#ensemble time travel is a bitch to write but can be so fun

[howdidthisevenhappenanyway]

time travel AU where everyone who got killed by darth vader gets sent back in time

just a bunch of jedi including younglings, a handful of rebels who pissed him off enough, padmé and sabé, a bunch of imps, and a whole tribe of tuscans waking up together after being choked out or cut up by laser sword

I can’t figure out when would be funniest for them to arrive

[hayjeon]

You Set My Heart on Fire 01 [M] ft. Namjoon

→ fireman!namjoon and paramedic!y/n au (warning: drunken sex, oral, etc.)  → 10k words, part 1 | part 2 | fin. → As a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

Hi! this is a reupload, and i figured i’d vamp up the title and the header in the meantime! Thank you to the user who managed to save this just in time, after I accidentally deleted it T___T I am forever indebted to you, and I lost your username, so if you see this pls dm me i’d love to write something for as a token of my appreciation!

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair as the lawyer continues to lay out the demands.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you huff, glaring at the idiot gangster who’s at the other side of the room. He cringes a bit at your glare, nursing an ice pack against his bruised cheek.

“I swear, he slapped my ass! I was just retaliating!” You cry, frustrated. Your surgery chief huffs angrily at your behavior and you settle back, clenching your fists on top of the table.

The lawyer snarks back, “You also managed to cause damage to the victim’s body in the process. He’s demanding full reparations. Let’s see,” she muses, flipping through the documents spread out on the table between the both of you. “A broken nose, bruised cheekbone, fractured wrist from when he fell, and muscle strains on his lower back, and psychological damage from framing him for sexual harassment and from the physical assault. In total, it would amount the hospital to about $50,000 to cover the hospital costs and the time he would need to talk off from his job, and the continued physical and mental therapy sessions to follow for around 6 months.” She closes the file with a grin. “So, Dr. Y/N, what’s it gonna be?”

“Chief, I can’t believe we’re just losing to him!” You cry, following after Dr. Kim, who’s seething as he storms down the hall outside of the conference room.

He screeches to a halt, turning around with a glare. “Well, what do you wanna do?!” He throws his hands up in defeat, “You want to cause a whole legal issue? You know that there’s really nothing else we can do in this situation! It’s your word against his, and the video cameras only show proof of him passing by you, and then you throwing a big ass punch in his fucking face!” He cries, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.

“Look, Dr. Y/N, you did the right thing. The fucker deserved the punch, and you threw a good one. But,” he continues, placing his glasses back on his nose and patting your shoulder, “giving him the money is the best thing we could do for both the hospital and for you. So, just, take this next month off, get the community service done and then come right back. Alright? I’ll even let you head all the interesting cases that come into the operating room.”

He sighs, and walks off, leaving you behind. You roll your eyes and run a hand through your hair, fist clenching on the brochure of community service options for doctors.

The fucker had brought his girlfriend in during your shift at the emergency room, and while she was getting stitches for a cut that she got from a building collapse, in the craze of the emergency room, he was going around touching asses. You’d heard the nurses complaining about it, about how it was just a swipe of the hand that seemed like an accident, but multiple had the same experience from the same seedy-looking jerk.

When it was your turn to go up to the patient and explain that her stitches were done and she was alright to go home, he’d come up next to you and his knuckles grazed the skin of your ass. Sick of everything, you’d pushed him back and socked him straight in the face.

Later, from the cameras though, there was no visible evidence of him touching anyone, and it was your word against the clear security camera shot of you socking him right in his big ass nose. So you open the brochure and plop down at your desk to see what options there were. There were the general ones, where you could serve and clean up at a park or volunteer at a soup kitchen, and then there was a separate page for doctors who probably just wanted to maintain their skills in the field they volunteered in. You pick up the phone.

“What?” Yugyeom asks, “Chief seriously ended up giving you a probation period for community service?” He sighs over the phone, and you roll your eyes too.

“Yeah,” you huff, “which one should I do? I should sign up today, since it might take a bit to get approved and might as well start early so I can go back to work as soon as I get all my hours finished.”

He muses, probably scanning the picture you sent him. “Hm...well look, you can go travel to Africa or Cambodia or something. It’ll be like that one drama with Song Joong Ki in it. Maybe you’ll meet a hot military general. What do you think?”

“Too far,” you complain, taking a red pen and drawing a line through it. “Also, they don’t cover air fare or housing. Maybe something more local.”

“Okay, well then what about teaching kids in elementary and high school about general first aid and health? You can maybe meet a single teacher who’s good with kids. That’s kind of hot.”

“I fucking hate kids, Yug, you know that,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and crossing out that option. “Also, why are you trying to get me laid, you should be worried about your own empty gay love life.”

He huffs, “Well, bitch, if you’re gonna be so picky why’d you call. Just take the second to last one, the medic for the fire department! It’ll be fun, I know a friend who works in the one that’s close by to the hospital, so you can just commute from there and if you guys ever end up coming to the emergency room, you’ll see all of us there too.”

You hum, scanning through the brief description: Medic for the Seoul Fire Department. In-department housing and meals provided during both on-call and working hours. Needs basic EMT and paramedic skills. Must be able to handle emergency situations calmly and communicate with safety officers.

You purse your lips, scoffing a little bit at the emergency part. “Well, if there’s something I can handle, it’s emergency.”

He laughs, “What a downgrade...from a cardio surgeon to a paramedic. Jeez, you better get out of this one quick. Just make sure not to punch anyone during duty, and you’ll be fine.”

“Shut up bitch. Let’s go clubbing tonight. I need to let some of this stress out before I get trapped in there.”

The night was lively and the drinks kept flowing. Jennie and Jackson from Health and Nutrition, Sana from pediatrics, Yugyeom and Seulgi from Cardio, and even the oh-so-popular Jaebom and Jinyoung from general surgery came out.

You were dressed in the hottest dress you could find in Seulgi’s closet, and according to Yugyeom’s apparently “gay and therefore superior opinion,” your outfit and hair and makeup were basically a “straight guy’s ticket to bonertown.”

“Legit, how could you be so gay but also talk like such a frat boy at the same time?” You sneer, taking another shot of vodka.

He sucks on his lemon, and then flashes a smile. “It’s the best combination. I pull.”

He cocks his chin to a direction behind you. “Also seems like I was right, because you’ve been pulling too. That guys been staring ever since we got to the bar.”

You turn, blurry vision settling on a handsome, leather jacket clad guy that’s sitting with two other guys at the table. He’s looking now, eyebrow cocked and lip between his teeth. He’s not usually your type, but you feel it. This, was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

You get up, patting Yugyeom on the arm. “Thanks, I’ll take myself home tonight.” He whistles behind you as you try your best to make your way to the guy, but suddenly your drunk ass hobbles on your Forever 21 heels, and you topple to the side. All of a sudden, there’s a strong hand gripping your upper arm and pulling you up, and an arm wrapping around your waist to offer support.

“Oh shit, miss, you alright?” A low voice sounds right next to your ear. You look up, expecting to see the leather jacket guy, but this...this was much better. This guy was dressed in only a black t-shirt tucked into blue jeans. But his simple ensemble didn’t matter. He was tall, way taller than you in your tallest heels, and he smelled so damn good. His hair was slicked up and his skin absolutely golden. He wasn’t biting his lip or doing anything to try and hook up with you, but in seconds, you were sopping wet.

No, this was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

“I will be,” you answer him, straightening up and pressing yourself up against him. “when you buy me a drink.”

