#THE WAY MY BRAIN EXPLODED WITH THIS INFORMATION | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neocitylights · 3 months ago

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SUMMARY: Giving in to your boss relentless matchmaking attempts, you’re not sure what to expect upon agreeing to finally meet her son, Donghyuck, at the company’s upcoming Halloween party. Unsure if you’re even ready for a relationship, you also might still be a little too caught up by Haechan, an insufferable but charming one-night fling that keeps asking you out despite your refusals. There’s one thing you’re sure about—life is a funny thing, but yours definitely feels like a cosmic joke sometimes. GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au, one night stand au, strangers to lovers WORD COUNT: 12k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes, implied sexual content

NOTES: Omg hi neocitylights second fic!! Please let me know what you think!! It’s gonna make my day!!

At first, it reads off as a simple, innocent email from your boss.

As you’d volunteered to help Mrs. Lee organize the company’s annual Halloween party, the first few paragraphs seem harmless enough—reading through the details of potential venues, catering options and decoration palettes selected by her, it truly is a simple, innocent email from your boss… until it isn’t.

Scanning the words for one last time, a sigh escapes from your lips as you hit her last lines.

Also, don’t forget that I can’t wait for you to finally meet my son at the party! I’m sure that he’ll be delighted to meet you.

You’ve been working for Mrs. Lee for a little over a year by now and for the best part of it, her persistent matchmaking attempts for her son, Donghyuck, have been targeting you. It’s become a running joke around the small office, especially since every other week Mrs. Lee makes it a point to note how ‘absolutely perfect’ her son would be for you, and how he ‘knows all about you already’.

Though you’ve always taken it with stride, laughing it off whenever she mentions him, Mrs. Lee never wavered from her scheme.

Besides the fact that Donghyuck is absolutely adored by his mother, you don’t know much about him other than his name and a few bits and pieces of information very purposefully provided by your boss.

Oh, he’s a very smart boy. Yes, Donghyuck is a little ambitious, you know. He’s been single for a while.

Admittedly, the idea of dating your boss’ son seems like a ticking bomb waiting to explode, but since Mrs. Lee is one of the sweetest people you’ve met in life, it’s only fair to at least assume that she’s raised a decent guy.

Now that the party’s coming up, there’s no real way out of it.

If you’re being honest, your love life has been a little lacking lately. Given work and your busy routine, there hasn’t been much time to think about anything but crossing off the next item of your daily to-do list. Apart from the monthly team meeting with your co-workers and an occasional dinner out with your roommate or uni friends, the most action you’ve gotten recently is Haechan’s casual, annoyingly charming texts.

It’s funny to think about it now—the guy was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a night to blow off some steam after a long week.

In a way, he still is.

You hadn’t expected much after exchanging numbers at the doorstep of his apartment the next morning.

Not being a stranger as to how one night stands work, you couldn’t help the surprise when his first text came through just a few hours later. Haechan still is a one-time thing, but he’d somehow turned out to be funny and entertaining enough to convince you to stay in touch with him despite the casualness of your encounter.

Toying with each other in a flirty, playful game, sometimes Haechan leaves you a little intrigued and maybe too willing for a second round… if only you didn’t have your work life to worry about, that is.

So for now, your work and love life are on completely separate tracks, even if Mrs. Lee’s been working a little too hard to blur the lines in between.

As you get home a few hours later than usual, brain scrambled in a mess of food menus and guest names, you give in to collapsing on the couch with Alia, who’s already halfway through a pint of ice cream and an episode of Sex Lives of College Girls.

“How was work?” Alia asks, a smirk creeping onto her face. “No offense, but you kinda look… rough.”

“No more than usual, I guess,” you sigh, side-eyeing your roommate for a second as you kick your heels off. “I mean, other than Mrs. Lee being over the moon that her son’s finally meeting me, it was just another day.”

Alia raises her eyebrows, a spoonful of ice cream hovering midway through her mouth. “Wait, is this really a thing? I thought you were joking whenever you mentioned her hyping up her son for you.”

“Donghyuck is very real, very single and apparently the perfect match for me.” You roll your eyes, a chuckle escaping from your lips. “He’s going to the party and she’s been mentioning it every single time she spots me around the office.”

“Damn,” Alia snorts, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she playfully nudges you. “Who would’ve thought you’d be your own boss’ daughter-in-law, huh?”

“Shut up,” you groan, cheeks instantly warming up at your roommate’s laugh. “I love Mrs. Lee to bits but I don’t even know the guy.”

“But you will,” Alia says, giving you a knowing look. “It could be fun, you know? Maybe he is all she’s made him up to be and he’ll be your soulmate or something.”

You sigh, offering a pat to your friend’s thigh with an amused smile growing on your lips. “You’ve been reading too much booktok literature, Alia.”

As she grins in return, little did you know how stupidly right your roommate’s next words were.

“And you’ll live one, trust me.”

The following weeks flew by, keeping you busy enough with last minute plan changes and impromptu hunts for a work function appropriate Halloween costume. Much to your concern and Alia’s amusement, Mrs. Lee’s enthusiasm over your potential meeting with her son didn’t falter, instead leaving all of your co-workers in a similar buzz as the party approached.

Now, as you adjust the pink vest of your Barbie costume under the orange lights currently decorating the venue, you can’t help but feel a little antsy.

Especially after Mrs. Lee’s voice cuts through the crowd when calling your name.

Bracing yourself, you turn to find your boss striding towards you with a very familiar, eager gleam in her eyes. “Oh, there you are! Come on, I want to introduce you to someone!”

Mrs. Lee—who’s adorably dressed as Princess Leia—takes your arm, walking you through the crowd with such firm steps that you’d think that she’s waited her entire life for this exact moment. As fast as she guides you, your boss quickly comes to a stop by a group of her personal guests, who greet both of you with amused smiles.

“Darling, he’s just over there speaking with a few family friends,” Mrs. Lee murmurs, her arm still intertwined with yours. “Go grab yourself a drink and I’ll bring him over in a moment, hm?”

“Sure thing,” you say, trying to sound casual enough to mask how dazed you are watching her disappear into the crowd again.

A glass of wine later, the knot of expectation still sits in your stomach as you wait for them at the bar. Your eyes have been discreetly drifting over the room, anxiously anticipating the whirlwind that your boss will probably create for Donghyuck as soon as you’re within their sight.

On top of the bar’s counter, your phone buzzes.

Haechan 9:34PM Tonight is the naughtiest night of the year Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to see me today

Reading the texts, you couldn’t help laughing at his cheekiness. Sometimes it feels like Haechan has a knack for knowing the exact, most inappropriate moment to make himself known. Being as insufferable as he is, it’s truly a wonder how the guy still manages to be so attractive even through texts that can rival a frat boy.

Momentarily ignoring your nerves, you start typing a quick response.

As you’re about to hit send, Mrs. Lee laugh hits your ears and you look up—

You blink, fingers hovering over the screen of your phone.

He’s standing right next to your boss, who has her arm around his and a smile as big as the sun on her face, clearly introducing him with an adoration you could feel from across the room.

He as in freaking Haechan, the guy you were just about to text and the guy you have been texting ever since a one-night at his place months ago. Haechan as in Mrs. Lee’s infamous, perfect for you, son.

Mrs. Lee finally catches your eyes, her face lighting up as she excitedly waves you over, the thrill of the moment thankfully leaving her oblivious to any signs of distress on your face. Heart drumming against your ears, you walk towards them with hesitant steps, still in disbelief over how absurd the entire situation is.

With a hand on your back, Mrs. Lee pulls you closer with an expression that can only be described as triumphant. “Oh darling, I’d like you to meet my son, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck finally turns to you, his eyes immediately flickering in recognition as he takes in your entire figure, from the stupid white cowboy hat on your head to the high-heeled pointed boots.

His face shifts, the brief flicker of surprise quickly getting replaced with amusement as he steps to stand by his mother’s side.

“So this is my Donghyuck, like I told you all about,” your boss continues, a hand on his shoulder as she tells him your name, positively beaming. “You two will get along wonderfully, I just know it.”

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Lee, Donghyuck is clearly suppressing his own reaction as extends a hand out, lips twitching and eyes alight with mischief upon you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he starts smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Mrs. Lee here.”

“Oh, likewise,” you respond, gaze narrowed as you take his hand in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Donghyuck.”

Despite the clear amusement on his face as you discreetly stress his apparent real name, Haechan still doesn’t seem to give any other reaction away to your boss. It’s infuriating how good he seems to be at… whatever ridiculous situation this is. Poor Mrs. Lee, still riding on the high of her most awaited matchmaking accomplishment, stays unaware of the simmering tension between you and her son.

“I’ll leave you two to know each other, then,” she says, offering a cute wink before swiftly disappearing into the crowd as she’s done all night.

As soon as his mother is out of earshot, Haechan drops the act, his face instantly breaking into a slow grin as he steps closer. “So my mom was right about knowing a girl who’s just perfect for me.”

“And of course that out of billions of people on this Earth, you’d be my boss’ son.” You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest as a scoff escapes from your lips. “Because this is exactly how insane my life actually is.”

Donghyuck just laughs, clearly enjoying the situation despite your indignation. “Well, this isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing you again but you don’t see me complaining, do you?”

At the implication of your first and last meeting, you can’t help taking a second to actually see him.

It actually hasn’t been long, so Haechan still looks pretty much the same… and maybe that’s the problem. The racer jacket he’s wearing as costume makes him look so effortlessly cool, suiting him in a way that feels almost too fitting. From the black hair, now purple tipped and perfectly styled, to the tan skin and endearing moles on his cheeks, you realize that you might’ve daydreamed about him more than you’d like to admit.

It’s only when Haechan clears his throat, looking nothing but pleased, that you snap out of your trance.

You feel warmth creeping up on your neck but refuse to give him the satisfaction, frowning at his smug expression. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re still just a random guy who’s been obnoxiously texting me weird stuff.”

“That’s mean, Barbie,” he teases, voice lowering just enough that only you can hear. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who gave me your number.”

“Because you asked,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t exactly plan on seeing you again.”

“Are you sure about that?” Haechan leans closer, the playful glint in his eyes growing stronger as he clicks his tongue. “Ah, it didn’t seem like it when you were begging—”

As your pulse quickens, body growing even warmer, you don’t think twice before impulsively covering his mouth with your hand. “I’m technically at work and your mother is my boss, so please shut your mouth.”

Haechan smiles against your palm, pressing his lips to your hand before you pull it away in panic, dreadfully searching the room for Mrs. Lee’s potential prying eyes. If you know your boss as well as you think, then you’d bet that she’s been watching every second of your interaction with her son with laser focus attention.

Quick to catch you, his grin only widens. “If you don’t want her to see then let’s get out of here.”

If you were to suddenly disappear with her son, Mrs. Lee sure wouldn’t mind.

Truthfully, you are ridiculously taken by the guy. After all, you have slept with him and it was one of the best nights you’d had in a long while. Haechan is witty, fun to talk to, and he doesn’t seem to hide who he really is. Unfortunately, he just also happens to be your boss’ son.

No matter how attractive and good at sex Haechan might be, you’re most definitely staying away from the ticking bomb.

You must stay away from the ticking bomb.

“Only in your dreams,” you finally retort, hoping that your face doesn’t expose your agitation as you finally turn around to leave.

Just as you move past him, Haechan leans over your shoulder, the whisper as loud as a scream to your ears.

“That’s exactly where I’ve been seeing you.”

You’d spent the rest of the party in a daze.

Trying your best to steer clear of both Mrs. Lee and her beloved son, you thoroughly focused on supervising every little corner of the venue. Maneuvering your way through the guests, you’d quietly made your escape a few hours later so nobody would notice your sudden absence.

If only Mrs. Lee hadn’t texted about your whereabouts halfway through your Uber ride, it’d have been a win.

Now finally at home, you barely step through the door before Alia appears from the kitchen, a mug in her hands as she snickers at your frazzled expression.

“I can’t tell if the party was a bust or not,” she says, taking a sip from her tea as she raises a curious eyebrow. “I’m scared of your answer but how was Mrs. Lee’s long-awaited party?”

Taking a few steps to slump onto the couch, you drop the cowboy hat and your bag to the floor, pressing a hand to your aching forehead as a sigh escapes from your mouth.

“The party itself was great, everything went according to the plan,” you start, pausing for a moment to brace yourself. “I also finally met Donghyuck.”

Alia’s eyes immediately light up with interest, fully invested in your ongoing drama. “The Donghyuck? Mrs. Lee’s son Donghyuck?”

You hum. As the exhaustion catches on, you can’t help a deadpan summary of your night. “You can also call him Haechan, I guess.”

Alia almost chokes on her tea, scrambling to put the mug down before she spills it rushing to sit beside you on the couch. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” she exclaims, eyes wide with disbelief. “Haechan as in that cute little guy you’ve been texting since that rooftop bar?”

“The one and only.” You sigh in exasperation, glaring at your friend as she suddenly bursts into a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re laughing. The universe is playing a cosmic sick joke on me and you’re laughing.”

“This is totally your booktok plot!” she beams, voice laced with amusement. “Turns out Mrs. Lee was right about you being perfect for her son.”

“Oh my God, don’t even start,” you groan, feeling your cheeks warm up for the millionth time of the day. “It was embarrassing. I had to pretend that we didn’t know each other while he was looking at me like this is the funniest thing in the world.”

“Are you for real?” Alia scoffs, frowning as if you’d grown two heads. “You were so into him that night. The fact that he has your number right now gives you away, girl.”

“I didn’t think I’d see him again,” you protest, still timid over the memory of your first meeting. “Besides, he’s my boss’ son, and—”

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, Haechan’s name bright and clear on the screen.

You hate his impeccable timing. You hate it so much.

Before you can even think, Alia quickly grabs the phone instead, mischief all over her face as she stands up to keep it away from you.

“I’m on my knees, Barbie—” She starts reading, comically pausing as she shoots you a wide-eyed look. “Oh my God, what the fuck—”

You sink further into the couch, feeling as if your body is ready to combust. “Stop it!”

“I’m on my knees, Barbie,” Alia repeats, purposefully highlighting every word as she continues with a grin curling on her lips. “Where am I taking you for our date? I’m free when you’re free.”

As your roommate drops the phone on your lap, you block the screen with a glare at her. “Don’t say a word.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours but this guy is down bad for you,” she points out, her face softening before she sits by your side again. “And you like him, so what’s up with the long face?”

There’s a brief pause in the conversation before you sigh, firmly shaking your head. “It’s too complicated,” you say, offering a meek shrug under Alia’s knowing eyes. “Plus, I really like my job. If anything happens, it might fuck things up, you know.”

Alia watches you for a second that feels way too long, then only nods in response with a quiet chuckle. “Alright. If you’re convinced.”

The thing is, you’re not convinced.

Something tells you that your friend knows that too.

It starts on a Monday after the fateful Halloween party.

Arriving at the office in the aftermath of your meeting with Haechan—or Donghyuck, as you know now—had your nerves hyping up the most dreadful scenarios that played in your head during the weekend.

While it’s true that Mrs. Lee is one of the kindest humans you’ve met, you’d be lying if her reaction to your interaction with her son didn’t worry you a little. Though she was none the wiser back at the party, you did wonder if Haechan actually told her anything or even if she noticed how absurd the conversation played out to be after the very polite introduction.

On top of that, you… kinda also left Haechan on read.

After an internal battle on whether you should simply reply and decline his invitation or downright just ignore him, you’d postponed an answer long enough to make it useless by now.

So it’s no wonder that you’re at the edge of your seat now, annoyingly aware of every person that passes by your little corner office, even after a few of your nosy co-workers stop by to ask if you really did meet Mrs. Lee’s handsome and smart son, Donghyuck.

Still, nothing could’ve prepared you to see Haechan in your office, leather jacket, black thick-rimmed glasses and a coffee tray in hand, entering the place as if he’s always been around.

“Good morning, Barbie,” he greets, flashing a cheeky smile at the apparent surprise on your face. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m just passing by to drop a little pick-me-up.”

Haechan hands one of the coffee cups and you cautiously accept with a sheepish nod, clearly taken aback by the gesture. “Thank you?”

As quick as he gets in, he’s immediately turning around to leave. You’re taking it as a secret to your grave, but you can’t help but feel a tip of disappointment as he walks to exit your office, though not without a last lingering glance over his shoulder.

You silently pray to every deity existent that Haechan doesn’t realize how feverish you suddenly feel.

Just before he leaves, a small laugh escapes from his lips as he shakes his head, an expression you can’t quite read on his face. “You’re really fucking cute, Barbie.”

On Wednesday, he does it again.

You’re conveniently on your way to drop a few documents for Mrs. Lee to sign when you catch sight of Haechan in the hallway, chatting animatedly with his mom as she’s returning from a business lunch with a few investors. It takes you a second to swiftly turn around, ready to rush back into your office when he spots you, calling out your name loud enough that half of the office must’ve heard.

“Finally a familiar face around here, huh?” He smiles, subtly taunting you despite the friendly facade. “You’ve got the best people working here, don’t you, Mrs. Lee?”

Mrs. Lee’s eyes immediately sparkled, glancing between the both of you with interest. “Oh, I certainly do.”

The interaction feels awfully similar to your meeting at the party. Standing beside your boss with the same mischievous gaze, Haechan’s eyes run through every little detail of your figure, visibly pleased with the turn of events.

