands moving with practiced grace. Kneading the dough becomes repetitive, muscles working in harmony to transform a mound of humble ingredients into a soft elastic texture. As the dough rests and rises, the anticipation builds—the promise of crusty loaves and soft, pillowy interiors. You slipped the pans of dough into the industrial ovens, the heat attacking you the second you opened the door; making sure to place the pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, brioche and wheat loaves all sorted on different racks in the respective ovens.

By the time you put the loaves in ovens it had been two hours from when you began, even with preparation the day before and dough starters, it was a process. You quickly washed your hands before unlocking the door for Juno as well as anyone who wanted to come in to visit.

The clock read '7:09', because of the passthrough you were still able to look outside via the glass storefront, you could see people walking along the streets heading to whatever job they worked to contribute to the community, no one got paid, it was a commune after all, you couldn't imagine a world where everyone was so dependent on money and so obsessed with over-consumption. Part of you was waiting for one of those people to come in and wish you a happy birthday, but you shook the thoughts from your head.

You began to make the small portion for two of cupcake batter, remembering distinctly how four years ago you sat next to Sean at the Fourth of July party and he went on and on about how much he hated vanilla, it seemed like one of those crazy old man rants but you found delight in it. Never had you seen a man so passionate about cake flavouring. He said vanilla was nothing special, flavourless; you had come to learn that he was a chocolate man, every holiday event filling his pot belly with chocolate, when you had brought assorted sweets for a Christmas party he dove straight for the brownies. So it was easy for you to make up your mind on what flavour of cupcake to make.

After years of this cupcake tradition you had memorized each ratio to make, a double serving of chocolate batter consisting of 1/4 cup of flour, 2 1/2 tablespoons of white sugar, 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1/4 tablespoon of baking soda, a dash of salt, 2 tablespoons milk, two tablespoons canola oil, 1/4 tablespoon vanilla extract. You treated baking like it was a science and recipes were your formulas.

As for the frosting, you had a stockpile of plain buttercream that you took small servings from and flavoured according to said person's preference. All you had to do was whip it up and add some cocoa powder to make it fluffy and creamy again.

The bell above the doorway rang, signalling the arrival of someone, you looked up to see Maria. "Hey, there," You smiled, turning off the stand mixer so you could hear her.

"Hi, (y/n)," She greeted and you quickly wiped whatever was on your hands onto your apron before coming around to the service counter to speak with her. "I have something to ask of you."

"Yes?"

"I know you already do your little cupcake thing but we are throwing a surprise party tonight for Sean and I was hoping you could make a cake for him?"

You nod with a smile "Anything for the town chief."

"Great, then how about a simple vanilla cake?"

"Sean doesn't like vanilla," You answered quickly.

"Okay, well I trust you with it, his party starts at eight tonight in the town square and he's turning sixty so it's a big one, I'll see you there around then?"

"Definitely," You grinned at Maria, waiting for her to wish you a happy birthday and reveal that she was only pretending to forget but she didn't. She thanked you and walked out, leaving you in a flour-covered apron with a tinge of hurt in your heart. It wasn't like you weren't close with Maria, you had Thanksgiving at her house every year.

Nonetheless, it was only a blip in your soon-to-be perfect day. Just as you had frosted the two cupcakes, putting chocolate chips on Sean's and breaking half of a double fudge cookie and sticking it into the thick icing. Rainbow sprinkles cascade like confetti, adding a whimsical touch to the miniature confection. The bell rang again calling for your attention, this time you didn't leave the kitchen instead just moved to look at whoever it was by the passthrough.

"Hey, kiddo!" Tommy greeted, clad in a red flannel tucked into blue jeans. He walked into the bakery as comfortably as he would his home.

"Howdy, Tommy," You said, moving out of his sight for a quick moment to put the two cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the buttercream from prematurely melting.

"So, it's Sean's birthday today and I was wondering if you could bake a cake for his party-

"Maria was already in," You answered "Don't worry, I'm on it."

He smiled "Of course, you're always so on top of it," He leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get a look inside the kitchen via the passthrough "Say, have you got anything back there for me?" You opened the box of double fudge cookies you made the day before and scooted around the passthrough to hand him one, boots clattering on the ground. Tommy loved to visit the bakery as you always had a sweet treat for him and he would never get sick of the aromatic embrace of fresh bread. "Thanks, kiddo, I'll see you around."

This was the moment you were almost convinced that they were planning a surprise party for you, sure Maria could forget about your birthday, she was a busy lady but there was no way Tommy would. He was good buddies with your dad and was over at your place for beers a minimum of once a week. You always baked for him when he came over and he constantly joked about you trying to fatten him up.

The bell sounded again though you didn't bother to look up, you knew who it was by the time of the clock, Juno was starting her shift. As usual, she tied her mousy brown hair into a sleek ponytail then grabbed her apron and stuck a baseball cap on over her head so there was no chance of her hair coming loose. "Good morning," She walked into the kitchen, heading over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Mornin'," You answer.

She looks you up and down with a slight smile "You're wearing your favourite apron, must be a special day."

“Sure doesn't feel like it."

♡

Your birthday wasn’t panning out great but you didn't want to lose hope.

You had walked over to the greenhouses after your shift to find Sean, he loved the cupcake, he even hugged you which was nice albeit a little odd. You walked through town a bit after you had stopped and talked to everyone on the street for not a single one to say the words you've been pleading to hear all day. Taking it as defeat, you grabbed a sandwich for lunch from the mess hall and began the desolate walk home.

Nestled at the end of a peaceful, tree-lined street, the charming but battered house had a certain charm that cut through its worn yellow exterior. Tentacles of ivy wrapped about the crumbling outside walls, their green tones infusing the dilapidated building with a hint of the natural world's tenacity. The worn-out yet friendly doormat and weathered rocking chair on the porch told of years spent taking in the changing of the seasons. The wooden frames of the windows, adorned with faded drapes that seen innumerable sunsets, spoke tales of laughter and time passed.

The house's coziness unfolded inside like a time capsule, with worn-out rugs covering creaky floorboards and a fireplace in the living room that was adorned with vintage tiles that were mismatched and provided warmth in more ways than one. The rooms had a lived-in comfort despite the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint, and each mismatched piece of furniture seemed to tell a story of its own. Despite being tatty and ragged around the edges, the house exuded a calmness that invited guests to enjoy the beauty concealed in the flaws of a place that had aged gracefully and with character like most homes in Jackson. The living room was always your favourite, there was a spruce bookshelf pushed behind the gray, L-shaped couch, and the rug was once a maroon colour though it's clear that it's been well-loved over the years. Pillows and throw blankets were carelessly scattered over the couch from when you and your dad had watched '21 Jumpstreet' the night before, he kept saying it was a shame the outbreak happened before they got to make a second one, though many of the jokes didn't land with you, you loved to see your dad laugh so hard he snorted. The room was illuminated by a warm glow from the fairy lights overhead that your dad scavenged years prior, a small stack of books piled up on the coffee table which had been hand-crafted by Joel.

You popped 'Mean Girls' into the DVD player, just to have some background noise and went to the kitchen and started on Sean's cake. As much as you loved the bakery, you wanted to be somewhere a little more close to comfort.

As you measured each ingredient with care, you couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingered in the air. Sifting the ingredients into the bowl, you had wished your father was home from patrol duty, all you really wanted was a hug but instead, you slaved away at a black forest complete with layers of moist sponge, decadent frosting, and a profusion of vibrant decorations.

As you delicately frosted the cake, your mind flitted between thoughts of the celebration and the poignant fact that everyone seemed to have overlooked your own special day. The kitchen, usually a sanctuary for you to escape to, now harboured the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart, though excited for Sean to get a nice surprise on his Birthday, held an unnoticed longing for acknowledgment.

The aroma of the baking cake filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of disappointment that you couldn't quite shake.

As the cake took shape, you couldn't help but think back to the calendar at the bakery, where the date circled in red seemed to mock you. Your own birthday, usually a day filled with surprises and the warmth of laughter, had slipped through the cracks of everyone's awareness. Though the night was still young and Ellie had said that she was planning something incredible.

Finally, nine was about to roll around, you changed into some clean clothes that hadn't yet carried the memories of your disappointing day, just a white top and some jeans. The sun had set, and your dad wouldn't be home for a good while so you walked over to the town square alone.

There was a table full of food and a long banner that read 'Happy Birthday Sean!' strung between two street lamps. There were twinkling fairy lights illuminating what would have otherwise been a dark night.