He seems to understand what you’re getting at. He chuckles a bit, eyebrow quirking and you think it’s the hottest shit you’ve ever seen since waterproof scrubs. He helps you straighten up. “I think you’ve had enough drinks already. Can I get you some water?”

“Yes,” you breathe, but not letting go. “But only if you stay with me until I’m finished.”

He smiles, and keeps his hand on your waist as he guides you the bar and orders a cup of water. You sit on the single empty bar stool, and he stands, and you revel in the fact that even on this tall bar stool, he still stands taller than you.

You sip the water, and he leans an elbow on the bar, inches from you.

“So, what brings you stumbling into this bar?”

“I’m here with some coworkers,” you say, and he leans in closer to hear you over the loud music.

“Won’t they be looking for you?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” You pout, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Hell no, I’m just worried.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead.” You fire back, and he laughs again.

“You gonna keep laughing at my jokes or are you gonna ask me to come home with you?” You raise your brows as you sip your water, looking at him over the rim. His expression darkens, but the corner of his mouth sexily turns up.

“I might laugh a little more just to tease, I suppose. Helps build up for later.” He leans up, hand on the bar, but steps a bit closer to you this time. If you leaned up a bit, you’d kiss. He chuckles again, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He smiles and leans down, other hand cradling your waist as you reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling harshly when he slides his tongue into your mouth as soon as you open up for him.

He’s a good kisser. He knows how to move his lips, knows when to pull back to leave you wanting for more, and does that thing where he stops kissing to just peck wetly at your lips before sinking in for more. Hook, line, and sinker. You’re done. “Let’s get out of here, please,” you whimper against his lips, and he smiles, straightening up.

“As you wish. Oh, also what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you shout over the music. “What about you?”

“You can call me Joon.” He smirks.

The ride to his apartment is blurry, because all you remember is a lot of giggling and trying not to moan at how his hand is so big around your thigh that you have you physically restrain yourself from jumping him on the highway right there. The tires screech as he parks and you both laugh as you stumble into the elevator, giving the security guards watching the cameras a show when you straight up make out with him in the corner of the elevator, his hand up your dress and your hand up his shirt.

He pushes you against his closed door, dropping his keys and jacket on the ground as he undoes the zipper on your dress. You tug at his shirt, “Off,” you whine, and he smiles, stepping back to whip his shirt off with one hand behind his neck.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” you whimper, and he kisses you breathless. “You’ve been saying that all night. Creative, much?”

“Fuck off, I don’t do hook ups much and I’m just telling the truth,” you say, as he gathers you in his arms and literally picks you up and heads to his bedroom. His hands squeeze your ass as he makes his way over, and you catch a glimpse of a neat, tidy living room. His bedroom is clean too, especially for a bachelor. Navy blue sheets, sleek, black furniture, expensive looking place. He was literally so fucking hot.

He drops you on the bed and immediately drapes over you, his jeans rubbing against your soaked panties. He slides his splayed palms up from your waist up to your breasts, mouth following the motion as he laves his tongue over your nipple, palm gently cupping the weight of your breasts in the grip between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. You preen at the sensation, back arching off the bed. “Pants off,” you pant, squirming underneath the warmth of his hands and mouth.

“So bossy,” he comments, smirking as he leans up on his knees to undo his belt. “I dig that.”

You lay back, taking the time to wiggle out of your soaked panties. You thank the gods you chose to wear your new set of lace undies because the rest of your drawer was basically an ocean of white granny panties. He finally drapes back over you, hand gripping your thigh to open you up as he mouths at your neck.

You retaliate by reaching down and gripping his cock, hand squeezing at his base. You can’t really see it because your face is nestled in his shoulder, but you can feel how hard and big he is. He groans at the sensation, nipping at the sensitive skin behind your ear, sending tingles down your spine and your core clenching around nothing.

He props himself up as he looks down at you and slides a finger between your folds. Your yelp dissolves into a drawn out moan. “Oh my god,” you pant, as he slides the flat of two fingers over your bundle of nerves, “please don’t stop that.” You also work your fist over his cock, mouth blubbering nonsense into his neck. He moves the fingers down into your pussy, sliding in with practically no resistance and slowly drawing them in and out your wetness. You don’t really have much time to be embarrassed by the wetness you can hear, because Joon closes his eyes and bites at the soft skin at the top of your breast.

“Shit,” he grits, and he looks down to see the way your wetness glistens on his fingers, “I don’t think I can wait. Are you good?”

You nod eagerly, and you let go of him as he gives you a hard kiss on the mouth and slides a condom on while still fingering you. Its probably not porn-worthy whatever sounds you’re making, but it seems to do the trick because he kisses you even harder and then flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting in his lap. He cradles your waist and descends on your breasts again, tongue circling your sensitive nubs as you sink down on him inch by inch.

When you bottom out, you clench around him. He’s so long and thick, and it’s been a while since your last hook up. It borders on soreness, but the sensation of him moaning with your nipple in between his lips is enough of a distraction for you to work up the nerve to start moving.

It’s embarrassing how turned on right now you are, but Joon seems to be at the same level of deliriousness because he doesn’t stop touching you. From gripping your thighs, to groping your ass, sliding his hands from your waist up to your ribs, tangling in your hair, gently curling around your neck and tightening slightly, he’s literally everywhere.

“Fuck,” you cry out when one of his hands are around your neck, squeezing lightly. You slow down, grinding instead of bouncing, and the new rhythm puts your clit in that perfect position to get stimulated by his pelvis, and his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you that you find yourself hurtling over the edge much faster than you’d imagined.

He mouths at your cheek and ear, hand still around your neck when you cum, and suddenly he grips your thigh and presses you down against his pillows as he kneels in front of you and begins fucking you hard. The bed knocks against the wall, but you can’t care because the new position has your orgasm prolonged to a point that you’ve never felt before and your mouth just stays open in a mouthless cry against his chest as he tenses and finishes into the condom, mouth panting hoarse compliments into your ear. “Holy shit, your pussy feels so good. So tight, fuck.”

He pulls out and rolls over so he’s not crushing you, and you let out a final breath. “Wow,” you say, chest heaving as he ties the condom and throws it away. He props his head up on an elbow, grinning at you. “That good?” He says cockily, and you turn to lightly punch his chest.

“Don’t get too cocky. It was just one orgasm.”

“But also seems like the best you’ve ever had.” He adds. You roll your eyes and retort, “Well, that’s what you think--,” but your laugh dissolves into a moan again when he reaches over and pulls you underneath him to press a long, wet kiss to your mouth.

“Shut up,” he whispers between kisses, "and kiss me back already.” You smile as he kisses you, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, and scratching lightly at his shoulder blades. He growls, and moves to your neck. You sigh as he draws more open-mouthed kisses down your neck and torso, and again when a big hand splays over your thigh to hook it over his shoulder. He presses a peck against your folds and looks up at you, and you mewl as he draws the flat of his tongue thickly through your pussy all the way up. You’re a goner.

“I’m gonna make sure you never forget my name.”

The walk of shame isn’t so bad when you basically have no time to waste as you gather your things and glance once back at Joon who’s still sleeping before running down to his lobby. You don’t really care for the disapproving looks you get, as you rush to get into your uber, and immediately thank god that this particular driver offers you a tiny complimentary water bottle. You chug it down, and try not to throw up.

You literally hurtle out of the car when he gets to your place, making a mental note to tip him heftily, seeing the way he booked it when you asked him to hurry a little. You step into a hot shower and don’t even have time to pick up the dirty clothes off the floor as you quickly dress in a white shirt and navy skirt and run out of your apartment to the bus stop.