“It's nice to see you again, Donghyuck,” you start, politely nodding at them as you hesitantly approach. “I’ve got some papers for you to sign, Mrs. Lee. I'll leave them on your desk, if you want?”

“No need, darling! Hand it over to Donghyuck, please,” your boss says, oblivious to your confusion if her grin is anything to go by.

Once with the folder in hands, Haechan flashes you a quick wink. “Thank you.”

You’re already racking your brain for a getaway excuse when Mrs. Lee huffs, playfully slapping her son’s arm. “You’re going to scare her away,” she chides, turning her attention to you as she sighs. “I know you’re always busy, darling, so we’ll let you go.”

“Right.” You smile tentatively, briefly clearing your throat. “Let me know if you need anything else, Mrs. Lee.”

Feeling his eyes on your back as you hurry back to the safety of your office, you secretly battle against a sudden need to reciprocate his attitude.

By Thursday, you’re kind of already expecting him.

Since his excuses have been a little too convenient to be coincidences, it doesn’t really surprise you to spot Haechan lingering around the office again, especially as he casually happens to bump into you at your lunchtime.

He manages to follow right behind you on the elevator, his cordial demeanor visibly shifting to the usual sassy one as soon as the doors close. With the thick-rimmed glasses and messy hair adding a nerdy touch to his confidence, you might have watched him a little more attentively today—at least, enough to notice that he’s wearing the same denim jacket from the night you met.

As he steps by your side, shoulders brushing against yours, Haechan sighs. “You haven’t told me where we’re going yet, Barbie,” he starts, a touch dramatic. “I’m in the mood for some sushi but I’ll go wherever you wanna go.”

You glance up at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Our date,” Haechan argues, clearly holding back a grin despite the deadpan tone lacing his voice. “You can pick the restaurant, I don’t mind.”

Feeling the proximity a little too much, his words send your brain into haywire. You’re still… very much aware of the unanswered texts on your phone, especially the most recent one sent just the night before.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again,” you lie, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible by rolling your eyes. “What brings you around this time?”

“I may or may not have left my laptop in Mrs. Lee’s office.” He shrugs, face breaking to a smirk. “Can you believe it? Good thing that I remembered about it.”

Taken by his casualness, you can’t hold back a chuckle. “Very convenient, if you ask me.”

“Are you implying something here, Barbie?” Haechan gasps, giving you a wide-eyed look as he leans over you. “I’m offended, you know. You make it sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation just to see you.”

You scoff, giving in to his attitude as a small smile breaks into your face. “That sounds unlikely.”

“Why didn’t you answer me last night, hm?” he mumbles, close enough that you can clearly see the little dots on his neck.

Your brain takes a turn at the sight, immediately betraying you with very vivid memories of your lips trailing through Haechan’s moles, all the way down to his chest—

The elevator’s chime saves you from a spiral.

As the smallest sigh leaves your mouth, Haechan’s question hangs in the air as you take a step back from him, now ready to hurry out of the cubicle. There’s a satisfied glint in his eyes, almost as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you, most definitely aware that he’s probably wearing you down.

Once the doors slide open, you’re quick to rush ahead of him, completely missing the weight of his gaze following you.

Almost as if to trick you, he makes a rather late appearance on Friday.

You spent most of the day sneaking glances around the office, frustration growing in your chest by each passing hour.

In a brief lapse of your sanity, you almost texted him during your lunch break, having briefly convinced yourself that it’d be mostly out of worry than anything else. Then, as Mrs. Lee bid you an early goodbye before leaving for one of her high-end club reunions, you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking about him.

Too focused on giving Yangyang a detailed explanation of his next errand, you don’t even notice when Haechan finally stops by your office, an entire box of your favorite bakery in hands as he waits for your attention.

As your intern recognizes him first, he briefly glances between you and Haechan with a knowing look before hurriedly making an escape with a lousy excuse.

“I think he knows something I don’t,” Haechan teases, casually taking your co-worker’s seat with a feigned innocent smile. “What’s up with the face, Barbie? Did you miss me?”

“You’re late,” you huff, a tip of irritation lacing your voice. “I thought you weren’t coming today.”

Faltering for a second as he processes your words, Haechan blinks in surprise. “Oh, you did miss me,” he says amusedly, leaning forward as his typical grin returns. “I bet you were waiting for me all day, weren’t you?”

Curiously pointing at the box to avoid the question, a smile slips through despite your efforts to keep it cool. “If this is not for me then you can leave right now.”

“I’m hurt you think I’d do this for anyone else but you.” He frowns, glaring at you in feigned offense. “You’re the only one for me, Barbie, you know that.”

You give him a playful eye roll, finally opening the lid to find an array of cupcakes that conveniently also happen to be your favorite flavors. “Who told you I liked these?” you ask, picking one up in delight. “I don’t think anyone here would know my usual bakery order.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Haechan scoffs, watching a little too attentively as you take a bite of a chocolate fudge cupcake. “I just happened to pass by this place and thought I could bring you a treat after a busy week.”

Raising an eyebrow, you pause in between a second bite. “The bakery is all the way across town.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he argues, a smirk soon growing on his face again. “We have more important things to discuss right now. How does tomorrow night sound for our date?”

“Tomorrow’s good,” you answer promptly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible waiting for his reaction.

With his usual confidence flickering to genuine surprise, Haechan stares at you for a moment, looking so stunned that you can’t help but find pleasure in finally catching him off guard. Reaching out for another cupcake, you swipe a finger at the strawberry frosting, bringing it to your mouth with a knowing smile at him.

Haechan just laughs, a hint of disbelief in his eyes as he closes them in feigned agony. “You’re really driving me crazy, Barbie.”

“If that’s all you came here for, you can go now.” You gesture towards the door, avoiding his gaze as you mindlessly shuffle through some papers on your desk. “I still have work to do and you already scared my intern away.”

“I love it when you’re mean to me,” he sighs, grinning at your exasperated scoff with a hand over his heart. “I’ll only leave because you can’t seem to concentrate if I’m around.”

Sneaking a glance at him as he stands up, you can’t suppress a small smile. “Thank you for the cupcakes.”

“Promise me you’ll reply when I text you later,” Haechan presses, his playful demeanor sobering just enough to feel distinctively stubborn. “If you don’t, I’ll keep calling you until you pick up.”

You feign a tired sigh, trying to play off your amusement. “I promise, Donghyuck.”

For a second, Haechan doesn’t move, still standing in front of your desk—and over you—as the cheeky glint returns to his eyes. “I love it when you say my name.”

The remark makes your chest tighten, heart speeding up because you know exactly what he means with that. Shaking your head, you shoo him away with a frown. “Just go already!”

Walking backwards towards the exit of your office, Haechan laughs, pausing just at the doorway to shoot you one last wink. “See you tomorrow, Barbie.”

Once he’s gone, you take a breath and reach out for another cupcake.

Yeah, apparently staying away from the ticking bomb doesn’t seem like a solid plan anymore, you guess.

Haechan’s restaurant choice isn’t what you expect for a first date.

Tucked deep into a quiet street, the hole-in-the-wall place is cozy and small enough to feel oddly intimate. There’s a nice handful of people around and as soon as you step in, a grandma quickly ushers you to a corner table, a glimmer of recognition taking over her eyes when Haechan greets her with a warm smile.

Wearing a black shirt that fits him ridiculously nice, you can’t help your gaze from lingering on his frame for a little longer than usual today.

As Haechan talks animatedly with the restaurant’s grandma, the only thing you can seem to focus on is the three little open buttons over his chest—

The click of his tongue calls your attention, your eyes finally meeting as Haechan leans closer to your ear, a cheeky grin tugging at his mouth. “I said you should introduce yourself, Barbie.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, offering the grandma a regretful look before you bow politely, giving her your name. “I’m… Donghyuck’s date. It’s nice to meet you, grandma.”

The older woman hums, a hand reaching for your chin while thoroughly regarding you with curious eyes. “She’s really pretty, oh my,” she mutters after a second, soon offering Haechan a pointed look with a smile on her face. “Alright, I believe you now, Haechannie.”

Confused by their interaction as she leaves, you can only obey her orders to sit down. When Haechan picks up the worn-out menu, you blink. “What… was that?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he says smoothly, shaking his head as he winks. “I’ve been here a lot, do you trust me to order for you?”

At your agreement, Haechan waves for a waiter, smartly starting to list a rather hefty order while you take a second look around the place.

Aesthetically speaking, the restaurant doesn’t feel very promising. Despite being obviously family-owned with a very homey vibe to it, it does look a little run down with the faded pictures on the walls, peeled painting and worn-out, outdated furniture. Still, given its location and appearance, it’s surprisingly pretty packed with all kinds of people—and you do spot a few couples here and there too.

Choosing to trust Haechan either way, you’re still intrigued about how he’s become a regular in a place so off-the-grid.

“You just listed half of the menu without a single look,” you start, staring at him with a funny look once the waiter leaves. “You really must come here a lot.”

“I’d say at least a couple of times a month,” he answers, resting his forearms on the small table as he leans forward. “This grandma’s kimchi stew really changed my life.”

Amused by the sincerity of his voice, you chuckle. “Is that why she seems to love you so much? She was so happy to see you.”

Haechan grins, shrugging casually. “I used to work around this neighborhood, so she’s known me for a long time,” he explains, eyes narrowing playfully as he notes the sudden change on your face. “What’s with the look, Barbie?”

You shake your head, resting your chin on a hand as you study him with newfound attentiveness. “I’m just realizing that I’ve heard a lot about you, but I don’t know what you do for a living.”

“Wow, I thought Mrs. Lee did a better job pitching me to you,” he says, feigning indignation as you roll your eyes. “I own a record label with my friends. It’s an independent thing and not super big but we’re really good, so…”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, most definitely not expecting such an unusual answer. “Oh, that’s… actually very cool,” you admit, leaning just a tiny bit forward with a curious smile at him. “Any artist that I might know?”

As a dramatic sigh escapes from his mouth, Haechan locks a steady gaze on you, his voice genuine despite a playful touch. “I sincerely hope not because if you know him then I don’t stand a single chance with you.”

You can’t help bursting into a laugh at how serious he looks, leaning back against your seat as you shoot him a look. “Aren’t we on a date?”

“We are.” He nods, a soft but unmistakable intensity flickering on his face. “This is probably a good time to let you know that I’m not giving up on this, alright? Now that you’re in, you can’t get out.”

Your lips twitch, a smirk soon tugging at the corner of your mouth. “That sounds terrifying,” you tease, amused. “I think I’ll take my chances this time, though.”

The food arrives just in time to interrupt him, though the smirk that grows on his face is enough of an answer to you.

As the waiter unloads a loaded tray onto your table, dishes looking as delicious as it smells, your excitement grows with the warmth that fills the space between you. Haechan is quick to reach around the plates once the waiter’s gone, relying on your vote of confidence as he places a few dishes for you.

“Alright,” he says, seemingly satisfied with the full table. “We’ve got this, Barbie.”

“I don’t think we do,” you counter, eyes taking one last curious glance around before focusing on him. “Which one should I go for first?”

“Is that even a question?” Haechan clicks his tongue, offering you a bowl of rice before pointing to the biggest pot on the table. “The kimchi stew, baby. Go ahead and take a few bites with the rice.”

Following his instructions, you don’t know if the heat spreading through your body is solely from the food’s spiciness, the casualness of his new nickname for you or the deliberate, effortless confidence laced to his rather gentle command.

With his expectant eyes watching for a reaction, you pause in between a second bite, grinning fondly at him. “Don’t look so worried, it’s really good.”

“You’re really a woman after my own heart,” he says, sounding as if he’d just had an epiphany. “Oh, my mom really knew what she was doing…”

“Considering we already knew each other, I think we can take the credit for this.” You shrug, feeling suddenly shy over the whole ordeal with Mrs. Lee. “Have you ever told her? That we’ve met before the party?”

“No, but I have a feeling that she knows. My mom always knows everything.” Haechan chuckles, eyes shining with mischief as he raises an eyebrow, leaning back on his seat. “Have you told her?”

“Are you kidding me?” you ask, voice dropping into a whisper as if the entire restaurant might overhear. “How am I supposed to tell my boss that I had a one night stand with her son without knowing it was actually her son?”

Giving a full laugh, there’s a hint of delight on his face as he smirks. “I mean, it was only a one night stand because you wanted it to be,” Haechan argues, a little too smug. “I have been trying, you know.”

“Let’s just not talk about that,” you cut off, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a flustered reaction as you chuckle nervously. “Since you already know what I do, you should tell me more about your label, please.”

Despite Haechan’s playful glare, making sure you know that he’s aware of your not-so-subtle deflection, the conversation quickly shifts to his job. Much like the night you first met at the bar, you’re completely entertained by his little anecdotes, taken by the humorous way he recounts his friendship stories and work mishaps with Mark, Johnny and Jaehyun.

It almost feels like he’s cracking the edges of your hesitance, his personality disarming you so easily that you can’t help but wonder why you’ve spent so much time keeping him at arm’s length—or if you ever did in the first place.

As the evening flies by, only leftovers forgotten around the table now, silence lulls between you for a moment.

Maybe you’re a little too aware of him, but noticing the sleeves of Haechan’s shirt starting to slide down his arms as he piles up a few empty bowls, you act before your brain can stop you.

“Wait,” you call softly, reaching out to hold his forearm. “Hold still for me?”

Haechan freezes mid-reach, something you can’t quite read in his eyes as he watches you push one sleeve back up, your fingers brushing against his skin by folding the fabric neatly into place. He willingly extends his arm when you move to the other sleeve, straightening it with the same care as you try to disregard his steady gaze locked on your figure.

When you let him go, Haechan slumps into his seat with a bemused chuckle. “You’re really making things harder for me, Barbie.”

As grandma’s loud and cheerful voice suddenly cuts through the restaurant, you’re saved by the bell seeing her approach your table, her face shifting to a frown as she looks between both of you. “Why did you eat so little?”

Though she doesn’t seem to notice the weirdly tense mood, your cheeks are still burning over his words as Haechan silently nods at you to lead the conversation.

“I ate quite a lot, grandma,” you start, reassuring her with a timid smile. “It was really, really delicious. The best food I’ve ever had.”

She coos at you for a second, quickly moving on to playfully swat Haechan’s shoulder with a glare. “Why did you take so long to bring your girlfriend here? That’s not something a nice boy like you should do.”

A grin takes over his face, Haechan giving you a knowing look before he nods eagerly at the older woman. “I promise to bring my girlfriend more often now, grandma.”

“You should leave if you’re done already,” she reprimands lightly, starting to set the empty dishes on a tray with a click of her tongue. “Don’t keep hogging my table like you always do with those friends of yours.”

After resisting your several attempts of help, the restaurant’s grandma soon walks you to the door, bidding goodbye with a kiss to both yours and Haechan’s cheeks as she makes him promise to come back soon again.

Stepping outside, the silence between you is filled with a strange mix of both ease and anticipation.

Save from a few partygoers coming and going, the street is mostly quiet, lights casting a warm glow around you despite the evening’s chill. With the realization that the night’s finally over, you aren’t quite sure what to expect of Haechan now—given that most of your interactions were built through a game of push-and-pull, it almost feels like you’ve reached the climax of a story that’s just started.

Completely unaware of your skepticism, he falls into step beside you with a dramatic sigh. “I think you should let me take you home.”

“You’re walking me to my car right now,” you say, rolling your eyes as an amused smile grows on your face. “I already told you a million times that I drove here.”

Haechan sighs again, his shoulders slumping for added effect. “Actually, I think you should take me to your home.”

You give him a look, ignoring the warmth spreading through your neck by feigning exasperation. “You also drove here, Donghyuck.”

“You’re really missing the big picture here, Barbie,” he groans, throwing his head back in feigned frustration. “Are you really going to reject me again? When are you going to stop pretending you don’t like me?”

As you shake your head, a smirk threatens to break your facade. “You said you like it when I’m mean to you.”

“I do,” Haechan says without missing a beat, sobering up to a serious expression despite the mischievous glint in his eyes. “I like it so much you can be the mean one this time.”

The implication behind his words make you pause for a second, feeling a little flustered despite the scoff that escapes from your mouth. “You’re unbelievable.”

Approaching your car soon enough, Haechan just watches as you unlock the doors and slide into the driver’s seat, quickly stepping forward to block you from closing yet. Looking up at him, you hope that the dim lights of the parking spot are enough to disguise your agitation.

With a hand on the roof of the car, he leans down just enough to meet your eyes. “Remember you promised to reply to my texts now,” Haechan insists, a smug smile growing on his face. “What’s gonna happen if you don’t reply?”

You give him a small, challenging grin. “You’re going to keep calling me until I pick up.”

“That’s right.” He nods, giving a satisfied chuckle. “You’ll let me know when you get home safe, won’t you?”

With a half-hearted snort, you nod back. “Yes, Donghyuck.”

Instead of answering, Haechan regards you for a second before extending a hand out, pushing the fallen strap of your top back in place with a feather-like touch to your upper arm.

As quick as it happens, he taps the roof of the car and closes the door for you, offering one last grin. “I’ll talk to you later, Barbie.”

Well, he did try to—which didn’t mean you let him.

At home, you reveled in watching Haechan’s name blowing up your phone, just for the sake of keeping him on his toes.