"There she is!" Tommy smiled, doing that awkward little dad jog over you. "Wow, that cake looks incredible, mind if I take it off your hands?"

"Go ahead," You held out the cakeboard. Tommy gingerly took it away from your grasp, his forearm underneath to support and his other hand held the side of the board for balance.

"I owe ya' kiddo," He winked before taking the cake away to show a group of adults.

You stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with yourself. You turned your attention to the moon, wanting to believe that it shined so very bright just for you, because the moon, unlike everyone else recalled how important this day was to you-

"SURPRISE!" Everyone erupted in cheers as Sean walked up to his party, his daughter had her arm linked with his. He had the biggest smile on his face it almost made you forgive everyone for forgetting because at least Sean got something thoughtful.

"Lord, I was thinking everyone forgot my birthday!" Sean laughed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.

"(y/n)!" Dina yelled, you turned your head to follow her voice. She was sitting at a long picnic table beneath an awning with some friends "Over here," She motioned for you to sit down and you obliged, taking a spot between Ellie and Laila. "What have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you all day."

"That's because you haven't," You said with an awkward smile. "I've just been baking, like always."

"You're always working so hard, I swear you live in that bakery and when you aren't in there your busy busting your ass around town to make sure everyone gets something on their birthday," Dina sat across from you and put a hand onto yours "You look out for everyone, but who's looking out for you?"

"My dad?" You glance at Ellie who isn't tuned into the conversation in the slightest, she has her arms crossed in front of her on the table and her head resting on them.

"Aw, that's sweet-" Kayla moves to look at you but in doing so, she spills a glass of juice onto you. "I'm so sorry," She slaps one hand over her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing. Kayla stood up from the table, her ginger curls rustling with the breeze "I'll get a cloth or something-

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off "It's just clothes, I'll grab some napkins." You push yourself away from the table, walking over to the table adorned with food, you see a small stack of Christmas themed napkins (it must've been hard for them to come by regular ones) and grab a handful, bunching them up in your hand in an attempt to soak up some of the juice that had already indefinitely stained your clothes.

You feel some eyes on you from the other side of the table, to look up and see Joel, he doesn't say anything though his lips are pressed together tight.

"You're back," You say, a spark of happiness rekindling inside of you "So my dad's back from patrol too?"

Joel nods "Too tuckered to come out, said he was just heading home," He uses tongs to put a couple cuts of chicken onto his plate "Oh and happy birthday, you've probably heard that a whole bunch already, lord, it's all your old man would talk about on our last couple of patrols."

"What did you say?" You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure if he said what you really thought.

"I said happy birthday, shame you've stained your clothes on your birthday," He absentmindedly added some mashed potatoes onto his plate. The words hung in the air, a moment that transcended the boundaries of their usual exchanges. You, momentarily taken aback, met Joel's gaze. It was a simple, earnest wish, uttered with the spontaneity of someone who had remembered a small yet significant detail in the whirlwind of festivity.

"Thank you, Joel," You replied, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and gratitude. In that fleeting instant, the isolation that had surrounded her seemed to dissipate. A connection, however tenuous, had been forged in the acknowledgment of her existence amidst the collective celebration.

"No problem, kid, I'll see you around," He left with his plate leaving you to stand alone at the table. You continued to dab at the juice on your white top, and though you knew it wouldn't come out you proceeded to rub it; the best exchange of your day, no more than eight sentences suddenly turned from joy to frustration. The only two people who remembered your birthday were your dad and a fiftey-eight-year-old man who practically raised the girl you had spent years crushing on, not the girl herself, but her father figure. However, you thought, maybe if Joel remembered, Ellie had aswell and she actually did have something planned.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter that reverberated through the night, you stood in the midst of flickering candles and colourful decorations, your eyes cast down to the ground. The atmosphere of celebration enveloped her, but a palpable sense of solitude hung in the air like a heavy mist settling upon your shoulders. It was a birthday party, yes, but not your own. Forgotten and overlooked, your heart echoed with a quiet ache, the irony of your situation casting a shadow over the festive scene.

The square was adorned with streamers and balloons, a tapestry of colours that seemed to dance in rhythm with the joyful voices around her. The community gathered, their faces lit by the warm glow of the fairy lights and street lamps, each one caught up in the merriment of the moment. Yet, for you, the celebration felt like a distant spectacle, a scene from which you were detached.

It was your birthday too—a fact that no one cared enough to recall. As Darla (Sean's daughter) calls guests toward a decadent cake adorned with candles, which you had made, you couldn't escape the bitter irony of the situation. You watched as the room erupted into a chorus of "Happy Birthday," the song meant for another soul, another moment of joy. You joined in, lips forming the familiar words, your voice harmonizing with the collective melody. But within the depths of your being, the celebration rang hollow, a stark contrast to the cheer that echoed around you.

Throughout the evening, you navigated the party with a forced smile, concealing the invisible weight of your emotions. Conversations buzzed like bees in your ears, no- it grated like a fork in a blender, but you found yourself on the outskirts—a silent observer amidst the numerous connections. The laughter that erupted like fireworks, the clinking of glasses, the embraces of old friends—it all seemed distant, an echo from another realm where she once belonged.

The party unfolded as a series of snapshots: a group photo with smiling faces, a toast to Sean, and the opening of gifts that weren't meant for you. Each moment, though vibrant and filled with the warmth of shared camaraderie, magnified the silence that enveloped your own celebration, forgotten and left to dissolve into the shadows.

As the night carried out, seeming like the celebration would never cease, you cut yourself a slice of cake, grabbing one of the half-melted candles that Sean had already blown out, they sat in a frosting-covered pile next to the cake. You took your favourite colour out of the rainbow assortment of candles and stuck it into the piece of black forest cake.

With your cake you sat back down by Ellie at the picnic table where she still returned to after conversing, everyone else had gotten up to dance. You reached for the lighter in your pocket and struck it to ignite, sparks flickered around the end of it, you struck it again and a flame arose, you carefully brought it to the wick of the partially melted candle.

The flickering flame cast a subtle glow as you made a silent wish for understanding, for the beauty found in selflessness, and for the recognition that sometimes the most meaningful celebrations are the ones we craft for others, even in the quiet echoes of our own unacknowledged birthdays. Ellie turned to look at you as the candle's flame danced in the darkness, before you could blow out the candle to solidify your wish a little girl climbed up onto the bench and blew it out, you looked at her and all she did was smile up at you, the gap in her teeth prominent, her deep chocolate hair braided so intricately you had to believe that it must've taken her mother hours.

As much as you wanted to deck that little girl in the face for ruining your moment, you didn't because it would be wildly inappropriate. "Do you want this?" You sighed, holding out the plate to the girl, she smiled and nodded enthusiastically, taking the cake and scattering away "Hey, Ellie," You pushed back tears in your eyes, forcing a smile on your face "Got any plans later?"

“Yeah," She said, short

"Oh, what are they?"

"Not to sound like a cunt but I'm not really in the mood to talk, I had a shit patrol and all I want to do is go home, smoke a joint, watch a movie, maybe read a comic, and pass out on my couch, the only reason I'm here is that Dina dragged me out and Joel said I need to be more involved in the community."

Your smile dropped, you couldn't hold it in anymore, realizing that this wasn't the elaborate setup of a surprise party but Ellie genuinely forgot it was your birthday. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what's happening today?"

"It's Sean's birthday," She gestured to the party around her.

"You're fucking serious," Any amusement that had been in your tone was gone, replaced by a subtle anger boiling up inside of you

"Are you going to cry?" Ellie gave you a weird look "What are you so mad about?"

"I can't believe you," You laugh bitterly "Actually I can, this is so like you, I need to stop building it up in my head that you're going to surprise me with something great. But hey, at least you never fail to let me down."

"Jesus," She scoffed "There's always something going on with you, can you go one day without finding some irrational reason to be upset?"

"Irrational?"

"Yeah, irrational," She reiterated "You always come to me when something sets you off in the slightest then your problem becomes everyone else's. You're so fucking draining and I'm sick of it."

"Fuck you, I hope your comic catches fire from your joint and you burn your place down." You stand up from the bench, wiping tears away from your eyes. Your boots clattered against the cobblestone. You stormed past the dancers, some stopping to look at one another with concern. Dina leaves Jesse to ask Ellie what happened.

The walk home might've been the loneliest you had felt in your life, the harsh wind of the night bit at your nose. The feeling of the sticky juice soaking through your clothing was borderline unbearable, were just about ready to scream. There wasn't a single person out and about as everyone was either at the party or cozied up in their own homes.