Thankfully, you make it on time to your interview, and even though the captain gives a small disapproving look to your wet hair tips, he gives you a huge,  bright smile when you tell him you’re a cardio surgeon “taking a break.” When you told him that you used to work as a paramedic before medical school a few years ago, he basically hired you on the spot, babbling on about how much he loves people with more experience.

“So, miss Y/N, what are your interests, your hobbies?” Hoseok trails like a little puppy after you as you walk down the hall from the Fire Captain’s office to your team’s multipurpose room. You frown at him. “Eh,” you brush him off, “not much.”

He smiles, pushing his hair back from his face and trying to stand up tall, “Well, doctor, I love lifting weights and saving damsels in distress. What are you doing later, say, around 5?” You turn on your heel, and he bumps into you, scuttling backwards at the glare you have on your face.

“Look, honey,” you sneer, stepping towards him with a scowl, “You’re cute, but I’m hungover.” you say, scanning him up and down, “And I’m only here for a month and I swear if I have to spend the entire 30 days having you chase me down like a little pet, then I’m probably going to just jump off a building. Okay? So do me a favor, and stop asking me out.”

He gawks at you, and then recovers. “Wait...you’re only here for a month?”

Rolling your eyes, you resume walking towards the wait room. He wasn’t going to stop. “Yes, I’m here just to serve a short community service sentence.”

He hums, following your footsteps again, grinning. “Okay, fine. I won’t try to ask you out. I’ll just keep replaying the part where you said I’m cute over and over again in my head.” He winks at you lightheartedly.

“Here, let me introduce you to the guys.” He walks a bit faster than you as you approach the room, and creaks the door open and lets you in.

As soon as the door swings open, your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight in front of you. In the room, theres a half naked guy digging through the refrigerator, his firefighter’s outfit hanging around his hips. A pair of muscular large ones are wrestling in the corner, also only decked in sweatpants low on their hips. One lounges on the couch in a pair of glasses and a plain white t-shirt and navy uniform pants and boots, while a similarly dressed shorter one is asleep. A tall one is in the corner playing with a tiny puppy. All six of them swivel their heads towards you when you enter.

You wave awkwardly and take a step back to leave when Hoseok bounds in after you and throws an arm around your shoulder, announcing proudly, “Hey guys, this is the new medic hire! Dr. L/N!”  

The one closest to you gives you a smile, taking off his glasses and setting his book aside to reach out a hand. “Hey, I’m Seokjin, captain. Nice to meet you doctor!” He smiles and you make a note of how hot he looks in glasses and how broad his shoulders were.

“You can just call me by my first name, y/n,” you shake his hand, “Likewise.”

Another one that was digging through the fridge approaches you with a piece of gummy candy hanging from his lips. His face is sharp, but he breaks out in a huge smile that lights up his face. “Taehyung! Hi y/n, welcome to Unit 55!”

You shake his hand too, “Thanks. Do you have any firewomen?” You glance around as the pair who were wrestling stop their antics and approach you shyly. The taller one shrugs, his muscles rippling as he does and you make a huge effort not to stare. “No, honestly it’s really hard to find a firewoman these days and they probably don’t like spending time with all guys like us either.”

Taehyung leans over. “That’s Jungkook by the way.”

His partner punches Jungkook’s bicep and turns to you with a show-stopping smile. Oh. The girls would swoon for both of them, you note. They’ll have no problem finding firewomen who want to spend all day with them. “I’m Jimin. And even though this idiot makes us sound like a bunch of goons, it’s just rough being around 7 guys all the time for girls probably. But we’ll do our best to help you get comfortable around here. We’re really fun, I promise!”

You frown, glancing around the room and counting the people you’d met already. Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin. Which left just the one still asleep somehow through all the commotion on the couch. Seeing your eyes trail over him, Seokjin looks at you over the rims of his glasses, pointing at the sleeping figure with his chin. “Oh, yeah. That’s Yoongi. Good thing he’s not awake cause he’s really grouchy, but he’s also a really good driver so we keep him. You should meet him later when he’s done with his nap.”

You laugh a little, and nod. “And the 7th?”

Jungkook throws on a shirt as he talks. “Namjoon, our unit Battalion Chief. He’s not here right now, but you’ll be able to meet him later. He basically runs this whole thing.”

“Oh I see,” you muse, and give a tight-lipped smile. “Well, maybe I’ll start moving my things in soon. Can you show me my room?”

“Bitch,” Yugyeom sneers as he watches open-mouthed as the guys help unload your car at the station. “You didn’t tell me that all your co-workers were single, hot guys that walked around shirtless all the time.” He frowns at you, ignoring your eye roll, and then switching 180 degrees and laughing and smiling when Taehyung walks by with all your heavy trunks in his arms.

“Hahahaha, Y/N, you’re so funny,” he fakes, and then turns to you with a glint in his eye. “Maybe I should’ve punched that idiot in the face too and I would’ve been here instead.” He hisses, gawking at the way Jungkook and Jimin both easily haul your mattress up the steps. Shirtless, by the way. Again.

You sigh. “It’s only for a month. And honestly, you’re such a fake ass little bitch. You were the one trying to find me a man, and now that I’m surrounded by them, you resent me for it?” you huff. “Oh, Jin, those drawers just go in the closet, thank you.”

“No problem Y/N,” Seokjin grins, pushing up his glasses as he walks past you two easily, holding up the chest of drawers that took both you and Yugyeom an entire twenty minutes to shove in the moving truck. You give him a smile in return and turn back to Yug with a snort. “Wipe your drool.” You laugh, and he closes his mouth with a clack.

“I’ll literally visit you, like all the time, Y/N,” he whispers.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh also,” he turns to you inquisitively. “What happened last weekend? Did you end up going home with that hot guy?”

You pull him closer. “Keep your voice down,” you hiss. “Yes. I fucked him.”

He whistles lowly. “He wasn’t that good?”

Sighing, you check to make sure all the other boys aren’t in the vicinity. “No, that’s the problem. He was too good. I can’t stop thinking about it. Haven’t had a proper orgasm since.”

He looks unsurprised. “Well, when’s the last time you got laid. College?”

“Shut up, asshole,” you frown, “It’s only been like...a few months.”

“Okay, so I guess we’re calling last year’s during our we’re-not-interns-anymore-party a ‘couple months’ ago. It was like 13 months ago.” He points out, and you glare at him.

“Fine,” you snap, “okay? It’s been, like a year. But he was really good, no matter how deprived I’ve been.”

Yugyeom still looks unimpressed, so you pull his sleeve down to whisper in his ear. “I had five orgasms that night.”

He straightens up, turning to you with wide eyes, “FIVE ORGASMS?”

You wince as chief walks by with a stern look, and you pinch Yugyeom in the side as you laugh, “Oh hahahaha, Yugyeom, you’re such a hilarious guy. Why would a patient even talk about those kinds of horrible things in the waiting room?!”

That seems to help as the chief’s expression lightens and he smiles as he grabs a cup of coffee and ascends the stairs again. You drop the smile as soon as the chief is out of earshot and punch Yugyeom hard.

“Little bitch,” you hiss, “are you trying to get me fired?”

He rubs the spot that you punched. “Ow, and no. I’m just shocked. Did you even get his number or something?”

You sigh, watching as the boys come back down to retrieve a couple more things. “No,” you say forlornly, “I literally had to run out for my interview. I only know his name, and I’m not even sure if its right.”

Yugyeom sighs, watching Jungkook and Jimin banter as they come back down.