Barbie 10:44AM If you’re in a meeting then STOP texting me

Haechan grins at your message, his attention completely absorbed by his phone while Johnny and Mark debate something about winter releases in the back of his mind.

Gathered in Johnny’s office for a monthly meeting, the scene was familiar enough to allow him to zone out in your favor—while Mark was running his mouth away about a few potential songs, Johnny occasionally interjecting every now and then, Haechan quietly focused on pestering a few texts out of you.

In the following days of your date, he couldn’t seem to get enough of the familiar sharp, flirty back-and-forth between you, especially now knowing that you secretly enjoy it. So much that he takes a backseat in his friends’ conversation, unaware of his oldest friend’s reprimand until Mark waves a hand to his face, snapping his fingers as to pull him back to reality.

Haechan looks around Johnny’s office for a second, putting his phone down with a dismayed sigh. “I already said I’ll agree with whatever you guys decide.”

Mark and Johnny exchange amused looks, the latter raising an eyebrow at his friend with a mischievous chuckle. “Sure, so you do agree to leaving the higher percentage to Mark and I, right?”

At the youngest’s guilty grimace, Mark bursts a laugh before swatting his shoulder. “Dude, you’ve been grinning at your phone like an idiot for like, 30 minutes now,” he teases, a hint of confusion laced to his humorous tone. “You never shut up during our meetings, what’s going on?”

With a dramatic pause, Haechan looks between his two friends, a smirk soon growing on his face. “Alright, if you guys want to know so badly—”

Johnny snorts, immediately cutting him off with a playful look. “I didn’t ask anything.”

“If you guys want to know so badly,” he repeats pointedly, rolling his eyes at Johnny’s laugh. “You know that girl from the bar I’ve been talking to? Well, she’s the girl my mom tried to set me up with at the Halloween party.”

Haechan can’t help laughing at his friends’ reactions, both of them visibly puzzled by the half-assed burst of information. Johnny’s the one to break the silence first, an amused scoff escaping from his mouth.

“One of these days your mouth’s gonna get you in trouble,” he says, seemingly processing his friend’s words before leaning forward on his desk. “Let me see if I got this right—the girl from the bar is your mother’s employee… is that it?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, pausing for a second before his jaw drops. “Wait—what?”

“Ding ding ding! Points for Johnny!” Haechan jokes, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. “Turns out she works for my mom all this time and I just didn’t know.”

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head at the youngest’s antics. “You know what? That does sound like something that would only happen to you.”

“So basically, you’re telling us you hooked up with your mom’s employee?” Mark insists, a mix of amazement and shock on his face as Haechan proudly grins in response. “Man, that’s crazy. What are the odds?”

“How did she take it?” Johnny asks, narrowing his eyes. “Knowing you, I bet you were insufferable and freaked her out.”

Trying to play it cool with a nonchalant shrug, a very clear image of your Barbie dressed self pops in his mind as he chuckles. “I mean, she did pretend to not know me, but it was fun.”

The oldest hums, his curiosity peaked despite the careful approach. “So… what now? You guys are dating or what?”

Haechan falters, the smile on his face slipping for a second before catching himself. “We’re not dating… yet,” he admits, dragging out the words as if to make them believable. “We went on a date a few days ago but she’s still… a little skeptical, you know.”

Mark snorts, rolling his eyes. “Skeptical of you? What a surprise.”

“Shut up, she’s just figuring out if I’m serious or just messing around,” Haechan groans, shooting his friend a peeved look. “I mean, I’m obviously serious but she might think I’m just playing games or something.”

“She’s not wrong, though,” Johnny points, a teasing smirk on his face. “Again, if I know you, you are probably playing games.”

“Yeah, but not like that!” he whines, huffing loudly as he slumps against the chair. “This is just me being charming. There’s a difference.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, grimacing. “Is there, though?”

Haechan pauses, opening his mouth to reply but quickly closing it again as a comeback escapes him. For a brief moment, he feels and looks genuinely dumbfounded, which is definitely a rare and mildly entertaining sight for his two older friends. Though he’d never admit it, there’s no denying that Mark and Johnny planted a little seed of uncertainty in his head.

Crossing his arms, Johnny can’t help but laugh at his sullen expression. “Have we finally broken you?”

“No, you haven’t,” he fires back, voice remarkably resembling a bratty child. “I’m just… plotting.”

“Can I give you one last word of advice?” Johnny asks, toning the conversation down to a more serious note with a knowing glance at the youngest. “You should probably put yourself in her shoes. I know it must’ve been fun for you to find out who she is, but she does work for your mom. Do you get it?”

After a brief moment of silence between them, Mark lets out a low whistle, visibly impressed at the words. “Damn, that was a good thought.”

“Ugh, alright, I get it,” Haechan concedes, the corner of his mouth threatening a grin. “I’ll try to play it cool… for her.”

The conversation is cut short by the buzz of his phone against the desk, drawing everyone’s attention as it lights up with a familiar nickname.

Barbie 10:56AM I can’t believe you actually listened to what I said

Mark and Johnny exchange a second look watching Haechan’s grin widen, a look on his face that’s enough to tell them that he’s far from playing it cool like promised.

It just happens to be one of those weeks.

As you walk through the lobby, leaving the office much later than usual for a Friday, you feel your shoulders heavy with exhaustion. After days of nonstop meetings, tight deadlines and constant phone calls due to an unexpected slip of your co-workers, all you want is to go home, kick your heels off and forget about the existence of numbers and currencies for a while.

Still, despite how worn-out you feel, the sight of Haechan standing by his car just outside the building rises a hint of excitement in your chest.

With your surprise taken by anticipation—especially after the few days where your interaction had been limited to his insufferable messages—you can’t help but feel relieved to see him. Though there hadn’t been time for much else, you’d still caught yourself thinking about him more often than you cared to admit.

You’re also not admitting any time soon that Haechan’s the easiest, most fun part of your routine too.

In the stupor of your fatigue, you take in his fluffy brown jacket and the squared glasses on his face, making him look so warm and cuddly that you don’t even think twice before throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug.

Feeling Haechan’s confusion through his hesitation to hold you back, a sigh escapes from your mouth as you tighten the hold and bury your face against his neck, seemingly enough to tell him something.

“You’re being too nice to me, I’m worried,” he jokes lightheartedly, a contrast to his frown as he attempts a look at your face. “Come look at me, please?”

His hands are still running up and down your back in the gentle embrace as you glance up, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Haechan greets, his usual teasing tone softened with concern. “What’s wrong? I was expecting a long face and maybe an insult, not the best hug I’ve had in my entire life.”

“I’m just… really tired.” You chuckle humorlessly, too quiet. “This week was hell and my brain’s completely fried, I’m sorry.”

As his face shifts to something you can’t read, Haechan hums. “I was thinking about putting some food in you,” he starts, his hands moving to your arms almost soothingly. “But if you’re too tired, then I can take you ho—”

“No,” you interrupt right away, shaking your head as a familiar warmth heats your cheeks. “I’m starving and… I wanted to see you.”

He blinks, a slow grin growing on his face as he clutches his chest in the usual dramatic fashion. “The things I’d do for you, Barbie…” Haechan groans, back to his playful nature. “I know just the place. Do you trust me?”

You watch as he extends a hand, huffing a laugh before taking his hold. “Yeah.”

There’s something unexpectedly tender in the way Haechan takes the lead then, effortlessly building the conversation with a touch of softness you hadn’t witnessed before with him. Though the drive is fairly quick, his smart quips slipping every now and then to still tease you, the feeling that maybe this moment holds a whole different meaning to your heart doesn’t escape you.

The ramen stand is nestled just by the river, people scattered around under the yellow lights as the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses mingles with the faint rush of water nearby.

As both of you weave through the crowd, Haechan still holding tight to your hand as he leads the way, the air gets warmer enough to make you salivate at the lingering aroma of broth and grilled meat. With a perfect view of the river, he’s quick to spot an empty table, moving around before gesturing for you to take the stool first.

Eyeing the table for a second, you hesitate for a second before speaking up. “Can’t I sit beside you?”

Haechan pauses, still holding the stool as he glances up at you, his furrowed eyebrows instantly melting to a knowing smile. “You love me, don’t you?”

You scoff, brushing past him to take the seat with a grin betraying you. “Don’t bother, then.”

“No, no, no,” he counters, quickly sliding his own stool next to yours before dropping into the seat with a chuckle. “Are you kidding? Who am I to deny you something?”

As you pretend to ignore him, focusing on the vendor for the moment, Haechan doesn’t seem phased by it as he leans closer, sneaking glances at you while casually placing the order under another vote of confidence.

Once you’re alone again, he sighs with a feigned glare at your direction. “So… do I have to talk with Mrs. Lee for overworking you?”

You laugh, the sound coming off a little worn out despite your amusement. “It’s not your mother’s fault,” you reply, shaking your head with a deep breath. “I don’t think she even knows what happened. If she did, she’d definitely scold me for working so late.”

“As she should,” Haechan argues, eyes suddenly turning a little too serious. “If whatever’s happening is giving you too much trouble, you should tell her.”

Tilting your head as you lean forward, a smile tugs at your mouth. “Are you worried about me?”

“Yeah, actually,” he admits, grinning mischievously unlike his deadpan tone. “I am obsessed with you for a reason, after all.”

“You really are crazy,” you joke, not resisting a laugh as you quickly place a finger over his mouth just as he’s about to speak. “Please, don’t say you’re crazy for me.”

With a dramatic sigh, Haechan pulls back from you with a dirty look. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I know you’re not.” You smile, faltering for a second as the moment seems to suddenly shift with the softness laced to your voice. “I mean, I’m starting to believe you’re not. I… hope you’re not, so…”

A mix of emotions seem to flicker through his face at your words, enough to visibly leave Haechan a little floored while the vendor approaches with the food, the timing for an answer lost as the man places the steaming bowls of ramen and grilled skewers between you.

He clears his throat as the vendor leaves, shifting his attention to the food for a second. “Let’s make a bet,” Haechan suddenly starts, resting his elbows on the table as he leans forward. “This is going to be the best ramen you’ve ever had so you’ll let me take you as my plus one to my mom’s Holiday dinner.”

You frown confusedly at his impromptu offer, unsure if he’s actually serious about it. “What?”

“You heard me,” he counters, sounding firmer now as a mischievous smile brightens his face. “If this is the best ramen you’ve ever had, we’ll go to Mrs. Lee’s Holiday dinner together.”

If Mrs. Lee’s annual Halloween party is already highly anticipated by her employees and associates alike, you can safely say that Mrs. Lee’s annual Holiday dinner is an experience of its own. Having attended your first one the year before, just a few months after you’d been hired, it made you wonder if you’d actually last in the job.

First, because it officially marked the start of your boss’ matchmaking attempts—specifically after Haechan bailed on her at the last minute—and second, because it’s kind of… a big deal.

The Holiday dinner is quite fancy, packed with the corporate A-list Mrs. Lee works with.

So you can’t help but hesitate, raising a doubtful eyebrow at him. “That’s silly! Aren’t you going either way?”

Haechan clicks his tongue, voice flat as if he’s stating the obvious. “If it’s not with you, not really.”

“Well, considering you bailed last year, you should probably attend this one,” you argue, pursing your lips to hold back a smile. “Besides, what makes you think I wouldn’t lie just to get out of this?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Haechan grins, leaning closer with a challenging look at your direction. “If you truly want me at this boring dinner, you won’t lie.”

As you shake your head, a laugh escapes before you can stop it. “Are you really placing your cards on a bowl of ramen right now?”

“This is not just a bowl of ramen, Barbie,” he says, gesturing dramatically at the bowl. “It’s the bowl of ramen. You should’ve learned by now that I don’t mess around with good food.”

You pick up the chopsticks, the corner of your mouth twitching from holding back your amusement. “I’ll try it with one condition,” you offer, narrowing your eyes. “If I don’t like it, you owe me something.”

Haechan snorts, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Just name it and I’ll do it even if you like it.”

“I’ll tell you later,” you reply, pausing before you take a first bite, dragging the moment out just to spite him.

Even if you were a good liar, it most definitely wouldn’t be worth it—it almost feels like the taste explodes in your mouth and if Haechan’s reaction says anything, a smirk slowly growing on his face by each second, your expression is probably gives you away.

As he chuckles to himself, Haechan looks nothing but satisfied while stirring his own bowl. “I told you so, baby.”

The river’s gentle waves sound like background music as the conversation eases between you, the meal wrapping up in no time with Haechan feeding a few remaining pieces of meat to a curious kitty that sneaks around your feet under the table.

Taken by the warmth of a full stomach and the exhaustion of your hellish week, you scoot closer to him, enough to lean against Haechan’s side as your head falls on his shoulder.

Quick to welcome you, he wraps an arm around your back before pulling you even closer. “Tired?”

“A little,” you mumble, closing your eyes for a second before chuckling. “Can I ask you a stupid question?”

He nods, hands running up and down your back now. “Yeah, baby.”

“How come you’ve got two names?” you ask, giving him a funny look as he laughs. “I mean, if your real name is Donghyuck, where did Haechan come from?”

“When we started the label, I used to sing some of the guide tracks of our projects,” Haechan explains, smiling at the surprise on your face. “I didn’t want to use my real name if someone ended up using it, so I made one up.”

“It fits you,” you say, sighing as you close your eyes again. “I love your real name, too.”

Despite the small grin curling his lips, there’s a flicker of something more serious in Haechan’s eyes. “You love me too?”

Instead of indulging his teasing, you glance up at him with a knowing smile. “Thank you for tonight, Donghyuck,” you start, using his real name with a touch of softness that feels a little different. “I really needed this.”

Haechan regards you for a second, quietly watching for a second before he chuckles fondly. “Anytime, Barbie,” he murmurs, squeezing you against his side with a hum. “You know that, don’t you?”

As you look out at the river, cozy and warm in his hold as the yellow lights shimmer against the water, the answer comes as quickly as the waves crashing nearby.

You know now.

Barbie 9:26PM Are you busy?

9:26PM Look who it is Never busy for you What do I owe the pleasure baby

Barbie 9:27PM Hi Hyuck I hope I’m not interrupting anything

9:27PM I’m Hyuck now??? 😀

Barbie 9:27PM Don’t be insufferable about it I was just wondering if you’re free tomorrow night?

9:29PM Are you asking me on a date? Am I dreaming right now??

Barbie 9:29PM You should probably pinch yourself then Maybe you could come over for dinner? I’ll even cook for you this time

9:30PM You’re so lucky my schedule is clear baby I’m all yours if you want it

Barbie 9:30PM I do want it

9:30PM You do??

9:31PM I’ll call until you pick up Barbie

9:35PM You want me???

Outside your apartment, Haechan doesn’t realize how antsy he feels until the bottle of wine nearly slips from his fingers, fidgeting impatiently while waiting for you to open the door. With the faint sound of music slipping through, a song he doesn’t really recognize playing inside, the entire situation feels like a ridiculous, senseless fever dream.

At this point, he doesn’t know what to expect.

Thinking back from the first night you’d spent together to the absurd twist of events that followed at his mother’s Halloween party, he’s strangely unsure of… well, whatever today can possibly mean.

So much that Haechan swears his brain short-circuits as soon as the door opens—wearing a dress he’s very much familiar with, looking like the perfect picture of his wildest, most vivid memories, you smile knowingly at him, taking the surprise on his face with a hint of satisfaction.

“You must take pleasure in my suffering,” he starts solemnly, his dramatic sigh earning a laugh from you. “I’m having full flashbacks right now.”

Rolling your eyes, you step aside to let him in. “Good evening, Donghyuck.”

A few steps into your apartment, he looks over his shoulder as you follow him to the living room. “Are you trying to tell me something?” Haechan pauses, the question soon followed by a coy smile. “Baby, all you need to do is ask. I’ve told you—”

“Get your mind off the gutter,” you cut off, attempting to hide your amusement with a scoff. “I invited you for dinner, didn’t I?”

He chuckles, setting the wine bottle on the coffee table with a quick glance around your place. “You didn’t specify what kind of dinner, though.”

At the subtle suggestion in his voice, you shoot him a withering look. “The kind that involves food, Donghyuck,” you argue, a snicker escaping from your lips. “Unless you want to starve tonight, then I can—”

“Alright, alright,” Haechan interrupts, holding his hands up in surrender with a smirk. “I promise to behave from now on.”

You huff, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

While you head into the kitchen, Haechan lingers around your living room for a moment, taking in the little details of your apartment. From a collection of candles by the TV, packed bookshelves to an array of pictures on the walls, the small place feels very cozy, somehow so unmistakably you.

It’s only when he follows you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, that Haechan remembers your roommate—eyes immediately spotting a polaroid glued to the fridge, the image showing you in a birthday hat, squeezed in a hug between the girl and a lanky, tall guy.

He chuckles at the picture, your name paired with a + Alia & Jungwoo on the bottom. “Where’s your roommate, by the way?”

“She’s in Vegas with her boyfriend,” you explain, glancing over your shoulder with an amused laugh. “Apparently they got married by Elvis last night? They sent me pictures and everything.”

Haechan gapes for a second, a playful whistle following. “Damn, we’ll have to step up the game in our wedding, then.”

“I’d have to accept it first, which I’m not planning to do,” you snort, giving him a look. “Set the table for me, would you? The plates are in the cabinet on your right.”