Arriving at your doorstep, you fumbled with the handle, the metallic clink resonating in the quietude that enveloped the house. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit foyer, still no surprise. Why do you still think there is going to be a party? No one is coming.

You wandered into the living room, the TV was lit with the options screen for 'Mean Girls' that you had put on hours earlier.

Sinking into the worn-out couch, You let the weight of the day wash over you. A single tear welled in your eye, and as it escaped, a floodgate of unshed sorrow burst open. The first teardrop traced a silent path down your cheek, leaving a glistening trail of heartache in its wake.

The tears you cried weren't silent and dainty but violent sobs that burned your throat each time you cried out. As you wept, it felt like someone had stabbed your gut with a thousand needles, you cried and cried, to no one in particular, maybe the moon glistening outside the window though the moon seemed to absorb your tears, offering no solace in return.

The soft tick of the clock on the wall echoed in the quiet room, marking the strike of midnight, your birthday had ended. There was no secret party or a prank where everyone was only playing an act, only the emptiness of the house echoed the howls soaked in your tears.

The oak staircase creaked, and your dad turned the corner, peering into the living room. "What's wrong, honey,?" He shook the sleep from his mind, focusing on what was important, he sat next to you on the sofa. "I thought you said you were going to be out all night with your friends?"

You shook your head, breathing shaky breaths alone, hardly able to get a word out "They forgot," You felt the harsh sting of desolation hit you all over again "Everyone forgot," You grabbed his grey t-shirt burying your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you gently like you were a child who had just scraped her knee not someone who had just turned nineteen, "Except for Joel, so be nice to him, please."

"I'm sorry, baby, it was probably just a mix-up," He rubbed one hand on your back to comfort you. "I should've been there with you, I'm so sorry."

You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, all you could manage was to shake in your father's arms with sobs until you cried yourself to sleep.

♡

"Happy birthday, Jasmine!" You smile brightly, presenting a lemon-raspberry cupcake to the woman. She was serving breakfast in the mess hall, the early morning light streaming through the many windows, blinding those trying to enjoy their meals.

"Aw, thank you, love" She took the cupcake "That's real sweet," She wore a hairnet, despite having short cropped hair. "I just realized I don't even know when your birthday is."

"It was yesterday, actually."

"Aww, how was it?" Jasmine smiled, her white teeth contrasting with her dark skin.

"It was nice, it was quiet too, I just spent it by myself."

A frown replaced Jasmine's smile and she lowered her tone "Did your friends drop the ball?"

You wave off her question "Oh no, loads of people remembered, I just wanted some time to myself, it was nice."

You could tell Jasmine didn't wholeheartedly believe you, she was at Sean's party last night and saw you rush out with tears building in your eyes "If you say so," She shrugged, taking a bite of her cupcake "This is really good."

"Thanks," A small smile plays on your lips.

"God bless you, sweetheart, you deserve the best." She said, every bit of truth behind her words. She took another bite of the cupcake, savouring the sweet and sour taste "And I mean that."

You were too caught up in conversation to notice Jesse ahead of you in the service line right away, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the dispenser, trying to play cool and not have your attention drawn to him. With a shaky hand, he put the glass on his tray and hurried over to the table where Ellie was eating with Dina. "Guys, something not that great just happened."

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows looking from Dina to Jesse "What?" She asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, she swallowed them down and spoke back up "Please tell us what terrible thing has happened in the time it took you to walk to the service line, get your food and come back?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"We forgot (y/n)'s birthday," He said quickly, Ellie and Dina looked at each other with wide eyes, thinking back to the night before and the way they had both behaved. Dina was extremely ignorant and Ellie got into an argument with you, though Jesse didn't speak to you at all.

"We're awful friends," Dina says quietly, scraping her mind for any way they could salvage the situation and play it off like they hadn't forgotten. "We could change all of the calendars in town and make it seem like her birthday is actually today."

"Be serious, Dina," Jesse said, though he was considering her idea. "I think the only way we can fix this is by making it up to her."

"How would we do that? We can't make it up to her, she remembers every single person's birthday in this town and gives them a cupcake, even people she doesn't like, do you remember how she planned all of our birthday parties for the last four years and has never let us down?" Dina and Jesse nodded "And how we always scramble something together last minute? Like last year, we only remembered two days before and we threw her a subpar movie night, we watched Star Wars and she doesn't even like Star Wars."

Dina sucked air through her teeth "Yeah, not our best moment."

"You think?" Jesse asked, sarcastically. "And Ellie didn't make it any better by yelling at her yesterday!"

"You yelled at her? You told me you didn't yell at her," Dina whipped her head to look at Ellie, the smallest glimpse of judgment in her eyes. "Shh, she's coming!"

You were making your way to the exit lugging the cart that had held loaves of bread on it before you dropped them off to the kitchen, still in your flour-covered apron, hair pinned up messy, baby hairs flying away. Clad in jeans, a green T-shirt and beaten-up boots, clacking against the hardwood floor, you still looked beautiful to Ellie with red eyes and a puffy face from crying all night. "Watch this," Jesse murmured to the group before turning around and flagging you down. "Hey (y/n)!" He smiled brightly, his words catching your attention "Did you enjoy your birthday, yesterday?"

"Jesse, I know you heard me talking to Jasmine." You said and Ellie couldn't bear the disappointed look on your face. At that moment, the guilt hit her all at once. You had been the first kid her age that she warmed up to when she arrived in Jackson, trying your best to include her in everything. You invited her to hang out with your friends even though she didn't particularly get along with them, she went anyway because she just wanted to see you. On her birthday the previous year, you had scoped out an old comic store hours away just to bring her there for one day.

Jesse's smile fell and you had walked out the door before he had the chance to push a lie through his teeth. Last night's conversation echoed through Ellie's head over and over again, she cringed at the memory, god, why did she even say that?

Dina reached over the table and gave Ellie a harsh smack on the arm "Why did you even say that?!"

"Ow," She flinched, rubbing the spot that had been assaulted by Dina "What are you talking about?"

Dina looked at Ellie like she was just about ready to scream "What you said to her last night, what was going through your head?"

"Not much, apparently," Jesse answered for her, earning a death glare from the Auburn girl.

"I'll just apologize and it'll be water under the bridge," Ellie said, leaning back.

"That's not going to work," Dina replied quickly.

It, in fact, did not work. Ellie had shown up at the bakery where you promptly ignored her. "(y/n), I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday and said those things to you." Nothing Ellie said could get you to even look at her.

She had later stopped by your house, it was your dad who answered the door and Ellie sheepishly asked if you were home. He called for you to come down, the moment you saw Ellie, you shut the door in her face. There was no way she could defend herself, she couldn't say that she said those things because she had a bad day (even though she did), and that would just make her seem pathetic. She really wanted to say that she was scared of how much she liked you, she didn't want to ruin a good thing, you both had spent years playing the role of each other's best friend until Ellie started to distance herself from you and you ended up enwrapping yourself with work to distract yourself from the fact that she was drifting away.

Ellie didn't know what to do, if she didn't act fast, it would be too late and she was going to lose you.

♡

One week later

The sun was just beginning to set as you were already preparing to settle into bed and read a book, just about to change out of your floor-length sundress and into one of your dad's old shirts. However, your plans were interrupted when you heard your dad screaming downstairs, it was blood-curdling. You dropped everything, pulling your bedroom door open and rushing down the stairs, tripping on a step and stumbling before quickly regaining balance and moving with haste "Dad?" You called out, worry running through your head.

"SURPRISE!" People practically screeched, the volume so loud that you jolted back in fear. The chatter only grew as you looked around you and realized what was happening, this was your belated birthday party.

You were pulled in suddenly for a hug, squeezing you so tight you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull was Tommy "I'm so sorry, kiddo, I was being a real shithead on your birthday."

"It's okay," You choked out, nearly gasping for air. Much to your relief, he released you and you took a deep breath.

"Happy belated birthday!" Dina sang, placing a fat box in your arms. Many people followed after her, piling gifts on top of the initial one, you were quickly losing balance, so you stumbled into the living room and put the gifts onto the coffee table. There was so much life in the living room it was almost hard to believe that just a week before you had been crying alone, bathed in moonlight.

There were streamers strung throughout your house and odd dangly decorations that hung from the ceiling. Some balloons were taped to the walls while others bounced around the ground.