“Well, at least you have guys like them to keep you company. Did you bring your vibrator along?”

You pinch him again.

With the help of the boys, moving in wasn’t a problem. Surprisingly, the bunk rooms aren’t at all what you’d expected. It was less of a college dorm room style, and more of like a communal housing unit. Apparently, the Seoul station had updated their housing recently, so the inside looked like a newly furnished office hotel, basically.

Jimin was nice enough to move into Hoseok’s room so that you could have the corner room all to yourself, with a private bath attached. It was adequately sized, but there was a nice closet and twin size bed attached, which was an upgrade from the dinky communal on-call room bunk beds that the hospital provided for the residents to sleep in.

There wasn’t even much to unpack, besides a few articles of clothing, a desk and computer for you to do some catching up on hospital paperwork, a mattress so you could sleep on without knots in your back, and your toiletries. You had a uniform anyway, and you were pretty low maintenance. The hospital shifts didn’t really give much space or time to pay attention to your fashion sense or your looks, and it wasn’t going to change now, either.

You make your way downstairs after finishing, with the stairs of course. The boys had kept trying to convince you that you won’t die if you try the pole, but honestly you weren’t down to break your ankle, especially when you were expected to help during an emergency situation. The stairs were fine. You were only on the second floor anyway.

The boys are already eating in the large lounge, and you see that the sleepy fireman had woken up and had starting to cook.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls, scooting his chair over to make room for you at the center of their table. “Here!”

You smile and set down your phone, taking a seat as Taehyung brings you a tray. Its pasta and steak, with a huge side salad and green beans. You gape at the cook who’s still engrossed in tasting and perfecting the sauce for the pasta.

“Yoongi hyung’s a really good cook,” Jimin says, with a mouthful of salad and steak. With that, the man in question appears behind the younger firefighter and hands him a cup of water. “Don’t eat and talk at the same time. It’s disgusting.” He says with a curled lip, and then gives you a nod.

“You’re the new paramedic hire right?” He asks.

You nod, “Hi, yes. I’m Y/N.” He shakes your hand, nods, and turns away. “Not much of a talker, is he?” You say, and the boys chuckle.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, “Yoongi’s not really an extroverted type. But he’ll warm up to you, just give it time.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. You have to sit in your room for a couple hours though, watching boredly through the instructional training online lessons you had to complete before starting your first day. You’re close to dozing off when a soft knock sounds.

“Yes!” You sit up and turn, and Jungkook appears, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Y/N! What you doin’?”

You stick a thumb at your computer, “Training videos,” you sigh, curling your lip. “Why?”

“Oh, hyungs and I are gonna watch a movie. If you wanna come sit with us in the lounge and do your training or just watch with us, you’re welcome to!”

You pause. “Won’t it be loud? I probably won’t be able to get anything done.”

“I’m pretty sure Seokjin hyung has done basic training before. He can probably give you all the answers to those end-of-lecture quizzes.”

Now there was your incentive to go. You smile, standing up and closing your laptop. “Why didn’t you say that sooner? Let’s go.”

He guides you down to where the lounge is and all the boys chime a nice “hello” or “y/n!” when you appear in the doorway. You can see that a new episode of Game of Thrones is on. You pad over to Seokjin and he smiles when you ask him for the favor, and moves seats to the couch behind so you can sit with him and watch at the same time.

The night goes smoothly, you tapping Seokjin everytime you finish a lesson and him pausing to quickly finish the quizzes, and you joining in with the debates about the show occasionally. Yoongi brings out some snacks, and eventually Jimin brings out a blanket for you, and by the end of the episode, your training is finished and you’re sipping on soda and eating pizza.

It’s nice, you think, a lot nicer than the hospital. You were used to the competitive nature of medicine. It was always competing against the other residents or interns to get a spot that had ridiculously low acceptance rates. There was always no time to relax. This wasn’t bad at all.

But you shake your head. This was temporary. A break. No need to get attached. They’re just being hospitable. You give a tight lipped smile as the episode ends and you take your laptop and blanket with you as you stand. “Thanks, guys, for inviting me. I’m gonna turn in tonight.” you say, slowly shuffling away. “Good night!” Taehyung yells, and the other boys chime in one by one.

You set your stuff down in your room and get ready for bed. Laying in your single bed, with no one else snoring or sleep talking, and with no post-surgery fatigue to get you straight to sleep, it’s hard. You end up staring up at the ceiling of your room, sighing as you try to think of the most boring topics in the world to try and get to sleep.

“Just a few weeks, y/n.” you murmur, turning onto your side.

You’re finally dozing off when suddenly, the intercom you had no idea was located right outside your door bursts to life. “Code 904B Building Fire. Code 904B Building Fire.”

You scramble up, throwing your covers back as you stick your head out into the hallway. The lights are flashing brightly, but you can hear the sounds of the boys in each room getting ready. The first one out into the hallway is Taehyung, and he jogs up to you. “Put on your uniform, y/n,” he pants, “and meet us downstairs as soon as possible. We gotta go, and since it’s a building fire, there might be a few injuries you can help us with.”

“Okay,” you nod, as the rest of the boys begin appearing in the hallway with navy shirts on and their firemen overalls already on. They one by one disappear down the pole and you scramble to get the paramedic bodysuit on. You pull on your boots hastily and then sprint down the stairs, and see the chief addressing everyone.

“Alright, Yoongi and half of you in car 1, and the rest of you in mine. Namjoon is already in his way from his meeting, so he’ll meet us there. Let’s go!” The boys break out into jogs as they hurriedly begin packing the hoses tightly and jumping into the cars. “Chief,” you call out, “Where can I go?”

“Go with Yoongi!” He yells, and drives off, sirens wailing. You jump into the first car and immediately you’re surprised when Yoongi, usually lethargic and slow, slams on the accelerator and your own truck bolts into life. Stumbling into a seat, you ask Hoseok, “So, this is how it always happens?”

He nods solemnly, his usual playful smile gone. “24/7. We gotta stay alert.” You nod. He points to a large, bright orange utility box in the corner of the bus. “That’s your medic kit. You can look through it now if you want, we’ll be getting to the site in a few minutes.”

You nod, perching the box on the seat next to you and digging through it. It was pretty basic, syringes, bottles of lidocaine and epinephrine for stitch jobs, synthetic thread, scalpels, bandaids, alcohol, gauze, and more. You were used to working with the minimum at the emergency room. And seemed like whoever was in charge of this box had kept it neatly and pretty well-stocked. You lock the box when the truck begins to slow, and look out the window to see the commotion.

A large building has caught on fire, and already there are two other trucks unloading at the site, their firefighters already hooking up their hoses onto the fire hydrants and assembling into position to enter the building for any remaining people. The whole area smells like smoke and through it, the glow of the orange fire against the night sky is barely visible.

Immediately as the truck parks, the boys in the vehicle spring to motion. Their uniforms are already on, helmets, gloves, and oxygen tanks and all. One by one they jog out the door of the truck and do the same, unloading the hose from the side of the firetruck and linking it easily to the fire hydrant and getting ready to spray down the building.

You pull your hair back into a ponytail and look around for anyone who might be in need of help. There’s already a few survivors out around the area in the grass, and you run over to a woman laying down.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” You say as you approach her and kneel next to her. Her husband is crying. “Sir! Is she okay? What happened?”

“P-please! We were just picking up our son and then the burning piece of wood fell on her leg. No one has been able to h-help her yet! Our son is still in that building, too!”