As you finally sit down to eat, settled at the coffee table instead in a similar set-up to your ramen date, Haechan can’t help stealing a few glances at you. There’s something about the moment that feels too natural, an ease between you that sends his mind to places he still isn’t sure you’re at.

Watching you take a sip of the wine a little too attentively, a hum pleased hum escaping from your lips, the words slip before Haechan can stop them. “I told my mom that we already knew each other before the Halloween party.”

You choke with the wine, falling into a coughing fit as your eyes widen at him. “What? Why would you do that?”

“She’s known for a while,” Haechan continues, smiling lightly at your reaction. “Remember the day I started visiting the office to see you?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you scoff, somehow looking caught between confusion and shock. “It’s been like… almost a month by now. Are you telling me she’s known this entire time?”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his own glass. “You’re so clueless, Barbie,” Haechan teases, bumping his shoulder against yours. “I thought you’d notice the day you met both of us at the office. She wasn’t being very subtle about it.”

With a defeated groan, you shoot him a timid glance. “How much does she know?”

“Who do you think I am? I’m not disclosing my sex life to my mother,” he protests, frowning dreadfully as you burst into a laugh. “I only told her we met at a bar, exchanged numbers, and that we talked every once in a while.”

“She didn’t mention anything,” you start, looking a little apprehensive. “Like, she tried to set me up with you for so long. I would’ve thought she’d say something about it knowing that we… you know.”

“That might have been on me? I asked her to not say anything,” Haechan answers hesitantly, a half apologetic smile curling on his lips. “I didn’t want to put you in trouble at work because we had something going on—and I know you were a little hesitant because of it, so…”

You watch him for a brief second, long enough for his mind to overdrive. “We should eat before the food gets cold.”

Despite feeling completely enamored by your sudden little spiel, Haechan swallows a groan of frustration when you start listing the impromptu menu, the moment now broken as the conversation takes another route.

The food’s cleared when the mood subtly shifts again, half of the wine bottle gone while your playlist comes down to softer, slower songs.

As you shift closer to him, both still sitting on the floor of your living room, he can’t help but savor how shy you look. “So… how did you like it?”

Haechan tilts his head to take a better look at your face, his grin widening at your eye roll at his antics. “I was wondering if you’re open for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“It depends,” you answer, voice a tone cheekier despite how quiet it sounds. “I’ve got tomorrow off. Are you staying or leaving after breakfast?”

He exhales a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re driving me crazy for real, Barbie.”

On your knees, you move closer just enough to cup Haechan’s face, pressing a tentative, soft kiss to his lips. Taken by surprise, it takes a second for the pin to drop in his brain, warmth spreading through his body like wildfire as soon his arms close around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re settled on his lap.

As he leans into your touch, breaking the kiss with a sigh from you, Haechan can’t help a grin. Catching your breath with your forehead resting against his, you laugh at his dazed expression, pressing a smooch to his cheek.

With a blink, he groans playfully. “Oh, I’m definitely staying for breakfast now.”

You smile softly, shaking your head but not pulling away from him. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Haechan murmurs, hands brushing down your back as he tilts his head up, lips just barely touching yours. “Another one, please?”

Giving him another quick kiss, you smile against his mouth, lingering closer for a second. “I think Jungwoo’s got a few t-shirts here that should fit you.”

“You have another man’s clothes in your home?” he asks, feigning an irked frown as his head falls back in a dramatic fashion. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

Though the smile on your face gives you away, you still don’t resist rolling your eyes at his antics. “Are you done?”

Shaking his head, Haechan offers you his habitual grin. “I’m never done.”

When you don’t immediately respond, the silence shifts the atmosphere for a bit. Watching as your gaze softens, you take him by surprise brushing your fingers against his cheek, purposefully over the moles on his face.

Your voice is quieter now, almost warm with sincerity as you speak up. “Thank you for coming over, Hyuck.”

Trying to play it off as best as he can, heart pounding against his chest, Haechan chuckles fondly. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”

“I guess so.” You laugh, eyes sparkling at the unspoken promise. “You don’t seem too upset about it, though.”

As he tightens the hold around your frame, bringing you closer again, Haechan feels you relax into his embrace. The agreement settles between you as easily as the evening ends, his lips pressing a final kiss to your forehead without much words—just your shared understanding and quiet certainty.

“Can’t be upset when I’m exactly where I want to be, Barbie.”

The car rolls to a stop outside the beautifully decorated venue, Christmas lights casting a soft glow at the grand entrance of Mrs. Lee’s lavish Holiday dinner.

As he turns off the engine, Hyuck still seems a little taken by the vibrant pink of your gown, glancing over at you with a very familiar look.

“Once we walk through that door, it’s over for you,” he jokes, though a hint of something else betrays the playfulness of his voice. “Are you sure about this?”

Leaning over the console, you kiss him a little too forcefully, a sound of protest escaping from Haechan’s lips when you pull back. “I’m sure, Hyuckie,” you answer, giggling at the look on his face. “We should go before someone thinks we’re doing something in here.”

A grin takes over his face, looking a little too invested in your scenario. “Baby, that’s the greatest idea you’ve had—” Haechan stops himself at the slap on his arm, laughing as he unlocks the doors. “Alright, I got it, I’m sorry.”

Outside, he helps you adjust the straps at the back of your dress, pressing a last kiss to your shoulder before sliding his hand into yours. “Let’s go, Barbie.”

Together, you head towards whatever surprises the night might hold.

EXTRA: SCREENTIME

MASTERLIST

#lee haechan #haechan #lee haechan x reader #haechan x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #haechan fanfic #lee haechan fanfic #neocitylights

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sojumamii · 3 months ago

Text

༊*·˚puppy love༊*·˚

summary: a first grade mission goes awry when megumi gets hits by a curses' attack that....turned him into a puppy?! now you, your friends and gojo are tasked with turning him back before it's too late!

tags: megumi fushiguro x f! reader, established relationship in-universe setting, fluff, crack, slice of life. snippy clingy puppy megumi, gojo's grubby hands.

warnings: swearing. unedited.

pt.1 pt.2

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

stupid fucking curse

stupid fucking itadori

stupid fucking kugisaki

stupid fucking GOJO

are all the thoughts rapid cycling through megumi's brain as he watches the three pairs eyes looking down at him, their statures intimidatingly big and tall from where he stands on the floor. the room is now suddenly bigger than he remembers just five minutes ago, all he can see at eye level are the ankles of every single person on his current hit list.

"ah! what the hell happened to fushiguro?!" yuji yells in panic as he looks down at megumi in confused panic.

the immature snickering coming from gojo and nobara explodes into a burst of rambunctious laughter, nearly falling over as they choke on air.

gojo clutches his stomach as he points down at megumi, teasingly cooing,"wow megumi thanks for taking one for the team!" he crouches down to take a closer look at megumi's new...fluffy appearance.

in front of the trio is a small tiny fluffy ball of black fur, a tiny snout nose, and two wide dark navy eyes that contain the coldest glare a puppy can hold. the toy pomeranian is an exact canine counterpart to their beloved brooding friend and student.

"oh crap...how the hell are we gonna explain this one to (y/n)?!" Yuuji mutters in shock.

"oh my god, the curse got turned into one of those yappy little mutts oh this is gold!" nobara wipes a tear from her glittery brown eyes as her laughter begins to fade out.

megumi growls and barks as he rushes to nip gojo and nobara's legs in retaliation.

"agh! you bratty little rat! i'll knock you across the room with my hammer if you do that again" the auburn haired girl shrieks, gritting her teeth, matching the ferocious expression on puppy megumi's boxy little face

"aww! meguuuuuumi you're just the cutest little thing c'mere!~" gojo coos mischievously as he reaches down for the poofy puppy

megumi yaps, running away from gojo's chasing hands, running through yuji's legs and circling around them in increasing panic and speed as gojo chuckles devilishly.

yuji grows dizzy following megumi's movements, he sighs to himself as he focuses on his movements before darting his hands out and snatching megumi away. megumi gives fight and thrashes in his arms growling before his new little body grows limp, his pink tongue hanging out his mouth as he pants in exhaustion.

yuji coos and scratches the top of his head,"alright you gotta calm down now fushiguro." he says as he strokes megumi's soft fur

megumi huffs as if saying,'how can you expect me to be calm?!'

gojo chuckles before picking up his phone to dial ijichi,"we should head back to the school, we'll take him to shoko to get him checked out, and in the meantime i'll see if yaga or nanami can find out any information about that curse," he says walking over to yuji and bending forward to be face to face with his now-canine student.

"and oh by the way," he looks up to yuuji's hazel eyes,"i won't be the one explaining to our sweet little angel what happened to her boyfriend, i'm sure you guys got that covered," he smirks before reaching a sneaky hand to scratch megumi's ears, earning him a growl and snap of megumi's teeth. he quickly retracts his hand,"okay okay geez..."

megumi sighs in his head, mentally wondering how you're doing as today was your long overdue and well deserved day off from missions. he wonders if you're having a better day either doing nothing or cleaning your dorm like said you would

he lets out a groan that in his new form comes out as a sad little puppy whimper when he thinks about how the hell is he gonna explain this new predicament to you...and if he can ever break the curse....

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Ahh~ it's so clean in here finally!" you happily sigh to yourself taking in the sight of your now neat and tidy dorm room, having been a tornado of clothes, books, and empty beverage bottles due to back to back missions and the never ending cycle of classes. the soft sounds of your favorite music plays in the background and the cozy warmth of the fairy lights adds a more relaxed welcoming atmosphere to your room.

rarely do you ever spend time in here even on your days off or after said missions and classes.

opting to give into megumi's not-so subtle ways of you making you sleep and stay in his own dorm room, which he's progressively losing good excuses just making random nonsense that makes you laugh and wonder why your pretty boy keeps trying to make up excuses when you'd never say no.

'don't you just prefer the direct my room faces? the sun isn't blinding you first thing in the morning?' (you have curtains)

'my water pressure is better' (the dormitories at jujutsu tech have the same exact showers)

your delicate face unconsciously smiles brightly at the thought of your stoic little lover boy, you fondly stare the photo of the two of you on your most recent date at a bookstore-coffee shop that had just opened.(well it was supposed to be a date but yuji and nobara crashed it)

you clip it onto the wall above your desk, adorned with string lights along with other photos of megumi and yourself, and many with yuji, nobara, and gojo...and a cute one you goaded nanami into.

looking at the photo it reminds you that your friends and teacher should in fact be back soon...and that you actually haven't heard from megumi since he texted you that he got to the mission sight. you can't help but to worry but as if right on cue there's a knock on your door.

you squeal beaming with excitement as you skip to open the door

only to reveal

nothing?

huh?!

you look out left right frantically and confused as to who was just at your door.

did you miss megumi that badly you imagined he knocked?

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a little bark, surprised you look around for the source of the sound until you hear it again.

you look down and see a fluffy ball of black fur, wagging it's tail and running in tiny circles and yipping for your attention.

you coo and crouch down to scoop up the palm sized creature,"hey little guy, whatcha doin out here?"

it responds excitedly jumping into your hands and sniffing and licking your face affectionately. you giggle and pull it away from your face,"alright alright i get it you're cute but where'd you come from?" you ask as if it can respond.

when you stare at it face to face for a few seconds...the dog feels familiar...in a weird way, even the way it's eyes stare back at you feels almost human...

you did love to joke that if megumi had a dog form it would not be like the beautiful wolfy appearance of his divine dogs, but the form of a snappy little pomeranian with his hair and sassy attitude. it almost feels like divine intervention that a yippy pomeranian showed up at your door when you started miss and worry about your boyfriend. was this little guy a gift? no, megumi said his shikigami were the closest things to pets you could have....or maybe this is one the staffs' pet? or maybe just a stray...?

then you start to think a little too hard...

bringing the puppy that's still happily wagging it's tail in your hands up to your face you let out a sigh,"You know you kind of remind me of my boyfriend, he's got hair and lashes just like you-no.no.no. it can't be?" you shake your head in disbelief there's no way this dog is megumi fushiguro himself. the dogs yips as if it to say yes.

'it is me damn it!' megumi thinks to himself as he huffs in your arms, he feels a little off balance as you stand up with him and listens to you mutter different possibilities to yourself.

you perk up and gasp when you realize something off about it and bring the puppy back up to your face to interrogate megumi some more.

"hey! you have cursed energy! are you someone's shikigami? is this how they're getting rid of me?" you step out into the hallway, your senses on high alert but there's no sign of a curse user anywhere.

you gasp again- that's megumi's cursed energy signature.

"oh my god-! gumi?!" you ask incredulously, raising him up in the air in front of you. he huffs in confirmation, his little body having grown tired from his efforts of trying to communicate. man being in such a small body is tiring...

"ah crap she figured it out!" you hear yuuji's panicked voice say from behind you.

"damn it...we're really in for it now!" nobara cuts in like clockwork.

you slowly turn around, staring at them in wide eyed disbelief,"what the hell happened out there? how did megumi get like this?" you're asking but there's a snippy essence in your tone that feels like you're being rhetorical. like you're scolding all three of them (mostly nobara and yuuji, you feel bad scolding megumi right now, I mean, look at that little face)

you hug megumi to your chest, stroking his fur comfortingly,"aw my poor gumi, don't worry we'll figure out how to change you back," you smile reassuringly,"if it's any consolation you're even cuter as a puppy..."

he grunts and petulantly tucks himself into your neck, his wet nose pressed your warm skin he seeks your scent and presence. he lets out a soft huff once he gets comfortable, his little body now limp and relaxed as he succumbs to slumber in your arms.

your heart squeezes in both fondness and worry. this whole situation while unexpected and slightly worrisome, is rather comedic. much to his dismay, a snippy little pomeranian is what you often compare him to, and now like a metaphorical prophecy: he is one.

you look at the disaster twins, remarking their nervous smiles you playfully roll your eyes and chuckle,”look lets get him to shoko, you’ll explain everything there.” you direct them both, leading the way to the infirmary. after a minute you halt your steps, sharply turning to your classmates,”wait a second,” you look around,”where the hell is gojo?”

yuji and nobara avoid your eyes stupidly whistling and kicking rocks, wincing when you growl and stomp angrily toward the infirmary.

“stupid white haired bastard good for nothing guardian blindfolded idiot…” you grumble angrily.

the disaster twins sigh, also cursing gojo for leaving them to deal with your reaction to megumi’s predicament. they follow after you, heads down like scolded toddlers.

“not fair that fushiguro gets to be cute and nap…” yuji whines

nobara nods,” y’know i used to wonder how fushiguro bagged someone as good and pretty as (y/n) of all people…but after seeing her temper…they’re made for each other.

though you’re ahead of them, your heightened senses allow you to hear nobara’s words, filling you with warmth and a soft smile gracing your delciate features as you look down at the sleeping puppy in your arms, kissing the top of his head.

“she’s right gumi…we really are. you'll be back before you know it."

to be continued….

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

RAAAAH second (and last.) fic of 2024 and it’s a series! First fic was published on here back at the end of May which is crazy that much time has passed since then! “always a brat” was a spur of the moment drabble and I had no idea it was going to get the love and traction it did, which I am grateful for and very touched! thank you to everyone who supported it, and I hope you like this new installment!

Happy New Year! May you have an even better 2025!

-v

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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jillgirlfriends · 5 months ago

Text

Is my girl upset with me?

you are offended by them, and they are trying to make amends to you

pairing: billy loomis, jill roberts, charlie walker, ethan landry x fem!reader

warnin: offended!reader there may be something obscene, murder, some naughty

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ BILLY LOOMIS

you are so tired of your fights with him. billy was a wonderful boyfriend, you loved him very much.. with all your heart, but you are very annoyed that lately he just leaves you in the middle of your date with him. this is already the fifth time in a week, you finally could not stand it, splashed out all your emotions on your boyfriend and you both quarreled, because of which you became even more offended at him and decided to ignore

If only you knew that your boyfriend is actually a murderer and leaves your dates because of the stupidity of his idiot partner. but billy won't be able to admit it to you.

when he is completely calm, he will follow you around all the time trying to get your attention.

billy will always pay attention to you and show you his rare tender side that only you know about. he wants to spend all his time with you, but he can't because of his.. affairs.

billy will pull you to himself, hugging your waist and saying tender and sincere compliments kissing your neck. and in the end, you will forgive him.. because you can't be offended by your beloved boyfriend for so long. especially being offended by such a hot guy is a crime

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ JILL ROBERTS

it's all that damn trevor's fault. he deliberately want broke you up with your girlfriend by telling you all sorts of nonsense right in front of jill. he said that she was a very possessive and toxic person and that you should break up with her. you were already very tired after school that day and you just didn't understand what was going on and... you believed that idiot and ran away without saying anything, unable to handle it all. your brain just didn't work because of all the fatigue. fucking trevor wanted to ruin jill's relationship with you in this way because jill broke up with him

jill was so furious, she just froze and glared at trevor with the darkest, most gloomy gaze, thinking about how she would finish him. her hands clenched into fists and her eyes seemed to turn black.

oh.. trevor doesn't realize how much danger he's in when he calls jill

first, jill will come to her senses and calm down properly and will think over her plan in her room, and walk back and forth like an embittered paranoid. now on her mind:

1 ruin trevor's life and kill him for good

2 get her lovely girlfriend back

jill single-handedly sent information about trevor throughout the school and even made everyone think that he was the real ghostface.

she invited trevor to her house when her mother was away, jill made trevor think that she wanted to get their relationship back.. but it was not so. she killed him, and then wounded herself on purpose so that everyone would think that he broke into her house and tried to kill her, but she was able to fight him off and as a result, jill achieved two main goals at once. killing trevor. check. becoming famous. check. she was that fake final girl.

you yourself immediately rushed to the hospital to your girlfriend, completely forgetting about the quarrel, and pounced on jill with strong hugs. you were so worried about her.

thus, jill was able to make peace with you and achieve her goals, because she doesn't trust anyone alone

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CHARLIE WALKER

kirby. that name alone makes you so mad. kirby started flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you, and charlie.. he was so slow and didn't know what to do, he didn't reject her at all. of course he didn't let her do physical things to him.. but, he responded to her compliments and then you just exploded. 4 years. 4 fucking years, she ignored him and when he started dating you, she immediately started paying attention to him? what the hell. you got so mad and then yelled at charlie, giving him a choice.