The lively hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the melodic strains of birthday wishes filled the room as the party pulsated with energy. Colourful decorations adorned the walls, and the air was charged with the festive spirit.

You had the biggest smile on your face while everyone joked and jeered. Shoving their gifts into your face, trying to get you to open them first. It had made you forget about how awful your real birthday was, though you did try to dodge awkward apologies of people fumbling over their own words to make up excuses as to why they missed your real birthday.

"Happy birthday to you-" A voice began singing, and soon enough the entire crowd joined in, harmonizing into an off-key rendition of the birthday song. They made way for the person carrying the cake which had been none other than Ellie herself. The song ended off and Ellie placed the cake in front of you on the coffee table. "Make a wish."

You blew out all of the candles, and no punchable little girl around to steal your thunder, the room erupted into applause. The celebration continued with the living room becoming a dance floor, laughter echoing through the corridors, and conversations flowing freely. The cake itself reminded you of the embroidery your dad had done on your apron, it was sloppy and imperfect but you could tell it was made with love, the icing had been put on prematurely and had partially melted off the cake. It read 'Happy birthday' with 'Sorry for being a dick' written smaller beneath the first bit of text.

"Thank you, Ellie," You smiled softly up at her.

No one else was paying attention to you anymore, aside from those who wanted a slice of cake. Ellie nervously fumbled around with her hands "Do you want to dance?"

Ellie invited you to dance as the opening notes of the song floated through the air and she held out her hand. With a gentle smile, you accepted and you moved into the middle of the living room to form a makeshift dance floor. The soft aroma of fresh flowers blended with the scent of vanilla candles created an ambiance that enhanced the moment's sensory magic.

To the gentle beat of the song, your bodies moved in unison. Your hand settled comfortably on Ellie's shoulder, and her hand wrapped around your waist. Your bond transcended the material in the living room dance, an unspoken language of mutual feelings and unknown depths.

You both danced, recklessly, so much so that you were nearly a hazard for the swaying couples drifting around you, moving faster and not hurriedly as the tempo picked up. With each step, the living room's walls became silent witnesses to a romance that was developing on the plush carpet under their feet. The muted rustle of your clothing and the melodic notes of the music were all that could be heard to your ears.

The two of you took great pleasure in the dance's exuberance, laughing at the imperfect nature of it. In the noise of the living room, your eyes, locked in a dance of their own, spoke volumes. You were embraced by the dim lighting's vulnerability, which freed you from the burdens of the outside world to fully enjoy the moment.

Ellie guided you in a soft spin as the song went on, your moves were not fluid and elegant but Ellie could've sworn that looking into your eyes made it feel like there was liquid sunlight coursing through your veins

You and Ellie drew closer in the song's last moments, your bodies pressed together in an embrace that went beyond the material. As the last notes of the music faded, they held each other for an extra moment, relishing the warmth that they shared and the unspoken promises that danced between them. You wished that you could've stayed in Ellie's strong embrace for centuries.

You let go of Ellie, taking a step back with a smile, "Why didn't you tell me you were such a good dancer?" You tease, almost out of breath.

"I didn't know I was," She grinned, taking the sight of you in. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair had become messy, she thought you to be beautiful all the same, if not more. Her eyes raked over your body, your floor-length sundress and mismatched socks "And here I was thinking it was too late for sundresses."

"It's never too late, Ellie."

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #slow burn #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #Ellie Williams X reader angst #angst #fluff #ellie x fem reader #mean!ellie #tlou #super slow burn

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feyhunter78 · 5 months ago

Note

the way your jon snow fic has the most VICOUS hold on me. like i love it so much you have no idea. please please add me to that tag list! also whens the next part coming out i beg to know.

I can do that, and I'll do ya one better and drop the next chapter right here!!!!!

Chapter Eleven - Another marriage, and now a few moons later Queen Margaery has settled into her throne and it is time to celebrate her nameday with yet another feast, this time in Highgarden.

Ch 12

When your Uncle Jamie—really your only uncle now, as your Uncle Robert is long dead—slips back inside your aunt’s solar, he seems different, withdrawn, and pensive. You blame it on the death of his eldest child, wishing to not worry about whatever he and Jon spoke of. Though you know he is not so broken up about Joffrey’s death, he never truly liked the boy.

Your aunt is calm now, only a few stray tears and sniffles, Tommen curled in her lap. Your grandsire sitting in a chair his back ramrod straight, your father standing by your side as you lean against the table, your eyes on the large windows overlooking the Keep.

“We must uncover the assassins and hold a proper funeral for the king.” Your aunt says, her arms wrapped tightly around Tommen.

“We must write to Myrcella first; she needs to know of Joffrey’s death from us, not strangers.” You argue.

“No, we must secure the safety of all members of the royal family.” Your uncle says, his arms folded across his chest.

Your grandsire sighs. “You are all wrong, first we must arrange for Lady Margaery to marry Tommen and place Tommen on the throne, we cannot waste time, every second he does not sit on the Iron Throne more schemes to take it from him are hatched.”

“He is barely half her age.” Cersei protests.

You look at your father, this must be part of the plan, though you do not understand how, it must be. Besides, Tommen is a sweet boy, he will not harm her, nor will Margaery harm him.

“Grandsire is right, we cannot allow the Tyrells to slip from our fingers.” You say, earning a look of approval from your grandsire, one you so rarely get.

So now you stand in the crowd once more, dressed less lavishly than you were for Joffrey’s wedding, watching as Tommen and Margaery say their vows. The affair is duller, quieter, Margaery of course looks beautiful, but you cannot find it in yourself to be joyous. Your father has not explained how this is part of the plan. The wedding has happened, the vows were said, how is she to marry Robb while Tommen still lives? Perhaps an annulment? It would make sense; Tommen is far too young; no bedding will happen until he is of age. But it does not make sense in terms of succession.

You wring your hands, trying to piece together some way Robb can take the throne while Tommen still lives. Then the ceremony is over, the feasting and dancing commences, and Tommen seems…happy. That is truly all you want for him, happiness, but there is a cloud hanging over you that you cannot shake.

As you disperse with the rest of the crowd, a tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned man steps into your view, his fine clothing colorful and cut in a distinct fashion.

“Lady y/n, may I have this dance?” Lord Oberyn Martell extends his hand, and you take it, giving him a gracious smile.

Myrcella has written of Oberyn, of his quick wit, of the way he dotes on his daughters, how he cares greatly for nieces and nephews, and though he still holds her at a distance he is not unkind to her. Despite all that she still warns you to be wary of him, that he earned the name Red Viper for a reason.

The song is familiar, the steps easy, and you fall in line with the other dancers, gliding and turning on beat, the melodious strings accompanied by clear toned woodwinds invoking the image of young lovers enjoying a spring day.

“Your cousin speaks highly of you.” Lord Oberyn says, his words far more accented than Jon’s, but still clear as day.

“I do miss her.” You twirl then return within his arm’s reach.

“Trystane takes good care of her I can assure you; I have never seen a young man more smitten than him” There is a look on his face, one of mischief, and he gracefully inclines his head towards Jon. “Though your White Wolf could put up a fair fight.”

“He is devoted, as a sworn sword should be.” You say nonchalantly, before attempting to turn the conversation back to Myrcella.

Oberyn stops you, dipping you low, a devilish smile on his handsome face directed towards someone you cannot see, though you imagine it is Jon. “If that is the case, then perhaps, I shall take your aunt up on her offer of further betrothals in Dorne.”

You stumble, catching the Dornish prince’s foot with the edge of your heel. “My apologies, My Lord.”

“No harm done; I expected such a reaction.”

“I think it would be best to speak with my father, not my aunt, if you wish to marry me to one of your nephews or cousins.” You say primly, curtsying to him once the dance has finished.

He presses your hand to his lips. “And if I wished to marry you myself? Would I still need to speak with your father.”

Your face burns and you snatch your hand away. “You have daughters younger than me, Prince Oberyn, and I do not think their mother would take kindly to another woman attempting to take her place. Nor would I want to. I mean no offense, but I cannot enter a marriage where I must share my husband, especially not when the other woman has had him first.”

He laughs, the sound warm, banishing the tension from the air around you, lifting the weight from your shoulders. It reminds you a little of how Jon laughs, the comfort it brings. Is this how all Dornish men laugh? If so, you can understand why Lyanna and Myrcella did not find it hard to fall for their own Dornish lovers.

“She would not, but she will appreciate your words.” He takes your hand gently, kissing it once more, then releasing you.