You unlocked your box and reassured him, “Okay, sir, I need you to calm down and help me. Someone will go find your son, but we need to help your wife right now. Do you have a phone on you? Can you use the flashlight? I need to see the area.”

He does as you instruct with shaky hands, and you carefully use the scissors in the kit to cut a strip down her pants. The burn is quite bad and covers a lot of surface area, in addition to having a huge laceration down her thigh that needs to be stitched up now, in case of infection or bleeding out. You frown, she must have been in a lot of pain.

“Ma’am, can you understand me? This is going to be a bit painful, but I need to sanitize the area.”

She’s just sobbing at this point, but you can make out some words. “Please,” she sobs, “M-my s-son!”

You lean closer, “Sorry? Your son?”

She sobs and nods, “H-he’s still inside!!” She pushes your hands away from her leg, “I won’t be treated until I find him!”

You sigh, turning around to see if there are any firefighters available. You see one coming out of the building to replace his oxygen tank. You run up to him, unable to see anything but his eyes through the protective gear he was wearing.

“Hey! Hey, this woman I’m trying to treat is refusing treatment until she sees her son, and she claims he’s still inside. Please, if she doesn’t let me treat it right now, she might have to amputate her leg.” He nods, and follows you to the couple.

When they see him approaching, the woman goes hysterical. “Please!” She screams, “He’s still in there, on the second floor. I haven’t seen anyone bring him out!”

“Okay, ma’am, I’m going to go back inside for him. You need to calm down, and let this lady treat your leg, or else it could get worse. You need to stay strong for your son.”

She nods, and turns to you. You spring into action, giving the firefighter a nod as he stands. You frown, his voice sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint it.

The lady begins wailing as the adrenaline fades and the pain of her injury begins to hit. You have her husband hold her hand as you pour some alcohol on the area and she wails as the open cut is cleaned out.

Quickly, you stitch up the wound and dress the burns so that they’re manageable. She refuses to take the ambulance to the hospital until she sees her son, so you coax her into just sitting on the gurney in the ambulance and wait for her son. You try and calm down the couple as you move onto address a few more people in the vicinity with minor cuts, scrapes, and burns.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion, and you turn to the building that’s now less of a bonfire and more of a quiet smolder, and the firefighter from earlier emerges with something in his arms.

The woman you had treated earlier immediately starts wailing and crying as the firefighter jogs over to you and her and sets a boy down onto a gurney. He’s unconscious, and the firefighter whips off his helmet as he addresses you.

“He’s breathed in quite a bit of smoke, and fell unconscious when I picked him up. He needs pediatric CPR!”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok cries out.

You gawk as you watch him yell instructions at you and the rest of the firefighters you’d met, brows furrowing and eyes widening as you recognize those slanted eyes, thick lips and angled jawline that you’d run your tongue over that one fateful night. It was Joon. He was a firefighter. His name was Namjoon.

“Y/N!” He grabs you by the shoulders, “Focus!”

You immediately spring into action, running towards the boy and checking his pulse. “Do you know how to do compressions on a pediatric patient?” You breathe, and Joon nods, throwing his helmet and his tank aside and opening the buttons on his uniform jacket before he climbs atop the gurney.

As he begins compressions, you deliver some shots on his arm and search his body for any large cuts or burns. You hook him up to an oxygen mask and turn up the machine to high. “Switch!” You call out, and your hands replace Joon’s as you climb atop him and begin compressions.

“One, two, three...” You count out, as other paramedics swarm around you to prepare him to be delivered to the hospital as soon as possible.

The boy stirs, and you stop compressing, and watches as he begins coughing, from deep within, and you help remove his oxygen mask and pull him up to a sitting position as he continues coughing the smoke and ash out of his lungs. A paramedic gives him some water and after the boy finishes coughing, you help him sip some water as he recovers.

The others help usher him onto a gurney and also help his mother and father join the ambulance.

You watch as the blaring sirens fade away and sigh as the remaining firefighters douse the building in water and put out the flames. Your knees are feeling weak, your heart up in your throat, and your breath short.

Feeling a presence standing next to you, you turn and meet eyes with him. You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a once over from his ash-stained angular face to the bulky equipment and uniform lining his body. Probably from the boots he was wearing, he seemed even taller than from the club.

He gives you a cocky grin. “So, you’re a paramedic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, stopping down to collect your materials and all the wrappers of the syringes and needles you had used to treat your patients.

“Not a paramedic, a doctor. On voluntary community service.” You huff.

He stoops down too, setting his helmet aside to help with your tools. “No wonder you’re good with your hands.”

You stop, sitting on your haunches to give him a look. He does the same, matching your cold gaze with a smirk. “I think that’s very unprofessional, Mr. Joon.”

You stand, locking the paramedic box angrily and stomp away.

But he easily catches up to you, having those damned long legs of his, and follows you to your truck. It makes you angrier that he begins unloading his equipment and uniform off into the same truck you came in.

“I think, Y/N, the moment you started making out with me at that club, professionalism was kind of thrown out the window, don’t you think? You disappear that morning without a trace, and then suddenly you appear again at my workplace. Don’t you think I have the right to be a bit confused and curious?”

“Look.” You turn to him. “That was a one-night thing. I told you that I don’t do them often, and it was a mistake and I’m sorry, I won’t do that to you again. So just--” you throw your hands into the air, frustrated that he looked so goddamn good as he took off his thick outer coat and stood in front of you with just a black t-shirt and the pants of his uniform low on his hips. “--just pretend it didn’t happen. Just forget about it.”

You turn to walk away into the truck, but he stops you. “Wait! Wait wait wait, Y/N,” he turns to face you, the smirk wiped away and now brows attractively collecting in a frown, “For the record, I don’t consider that night as a mistake.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen as you frown up at him.

He doesn’t look away. The playfulness has dropped and he’s completely serious as his voice takes a lower tone.

“Sleeping with you wasn’t a mistake for me. Don’t apologize. I’ve only been able to think about you since then, and I don’t think that you showing up here out of all the other precincts or departments is another mistake, either. I’m sorry if I came on too strong, but I want to be clear with you that my intentions are to get to know you better, and do it the right way.”

“Do what the right way?”

“Date you,” he says simply, like he was talking about the goddamn weather.

Literally, who was this guy? Your mind was completely blank. Like, who just says exactly what they’re thinking? How could he just be so...honest? What’s his game?

You blubber out the first thing that comes to mind. “I don’t date co-workers. Especially here. I’m only scheduled to volunteer for several weeks.”

He seems to gain a bit of confidence. “Y/N, that sounds more like an excuse, than it does a reason.”

You huff, blowing your hair out of the way. “Nonetheless, the answer is no.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Don’t be surprised if I ask you again.”

And he does.

Every. Single. Day.

When you wake up, “Hey, Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

“No,” you’d say, roll your eyes, and spit out your toothpaste.

When you’re in the library, reading up on the latest studies. He’ll pop his head in and say, “Oh, Y/N, dinner’s ready.”

When you look up and nod, “Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

He’ll nod back, and then say, “Oh by the way, will you go on a date with me?”

You’d learned to just laugh it off or ignore him.

When you’re in the dining commons. You’ll be chatting with Taehyung about something and Namjoon will walk by, hand you a mug of coffee, and walk away without a word. When you lift the coffee up to drink it after Taehyung leaves for something, you find a slip of paper on the saucer.

Will you go on a date with me?

You crumple up the paper while maintaining eye contact and drop it into the steaming cup of coffee. Then, you stand, and pour the mug out into the trash, while he watches with an amused smirk.