«me or kirby, the choice is yours» - the last thing you said to your boyfriend and walked past him, brushing against his shoulder. before that, charlie felt your anger..

charlie was confused and he was... honestly, even scared. he didn't want to lose you. that day when you poured out all your anger on him, he was in a strong panic and even cried at night, not knowing what to do.

the guy himself doesn't know why he let kirby flirt with him, maybe because he liked all this attention? or he still hasn't fallen out of love with her? no.. no, he has you.

as a result, charlie, out of despair and not knowing what to do... took a knife and put on that same robe and suit and went to the kirby house. he realized that you are more important to him and he loves only you.

the next day, the guy apologized to you. he was ready to kneel in front of you or even kiss your feet, just so that you would forgive him. you forgave him and apologized for your anger at him, and after that you both shared a tender kiss with each other

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ETHAN LANDRY

ethan honestly.. was such a slowpoke in the relationship, you understand that he is just shy and all that.. but, damn. when you want to hug him or kiss him, he always gets embarrassed and "pushes" you away, the most you always do.. is hold hands, yes, you understand that he needs time.. but, damn. it's been 3 months since your relationship! you just started to get irritated by all this, ethan was such a sissy that you just didn't want to see him or talk to him.

you ignored him and when ethan wanted to take your hand as always, you walked past him and didn't even look at him, completely ignoring him

ethan felt hurt that you ignored him, but... he couldn't find the courage to talk to you about it, so he followed you around like a kitten.

he tried for a long time to understand why you were offended by him, he asked his child for help and even asked him for advice, to which he received the answer: "I don't know, dude" and ethan was in despair and walked sadly around you for days

as a result, with the chad's help, ethan plucked up courage and apologized to you. you in turn, naturally forgave him because you missed him and it was painful for you to look at his sad face and without his asking pulled him to you for a kiss, to which he was surprised but timidly reciprocated the kiss

#scream #scream 4 #scream vi #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #jill roberts #jill roberts x reader #jill roberts smut #charlie walker #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker smut #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 9 days ago

Note

I'm watching you answer all those people in your inbox telling their horror stories about people misusing things like personality tests and I'm internally screaming. Are reliability and validity just...foreign concepts to these people?

For the uninitiated, a test should do two things: measure what it is trying to measure (validity) & measure that Thing the same way consistently (reliability). The consistent measuring isn't usually the problem; defining what you're trying to measure - especially if that Thing is an abstract concept, like 'personality' - is the more wonky of the two.

The SAT is a great example. The SAT is not an intelligence test (my brain exploded hearing a mom tell me that once); it is supposed to measure a student's 'readiness for college.' That's why it's called the Scholastic Aptitude/Assessment Test. You can maybe understand why an arbitrary number, maxing at 1600, is um. Not the Best for measuring that particular Thing, especially since being 'ready' for college involves a lot more than just what base level education you start with. IQ tests are a little better, but we have at least nine different types of 'intelligence' that have been delineated and so it highly depends on what 'type' of intelligence one is trying to measure.

Does the MBTI actually measure psychological or personality types? Have we even delineated those terms well enough to say? This is why there are so many criticisms of the MBTI to start with, to say nothing of the numerous other personality tests out there. The MBTI is only the most popular one! Are we using the Five Factor Model or not?

Biological determinism (I think? That's the closest I can come to what this is anyway) is a disease infecting these people's ability to use any form of common sense.

the thing is that everything you said is true and correct but unfortunately to answer your initial question: yes, reliability and validity are foreign concepts to most people. the average person takin the MBTI or cliftonstrengths or whatever have absolutely no concept of what's being measured or how; they're just told that they're going to receive information about themselves and don't really question how it works further than that because they trust that there must be Some reason the test is so widely used.

which, you know, there is a reason, but it's capitalist devilry more than any validity of the tests themselves.

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valeisaslut · 1 month ago

Text

Undercover desire Pt.2 - mdni (+18)

clic to read pt.1!

⚢ pairing: Secret agent!Ellie Williams x Secret agent!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: You and Ellie were here to complete the job—not to get tangled up in each other. But after barely managing to escape, the tension ignites into something far more dangerous. The real threat isn’t the mission anymore… it’s what happens if you give in. Either way, it’s going to explode. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 5.7k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: enemies tu lovers, smut!!, dom!Ellie, sub/switch!reader, scissoring, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), cum eating, hair pulling, pet names, VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LMAO, lots of cursing, blood, bombs, use of firearms, violence, helicopter?? . MINORS AND MEN DNI!!! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ Heyyyy! Sorry to keep ya'll waiting but pt.2 is here and is here for GOOD, i got a little excited with the plot and felt i was in a movie, so sorry if it a little very unrealistic. English isn't my first language, so if there's some misspelling or writing mistakes I will be happy to receive constructive criticism <3 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The narrow hallway led to a larger room, dimly lit by a soft emergency light. The walls were lined with metal panels, covered in pinned-up documents, while monitors flickered with data in Russian. In the center, a table overflowed with files.

Your heart pounded.

This is it.

This was the information you had been chasing. The secret experiment that justified every bullet dodged, every high-speed chase, and every dangerously close call with Ellie. This was the mission’s objective.

You rushed forward, grabbing one of the files just as she did the same on the other side of the table. The words Проект кордицепс (Project Cordyceps) were printed on the first page.

"This is even bigger than we thought" you murmured, flipping through the documents.

“Since when do you speak Russian?” Ellie asked, watching you read through the files with ease.

“Looks like someone didn't finish reading my file and skipped the mandatory Russian course.”

“Sorry, know-it-all. I just kept reading until the part where it said your specialty was firearms.” She said, but now looking up at you with a serious expression. “...So, what is it about?”

“Bioweapon experiments with something called Cordyceps. Looks like they’re testing this kind of fungus on human subjects, and it causes them brain infection." you said grimly. "This isn’t just research… it’s fucking extermination."

A noise in the hallway made you freeze. They were footsteps, and they were coming towards you quickly. You locked eyes with Ellie, and just as you turned to the exit, the door bursted open. In seconds, she grabbed the documents and stuffed them inside her jacket.

Before you could react, a guard stormed in, gun raised. A shot rang out.

But it wasn’t aimed at either of you.

The bullet struck a security pipe above your heads, releasing an unknown gas into the room.

Your lungs burned instantly. With blurry, stinging eyes, you barely managed to see that the only exit was blocked. No time. No options. The gas overwhelmed you in seconds, dragging you under. The last thing you heard was the dull thud of your own body collapsing on the floor.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your consciousness returned in waves, like a distant echo filtering through the pain and confusion. Your head throbbed with a dull, pounding buzz, and when you tried to move, a harsh tug at your wrists made you groan. Tied.

The material was thick, rough against your skin. Rope or some kind of industrial binding—tight enough to cut off your circulation if you struggled too hard. Your wrists were secured firmly to a pipe along the wall.

You opened your eyes, quickly scanning the room. A single flickering light in the corner barely illuminated the space. The concrete walls were bare except for a single metal door. No furniture, no windows, nothing that hinted an easy escape.

Great. You ended up in a damn makeshift cell.

The cold from the floor seeped through your clothes, but then you noticed a warm pressure against your back. A musky forest-like scent seeped into your nose, surrounding you.

Ellie.

As if this couldn’t get any worse.

Your breathing was shallow as you tried to ignore the way your legs were tangled with hers, the way your heartbeat—fast, intense—drummed against your chest.

"Look who finally decided to wake up." Ellie's voice was a rough whisper, hoarse from dryness.

Even tied up in a cell, with her wrists bound, she still manages to sound smug.

You clicked your tongue, the metallic taste of blood lingering on your lips.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." you muttered.

You tried moving your arms, but the rope only tightened against your skin. Worse, it pulled you even closer to Ellie.

"Stop moving." she grumbled, barely hiding her exasperation.

"Stop breathing in my ear" you shot back, feeling heat creeping up your neck.

"Kinda hard when you’re practically on top of me." There was an unmistakable hint of amusement in her voice, which only made your irritation spike.

"This is so stupid." you sighed.

After a few minutes of silence in which you continued trying to think of every single way to escape, you heard her teasing voice again.

"You know," Ellie mused, her soft laugh vibrating against your chest. "When I imagined you being tied up with me, I didn't exactly imagine it like this."

A smirk curled on her lips. "But hey, I’ll take what I can get."

"Can you stop being annoying for just one damn second?" you hissed in a low, threatening whisper, tugging hard against the rope.

Yours and Ellie's wrists were bound separately, and that didn’t make things any easier. You tried pulling once again, but all it did was tangle your legs with hers even more.

"Yep, that’s not getting you anywhere." she said, obvious amusement in her tone.

You shot her a glare.

"Got any better ideas, genius?"

She leaned in just enough for her lips to graze the edge of your jaw. A shiver ran down your spine.

"You sure you wanna hear 'em?" she murmured, her warm breath ghosting over your skin.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you, racing under her touch. You knew exactly what she was doing—getting a kick out of watching you lose control. Like always.

The door creaked open, halting whatever the hell was going on between you two. Heavy boots echoed against the concrete, followed by a second pair—lighter, but just as menacing.

The first man to step inside was tall, dressed in a black jacket buttoned up to his neck, a thin scar cutting across his left cheek. His sharp, dark eyes swept over you both with the cold precision of a predator sizing up its prey.

The other man, shorter but with the rigid stance of a trained soldier, lingered near the door, a gun resting against his thigh.

The taller stopped barely a foot away, his presence dominating the room with an eerie kind of calm—more unsettling than any threat or outburst could ever be.

"Two foreign spies in my base? Now that’s unexpected." he muttered, his deep voice laced with sarcasm and a thick Russian accent.

Your jaw tightened. You tried shifting forward, but the rope bit into your wrists.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

The man let out a dry, humorless chuckle, like he’d just heard the worst joke of his life.

"I'm curious..." he said, crouching slightly and resting his hands on his knees as he studied you both with the slow amusement of someone who enjoyed crushing things under his boot.

"What is so interesting about our project that you both walked straight into your own deaths?"

Your mind raced, searching for an escape, a distraction—anything that could give you an advantage. Before you could come up with a response, Ellie spoke in that deadly, indifferent tone of hers.

"If we told you, you’d have to kill us."

The leader’s dark eyes settled on Ellie, a slow, twisted smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah… such a mouthy little bitch. Don’t get your hopes up—I’m going to kill you both anyway."

The air in the cell grew even heavier, thick with the weight of his threat. The flickering light above casted long, trembling shadows on the concrete walls, twisting his silhouette into something monstrous-like.

Ellie sighed, tilting her head like she was about to yawn.

"What a pity. I was hoping you’d at least offer us something more interesting."

"There is no deal. You rats stepped into the wrong place. And now, you pay the price." His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Tell me—who sent you? Who else knows you're here?"

You rolled your eyes.

"You really think we’re gonna tell you?"

The man sighed, straightening up as he gave a small nod to one of the guards. The soldier obeyed, pulling a knife from his belt and stepping forward.

"I wanted to do this the easy way... but you didn't give me much of a choice."

Ellie glanced at you from the corner of her eye, something dangerous sparking behind her gaze. Then, she smirked. A small, deliberate gesture. She gave you a subtle nod, waiting for your signal.

Without hesitation, you nodded back.

Screw the "trust no one" rule.

In a blur, Ellie lurched forward. The movement almost looked choreographed—she caught the knife between her boots before the guard even had a chance to react, locking the blade between her feet with lethal precision.

"What the—?!"

The scream barely left his lips before Ellie twisted sharply, driving the knife deep into the man's flesh. A howl of pain filled the cell as he stumbled back, clutching his wounded leg, blood spilling onto the concrete.

She used the chaos to her advantage, yanking the rope she was tied up with brutal force. It snapped, finally freeing her. With animal precision, she slammed her forehead against the leader’s face in a vicious headbutt. A sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by a muffled grunt.

In less than two minutes, she had taken them both down.

And you thought she couldn't get more attractive.

"You still got the files?" you panted. There was no way you were leaving empty-handed.

Ellie sliced the last of the rope on her wrists, then slipped a hand into the inner pocket of her jacket with infuriating calm. She pulled out just the corner of the gray file, smirking at your expression.

"Those idiots were dumb enough not to check me properly." Her voice was mocking, but her eyes gleamed with sharp satisfaction.

After a few seconds under her piercing gaze, your expression shifted to a clear Well? What are you waiting for?. It was obvious—you expected her next move to be untying you.

"You know…" she murmured suddenly, mischief curling at the edge of her lips, "You look pretty good all tied up. Maybe I should just leave you like this."

You rolled your eyes.

"No time for jokes, Williams. Cut them. Now."

Ellie tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a half-smile.

"I love it when you get all bossy."

With a quick flick of the knife, she sliced through the ropes in one smooth motion and helped you get back to your feet.

The wounded guard had just enough strength left to throw a clumsy punch in your direction, but you were already waiting for it. You dodged easily, shifting to the side before driving your elbow straight into his jaw. Out cold in one strike. Without hesitation, you grabbed the gun from his belt and leveled it at him.

"Damn, princess." Ellie muttered, genuinely impressed.

The wounded leader managed to get back to his feet, blood dripping from his nose, but his expression remained eerily composed. Then, without a word, he reached out and slammed his palm against a button on the wall before you could stop him.

The deafening blare of an alarm tore through the air like a blade. In the distance, the echo of hurried footsteps pounded through the hallways.

Reinforcements. You cursed under your breath.

“Fuck! we need to get out of here!”

“Yeah, and fast.” Ellie replied, starting to run with you.

The lights flickered violently, casting erratic flashes against the concrete walls as you sprinted at full speed. Behind you, the shouts of injured guards mixed with the thunder of boots closing in. The blaring alarms drowned out everything else, turning your escape into an unbearable countdown.

“Ellie, the door!” you shouted, pointing at the hatch at the end of the hallway.

She didn’t hesitate, bolting towards the exit. You pushed yourself to follow, but not before raising the gun and firing straight at the control panel on the wall. Sparks erupted in a bright burst before everything plunged into complete obscurity.

The darkness was your salvation.

Chaos turned into confusion. Amidst the yelling and stomping of boots, you both ran blindly, guided only by instinct. The emergency doors bursted open with a loud clang, and a rush of freezing air slammed against your faces.

And then, you saw it. The heliport, glowing under the blinking tower lights. And more soldiers waiting for you.

Ellie skidded to a stop, panting.

“Tell me you’ve got a plan.”

You grinned.

“It really shows you didn’t finish reading my file.”

Reaching into your jacket, you pulled out a small metal cylinder. One last explosive. Without a second thought, you hurled it straight at a fuel tank.

A sharp whistle. A flicker of fire.

And then—the explosion.

Flames roared in a blinding flash, consuming the platform in a wild dance of destruction. The shockwave rocked the ground beneath you, and the screams of soldiers were drowned out by the deafening blast.

But there was no time to worry about the damage. You grabbed Ellie by the wrist and shoved her towards the helicopter waiting at the edge, it's engine roaring defiantly against the chaos.

“Get in!”

Ellie moved quickly to the control panel, starting to pilot with remarkable expertise. The helicopter lurched into the air, wobbling like a wounded animal before steadying. Below, the enemy base shrank into a mess of lights and tiny silhouettes, their shouts drowned out by the deafening whirl of the rotors.

The helicopter managed to elevate high enough to start the getaway, speeding as fast as posible away from the base. Taking a deep breath, you slumped back against the seat, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

But the victory only lasted a few minutes.

A gunshot slammed into the side of the chopper, metal groaning under the impact. The entire structure shuddered violently.

“Shit!” Ellie cursed, gripping the controls as the helicopter rocked dangerously. "They hit us!"

Another shot. A deafening bang.

An after that, the sickening feeling of freefall.

The alarms shrieked in a piercing wail as the tail rotor burst into a storm of sparks and fire. The horizon tilted, the world spinning into a blur of flashing lights and black smoke. The helicopter spiraled out of control, a flaming projectile plummeting toward nothingness.

Gravity yanked at you both like an impatient executioner.

Ellie snapped her head towards you, her mind quickly flashing the only possible way of surviving.

“There's parachutes!” she barked, yanking hers from under the seat and tossing you another one without hesitation.

Flames clawed through the cabin, devouring every last breath of oxygen.

“Move!” you growled, fighting against the wind as you made you way to the open door.

With trembling hands, you strapped on the parachute, the searing heat creeping up your back. Ellie was already at the edge, short hair whipping wildly, her lips curling into that adrenaline-fueled smirk as she briefly winked at you.