You give him a smile and gracefully take the arm of your next partner, then the next one then the next one, until finally Jon is able to steal you away, leading you back to your father.

“I have just turned down Oberyn Martell’s proposal, Father, I wished to let you know.” You say, a weary smile on your face as you slump in the chair next to him.

“Oh, did you? How bold these Dornish are, asking a girl for her hand without first consulting with her father.” Your father says, a ghost of a grin on his lips.

Jon stiffens from his place behind you.

“I reminded him he has daughters younger than me. Also, that I would not share my husband, it is too…unsavory for me, though of course I did not phrase it so.”

Your father snorts. “You told the Red Viper that you will not play the whore in your own marriage?”

You can hear Jon shifting his weight, and he hates when others use what he deems foul language in your presence. Though, you always remind him that Theon had given you quite the course in how to speak as a proper sailor does.

“No, I said I would not like to take the place of another woman.” You take a cube of cheese from his plate and pop it in your mouth. “Though perhaps I should have said lions are far too possessive to ever share their mates.” You catch sight of Jon in your peripheral and flash him a teasing smile.

He clears his throat and looks away, his arms clasped behind his back.

Jon has been oddly distant since the night of Joffrey’s death, and you fear it has more to do with whatever your uncle said to him than the death of the so-called king.

“Do you not think I spoke right, Ser Jon?” You ask, unable to resist drawing him into the conversation, though you know he would rather not participate.

“I think it is dishonorable to take more than one wife, or to have a mistress. It sullies not only the marital bed, but the house itself.” He says, his posture stiff, his words stilted.

You frown and your father shrugs before handing you another cheese cube.

The Roseroad toward Highgarden is well-kept, guards and small towns scattered along the winding road, the countryside lush and brimming with life. The air is cleaner here, sweet smelling compared to the unwashed filth that permeates the air of King’s Landing, and you are once again thankful that no one allowed your Aunt Cersei to take her gargantuan wheelhouse on this trip.

You are divided into smaller groups, within smaller wheelhouses, with windows that allow air to flow through. Your aunt is in one with her ladies, your father, uncle, and Tommen ride their horses alongside the guards, while you and Margaery were able to snag a wheelhouse to yourselves. Margaery claims she needs the extra space to prepare for her nameday festivities, and no one could deny their queen.

“We are a few hours out from my home, I cannot wait to show you the grounds, they are especially beautiful this time of year.” Margaery says, looking out the window, her face lit with a radiant smile.

It has been a few moons since her wedding to Tommen, and you have grown closer to the older girl, you and she are in fact Tommen’s favorite people and in turn spend much time together with or without him.

“I have heard tales, but I am sure words cannot compare.” You say, joining her at the window as she points out places she used to ride to with her brothers.

After a while of you two quietly enjoying the countryside, Margaery clears her throat delicately. “Speaking of words.” She draws back from the window and pulls the curtain closed. “Have you heard anything from our dear redheaded friend?”

You scoot closer to her, lowering your voice to a whisper. “She writes to say that all is well, her home has fallen back into routine and regrets she is unable to attend the celebrations but holds out hope she will see us soon.”

“And what about…” Robb, she means Robb, she wishes to know if he thinks of her.

You reach into your satchel and dig out a letter, “I had been hoping to save it as a nameday present, but I guess I could give it to you now.”

After her and Tommen’s wedding your father roped you into secreting letters between Margaery and Robb, the seals were Hawthorne coming in, and Lannister going out. In truth, it made you feel part of a romantic story, playing the kind maid that helps the young lovers sneak away to be together.

Margaery rips open the letter and devours it, a soft smile on her face, her hand coming to cover her lips as her eyes begin to water.

“What, what did he say?” You ask, suddenly alarmed by the tears in your friend’s eyes.

She hands the letter to you, “he—he is so sweet.”

My dearest Lady Margaery,

I cannot tell you how delighted I still am each time your letters arrive, though I must admit my joy is dimmed by the continued reminder that you are wed to another. That I cannot speak freely of my affections for you. I know it is in name only, and that I should not be envious of a child no more than eight nearly nine namedays, but I am. To think that I, a man grown, is envious of a child for the mere fact that he is allowed to hold your hand. That he is allowed to call your name, to dance with you, it is shameful, but I would bear this shame and many others for you. There will come a day soon that we will be united, that I will take your hand and let all the realm know that you are not only my queen, but my heart’s desire.

I shall not drag on with sentiment lest I embarrass myself, so I will get to the meat of this letter. Sansa informed me it is to be your nameday soon, and that you will be traveling to Highgarden to celebrate. Part of me wished to set out for Highgarden the moment she said so, surely, I would be able to disguise myself well enough, but Sansa squashed that scheme quite quickly. Nevertheless, I am hopeful that Lady y/n will be able to present you with my gift. And if it is not too forward, I would ask that you wear it during the celebrations, and know that I am with you, that you carry my heart in your hands.

I have had your latest portrait replicated, made smaller, and set within a locket so that I might carry it around wherever I go. Theon teases me quite mercilessly about it, but I care not. While we are parted, I wish to do all I can to keep your visage beside me. The curve of your smile, the light in your eyes, and the soft blush that adorns your cheeks, they give me strength, and I will draw on them until we meet, and I no longer need drawn or painted images.

The Gods smiled upon the realm the day you were born, and I swear to you, when we are finally together, I will spend every moment I can making up for our time apart, especially your namedays.

- Ever yours, Robb

“This is quite sweet; he has a way with words I would not expect.” You say, handing her the letter back.

“Why would he not? Even the way Jon spoke to you when he helped you into the wheelhouse was full of passion.” She bristles, holding the letter close to her chest.

You need only call for me, I will not be far. Perhaps have Ghost stay with you, it would ease my mind. He had said, before trying to force a very resistant Ghost into the wheelhouse. You thanked him but told him to let Ghost run free, knowing the direwolf would grow bored on the long journey.

You reach out and squeeze her hand. “I meant no offense, it is only that Jon has spent much time here, and Robb has not. I imagined they would speak differently, but it seems there is a hidden romantic streak in House Stark.”

She smiles, a pretty blush decorating her face, then she smooths out her expression and holds out her hand with the air of a queen. “My gift please?”

“Of course, My Queen.” You say, bowing your head ridiculously far as you hand her the small velvet bag.

She pulls the drawstrings open, gasping as she carefully pulls out the gift. It is a necklace made of gold and citrine, arranged in an elegant yet sturdy way, the gems draping down, the gold perfect and glowing against Margaery’s skin. “It is as he has described Grey Wind’s eyes.”

“Is there anything else?” You ask curiously, smiling as she holds it up to her chest once more.

She digs in the bag and finds a golden ring, engraved with the letters M and R in curling script, hidden within the rose emblem.

You hold out your hand for it, and she gives it to you. You fiddle with the edge of it until it pops open. Inside reveals a small, detailed portrait of a bright blue eye. “I wondered if he would go through with it.”

“Is that his?” Margaery asks, tracing the edges of the ring longingly.

“From what I remember it is, and Tommen also has blue eyes, so if anyone discovers it, they will be none the wiser.

She carefully replaces the gifts in their bag, and you feel a pang of sadness. You cannot imagine what she must feel like, married to a child, in love with a man she must keep secret, unable to even pretend they are merely friends, unable to freely send him letters.

A knock on the wheelhouse door pulls you from your thoughts. “My Queen, My Lady, we have nearly arrived.”

Highgarden is beyond beautiful, set upon a hill overlooking the Mander, built with clean white stone, and narrow towers that seem to scrape the clouds. Rows and rows of briar hedges, fields of flowers, and works of art tastefully scattered about the halls and grounds, complete the fairy tale look of the Tyrell’s castle, and you cannot wait to see more.

“And you must see the Three Singers, our Godswood is known throughout the realm for its beauty.” Margaery says, as the wheelhouse finally grinds to a halt and the door is pulled open.

“Sister,” Loras says, holding out his hand to her. “Welcome home.”

Margaery takes his hand, gracefully exiting the wheelhouse, her excitement radiating from her like rays of the sun. Then Loras goes to help you, but Jon’s hand is already there.

“My Lady, the Dowager Queen requires a word with you.” Jon says, his face unreadable, his eyes never lingering on you for too long.

“Thank you, Ser Jon, I will go to her once we have settled into our chambers.”

You sit and wait for your aunt, fiddling with your sleeves, birdsong, and the sound of harps playing floats in through the open window.