The only times he doesn’t ask you out is when you’re on calls.

Over the next few weeks, you notice that Namjoon has three modes: 1) His Chief mode, 2) his off-duty mode, and 3) his flirting-with-you mode. Modes 2 and 3 tended to mix, especially when he was with you.

But whenever that light on the walls of the department begin to ring and flash, indicating an emergency call, Namjoon immediately enters his chief-mode. One time, he was in the middle of taunting you with probable bad-date ideas, the lights began flashing and you had watched as he shook himself out of his off-duty mode, and immediately started barking out orders to the group and you, responding to the dispatch on his walkie-talkie. It had happened in a millisecond.

You were in the lounge with Seokjin and Jimin, watching a movie while Yoongi dozed off in one of the couches. You had slowly begun to easily sink into this lifestyle. You guys were lucky if you got at least a few hours in between calls to relax, and since the most recent call was a small issue with some old lady’s cat up in a tree, Hoseok and Taehyung had volunteered to go on their own. It was a relaxing Thursday afternoon.

Like clockwork, right as you were almost dozing off, the lights began to flash and blare as your walkie-talkies exploded to life and the dispatch officer began reading out the issue.

The boys spring to life, immediately jumping over to the pole and going downstairs to change into their uniforms. You sigh and use the stairs to run down to the garage and get into your uniform, clambering into the truck as Namjoon begins listing out orders. It was a gas leak in a chemical factory, and they wanted the firemen to take care of it. You were only following for protocol.

“It shouldn’t be too complicated. Yoongi, did you contact the engineers to shut off the power?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, they turned off all electricity, but they can’t turn off the gas valve. It’s stuck.”

“Okay, that’ll be the first thing to take care of. Jungkook, can you take care of that?”

You watch as the firetrucks pull in and follow the men into the warehouse. It’s completely dark but they all turn on their headlights as they treck through.

Namjoon leads them into the main gas chamber where one of the tanks is steadily leaking a stream of cold, compressed air out of it. Him and Jungkook immediately head over and begin working together to tighten the valve, while Seokjin begins looking for the pipe that leads into the tank.

You watch, boredly as the men do their thing, when suddenly, Jungkook yanks a bit too hard and both him and Namjoon are thrown back.

Jungkook immediately begins yelling out, and you scramble up in horror to see that he’d been thrown back into a piece of metal that was sticking out.

“Oh my god,” you cry out as you rush to his side. “Jungkook, hold on, I got you. Can you turn on your side so I can see the wound better?”

He moves while wincing in pain, but manages to maneuver so that the wound on his back is facing you. Using a flashlight, you make sure that the metal didn’t pierce any vital organs or arteries, and reassure him that it’s okay as you begin cleaning and stitching up the wound. After you’re finished, you look up to see Seokjin run into the room, and let you all know that he’d disassembled the valve and fixed the leak.

You sigh in relief as you cut the final thread and place some gauze over the stitches. Hoseok and Jimin had returned to help, and they throw Jungkook’s arms over their shoulders as they help him walk out of the building. You begin to pack your things, when you see Namjoon lagging behind the rest of the group, clutching his arm.

You catch up to him, “Hey, are you okay?”

He winces, but nods at you to go. “I’m fine. Catch up with the rest of them. I’ll be right behind you.”

You frown as you survey his features. The boys are now out of sight and you and Namjoon are the only ones left inside the chamber. “No, you don’t look very okay. Did you get hurt?”

He finally relents, groaning in pain as you guide him to sit down on some steps and remove his jacket. You gasp as his t-shirt comes off. Jungkook had been impaled when he hit the wall as he was thrown back, but it seemed that Namjoon had been in the direct line of contact when the valve of the pipe had blown off. It had sliced through his uniform and left quite a deep cut in his rib.

“Holy shit, Namjoon, you are not okay. Let me stitch this up right now.”

He shakes his head, “Let’s get out of here, first.”

You push him back. “If you keep moving, this wound is too close to your vital organs and it might cause infection or you might bleed out. Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

He shakes his head as you begin unpacking your box of materials. For the first time in your few weeks at the department, you see a dark look of shame and regret written over his face. “I was the one who asked Jungkook to help me, if I didn’t, he wouldn’t be hurt.”

You click your tongue at him as you clean the wound, apologizing as he hisses in pain at the contact of alcohol. “You know, you say a lot of stupid shit, but that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard you say to me. Ever.”

He laughs a little at that, wincing as it puts pressure on his side. You glare at him as you examine the wound and begin numbing the surrounding skin. “You’re a great chief, you know that. I’m administering some pretty heavy painkillers. Tell me when you start getting a bit woozy.”

He just silently watches you hover over his torso, squinting as you maneuver the hook needle and stitch him up. “I think that’s the first time you ever complimented me, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now your chief mode is off, I guess.”

He furrows his brows. “Chief mode?”

You nod, snipping at the threads as you begin another stitch.

“You have these modes you enter on the job. One of them is when you become this intense, no-nonsense leader, telling us all what to do and what to get done.”

He smiles, “And the other mode?”

“There’s two actually,” you say, still focused on his wound, “There’s one that’s always flirting with me, and there’s a third, where I can see that you really, really care for everyone on this team. That third one is the mode you’re in.”

“Are you maybe getting turned on by that mode, Y/N?” He winks at you, and you laugh, poking him in his side and making him groan out as you finish dressing the clean wound and help him get his uniform jacket back on. “Shut up, now your flirty mode is back on too.”

You’re cleaning up the materials in your box when suddenly, the lights come back on, bright white, and as you and Namjoon are squinting to try and reassess your surroundings, the huge gate to the chamber closes with a hissing noise and a loud clang.

“Shit,” you hear Namjoon cuss, and you scramble up, running over to the door and searching for a handle, a knob, or a button, anything to get it back open. You click your walkie-talkie, waiting for the static to sound to let you know that it’s communicating, but there’s nothing.

“No use,” he winces, zipping up his jacket, “The company probably just turned the electricity on when they saw some of the trucks leaving.”

You watch in horror as the vents surrounding you begin hissing and cold air begins drafting in. “What is this?”

“It’s a containment chamber for flammable chemicals, so I assume that it stays at a cool temperature. It’s fine, some of the boys will probably realize we’re here and be back in no time.” He lays down against the steps.

“Namjoon!” You scramble over, “Do not fall asleep, do you hear me? The temperature dropping is going to make your wound even worse. You need to stay warm, stand up if you can.”

He frowns, curling into himself with a pout. “I’m cold.”

You roll your eyes. It was the painkillers kicking in. He was getting lethargic, and it could kill him. “I know, you big fat baby, but if we don’t start warming up, we might die in here. C’mon, stand up.”

He begins moving around, although you instruct him not to stress his wound, he begins rocking around on his legs to try and make some body heat. You do the same, waving your arms around and trying to generate some heat.

At one point, you lose complete sense of time, and Namjoon wakes up from the initial wave of his painkillers to find the both of you huddled in the corner of the chamber, knees curled into your torsos as you shiver in the cold.

“Y-Y/N,” he breathes, and reality dawns on him as he sees the mist of his breath fan out from his mouth. “Y/N?”

“S-s-so cold,” you chatter, curling into him as he puts his good arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“D-don’t fall asleep,” he breathes, and you don’t respond, the chills rocking your entire shaking body as you curl into him further.

The walkie-talkie screeches for a moment, and Namjoon grabs it, responding back to the static. “H-hello? Anyone! Y/N and I are stuck in the main chamber! Temperature is dropping quickly. Hello?!”