“See you down there.”

And she jumped.

There was no more time to think.

You sucked in a breath and jumped after her, just as the helicopter erupted into an inferno of fire and twisted metal.

The shockwave hit you like a punch, sending you spinning wildly through the void. The roar of the explosion faded behind you, replaced by the deafening buzzing of the wind tearing your ears. The night stretched below—an endless, dark smear of unknown terrain.

A few hundred meters from the ground, you yanked the parachute cord. A violent jolt ripping through your body as the canopy snapped open, slowing your descent in an abrupt, stomach-turning tug. The air rushed past you, the world tilting as you spiraled downward.

Somewhere in the shadows under you, Ellie was falling too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hit the snow with a heavy thud, the impact rattling through your entire body. A shiver ran down your spine as the freezing air bit through your soaked clothes. You sucked in a sharp breath, trying to calm the adrenaline still surging through your veins.

You were alive.

A few meters away, you saw Ellie under the faint glow of the moon. She unfastened her parachute with precise movements, her boots sinking into the snow as she pushed herself up. With an annoyed grunt, she brushed the snow off her pants.

"I’m never getting in a chopper with you again." she muttered, not even bothering to look at you.

"Oh thank you, I’m glad you’re alive too." You rolled your eyes, fingers numb as you struggled with your harness. "Where the hell are we?"

Ellie glanced up, scanning the landscape with a serious expression. Despite the darkness, the silhouette of distant mountains loomed against the cloudy sky, surrounded by an endless stretch of snow covered pines. No signs of civilization. No lights. No roads.

"Screwed." she declared, hands shoved into her pockets like she had seen worse.

You sighed, rubbing your arms in a useless attempt to warm up.

"We have to find shelter before we freeze out here."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After what felt like hours trudging through the snow, you both stumbled upon an abandoned cabin on the edge of the forest. The place was barely standing—shattered windows, a sagging roof—but the walls were intact, and there was enough scattered wood inside to build a decent fire.

The flames casted a flickering orange glow, sending shadows dancing across the worn out wooden walls. As the fire grew, the warmth slowly eased the tension in your muscles.

"We don’t have enough supplies, but we should stay here for the night." Ellie murmured, her voice low beneath the crackling fire. "In the morning, we’ll look for signal and call the agency for rescue."

"Sounds like a plan." you said, letting silence settle between you.

Then, her voice cut through it.

"C'mere."

You eyed her warily.

"Why?"

"You're freezing." She shrugged, her expression unreadable, patting the floor beside her like she didn’t care whether you accepted or not.

You hesitated. But in the end, you moved closer.

The heat of her body was immediate, wrapping around you. As soon as you sat beside her, Ellie draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in until there was barely any space left between you.

"Don’t get any ideas" you muttered, but the frantic beat of your heart betrayed you.

Ellie let out a low, lazy chuckle.

"Too late"

The air between you shifted. It wasn’t just the cold, or the exhaustion, or the comforting warmth of the fire. It was something else. Something dense, something dangerous.

Ellie turned her head just slightly, close enough to study you up close, her green eyes tracing your features in silence. When her gaze lingered on your lips, the air suddenly felt heavier.

Your breaths mingled in the sliver of space between you. The fire crackled, casting golden light across her freckled skin.

How can someone look this damn good after nearly dying fifty times?

"You're still shaking."

Ellie’s voice was a low whisper, rough around the edges, laced with something that felt like a challenge.

"It’s the cold."

Not even you believed that.

She smirked, that infuriating curve of her lips that somehow made you want to strangle her and kiss her at the same time.

"Liar." she murmured, her gaze not wavering in the slightest.

Then, without warning, her fingers brushed against your cheek, agonizingly slow. At first, her touch was cold, but as her fingertips traced the line of your jaw, her skin grew warm against yours. Every movement was deliberate, as if she was committing every inch of your face to memory.

"I can think 'bout other ways to warm me up tho." you murmured, voice laced with defiance.

Ellie’s eyes darkened, her brow lifting ever so slightly before she moved.

"Oh yeah?" her low voice vibrated against your skin.

Before you could react, she had you pinned against the wooden floor, effortlessly trapping you beneath her. Her fingers ghosted over the fabric of your shirt, tracing a slow, deliberate path to your waist.

Your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of her jacket, trailing along her back. Without realizing it, you’d drawn her even closer. Too close.

Your internal thoughts started shouting you to stop this. That it was highly prohibited.

You are an agent. She's an agent. You are obliged to be strictly coworkers through the entire mission. Nothing more.

"This is against the rules, Ellie..." you whispered against her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath mix with yours. "The agency doesn’t allow—"

"Fuck the agency."

Not even a second after saying that, she closed the mere inches of distance between you.

The world shrank to the feeling of her mouth on yours. There was no rush in her kiss—just a slow-burning intensity, a calculated game where every movement seemed to study you, test you. A declaration of war and surrender all at once.

You stopped caring at all. The inner thoughts suddenly ceased and faded away like they never existed.

Your hands slid down her back as you melted into the kiss, feeling her tense muscles beneath the fabric of her clothes. You sighed into her mouth, fingers gripping her jacket and taking it off without hesitation, pulling her down until she got fully on top of you.

Tilting your head slightly, you caught her lower lip between your teeth, biting down with teasing softness.

Ellie let out a low, dark laugh—almost predatory.

"You’re a damn problem, you know that?" she murmured against your neck, her voice deeper than usual, laced with that mix of amusement and danger that drove you insane.

"And you're an even bigger one." you shot back, a smirk tugging at your lips before kissing her again. You both knew you were crossing a line that had been threatening to break for far too long.

It had already been broken.

Now, all that was left was to enjoy it for as long as you could.

Her lips left yours only to travel along your jaw, trailing downwards with a softness that made you hold your breath—like she was claiming every inch of you without even taking your clothes off.

Your hands moved desperately along her back, taking off her shirt until it hit the floor with a dull thud. You couldn't help the soft gasp that left your lips when you saw her naked chest– freckled, pale, and absolutely breathtaking.

Ellie’s hand shamelessly slipped under your shirt, her cold fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, moving agonizingly slow before gripping your waist with enough force to make you arch into her. Her other hand found your thigh, gripping it firmly as she shifted to wrap your legs around her hips.

"You’re way more fun when you’re not fighting back." She muttered against your skin.

"Shut up."

"Make me." she challenged with a fiery look before biting down and sucking the curve of your neck.

Before you could respond, she lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You couldn’t have cared less where it landed. A slow, deep sigh escaped her lips as her gaze roamed over your bare torso, lingering on the thin barrier of your red bra.

Her hand slid went slowly down your back, already working to take off your bra as well. She lifted her gaze, silently asking for permission. The moment she caught your slight nod she unclasped it in one swift, fluid motion. The garment slid down your shoulders, and you moved your arms to let it fall completely.

"You’re fucking perfect." She bit her lip in anticipation before lowering her mouth back to you.

Her lips latched onto your breasts immediately, her tongue circling one of your hardened nipples slowly. With your hand tangled in her hair, you pulled at it roughly, making her groan against your skin.

While her mouth stayed busy, her hands slipped inside your pants, forcing your legs to part even wider for her. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a gasp when her fingers brushed against your clit through your panties.

As her lips moved back up to meet your pulse point, a broken moan escaped your lips as she sucked harshly on the sensitive skin in a way that made you shiver.

"No marks…" you murmured shakily, feeling Ellie huff against your neck in annoyance.

Logic spoke for you in that moment, but if you'd listened to your desires, you would’ve let her mark your neck with hickeys until it was completely purple.

"Why not?" She pressed another hot kiss against your pulse. She almost sounded like a pouty kid being told she couldn’t have what she wanted.

"Isn’t it obvious?" you whispered. "I can’t just walk into the office covered in hickeys right after a mission with you. It would give us away."

"Jesus, just let go for once…" she murmured, brushing her nose against yours. "Stop worrying so much, those dumbasses won't even notice."

Any response died on your tongue when Ellie kissed you with a burning intensity, the pressure of her lips turning into slow, teasing strokes of her tongue against yours. Her knee slipped between your thighs. You gasped, and she only deepened the kiss, as if she’d been craving this for years.

And before you could notice, her hand pinned your wrists above your head.

"Now, you gonna stop telling me what to do?"

The sound of your zipper opening made your breath hitch. Your back arched, and partly to give her more access, partly because this felt so damn good that you needed more. More of this, more of her.

And when Ellie yanked your pants off and tossed them aside without even glancing at them, a wave of heat shot straight through you.

The look in her eyes was completely predatory.

You were wearing red lace panties, and they matched the bra.

And only now you realized how obvious you must look.

"Ah… you knew this was gonna happen" Ellie accuses, taking them off quickly and giving your wrists a slight squeeze. "Fantasizing about your mission partner, huh? Such a dirty little thing..."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one here that has." you said, fighting back, but not denying it. There was no point in doing so.

She released your wrists and grabbed a fistful of your hair in her hand, tilting your face up to meet hers and giving it a slight pull.

"On that we agree…" she says in a husky voice.

"' 'Cause you don't know how much I fantasized 'bout fucking you, beautiful."

Jesus. fucking. CHRIST.

You let out a shuddering gasp as a shiver went through you like thunder, and the ache in your core became even more unbearable.

"Be a darling and spread your legs." She says as she releases your hair. You comply without complaint, your thighs spreading quickly.

"Atta girl... just like that..."

You don't have to see Ellie's face to feel the smug pride radiating from her as she sees how wet you are.

"Fuck, baby... you're soaked..." She says lowly as presses her finger on your swollen clit, delighting at the strangled gasp you let out.

Her gaze intertwines with yours, and in just a second, she slips two of her fingers inside you, causing you to let out a loud surprised gasp. She starts slowly, but before a few moments she increases the speed.

"Oh God! Ells-" you moan as she bends her fingers upwards to reach that sweet spot inside you that dissolves you in pure pleasure.

She moves her mouth down your body, leaving a wet path in her wake until she stops between your legs. She kisses your inner thighs teasingly, and when you let out a needy moan, her lips wrap around your aching bud and suck. Her tongue caresses your sensitive nerves as her fingers continue ravishing you.

You let out a squeal of pleasure, immediately covering your mouth with one hand to muffle the high-pitched noises. Ellie doesn't cease her relentless stimulation, and it is not long before you bite down on your palm, coming undone around her fingers.

She helps you through it, letting your hips buck against her mouth as your orgasm courses through your body, before gently withdrawing her fingers. Trembling, you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Ellie, with a dark look in her eyes, watches you from between your thighs. Her lips curl into that arrogant fucking smirk that you want to punch out of her face and drives you insane at the same time.

She lifted her fingers, glistening with your arousal, and slowly slipped them into her mouth. Your lips parted as you watched her through your lashes, your eyes dark with lust.

"You taste so goddamn good..." She murmured lowly. Her gaze didn't drift once from your eyes as she sucked every drop, leaving them completely clean.

You could come again right now just because of that.

"This doesn't end here, doll" Ellie murmurs as she moves up your body again to kiss you. You moaned against her lips when you savored your own taste in the kiss.

"I never said I wanted that..." You whisper against her lips, reaching up to pull her hips down to meet yours.

Ellie hisses, moving to remove her pants and grey boxers before pressing her soaking wet center against yours. She moaned as her clit made contact with yours and it wasn't more than a minute before she pressed herself against you and began to grind her hips.

"Fuck, Ellie!" you moaned, closing your eyes in pure ecstasy, the sensation of your center grinding against hers and your clits clashing together making your eyes roll back. It was so good you felt like you were losing your mind.

Nothing mattered anymore. Fuck the agency. Fuck the rescue. Fuck the whole thing.

You wanted to stay inside that haze of pleasure for the rest of your life if possible, here, tangled up with her.

Next to the same infuriating agent you couldn't stand from the start, but now had you right where she wanted—legs open and moaning like her bitch.

The twists and turns of life.

"Shit, shit, please Ellie… I'm gonna…”

You moaned as you pulled away a little to catch your breath. You both were a panting mess, grinding against each other harder and harder.

"Let go f'me…. I'm 'bout to cum too… "

You moved your hips against Ellie, both movements losing rhythm and becoming erratic. The knot in your stomach tightened, and in less than a second, everything went white around you as you let out a strangled moan.

She let out a choked gasp and squinted her eyes tightly, being completely washed over by the orgasm and burying her face in your neck. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, grabbing you before you fell to the ground and hurt yourself.

"Shhh… I've got you…"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Several minutes later, the fire was slowly dying down, leaving the cabin wrapped in a warm dimness. Your breathing was still uneven, but the silence between you remained thick— and neither of you dared to break it.

Ellie still hadn't moved away completely. Her fingers lingered on your skin, tracing lazy patterns along your waist, as if her body refused to accept that the moment was over.

“That was…” You tried to say something, but the words died in your throat.

You felt the cold creeping back in, dragging reality along with it.

“Don’t overthink it. Just go to sleep” Ellie cut in. Her expression was serious, but her eyes were a whole different story, a glisten in them that you never saw before.

She pulled away slowly, but not entirely. Like a part of her didn’t want to. Like she wanted to stay right there, where the warmth was still bearable and the distance minimum.

But in the end, she did. She rolled onto her side, her back facing you, her body stiff, tense.

The cabin fell into complete silence, except for the occasional crackling of the fire. The air was still heavy, thick, as if the moment hadn't really ended.

Ellie turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her expression neutral. You kept staring at her, and the way her chest rose and fell a little too quickly gave her away.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?”

She let out a quiet, amused laugh, still not looking at you.

“I don't know. Maybe I’ll stay up until you say you regret it.”

“And what if I don’t regret it?”

This time, she did turn her head. Her eyes studied you in the dim light, as if trying to figure out if you were serious. Then, in a quiet murmur, she spoke again.

“Then we’re screwed.”

“Yeah. We definitely are.”

Ellie smiled. Just a small curve of her lips, but a smile nonetheless. She didn’t say anything else, just shifted and reached out for you. She slipped her fingers between yours, entwining them with an ease that proved this wasn’t just the adrenaline, or a escape from the cold, or lust. It was something more.

“…Do you regret it?” you whispered softly, not daring to look at her.

Ellie was quiet for a second before answering.

“You want me to be honest? …No. Not at all.” She lifted your chin gently, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I’d do it all over again—every second of it, exactly the way it happened.”

A brief silence hung between you as her words sank in, then a soft, amused laugh escaped your lips.

“Did I just hear you say something sweet? Where’s Ellie and what have you done with her?”

The teasing was nothing but a flimsy shield, barely covering the overwhelming relief that washed over you at her answer.

"Aaaand you just had to ruin the moment." she grumbled, giving your hand a light squeeze. "Now shut up and sleep, princess."

She didn’t say anything else—just sighed and reached out, pulling you against her, her hand firm on the curve of your waist. You closed your eyes as your mind raced, unsure what to think.

You knew this changed everything—made it messier, riskier. That it would put your jobs, your dynamic, everything on the line.

But when you opened your eyes again, hers were already on you, gleaming in the darkness. And for just one damn second, something unspoken burned there. Something that made the fall inevitable.

Something that told you this was far from over.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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#lesbian #lesbian pride #lgbtq #ellie williams imagine #lesbian shot #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou #shappic #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw

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demonic0angel · 4 months ago

Note

for the burning man anger management AU you did, maybe it comes out that the joker is behind all this? mix in the previous hatred of the joker plus the distress of the fake cheating and jason todd would end up publicly beating the joker to death. or jazz would kill the joker

Part 1, part 3

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" Jason roared.

Tim winced. "I don't know what to tell you. Kon and I went investigating and we found out that the Joker has someone captured with your face. They apparently found a lookalike and then used plastic surgery to do the rest."

Jason was almost vibrating with rage. His fists clenched hard enough for his short nails to dig into his palm, sending droplets of blood onto the floor.

Tim stared at him in horror.

"Jason..."

"I can't believe this," Jason hissed, shuddering as he suddenly hated with every fiber of his being, "He killed me, he hurt Barbara, our family, and now he's ruining my marriage?!" He turned to Tim with green eyes blazing. "Does Jazz know about this?!"

Tim shook his head. "No, but I did tell Young Justice because they helped. Dani knows."

Jason covered his face, unintentionally smearing the blood. He breathed in and out deeply, trying not to explode from sheer rage and hatred.

These past several days, he had skipped sleeping to investigate into the cheating evidence. He had worked tirelessly day and night to take care of the house and Crime Alley as Jazz continued to go to work, and their marriage descended into a relationship like roommates.

Jason did not blame her. Jazz had not treated him harshly or mention that she did not believe him. She had only acted politely, as if she had entirely closed herself off to avoid hurting herself. She was still kind, but his sweet, mischievous wife had hidden herself away.

Jason had never wanted to tear apart Gotham City like this before. It was as if he wanted everyone to feel the same pain as he did. He was full of so much resentment and frustration these days that he had unintentionally resorted back to his mindless killing ways before Jazz had helped him with the Pit Madness.

And now he found a real, proper outlet.

Jason hummed and then said, "Alright. Thank you, Tim."

Tim nodded. "Of course. So... what are your plans after this?"

"I'm going to find the Joker," Jason said emotionlessly. "Then I'm going to torture the information out of him before I blow a hole through his brains. Then I'm going to hunt down everyone and anyone who was involved in this and then I'm going to go home and beg Jazz for forgiveness."