She sweeps in, head held high, and closes the window, plunging the room into dead quiet. “I know your father has been lenient with you since your poor mother died, but as your aunt, the only motherly figure in your life, I can no longer stand by and watch you waste away your future.”

“Beg pardon?”

She takes your hands, her expression soft, caring, one you have not seen since you were a little girl. “Y/N, we must find you a husband, a good man, who will provide for you, for your children.”

“Father said—”

“I know your father has filled your head with stories of freedom, and true love, but that is for children, and you have not been a child for some time now.” She takes the seat across from you, her ruby gown looking harsh and garish among the soft colors and fabrics of the guest chamber she has been given.

“You are right, I am no longer a child.” You agree, trying to give her an answer that betrays nothing of true value.

She brushes your cheek with her knuckles, her eyes looking for something, in your own. “Your mother was a great beauty, with a kind heart, far too kind. I do not want you making the same mistake she did. Not that you are a mistake, my darling girl, you are the only worthwhile thing that has ever come from my brother, but your mother did not examine her prospects wisely enough.”

“I do not have any prospects.” You tell her, torn between feeling comforted and wounded by her words.

“At tomorrow night’s feast there will be many lords from all across the realm, and you will dance with them, you will talk and flatter, and laugh at their jests even if they are not humorous.”

“But if I dance with so many, how will I know who is good?”

She gives you a smile and smooths down your hair. “Allow me to take care of that, I want you to enjoy yourself, and show the realm how delightful you are.”

“I will try.” You say, giving her a weak smile, hoping she believes it is born of nerves and not a complete lack of interest.

“You will do more than try, you will succeed.”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film

#meg's writing #jon snow imagine #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x you #jon snow imagines #lannister!reader #robb stark x margaery tyrell

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starryknight-tarot · 1 year ago

Text

𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓻

pile 1 -- > pile 2

pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls✨ I am back with another tarot card reading. It's been a minute cause I've been feeling kinda lazy. Today we will be looking into what is next in yalls career. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Pile 1

Cards: Nine of Pentacles, Eight of Swords rx, Two of Swords, Nine of Swords, Ten of Cups, The Empress, Seven of Cups rx, Six of Pentacles

Back of the deck: Death

There is a lot of positive changes coming in your career Pile 1. You could have been held down by a tough career that wasn't fulfilling you or you could have felt that it wasn't your life's purpose to be working there. You also could have a strict authority figure in your life that has pressured you to do a certain job, maybe even taking on the family business I am hearing. I keep seeing people dancing so you could be a dancer and people in your life don't approve. But I am seeing you over coming this Pile 1. I am seeing you as free, no longer bound by the things holding you back from pursuing your dreams. After you finally go for it and take action to your dream job, it will manifest easily. I am hearing that companies will fight for you to join them. I am hearing this will happen very quickly, and it may be very overwhelming for you. There may be a tough decision that you need to make regarding the future of your career and it is stressing you out. There is a lot of anxiety and self doubt in this pile so you may not believe that it's possible for this to happen and doubt your abilities but I am really getting that you can do anything you put your mind to. Negative thoughts right now will only make these opportunities come slower. Right now, you need to realize that you have the power to do something incredible with your skills, you deserve better than what you have now and your career will blossom. When you do, money will be abundant. You may have been paid very poorly and unfair, but I am seeing you will be paid for your hard work and it will be plentiful. You will feel a sense of belonging in your career, a career you can grow old doing. You may even make close friends at your job that will stay with you for a lifetime. You need to take a risk and take action to manifest this in your career Pile 1.

Advice Cards:

It's time to try something new!

Your child self needs your attention

Have a closer look at your family situation

It is important to understand and value your own energy

You can manifest your heart's desire

You need to make the first move

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2

Cards: Four of Cups rx, Ten of Wands rx, Two of Swords rx, The Hanged Man rx, Strength, The High Priestess, The World, Ace of Wands

Back of the deck: Nine of Cups

I feel like you are someone that has held on to a childhood dream your whole life Pile 2. You are so passionate about your dream career, that you can't imagine doing anything else. And I do feel like this career is your divine purpose. But for some reason you are holding yourself back achieving this. I feel like you have been waiting for this dream to manifest without actually making the moves to bring it to life. Pile 2, I feel like you have skills that the world needs to see, you could aspire to be an influencer or a celebrity. I keeping hearing, "The world needs to see you." you could also just want to do something that is very public. I feel like a career with a lot of freedom to be as creative as possible would be the best for you Pile 2. You have a lot of great ideas and plans that I am hearing would go viral. For some of you, you may be into fashion or making clothes. Some of you may even be tarot readers and it's your divine purpose to help guide people through spirituality. Pile 2, I feel like you are scared to put yourself out there and admit that you are something special and have the talent to achieve your dream. I am seeing you achieving your dream Pile 2. When you finally push through and post what you need, apply for the job, suggest an idea, you will be rewarded by the universe. When you do this you will gain more confidence in yourself to finally do more and put yourself out there more. It will encourage you to be more creative and make even more beautiful ideas. You really just need to believe in yourself Pile 2!

Advice Cards:

Change is being introduced into your life

You are much stronger than you think

It's time to realize the blueprint of your soul

Set the conditions. You will succeed!

It is time to take appropriate action

You are healing at a cellular level

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3

Cards: Five of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Nine of Wands, Seven of Pentacles, The Star, Knight of Pentacles, Eight of Swords, Ten of Swords rx

Back of the deck: The Empress

I am getting for this pile that this may be your first job or you are just starting a new job. I am seeing that this job is something you have been trying really hard to get to, something that would get you closer to your dreams. I am also getting that some of you are very anxious about this new job and I am hearing that you really need to keep a positive mindset when approaching this job which I know is easier said then done but I would recommend repeating affirmations when you get nervous about. I am specifically thinking of drag queen named Jinx Monsoon that repeats "water off a ducks back" when she gets nervous so that might resonate with someone lol. I am seeing you are very hardworking Pile 3, willing to push yourself to achieve your goals. But some of you need to brace yourself and try not to overwork yourself so you don't burn yourself out. If you push yourself, you will feel trapped in an endless loop, I am seeing a spider caught in a web. Despite this I do see a lot of financial successful coming towards you Pile 3. I think it will make you feel really accomplished and proud of yourself (as you should). Although I am seeing some of your coworkers have really nasty energy and they may be jealous of all your success. I feel like they may try to bring you down so beware of any nasty energies around you Pile 3. While there may be a lot of jealously with some coworkers, I am seeing someone has your back at your job. This person is gonna be your rock. I am getting a more masculine energy but it doesn't have to be. This person could be your best friend or for some of you a potential love interest. Overall, I am seeing you shining brightly in your coming career.

Advice Cards:

Boldly imagine what you can do and be

You are ready to receive your fortune. Be miracle minded!

You are birthing a new self

Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspects of your life

The challenge is intended to promote your growth

Stand your ground

Get clear about your intention and hold firm

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4

Cards: Six of Pentacles rx, Three of Cups rx, The Empress, Page of Wands, Six of Swords, Ten of Pentacles, Nine of Pentacles, Five of Wands

Back of the deck: Knight of Wands

I see a lot of gain and possible loss for this pile. I am getting for some of you, you may have already achieved something really big in your career.I see this pile gaining the most financial abundance out of all the piles. It could be a family business that you may post about online and it becomes super successful. If you aren't in a family business it may be a good choice for you. Some of your careers may relate to food, more specifically deserts. I feel like you are about to make the most money you have ever made in your life. I feel like this success will come very quickly, almost overnight. This success will also help inspire to work even harder and make more. Now I am seeing there are either two scenarios for this pile. Some of you have had a lot of people practically spit on your hard work and are taking advantage of your talents. These people could be ex friends or for some of you extended family. These people are gonna be jealous and feel like they deserve credit for your hard work and imma say right now that these people are full of shit and don't deserve an ounce of credit. You may be trying to working independently and be your own boss. Then, there is another scenario where there are people in your life that helped you get to the success and wealth that you will receive and may not get some credit that they deserve. You might fight about this with these people and I am getting this person is in the right and is getting unfair payment. It is recommended to make things right with these people. For both scenarios, there is a strong possibility of people leaving your life after this success. But spirit is really saying for you to not let this stop you from enjoying your success and be proud of yourself for all of your achievements.

( a lot of these were pretty similar to other piles so if you felt called to any other piles please do read them )

Advice Cards:

You are healing at a cellular level

Set the conditions. You will succeed!