The only response is static as he drops the walkie-talkie to just pull you in closer. “Y/N?”

There’s no response, and when he pulls back to try and look at you, your head lulls in his arms.

“Shit,” he mutters, “Y/N, Y/N!” He shakes you, but you’re completely unconscious in his arms. "Wake up!”

“No no no no no,” he chants, as he begins undressing, his whole body resisting the motions as he shivers in the cold, but he perseveres. He pulls his uniform open, baring his chest, and then proceeds to unbutton your uniform as well, baring a t-shirt underneath. He pulls your limp body close as he removes the t-shirt and then completely drapes himself over you, pressing your bare chests together as he pulls you tight against him, skin to skin.

He pulls the uniform tighter around your back so that you don’t lose any more body heat, when he finally hears yelling and pounding on the other side of the huge gate. He hugs you closer to himself before everything goes black, too.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 70 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Raja and Raven had a little office tryst, Violet planned for some overtime, and Courtney decided to take her work to Bianca’s for the night.

This Chapter: Bianca worries, Dahlia and Adore have a showdown, Gigi and Symone have a night in, and Team Baby has a night out.

***

Bianca had just finished laying out the takeout and was opening a bottle of wine when she heard the gentle click of Courtney’s footsteps down the hall.

“B?”

“I’m in the den!” Bianca called out, grinning when Courtney appeared in the doorway, an overstuffed banker’s box in her arms. Bianca eyed her up, appreciating her good little assistant ensemble, which she knew from the photos earlier concealed deeply naughty lingerie. “Hi, baby. Are you hungry? I got By Chloe.”

Courtney smiled, putting down the box and kicking off her heels. “You know, you don’t have to eat vegan food all the time just because of me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Come here.” Bianca set down the full wine glasses, reaching her arms towards Courtney, who collapsed beside her on the sofa, clearly exhausted. Bianca pulled her close for a soft kiss, then wrapped her into an embrace. “Long day?”

“Mmhmm…” Courtney snuggled against her, nuzzling into her neck. After letting out a deep sigh, she mumbled, “I gotta get back to work.”

“You should eat first,” Bianca reasoned.

“Okay.” Courtney sighed again, making no move to escape her arms.

“Or we could just lie down for a bit.” Bianca ran a hand through her hair.

“No.” Courtney pulled back with a groan, rubbing her eyes. “If I do that, I’ll never finish.”

She slid to the ground, kneeling in front of the coffee table, and began unpacking the box. Labels, cards, envelopes, highlighters, a spreadsheet full of notes...It all looked like a huge pain in the ass to Bianca. Unlike most of her friends, Bianca actually had done this kind of tedious administrative work back when she was starting out, and just seeing it made her skin start to itch.

She turned her attention to the food, quietly making up a plate for Courtney and sliding it over to her.

“Thanks,” Courtney said gratefully, resting her head against Bianca’s knee. “You’re the best.”

“You deserve an actual dinner break,” Bianca said, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to overstep.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m not gonna be able to relax until this stuff is done.”

“Fair enough,” Bianca said, attempting to feed her a piece of a zucchini fritter. She took it, playfully biting Bianca’s finger in the process. “She’s running you ragged, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know, it might just be me. I’m not really keeping up with things the way I should,” Courtney explained. “Maybe it’s the weather. I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”

“Not ready for the New York winter?” Bianca asked, playing gently with her hair.

“No, guess not,” Courtney said. “I just...hear Christmas music and want to go to the beach.”

Bianca laughed, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Ah. Southern hemisphere problems?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, well...I’ll do my best to keep you warm,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled, fluttering her lashes up at her before going back to her work.

It made sense that the weather would get to her. Spending her whole childhood in Australia and then college in San Diego must have done little to prepare her for how cold and dreary New York got in the winter. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that she hadn’t even seen the worst of it--January was bound to be even colder. It gave her an idea, though, so while Courtney continued working, Bianca shot off a text to her travel agent.

Once she had the ball rolling with Victoria, she looked back at Courtney’s progress, chuckling to herself over the custom stamps--not only that, but they were clearly winter themed, the Galactica logo covered in glittering icicles.

“What are you laughing at?” Courtney asked, diligently checking each name off her spreadsheet as she went.

“The stamps. They’re so Fame.” Bianca picked one up, looking it over.

“Oh yeah. Cute, huh?” Courtney said, sticking down a label.

“Very. So...do I get a card this year?”

“Yeah, but you’re in a different category.”

“The shithouse category?” Bianca guessed.

“No. You’re getting a gift.” Courtney turned to grin at her. “So I can deal with you on Monday.”

“Do you have the card?” Bianca asked, now curious. If she was still getting a gift, then maybe Fame wasn’t as angry as she seemed on Tuesday.

“Yeah, hang on.” Courtney combed carefully through one of the stacks, pulling out Bianca’s card.

A post-it was affixed to the front that said ‘Cristal.’ Not too bad. Bianca actually felt a bit optimistic until she opened the card. There was the typical printed message. At the top, in Fame’s loopy cursive, she’d written, ‘Bianca,’ which was bad enough--no ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ as usual. But worse, the bottom, which simply read ‘Regards, Fame.’

Oof.

A slightly sick feeling curled in Bianca’s stomach, that she tried to ignore by joking, “Well, at least she didn’t write ‘fuck you.’”

“You left her dinner party before they served dinner. You knew she’d be mad, right?” Courtney said.

“I know, I know…” Bianca set the card back on the table, watching as Courtney put it back into the right stack, then continued carefully peeling labels off the sheet and sticking them on the envelopes.

“I’m sorry, though. I feel a little responsible.”

“That’s true, this is all your fault. For being too damn irresistible.”

Courtney laughed as Bianca settled back against the sofa cushions, when suddenly, a thought flashed through her head.

“So uh, just out of curiosity, what does Anna Wintour’s card say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Courtney giggled.

“Come on…”

“No! That’s a federal offense!”

“I’ll risk the jail time. Please?” Bianca wheedled, reaching out towards the box. “She’s my competition, I have to know!”

“No!” Courtney slapped her hand away.

“Not sure why you’re being so protective of Anna Wintour,” Bianca grumbled.

“Well, I’m seeing her on the side,” Courtney quipped, then tossed a gleeful look back at Bianca, adding, “What can I say? I like older women.”

“Very funny.” Bianca pretended to be annoyed, but couldn’t help be charmed at how proud Courtney looked of herself in that moment.

“Awww, B…” Courtney climbed up onto the sofa, straddling her. “You know I love you. And only you.”

“Yeah?” Bianca found it impossible to keep pretending to pout with Courtney so close, so soft, smelling so good. Her dimples deepened, against her will, as Courtney kissed along her jaw to her neck.

“Yeah…” Courtney started to suck gently on her pulse point as Bianca’s fingers traveled up her thighs, disappearing under her skirt.

“Hmm, if you say so…”

“B, we really can’t,” Courtney began breathlessly, “I have to keep working, or-”

“Or what?” Bianca growled, voice low, the telltale shiver making her even bolder, fingers edging along the lace of her panties, the ones that had kept Bianca drooling over her photos all afternoon.

“Or I...” Courtney’s own fingers dug into Bianca’s shoulders, whimpering, “Oh, Anna.”

“Get offa me!” Bianca barked, shoving her playfully as she laughed and laughed. “Finish your damn cards.”