Tim paused. Then he nodded again, more stiff this time, "Okay. I'll get you a list of everyone I know who was involved."

Jason smiled coldly.

"Perfect."

Well, no matter what, Jason would fix his marriage with Jazz. Even if he had to massacre the entirety of the Joker's lot to do so.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #jazz fenton #anon ask #tim drake #jason todd #jason x jazz #anger management ship #hardcover ship #ty for the ask!#ngl I was so confused on what the burning man au was but I figured it out lmao #burning au

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tryslora · 5 months ago

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Disability in fiction

This was a tough post to write.

I saw a post about disability rep, and I kept thinking about it, and wanted to share my own takes on the topic.

I thought about it for days, trying to figure out how to word it. Then after drafting it, I stuck it in a file for a couple of weeks, trying to decide if I could even post it. This is not a topic that can be boiled down to a simple yes/no kind of answer.

Let’s start with two examples.

1 - I have a short story I started writing (it wants to grow up to be longer, so it’s waiting for time) where my original concept was to write about an older woman who is short and has major chronic pain, and I wanted to dig into fantasy reasons why this pain exists, but at the same time, have her be able to kick ass despite being exhausted and dealing with excruciatingly painful issues.

2 - I once drafted a portal fantasy storyline wherein a young man was transported into a fantasy world, and when he was given a horse to ride, he approached it very warily. He was encouraged to mount, did so, and sat there and exclaimed in shock, “My brain isn’t exploding with snot!” because his allergies hadn’t come with him into the body he had in the fantasy world.

Both stories were designed to be fun, a bit light, maybe even cozy.

So.

In one case, the disabled character remains disabled and kicks ass anyway. And in the other case, the character is magically “healed” and no longer has debilitating allergies that had wrecked his way of life.

This is the difficult part to express: I think both storylines are valid.

Bear with me while I dig into this.

First and foremost: I completely agree that we need more representation in all forms of fiction, especially when it comes to disabled people being able to live their lives. Characters with missing limbs, or non-neurotypical brains, or anxiety & depression, or hearing issues, or sight problems, or chronic pain, or… or… you get the idea. We need all of it, and we need it to not need to be magically healed in order for a story to be considered happy and cozy. Disabled people can be happy, too.

I’m all in for this, and I wouldn’t write the stories I do if I weren’t.

However, there are also moments where I am so exhausted by my body and by everything I deal with inside of it where I do wish for that magical ability to forget that my pain exists. Or for the ability to actually process information in a straight line, or make decisions without writing a hundred lists and accomplishing nothing from them. Or to be able to lie down in a field of grass without regretting it for days while I drip snot and fight sinus-pain-induced migraines.

Sometimes I want to imagine that my life is different.

And that is one of the joys of writing. I can choose to write a story where people like me or the people I know are the heroes/heroines exactly as they are, different abilities and all. Or I can choose to write a story where the problems magically resolve.

Both can be cozy, sweet, and adorable. I can give the character with chronic pain the ability to kick ass, take names, and have a sweet reunion with her ex-girlfriend. I can show all the ways that my disabilities may define how I handle my life differently than someone else, but do not define what I can and cannot do.

But I can also daydream about a life where it’s different, the same way I can daydream about having wings, or being able to teleport. For me, imagining a day with no pain is the same as a day where I can walk through walls. It is absolutely a fantasy, and about as likely to happen.

Here’s the thing: It’s okay to be angry to see what looks like disability being erased. It’s okay to wonder why the author did that, why they magically healed someone instead of letting them be who they were. But at the same time, maybe ask why, and what point of view it’s coming from. Or look a little deeper into the story and how the resolution occurs, and the effect it does have on the character (I suspect that were I to suddenly have a day of no pain, I’d be intensely reckless, given what an idiot I am while IN pain, y’know? And WOW would I regret that later…).

And for authors, think about what you’re writing. WHY is this particular event (keeping disability, erasing it, whichever or both) happening, because the reader will take note of it. They may see things that weren’t intended, but are there as unintentional biases.

Make conscious decisions for why things happen.

Someday I want to get back to both of those examples from the start of this post; I still like both concepts. But I’ll be writing them for very different reasons, and both will be healing my soul in different ways. Different kinds of daydreams. And again, I think that’s valid, too.

#writing #disability #my own thoughts

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 11 months ago

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Shaking (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have an anxiety attack in a public setting, but luckily, the doctor is there to help you through it.

Word Count: 2450

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mild cursing, mostly just ANGST and then comforting FLUFF

A/N: Wanted to write Spence comforting the reader during a panic attack. Fanfiction is better than therapy, right? At least, it’s cheaper! Also not my GIF

——

“You don’t want to just order it online?” Spencer asked as you walked beside him down the sidewalk. His longer legs would typically mean that he’d be several steps ahead of you, but he always slowed his pace so you wouldn’t have to strain to keep up with him. He also walked on the outside of the path because, let’s face it, he was a gentleman.

You shook your head. “No, I want the whole experience,” you said excitedly as you walked, your face lighting up in anticipation. You were on your way towards a local bookstore, where the third book in your favorite series was being released today. The bookstore was going to be packed, but you were so excited to be one of the first ones in the door, to get your hands on a physical copy. “I don’t ever do things like this, but it’ll be something I think about every time I look at the book sitting on my shelf.”

Spencer nodded, lifting his hand, his thumb and forefinger in an O-shape as he spoke. “Ah, the age-old concept of symbolic treasures. One of the main reasons why souvenirs are such a prevalent part of going on vacation. Did you know the tradition dates back to Ancient Egypt?”

You shook your head as you continued to walk with him. Your boyfriend carried on without fault. “As far back as 2200 B.C, Egyptian Prince Harkhuf traveled to what is now known as Sudan and returned with all sorts of objects to present to his father, the pharaoh,” Spencer explained. His words spat out quickly, compulsively, as though they had to exit his encyclopedic brain. “He brought back items such as incense, ivory, even the skins of leopards to show off to his father.”

“I had no idea,” you told Spencer as you neared the bookstore, smiling sideways at him. You loved it when he spouted off facts like that, like he had to get the information out or else he’d explode. He had confessed to you more than once before that most people found it weird or off-putting or even annoying, but not you. Rather, you loved learning new things. Whatever information he had to share with you was always relevant in one way or another, and it was just one of the reasons why you loved spending time with him - he made you a more knowledgeable, well-rounded person.

Before either of you could say much else, you’d reached the back of the line of the bookstore. You checked the time on your phone. The store would open in about fifteen minutes. The line stretched down at least a full block, from what you could see. Lots of people dressed like characters from the books, shuffling their feet in excited anticipation.

There were at least a hundred people in the line, and after a minute or two, a couple dozen more had filed in behind where you stood. You pursed your lips for a moment, scanning the crowd until your eyes met Spencer’s.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, inclining his head to the side.

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said. “Just… lot of people.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, then reached down to take your hand. Your fingers twined with his and he squeezed his palm against yours. “I’m right here,” he reminded you. You didn’t love crowds. They always made you feel anxious, perhaps even a little claustrophobic. You and Spencer had gone to a fairly crowded French film festival a few months ago and there hadn’t been an organized line to enter; rather, it had been a cluster of people, all pressed together. And you had felt like you couldn’t breathe. Spencer’d had to pull you to a seat off to the side so you could catch your breath, and you’d missed getting a seat up front like you’d been hoping for.

Right now, you were okay, though. There were people in front of you and behind you, but they weren’t flush against you like they had been waiting for the film festival to open. And Spencer was holding your hand, and you were outside, with the cool, spring morning breeze hitting your face. It was fine. You were going to be fine. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, then nodded your head, feeling the anxiety dissipate. “I’m good,” you told Spencer, looking up at him.

Spencer nodded. He squeezed your hand once again before letting go, only so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and tug you so you leaned against his chest. He kissed the top of your hair. “It’s going to be just fine,” he promised you, and you just smiled to yourself.

About ten minutes later, the store opened. You only knew that because the line started moving, and more quickly than you thought. You squealed in delight and matched the pace of the people in front of you, Spencer by your side with an amused grin on his face. He loved books just as much as you did, if not more, but this outing was definitely just for you. He’d read the other preceding books in this series (literally just because you asked him to and it took him an hour, tops), but he wasn’t a total geek for it like you were.

You finally made it inside the bookstore, a small business, a local place. You’d been inside several times before, but you hadn’t realized just how small the building actually was until you stepped in now. It was two stories, but everyone was tightly packed, with the people and the bookshelves crowding around you as you made it fully inside the store. There was even a line to go up to the second floor, like a queue at an amusement park.

There was little to no breathing room. Everyone was talking as they waited their turn to grab a copy of the new book, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls and the ceiling and smack you right in the ear. The air felt thick despite the front door and handful of windows being opened, allowing the cool spring breeze to ruffle the pages of the paperbacks on display.

But it wasn’t refreshing. Rather, it was another stimulant that caused the neurons in your brain to fire even faster. You felt your palms get slick. You felt your heart start to pound, and your knees wobble as you shuffled forward in the line. What were you even waiting in line for? You momentarily forgot, blinking a few times before looking up at the man beside you. Spencer was engrossed in looking around the bookstore, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he seemed to find something amusing. But when his eyes came full circle back to you, they were immediately filled with concern. “Y/N?” He asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You couldn’t even hear him. The sound of his voice just bounced off your brain, like you were trapped inside of cellophane. All you could think was trapped. I’m trapped. No way out. Stuck. Caged. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.

You felt your breathing go heavy, and your eyes fill up with tears. Your cheeks were red, bright red, judging from how hot you suddenly felt. “Leave,” you managed to choke out, your voice coming out from your throat. It felt like your throat was lined with thorns, like the words you wanted to say kept getting caught.

Spencer nodded. “Leave? Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can leave,” Spencer grabbed your hand, tugging you along behind him as he murmured “excuse me, pardon me,” to the other patrons, to get through the crowd. Moving against the crowd was so much worse than standing still. All those eyes on you, seeing your red face and the anxious tears trickling down your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, freaking out like this is such a public space. Everyone thinks I’m a freak, you thought. Your anxiety became not about the crowd, but about your anxiety, about how you were being perceived. Your breathing picked up, quickened, and by the time Spencer led you out into the morning sun, you were fully hyperventilating.

The thoughts in your head were racing at the speed of light. You hated feeling nervous like this, but moreover, you hated that Spencer had to take care of you because of it. You felt like you had ruined the day because your head wasn’t on straight, because you couldn’t stand in a crowd of people and hear the cacophony of voices and tamp down your panic.

Spencer led you down the block, about twenty feet from the store, away from the crowd, and your breath was still coming out staccato, unstable as you looked down at your shaking hands. You were crying and hyperventilating and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Spencer kept his hold on your hand and stood in front of you, squeezing his palm against yours. His eyes, those light brown irises with little flecks of green, stared into yours. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, bending his knees so his face was level with yours. “Breathe with me, okay?”

You shook your head, your eyes clamping shut. You were so mad at yourself in that moment. You didn’t want to have Spencer take care of you, to have to drag you out of a bookstore because you were having a panic attack. “Baby, you’re trembling,” you heard Spencer’s voice laced with concern. “Look at me. We’ll get through this together.”

You opened your eyes slowly, and that’s when you realized your entire body was shaking. You looked into Spencer’s eyes and he released your hand so he could cup your face. His fingers anchored under your jaw, his thumbs rested on your cheeks, and his eyes were wide, full of worry, but his voice managed to stay soothing and calm. “Follow my breath, Y/N. Do what I’m doing, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.”

He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you tried to follow his lead, but you just couldn’t control your lungs. “It’s okay,” he assured you as your brows furrowed, presenting frustration. “C’mon, try again.” He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you managed to match him this time. “Hold for four,” you held your breath while Spencer counted. “And out for four,” you exhaled deeply. “Good, okay, let’s do it again.”

Spencer guided your breath for a few minutes, until you finally felt like you could do it on your own. And when you finally felt yourself coming down from the rush of panic that had sent you into fight-or-flight, you wiped at your wet eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croaked, and Spencer just shook his head.

“No,” he insisted, taking your hand and placing it on his heart. You could feel it beating through his long-sleeved t-shirt. “No, you don’t have to be sorry.” You rubbed your hand against his chest, finding it comforting as you hung your head. “Baby, look at me,” he requested, and you met his eyes.

“Please don’t ever apologize for having an anxiety attack, okay? For one thing, it’s not your fault. You can’t control the chemicals and waves in your brain and how your body reacts to situations,” Spencer began, his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest. You nodded, using the heel of your free hand to wipe away your tears. The crying was over, you were fairly certain, but god, did this suck. “You also should never feel ashamed for having a panic attack, Y/N. It happened, and we’re working through it. It’s a lot like boiling a pot of water, isn’t it?”

You let out a garbled sounding laugh and your brows furrowed. “How so?” You stammered out.

“Well, you set the pot of water on the stove, right?” Spencer began, and you nodded. “And then when it starts to bubble, that’s your anxiety. Some sort of external stimulant - the stove, or, in your case, the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd - is causing the water to bubble. And when the external stimulant increases in intensity, so too does your anxiety. And sometimes, yeah, the pot boils over.” Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “But then you just turn the stove off, grab a dishtowel, and clean up the mess. Problem solved.”

You cracked a half-hearted smile. “So in this metaphor, you’re a dishtowel?” You asked, curling your fingers around the fabric of his shirt.

“Technically, I think it’s a simile, but yes,” Spencer grinned as he looked in your eyes.

“But the book,” you sighed, looking back at the bookstore, which was still filtering people in and out slowly. The patrons leaving the store clutched their new copies of the book in their hands, grinning and taking pictures with their phones, laughing with their friends excitedly.

“Do you want to get back in line and try again?” Spencer asked, and you bit your cheek pensively.

“I don’t think so,” you said softly, defeatedly.

“That’s okay,” Spencer said. You loved that he wasn’t coddling you, he was just feeling it out, seeing what you were up for. “Do you want to get brunch somewhere and come back? Maybe the line will have died down by then?”

You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah,” you agreed. You realized your hand was still over his heart, rubbing at his chest. Your movement halted and you retracted your hand, but before your arm could fall completely at your side, Spencer scooped your hand up and kissed the back of your palm. “What if we come back and they’ve sold out of the book, though?” You asked as Spencer walked with you in the direction of one of your favorite brunch places, just a short walk from the bookstore.

“There are twenty-two independent bookstores in the D.C. metropolitan area alone,” Spencer rattled off. “If this one doesn’t have it, we’ll drive around until we find one that does.”

“What article did you read that told you how many bookstores were in D.C?” You asked. You often liked to challenge him by asking him to cite his sources.

“No article. I did a search on Google Maps last night,” Spencer explained.

“What, because you knew I’d freak out when we walked into this one?” You asked him.

Spencer shook his head. “No, just wanted to have a contingency plan in case our first stop sold out before we got there.”

“Always thinking ahead, huh, Boy Wonder?”

“Damn straight.” A smirk formed across Spencer’s lips.

You shook your head. “You’re the best dishtowel a girl could ask for.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

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sassysnowperson · 1 month ago

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The world is exploding and you want me to take care of myself?

I live in the U.S.A. As you might have heard, things are PRETTY BAD right now. It's been bad before, sure. I mostly coped with 2016-2020 by ignoring the news and writing a TON of fanfiction.

But between then and now I went and got a job as a therapist, and it turns out I can't just stick my head when my whole job is to help other people with the stuff that's stressing THEM out. So I've had to find a better way to deal with it. I thought some of y'all might appreciate a distillation of the conversations I've been having, with myself, and with the people I'm working with, as we try to figure this out together.

Yeah, It's Bad.

So yeah, we know that depression and anxiety are lying liars that lie. But. Your anxiety or depression isn't lying to you about this one. Things are bad. That said, maybe it's helpful to check if they are lying to you about your ability to survive this, to handle this, to find spaces where you can act. We are not doomed to paralysis and misery.

The Paralysis is the Point.

The current administration is using a playbook that involves trying to make their opponents feel overwhelmed, helpless, miserable. Any action we take against that is action against tyranny.

Action is the Antidote.

We live in an age where we can take in endless misery, about things that are either so big or so distant or so both that we are not able, by ourselves, to fix them. And that sucks. We need to find a way to turn that fear energy into action.

More Things are Action than You Think.

Self-care is an act of resistance. Authoritarianism does not do well with a hopeful, resilient, connected populace. Taking care of yourself is action, taking care of those you love is action, building hope and resilience is action. Talking to your neighbors, taking care of them, paying attention to their needs and seeking local solutions to address them - all actions. Any step you take towards building resilience in yourself and your community fights the crap you see on the news.

Speaking of the News.

Lets talk about digital self-care. This is not an all-or-nothing situation. If you need to detach completely, go ahead. But your options are not only ignore or open yourself up to an endless stream of misery. This is going to look different for different people, but we have got to refine our information boundaries. That might be blocking or unfollowing people (even people we agree with, who are saying things in a way that triggers our own despair). It might be losing certain platforms, it might be seeking out news from specific trusted journalists or a weekly roundup. Pay attention to how you feel during and after your news and social media use. Is it helping you live the life you want to live? Is it meeting a need? Is there a better way to get that need met?

Some Things are Still Good.