Weigh your situation carefully

It's time to realize the blueprint of your soul

It's time for appropriate action

Take good care of yourself, especially your heart

Channled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

#tarot reading #tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pac tarot #career reading #Spotify #tarot reader #spirituality #pick a card #pick a picture #career #career tarot #advice

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a-sky-full-of-ideas · 1 month ago

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My favourite jobs of MDZS characters in a modern AUs (that aren’t business men cause that’s too obvious) and why, in no specific order!

WWX

Graphic designer (XZ former job, freelancer)

Gardener (he loved it !!)

Athlete (all rounder)

Photographer, specifically landscape/storms or otherwise on site stuff (free/unbound)

Artist (freelancer and creative)

Flutist

Band member specifically bassist and lyricist

DJ (free)

Influencer (is he not basically that lol)

YouTuber

Journalist (he loves to annoy ppl and find things out that they’d rather not want)

Talk show host/interviewer

Stunt man (he loves the adrenaline)

Crazy scientist/engineer (achieve the impossible)

Basically anything that is full of freedom, where he can travel wherever, whenever he wants! Something unbound to a place and by his own rules.

LWJ

Vet (he loves those bunnies so much)

Classical musician

Music teacher (loves music/good with kids)

Fashion designer (have you seen his wardrobe)

Librarian/archivist (he likes order)

Judge on a music competition show (we know he loves to judge ppl but also bring out the best in them)

Influencer, doesn’t talk in his videos at all, just shows the skill, wether it’s cooking, martial arts or music

Journalist (helps ppl and cares for the uncomfortable truth, no qualms running to the end of the world for it)

Critic (wether it’s restaurants or movies, judgemental but eloquent and fair)

Anything traditional and well regarded but that is supporting one or more of his interests. Then again he can be a judgmental and rebellious.

Architect ( “rebuild the Yunmeng clan to its former glory” or sth. Also fashion for buildings but very logical, precise and pragmatic and mostly a highly regarded job)

Fashion designer (have you seen his wardrobe?!)

Lawyer (dude loves to argue and scare ppl but also cares for the right ppl to be punished aka 2in1 for him)

Meteorologist (who best to read the incoming storm but the storm himself ?)

YouTuber, specifically cooking channel “cooking with juijui” aka for JL

Gym teacher (we see him train his new disciples)

Swimmer (best swimmer of YM or what ? Drowns out his thoughts and focuses on his body which at least he knows)

Librarian/archivist (he likes order and is stuck in the past)

Dog trainer

Vet/animal shelter owner (he loves those dogs so much and if he can’t have them he’ll at least treat them)

For him I love the two extremes of either sth that his parents will highly approve of cause it gets them money and status or sth that is completely just for himself and his interests, be it animals or his nephew

LXC

music teacher ( loves music and good w/kids)

Art teacher ( can draw and good w/kids)

Librarian (quite life he craves )

Professor

Flutist

Classical musician (traditional)

Yoga teacher

Voice actor for self help books and stuff

Judge (fair but steadfast)

Museum director (traditional and honoring the past)

Born a teacher I believe. Patience of a saint, not condescending at all and skilled at everything he does. Doesn’t need the fame of being a pro.

Some obvious ones

Wen Qing = doctor

JYL = Cook (Restaurant or celebrity with talk show)

NHS = fashion designer

NMJ = personal trainer

Feel free to add!

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #jiang wanyin #lan xichen #wwx #lwj #wei wuxain #lan wangji #wen qing #Jiang yanli #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #Moder au #mdzs modern au #xicheng #wangxian

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shaadiwish · 1 year ago

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Check Out These Celeb-Approved Festive Looks To Take Inspiration From For Diwali 2023. Stay Tuned To ShaadiWish For Latest Trends And Ideas.

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ur-mag · 1 year ago

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Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor's Approval | In Trend Today

Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor’s Approval Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

View On WordPress

#Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor&039;s Approval #Celebrities #Money #Motors #Politics #ShowBiz #Sport #Tech #UK #US #World

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alpha-mag-media · 1 year ago

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Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor's Approval | In Trend Today

Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor’s Approval Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

View On WordPress

#Camel Coats Always Look Elevated—28 That Get This Fashion Editor&039;s Approval #Celebrities #Money #Motors #Politics #ShowBiz #Sport #Tech #Trends #UK #US #World

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 8 months ago

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Speaking of Lila, her lies really aren't as outlandish as people love to make out at least when you compare them the rest of the classes or just Marinette's

Alix, her father is a curator to the Louvre Museum aka one of the most well-known museums in France. She is also publicly known to be wielding a miraculous

Max not only has a mother that became an astronaut but developed an AI so good that a multi-million dollar company used it for their state-of-the-art prototype space jet which his mother is flying.

Adrien, was not only a supermodel but the son of a famous fashion designer

Rose, spend an entire day with a foreign Prince.

Chloe, the child of the at the time mayor but also the daughter of a famous fashion critic. Her father also runs a hotel that celebrities go to

Juleka, while she only found out about it recently she is the daughter of a world-famous rock star

Marinette, met several celebrities, designed a pair of sunglasses for Jagged Stone, designed a hat that Gabriel and Audrey approved of. her uncle is a world famous chef and her parents own a bakery so successful that they were the ones that the mayor not only hired to cater for his 20-year anniversary but given several episodes seems to regularly goes to.

I think Lila would have worked more if there weren't so many kids in the class with major connections, especially when Lila brings up people some of them know personally or have at least spent time with, like Jagged Stone or Prince Ali.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #lila rossi #jagged stone #prince ali

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lovelyarchive · 2 months ago

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platonic selfship ask game ¡

we all need to give some thought to our fictional besties sometimes ... questions can be directed at s/i's or f/o's ¡¡

[ 💢 ] — did you two get along right away , or did you have to work through some difficulties at first ¿

[ ⏰ ] — how long have you known each other ¿

[ 🍊 ] — what would they say your favorite snack is and vice versa ¿ do you surprise each other with comfort foods often ¿

[ 🧸 ] — what's the best way to cheer them up ¿

[ 🌻 ] — who is more introverted and who is the extrovert ¿

[ 💫 ] — do you have a crush on someone that they know about ¿ do they approve of the person ¿ would they rather offer genuine advice on how to pursue them or just tease you about it ¿

[ 👽 ] — how are they at co-op games ¿ are you both equally good or does one have to carry the other ¿

[ 🍾 ] — what's your favorite way to celebrate some big occasion ¿ are you guys the type to plan ahead or do you just do whatever you feel like ¿

[ 🫂 ] — have you ever met their parents/caretaker(s) ¿ how did it go ¿ do you think you've made/would make a good impression ¿

[ 🌐 ] — do you text each other often , or is there no need because you live in close proximity ¿ do they send you random posts that remind them of you or spam your messages just to be a menace ¿

[ 🧢 ] — what's the height difference between you two ¿

[ 🧿 ] — have you ever made kandis / friendship bracelets for each other ¿ do y'all wear any matching accessories in general ¿

[ 🌂 ] — do you share your stuff often (clothes , tools , food , etc.) ¿ do they grumble about it but begrudgingly agree or is it second nature to them at this point ¿

[ 🪀 ] — how are y'all at parallel play ¿ what's a hobby of yours that both of you like to dabble into ¿

[ 🧼 ] — who's more tidy and collected ¿

[ 🎀 ] — do you help each other out with picking outfits ¿ is your fashion sense similar or does it clash with theirs ¿

[ 🛼 ] — do you do any sports ¿ if so , have they been to your performances or big rehearsals to show support ¿

[ 💭 ] — alright enough wholesomeness , embarrass them NOW . tell a silly fact about them , or maybe even a funny story .

[ 💣 ] — is there something either of you does usually to annoy the other on purpose ¿

[ 🐈‍⬛ ] — what about pets ¿ who's the owner , what kind , have you met the critter(s) , do they like you ¿

#( gamechanger ) — ✦ ₊˚#may be a bit long whoopsies #selfship community #f/o community #fictional other #selfship #f/o positivity #platonic f/o #selfship ask meme #selfship ask game #f/o ask game #self insert ask game #f/o game

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midnightstay-blog · 9 months ago

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hi! about the prompt list, could you do 6, 21 and 38 for jackson wang? fluff or angst, it's up to you. thx

Sure here you go. 🙂 I hope you like it. I did more of a mix of fluff and angst but it’s mostly fluff. But I don't know if I like the ending. Anyways thanks for requesting.

Tw: mentions of blood and alcohol.

💫Rain & Wounds.💫( Requested)

Genre: Jackson Wang x reader

Theme : Friends to lovers

Summary: After an eventful night out with friends things between you and Jackson change forever.

Rating: Pg13

Word Total: 1,898

“Stop moving You’re making things worse for yourself.” You tell Jackson as you try to bandage his hand for the third time. You were out at a club when a guy started hitting on you. You tried to reject him, but he wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer. Soon it caught the attention of a slightly drunk Jackson and let’s just say things went left from there. The night didn’t start out with him getting in a fight the complete opposite actually. Originally you were supposed to be out celebrating after you got the news that Your book had become a New York times best seller. However, as the night went on the group of friends that y’all were with suggested going clubbing. Fast forward a few hours and now here you are at 3 am in the bathroom of your two-bedroom apartment with medical supplies and a drunk Jackson to look after.

“I’m fine really.” Jackson stated trying to move you out of his way.

“You are far from it actually. “You tell him while placing a hand on his chest and lightly pushing him back towards the counter. “Your hand has a huge gash on it and you’re bleeding on my floor.” You state in a matter-of-fact tone.

For as long as you’ve known him Jackson had always been protective of you. Though you mentioned on multiple occasions that you are in fact grown and can take care of yourself, part of him could never quite let you.

“Oh, please that guy had it coming.” Jackson exclaimed. Reaching into the first aid kit you grab an alcohol wipe in order to properly clean his wound. Noticing this Jackson quickly removes his hand from your grasp.

Letting out a sigh you grab his hand in an attempt to wipe the wound.

“Give me your hand I have to clean the gash. “Looking between you and the wipe he shakes his begins to shake his head making you roll your eyes.

“Jackson you’re a grown man you should be able to handle an alcohol wipe.” He goes to protest again but before he can you grab his hand wiping the blood from his palm. He winces at the alcohol begins to work its way through his hand. Shortly after you apply some antibiotic ointment. Eventually the room briefly falls silent as you begin to reach for the gauze and the non-stick pads. Pressing the pad into his hand he winces again as you finish up. Examining your handy work, you instruct him to remove himself from your counter while you clean up your mess. Agreeing he makes his way into the living room. Sometime later you emerge from the bathroom and make your way over to the kitchen. Going over to the fridge you pull out a bottle of wine that you had opened the previous night and set it on the counter before offering him some. With his approval you reach over to your glass cabinet and pull two glasses before joining him on the couch.

For a while you two talk about all different kinds of things from work to friends even his upcoming fashion line. After a while you even started to go down memory lane a bit. “Remember that time you took me to meet BamBam and Yugyeom and he spilled what was it.” You pause snapping your fingers as you recall the memory. “Um… Oh it was lemonade I think strawberry lemonade if I’m not mistaken.” He insists. “Yeah, that’s right because it was a big pitcher of it too.” You said laughing. “Yugyeom ended up knocking the pitcher over and breaking it because he was trying to impress one of the girls at the pool party with this one dance move.” Jackson laughed as he recalled the memory. “And then turns out she had a boyfriend the whole time.”” I felt so bad for him, but man was that funny.” You added. After a while you could feel a slight buzz from the wine starting to take over and for a second you contemplate calling it a night. However, the memory of how you met begins to creep into your mind and you begin to smile.

“What?” Jackson asks noticing the change in your features.

“Nothing I was just thinking about how we met and how lucky I am that we did.” You tell him.

“Oh, please if anything I’m the lucky one. “He tells you.

“How so?” you begin to inquire. Silence falls over you and for a moment you can hear rain begin to fall against your apartment window.

Jackson takes a deep breath before he begins.

“How can I not be?” he admits. “Your kind and you have a great personality.” “Also, you always look out for the people that you love and you’re there whenever I need you even if I don’t feel like I do.” “Not to mention you bake a mean birthday cake.” He says as he recalls the cake you baked him last year for his birthday. “And you always know what to say in times of crisis.” “You actually care about people not a lot of other people do that.” “Usually, it’s just an everyman for themselves type of deal.” Your smart and not to mention you are beautiful even when you don’t think so at times.” He adds. “So, believe me when I say that I am very lucky to have you as my friend.” He finishes. You sit there for a while touched at his beautiful words. “Jackson that was so beautiful thank you.” You say while pulling him in for a hug. You stay like that for a moment before you begin to pull away. Upon pulling away you both pause taking in each other briefly before sharing a kiss. Coming to terms with what is happening you both pull away before Jackson begins to speak once more.

“I love you.” he states. Though hearing it this time it sounds different. You take a moment to soak in his words letting them fully hit you. Soon after you clear your throat before getting up from the couch with you wine glass in hand.

“Your drunk “You exclaim waving your hand dismissively.

“So? “he says.

“So, you don’t mean that. “You say with a pause. “At least not in the way that you think you do.” You tell him.

He stands up from the couch and begins walking over to your kitchen island meeting you by it.

“I mean every word of what I just said to you otherwise I wouldn’t have said it.” He states sadness evident in his tone. Placing your glass in the sink you rinse it out before brushing past him and heading towards your hallway closet. Sometime later you re emerge with a blanket along with a few pillows and place them on the couch.

“It’s late you can sleep of the wine here you tell him as you begin to make up the couch.”

“Why don’t you believe me?” He questions. You stay silent for a bit before continuing. Walking over to you he places his hand over yours stopping you in your tracks.

It’s not that you don’t believe him. In fact, a part of you had always secretly hoped this day would come. You just wanted him to be sure this wasn’t one of those drunken confession things that he would regret later.

“Hey, talk to me what’s going on?” He questions placing his bandaged hand on your cheek. You lightly place a hand on his chest as you begin to softly push him away from you.

“Nothing.” You state placing your hands by your side. “I just- I just think that you should sleep off the wine and if you feel the same in the morning then we’ll talk about it.” You say giving a shrug. Not believing you but also not wanting to push the matter Jackson agrees. Not to long after you exchange goodnights before you make your way to your room and eventually fall asleep.

The next morning you are woken up by the smell of breakfast. For a moment you lay in bed confused before remembering the events of the previous night. Feeling somewhat embarrassed you crawl out of bed and make your way into the living room. There Jackson is stood at your stove making eggs. His shirt is missing but he’s still wearing his pants from the night before. Clearing your throat, you catch his attention before muttering a small “Good morning “and siting at the island. He response with a brief “Morning “before turning his attention back to the stove. “How is your hand? You inquire.

“It’s fine I changed the bandages already.” He states in a dryer tone. “Oh... okay.” And with that a brief and awkward silence befalls you both. Soon he joins you at the island and places your breakfast in front of you. Feeling the awkwardness cling in the air you contemplate addressing the conversation from the previous night. That is until he beats you to it.

“Look about last night.” He chimes. He tries to explain but you manage to cut him off.

“Don’t even worry about it we were both drunk and said/ did somethings that we probably didn’t mean so it’s fine.” You state hoping to save yourself from embarrassment.

“I meant everything I said to you last night.” He expresses. You sit there in a bit of shock. Noticing your state, he continues “When I’m with you it’s like seeing the sun after a week of rain.” “When I look at you, I forget how to speak.” “Often times I find myself saying something so embarrassingly stupid that I want to just evaporate into thin air.” I genuinely don’t know why my brain just goes blank when I look at you. I think I’m going crazy. “He states as if he just had an epiphany of sorts. Once he finishes, he looks over to you. For a while you just sit there looking at your plate of eggs while in deep though. If he really did love you, why did it take him so long to realize it? How long has he felt that way? Questions like this and more swirled in your mind however, in that moment the only thing you felt was happiness. A smile began to form on your features before you turned to him and gave a response. “I love you too.” You said slowly letting the words hit one by one.

“In all honesty I wanted to say it back when you said it last night, but I didn’t want this to be one of those drunken mistakes for either of us, so I waited.” You responded. “Really, I wanted to tell you ever since you showed up to my event last year, but I saw that really pretty girl with you and I chickened out at the last second. You say truthfully.

Your confession leaves him speechless for the first time since last night. Getting up from his seat he makes his way over to you. You take a moment to explain further. However, before you can he cuts you off with a kiss. This one is warmer than the last tender almost. In that moment all of your previous worries melt away leaving just you and him.

Request are open

#midnightstay blog #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fluff #jackson x reader #jackson wang imagines #jackson wang scenarios #jackson wang fanfic #got7 jackson #jackson wang #got7 #got7 x reader #got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #magic man

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