Let's make a Still Good list. All the crap in the world, but you know what, my cats purr is still good. The smell of vanilla and old books is still good, the look of a new-green shoot sticking out of the dirt is still good. No, we're not doing this to ignore the bad and pretend life is wonderful. But our brains are designed to prioritize threats, and with so many threats, it will wear itself out trying to protect you. Find the things that are still good, focus on them. Let yourself rest in the good, at least for awhile.

You are not alone.

It's so easy to feel alone. Feel like we misjudged the world, what was important to people. How can people think so differently than ourselves? The world is so big, things are so bad, and it feels like we're fighting by ourselves, so why not give up?

You are not alone. There are people that believe in the same things you do. You are not the only one fighting. Anything that you find full of despair and hopelessness, I promise, there are smart people with good ideas working on it. Take comfort from their presence. If you have space to do more, try to find them for the thing that's close to your heart.

I want better for us. And I know I am not alone. Neither are you. I promise. Neither are you.

#refined from conversations I've had with so many clients #and with myself #it was good for me to try to lay it out in a written format #And then I thought it might be helpful for others #so I'm sharing #tw politics #resistance #activism #self care is an act of resistance

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saphronethaleph · 9 months ago

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Lizard v Wizard

“Long have I waited for my grandchild to come home…” Palpatine said, then the smile fell off his face. “...you are not my grandchild.”

“Yeah, we swapped jobs,” Finn agreed, shrugging off a backpack and letting it drop to the floor. “Rey said she was having visions about her falling to evil and sitting on the throne of the Sith, and I said that I hadn’t had any of those visions.”

“Your arrogance will be your downfall, boy,” Palpatine informed him. “Either I will destroy you or you will turn to the Dark Side.”

Finn paused, frowning.

“...huh,” he said. “You really do call it that? I guess I owe Rey an apology.”

“Explain yourself,” Palpatine snapped. “What are you talking about?”

“The Dark Side,” Finn explained, stressing the word. “Seriously, you use that language and it’s going to make me think the Force is a bit racist.”

Palpatine sat in complete silence for several seconds, as his brain rebooted.

“I mean, if you were black yourself, I’d maybe buy the idea that it’s meant to be a matter of pride,” Finn went on. “Reclaiming the term, and all that. But then again you have this whole white power thing going on with the stormtroopers, so it’s not that.”

He shrugged. “And then there’s the bit where you blow up planets as a hobby, because that just makes it really obvious that you’re not even trying to pretend any more.”

“I am going to do you the courtesy of ignoring your nonsense,” Palpatine said, icily. “Make your choice. Turn to the Dark Side, or die.”

Finn laughed.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re making that sound like it’s a threat that works.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

“I escaped from the First Order and I was on a capital ship when it got hyperspace rammed,” Finn said. “Also, I came here to fight you, which I think qualifies as a particularly elaborate suicide anyway.”

He shrugged, walking around in a half circle. “I would like to survive this, don’t get me wrong, but… like… if I don’t, and you don’t, I actually think that’s an absolute win.”

“I’ve made my decision,” Palpatine said, with an almost glassy calm. “I’m going to kill you now.”

He raised his hand, which spat lightning, and the lightning stabbed out at Finn – and vanished, as it passed over his backpack.

Finn picked the backpack up again. “Huh, they work,” he said. “Lando said it would but I had to take it on trust.”

Palpatine looked at his hands, then tried to blast Finn for a second time. Again the lightning vanished, then both men looked around at the sound of running feet.

“Rey, I hope you’re in here!” Ben said, then skidded to a halt. “Aren’t you the traitor?”

“We call ourselves the Resistance,” Finn answered. “What are you doing here?”

“Running away from a dozen very angry ex-followers!” Ben replied. “I’ve turned back to the Light Side.”

“Huh,” Finn replied. “Away from the Evil Side?”

“It’s called the Dark Side,” Ben corrected.

“We already had this discussion before you turned up, I think the term Dark side is racist,” Finn said, then Palpatine tried to electrocute him again.

“STOP IGNORING ME!” Palpatine shouted.

“I never thought of it that way, but I think it’s meant to be the absence of light, as in starlight?” Ben guessed, as the sound of stampeding Knights of Ren came down the corridor.

Something exploded overhead.

“Huh, Rey must be doing well,” Finn said, ignoring Palpatine. “And, yeah, I can buy that.”

He reached into the backpack. “Blaster or lightsaber?”

“I don’t have a lightsaber and I would really like one,” Ben said, then caught the Skywalker Lightsaber as Finn threw it to him. “Thank you so much.”

Finn retrieved a blaster from the bag as well, then did something that went beep.

“Five,” he said, throwing the bag at Palpatine. “Four. Three.”

Palpatine raised his hand to bat the backpack away, and got hit in the face by it.

For his part, Finn dove to the floor, and Ben did so as well just before Finn’s count hit zero, and a thermal detonator went off.

The explosion did unfortunately kill the ysalamir in the bag, but by then Palpatine was a little bit too dead to take advantage.

#star wars #palpatine #another bad day for palps #finn #ben solo

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allthesethingswillendsoon · 15 days ago

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Long, long time

CHAPTER SIX: The after

SUMMARY: Paige does some introspecting

NOTE: Okay sorry this took me so long, like putting it into perspective for myself the last chapter came out during the regular season, and this one is coming out after they've just won Big East Champs. This chapter was supposed to be longer but then i just wanted to post this one and be done with it because to be frank, this chapter is garbage filler and it barely adds anything to the plot but whatever this is the chapter that i'm posting, my apologies. Also apologies for that rant just then Okay try your hardest to enjoy this chapter guys, thanks so much for sticking with me :)

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Warnings: Little bit of angst, Self discovery 2.7k words (yikes) Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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15th of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

It was crazy how quickly things could change.

Paige felt as if her life could be split up into two parts; before the kiss, and after the kiss.

The before had been easy, oh so easy. And she hadn’t appreciated it how she should have. Everything was simple, day-to-day life was repetitive but always moving forward without issue, without effort. Most importantly, she was able to look Azzi in the eyes for more than ten seconds at a time.

The after was different. But it was the kind of difference where everything was exactly the same but entirely, and irrevocably changed. She felt as if all the gravity on Earth had dissipated for a split second, only to return. How was she to react? How was she to go back to normal after that?

Sure, she had seen movies, heard stories from other girls, heard about how kissing is like the greatest invention in the world. But she had no point of reference, no way to know if it really was all that. That was, until about two weeks prior. When her best friend took all the gravity out of the world only to put it all right back.

They hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t once acknowledged the fact it had happened. If it hadn't been so life-changing Paige would have forgotten that it happened at all.

But to be clear, Paige had not forgotten, not in the slightest. Every night, every time she closed her eyes, she was reminded of the way Azzi’s soft lips felt against her own.

It was just such an odd situation, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. There was no guidebook for what to do when you kiss your best friend.

All she knew is that one thing led to another and she had found herself lying in bed with her laptop open in front of her.

The first search was simple enough, lesbian.

It led to all kinds of articles and websites and videos. There were news reports of lesbians killed in clubs, alleys, in broad daylight. Videos of girls, old and young, coming out to their families. Stories of the lesbians who paved the path for acceptance, who gave their lives to the cause.

There was just so much information, so much so that it got to the point where Paige had to shut her laptop down before her brain exploded.

As she laid in bed she told herself that the reason why she had searched that word, why her fingers had reached for those specific seven keys, was because she needed to show herself that wasn’t who she was.

She made a point to ignore the nagging voice in her head that told her that girls who like boys don’t need to prove it to themselves. She ignored the voice again when it said that girls probably kiss their best friends all the time and don’t then look up stuff about lesbians.

To put the voice, and herself, to sleep she told herself that it was just a preventative measure, that it had nothing to do with Azzi, or the kiss.

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16th of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

The second night she had scoffed her lasagna down as fast as she could, excused herself to go to sleep, and then opened her laptop.

She spent ten whole minutes wondering what was the next, more specific thing she could search for. It finally came to her, signs you are a lesbian.

The best way for her to know she was not a lesbian was to see that she didn’t actually relate to any of the signs.

She read through countless websites, growing increasingly agitated as she found herself relating to them more and more.

The signs listed on each list were largely the same.

Do you want to be that girl? Or be with her?

Paige thought back to Allison from grade two. She had blonde hair that was much longer than Paige’s and much shinier than hers too. It had really irked the young girl that Allison could have that and she couldn’t. She sat behind her in class, Azzi next to her. Often Paige would become fully engrossed in staring at the back of Allison’s head, accidentally ignoring Azzi in the process. It went on like that for a few weeks, spending all day staring at Allison’s long, glossy hair. They rarely spoke to one another, so it was a surprise when Paige and Azzi walked into their classroom to find Allison missing. Their teacher had explained that Allison had moved away and wouldn’t be coming back, Paige cried and cried and cried at the news.

Looking back she realised maybe jealousy wasn’t what she was feeling, maybe it was something a little harder for a second grader to understand.

But whatever, one little incident didn’t mean anything.

You wished movies ended differently.

The summer before middle school started Paige and Azzi did a Harry Potter movie marathon. Planted in front of the TV they lost almost three days to elaborate magic battles and charming British accents. They both loved it. At dinner they would delve into the plot of the movies they had watched that day, and their parents would smile and nod, letting them chatter as much as they wanted. But when they reached the end of the final movie, where Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry sent their kids off to Hogwarts, Paige found herself disappointed at the endings for the female characters. She had explained that she thought they would’ve been better off by themselves, not being tied down by men who would stop them from furthering their magical careers. Besides, Hermione was way better at sorcery, and Ginny was the best Quidditch player in the world.

It definitely wasn’t because she wanted Hermione and Ginny to end up together.

She told herself it didn’t matter what her opinions were on Harry Potter, it was pretend. How could she use that to quantify such a big part of herself?

You’ve dreamt of being with another girl.

Paige had worked hard to erase the memory of waking up sweaty in her bed after an oddly vivid dream a few nights after the kiss. She made a point to try and forget what she had dreamt of, she even went as far as searching up hypnotism methods to forget dreams (which decidedly did not work). For the next agonising week of her life she had dreamt of smooth expanses of caramel skin and curly brown hair. She dreamt of soft hands with nails coated in pink nail polish running up and down her bare skin. She dreamt of plump lips sliding familiarly against her own, whispering her name between laboured breaths. After many failed attempts to stop the recurring dream she had finally found the trick, melatonin. It knocked her out as soon as she hit her pillows, giving her heavy, dream-less sleep, perfect. Of course she knew that drugging yourself to avoid dreaming was a bad idea, but having those dreams every night was infinitely worse.

For the week she had been taking melatonin she had woken up cold and groggy, but on the bright side she found it mildly easier to make eye contact with Azzi. Nowhere near the comfortability of before, but just a centimetre closer. And that was what mattered, any progress was good progress.

The list of signs went on and on, and Paige found herself relating to nearly all of them, she decided that she had had enough online browsing for one night.

Fine. Maybe she did actually relate to some of the signs, whatever, that didn’t actually mean anything, she probably matched lots of the criteria for being straight too.

She tucked herself into bed and made a concerted effort to ignore the same nagging voice from before, telling her that it wasn’t normal to have to look for signs of lesbianism in yourself.

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17th of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

The third night she had decided that there was only one way to decide if she was a lesbian - by taking as many ‘Am I gay?’ buzzfeed quizzes that she could find.

She typed the words into her laptop and opened the first quiz that popped up. The first question read, ‘Have you ever had a crush on someone of the same gender as you?’

Well that was frustrating, that wasn’t a question she wanted to answer, so she moved onto the next quiz.

This time it asked, ‘Have you ever had a crush on someone of the opposite gender?’

That was definitely a question she didn’t want to answer as well.

Oh well, onto the next quiz, except that one asked another unanswerable question. The next quiz was the same, and the quiz after that, and the quiz after that one, and then after that, and then after that. Every single quiz she came across asked questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

She was an hour in, and had managed to turn ten pages of links from blue to purple without being any closer to an answer.

It was stupid. Why were they asking questions that could actually determine if she was gay? If she knew the answers, or rather wanted to admit them to herself, then she'd already know the result they would give her. If that were the case she wouldn’t be taking a crappy online quiz.

Why weren’t there questions about favorite colors? Or about favorite seasons? Those were the ones she wanted to answer; Questions about the easy stuff, about favourite radio hits and TV shows. Deep down, she knew that those kinds of questions couldn’t actually tell her whether she was or not. But she also knew deep down that if she took one of the quizzes and answered the questions honestly, she’d get an answer she didn’t want.

She shut her laptop with a huff, took two melatonin, and went to sleep.

—------------------------------------

18th of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

Paige spent the entire day contemplating whether or not continuing her online searches was a good idea. She realised that the only reason for her apprehension was because she knew that the more she learnt about lesbians, the more similarities she might find in herself.

It was scary, but part of her knew that if she were to search, and realise something important about herself, then that realisation would have come anyway. And wasn’t it better to get the self discovery out of the way?

It was scary, but it was necessary.

So that night, after an almost never ending school day, Paige went to bed early and opened her laptop.

This time the search was the same, ‘Am I gay quiz’.

She took a deep breath before clicking on the first one that came up, the link was purple, it was the same one from the night before.

Telling the truth on the quiz was hard, and scary, but most importantly it was the right thing to do. With a shaky hand she moved the cursor over the ‘Complete’ button.

The wait was only thirty seconds, but it might as well have been thirty thousand years. Her eyes were burning from the bright, white, light of her laptop, but she didn’t care about that. All she cared about was seeing the answer that came up.

The endless circle disappeared, and the screen froze.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Finally it unfreezed, the results were right there.

But Paige was drowning in nerves and her vision was blurry, and when had reading ever been this difficult? Her chest was heaving and suddenly all the air in the world wasn’t enough to fill her lungs that were desperate for more.

Maybe seconds or hours or days later she calms, her vision clearing so she can read the results; ‘You are a lesbian’

She burst into tears. The answer brought as many questions as it did answers.

How would she tell her dad?

How would she tell Azzi?

How would people at school be?

Would she tell them?

Do they already know?

The questions were swirling around her mind at lightning speed. After a while the tears slowed down.

It was hard to get that kind of answer. And it was scary, really scary, but it was also a little exciting. She had always felt a little different, like there was a part of her that didn’t match the person she thought she was supposed to be. But now, thanks to the crappy website, she knew what it was, and putting a name to the difference made it feel less like a shortcoming and more like a part of herself she could learn to love.

Just like the past nights she shut her laptop down and went to sleep. But unlike the other nights she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she fell asleep quickly after she took her melatonin.

Realising she was gay didn’t mean she wanted the dreams to come back, she was stressed enough as it was despite her happiness, and she was glad when she woke up in the morning after a heavy, dreamless sleep.

—------------------------------------

19th of MARCH, 2015

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

The next day at school was hard.

She felt more comfortable in herself, yet at the same time she felt dirty, like her realisation was a naughty little secret, one that she simply had to hide. To be fair she didn’t have very many friends, so for the most part it was easy to avoid talking, and in turn made it easier to hide.

Azzi on the other hand, was a lot harder to hide from. She only had three classes with her, biology, PE, and world history. Because it was the end of the year they worked through world history and biology in nearly complete silence. Normally she would’ve spent her time annoying the girl next to her, poking her and chatting her ear off, but having spent the past few evenings fully committed to researching lesbians, she had fallen behind, somehow farther behind than what was normal for her. She was noticeably more focussed, only stopping her furious keyboard tapping to glance over at Azzi a few times. The younger girl noticed, and made a mental note to ask her if she was okay later, but in the moment she decided to utilise every minute of peace to smash through her assignments.

Lunch had passed without incident, the two falling into their usual lunchtime routine. It was PE where everything went wrong. The change rooms were filled with light chatter like always as the girls pulled on their gym clothes. Paige and Azzi found themselves in the same corner every day, they changed in silence, Paige with her head turned fully away from any other person, and Azzi just minding her own business.

It had been a dreaded day, they needed to run a staggering five miles on the half-mile track, which meant ten laps - absolutely diabolical. The two best friends were surprisingly good runners, they kept a steady pace next to one another as they completed lap after lap after lap. They were amongst some of the first in their class to finish, and they received a ‘good work girls!’ from Mr. Polinsky.

Standing by the benches they spent a few minutes catching their breath.

After a sufficient amount of huffing they plopped down on the bench, sat close enough together that their knees would knock occasionally. They stayed in comfortable silence, watching as the rest of the class struggled through their last few laps.

Azzi looked over at Paige, who was staring hard out onto the field, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She was the picture of stressed-out, and as her best friend she simply could not let it go.

Bumping their shoulders together, Azzi asked,“Hey P, you good?”

Paige turned to her, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, “Yeah? Why?”

Aware of her nervousness, she cautioned,“Just wanted to make sure. You don’t seem like yourself today.”

“What?! No, I've never been more myself! Just the same old Paige! Same as always!” Paige responded, voice higher pitched than what was healthy, her eyebrows raised so high they could’ve flown away. Noticing the concern covering Azzi’s face she decided to change her approach. She deadpanned, “Nothing has changed.”

Even though Paige’s response said nothing other than ‘something has changed, something is wrong’. Azzi decided to drop it before her best friend absolutely lost her mind.

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So basically to sum up Paige is an awkward little lesbian is what this chapter is getting at. Also feel free to send me just any questions about anything i love getting things in my inbox it's the best Thanks so much for reading this, love you guys!

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #azzi fudd fic #uconn huskies #uconnwbb #wcbb

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