***

“What are you doing here?” Dahlia asked, irritated. She had just arrived at the warehouse for their band’s gig, her bass strapped to her back, and before she’d even spotted Adore, Aja or Alex, she’d seen Pearl, holding court by the bar with a couple of hangers-on, a heavy camera against her hip.

“Working,” Pearl said, gesturing to the camera that was slung over her shoulder. “Gotta stay up to date with the trends.”

Dahlia put her hands on her hips, unable to buy that she was there by accident. “Oh yeah, you just randomly decided to come here tonight, where we’d randomly be performing?”

“Pretty awesome coincidence, huh?” Pearl asked, a sparkle in her blue eyes that Dahlia would probably have found charming if she wasn't so pissed. “Someone upstairs must really love me.”

“Come on. This isn’t cool. The club is one thing, but this is my real life.”

“Not everything is about you, Dahlia,” Pearl said, rolling her eyes, and Dahlia found herself getting even angrier.

Why couldn’t Pearl just keep whatever stupid thing was going on between them in a box, like she could?

Of course she was sexy, and fun, and in another lifetime, Dahlia might even have let herself fall for her--but the reality of the situation was that she didn’t have that luxury, and seeing her here only confused things.

“How do you think Adore will feel if she sees you?” Dahlia asked, trying not to get distracted by her tongue playing coyly with the straw.

“I don’t know, but where do you think we met in the first place? At a party just like this one. We’re gonna run into each other, it’s a small town.”

“Actually, it’s not a small town, it’s a big ass city. But you are a huge dick,” Dahlia said, flouncing away. The fucking nerve of her.

Of course, as expected, the first thing Adore asked when she finally reached the group was, “What were you doing talking to Pearl?”

Ugh. This was gonna be a bitch to explain.

“Well, she’s sort of been...coming to the club. While I’m working.”

“Like…” the wheels turned in Adore’s head, finally guessing, “Like to hit on you?”

“I guess, in a way, but not exactly. She’s just like, a client. Who unfortunately knows my real name, so…” Dahlia shrugged. “It’s good money, you know?”

“That’s…” Adore seemed to be searching for the right words, her brow furrowed, her lips turned down in a frown. “That’s fucked, Dahlia. She’s my ex.”

“It’s my job, Adore.” Dahlia could find herself getting impatient. This wasn’t something she expected Adore to understand. Adore didn’t even have to work. Her sister gave her money to fuck around and focus all her time and energy on her music. But still, it should be obvious that Dahlia’s life wasn’t charmed like Adore’s; she worked her ass off, literally. “And she may suck, but she’s a hell of a lot better than the disgusting, mouth-breathing dudes I usually have to strip for!”

“So,” Adore stepped closer, crossing her arms. “Not only are you stripping for my ex-girlfriend, and doing god knows what else-”

“Watch it, bitch-”

“But you’re like, enjoying it?” Adore demanded, and Dahlia very much did not appreciate her tone.

“I didn’t say that! She’s just like, not hideous, and usually-” Dahlia stopped. “You know what, fuck this, I don’t have to explain myself to you, you privileged fuck!”

“Are you fucking-”

“Guys, guys, guys, what the hell is going on?” Alex cut in far too late to actually stop the runaway train. “Can you both chill, we have to play a set in like 20 minutes.”

“Yeah guys, chill,” Aja added halfheartedly, though from the look on their face, they seemed to be enjoying the show, watching with one eyebrow raised while sipping a beer.

“I’m not playing with her!” Adore exclaimed, stomping her foot like the spoiled baby she was. “She’s a fucking traitor, and a slut, and-”

“Go fuck yourself!” Dahlia shouted back, turning and storming off for the second time that night, through the crowd, all the way back to Pearl, who was chatting casually with some girl, completely oblivious to the shitstorm that she’d created.

Pearl looked up at Dahlia, at her heaving chest and flushed cheeks, and smiled. “Hi, cupcake. Back for more banter?”

“Shut up!” Dahlia said, stepping forward. “Just shut up.”

“Okay, baby.” Pearl’s eyes drifted from Dahlia’s eyes down to her lips, and then back up. They were standing close now, and Dahlia knew that Pearl could feel her pounding heartbeat. She tangled her hands into Pearl’s perfectly tousled blonde hair, grabbing fistsfuls of it as she pressed their lips together.

Pearl immediately responded--either she didn’t know that Dahlia was mostly doing this to make a point to Adore, or she didn’t care, kissing her back with passion, hands gripping her waist. When they broke apart, panting, Dahlia asked, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Pearl responded, with a grin that said she very much thought Dahlia would ask. Dahlia rolled her eyes, anxious to wipe that stupid smirk right off her face.

“I told you to shut up. Come on, you’re paying for the cab.”

She grabbed Pearl’s wrist, pulling her from the crowded warehouse without so much as a glance back at Adore or her pathetic face.

***

Hearing Dahlia gasp and moan was so satisfying, Pearl thought she might come just from listening to it. Her face was buried in her pussy, savoring the taste of her, tongue not resting until her hips finally stilled and whimpers began to sound from Pearl licking her clit in its oversensitive state. Pearl pressed one more kiss to her lower belly before sitting up, gazing at her sprawled on the bed.

She was as sinfully sexy as ever--even sweaty and disheveled, her hair and makeup were still a dream, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks, dark curls spread out around her head. Her bra was half on, tits pulled out of the cups, nipples pert and erect. Pearl lay down next to her, propped up on her elbow, trailing a hand over her heated skin.

“How’re you feeling, cupcake?”

“No complaints,” Dahlia panted out, her perfect tits rising and falling rapidly.

“Oh no? That’s good.” Pearl grinned.

“How ‘bout you? Was it everything you imagined?” Dahlia asked, and Pearl couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry tone.

“And more…” Pearl leaned forward, kissing her cheek once more before before heaving herself up. She searched the dimly lit room for her clothes, wondering how and when her left shoe got flung so far away from the bed.

When she was fully dressed, she turned back to Dahlia, who had caught her breath and was now sitting up, watching her with those dark, cat-like eyes. She saw by Dahlia’s slightly puzzled expression that she was perhaps expecting her to stay longer, and couldn’t help but feel like that was a win.

“So...I guess I’ll see you at the club?” Pearl said, eyes sweeping over her body once more, trying to memorize every inch of her in that delectable state. “No extra funny business, but you know I love wing night.”

“Sure,” Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Or…” she bit her lip, looking Pearl square in the eye, fearless and fierce. “If you want, you could have my number.”

Victory at last.

Pearl grinned, feeling like the cat that ate the canary. “Sounds great, doll.”

***

“What about this one?” Violet looked over at Max, who was holding up a beige suit jacket with peonies in shades of pink.

“Maybe…” Violet bit her lip, but she knew it wasn’t what she was looking for. “No. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Max smiled, putting the jacket back on the rack, the coffee Violet had bought for him in his other hand. “We’ll find something.”

They were in the Gucci store, Max kind enough to tag along with her when she had texted and asked if he had time to help her out, getting around Manhattan on crutches by herself an absolute nightmare.

When they had arrived, the store clerk had given both of them a disdainful, and Violet was pretty sure that he would have kicked them out if it wasn’t for her Dior purse and how cearly expensive Max’s shoes where, the sharp taste of shame in her mouth when she had nearly stumbled on the store steps because of the snow.

“I know I’m being difficult,” Violet looked around. “I just need…”

Violet hadn��t really planned on getting Sutan anything more than socks, no matter what Raven had suggested, a novelty pair with croissants on them hidden on the bottom of her underwear drawer, but when she had gotten home yesterday, she had seen a regular mountain of designer boxes and bags all stacked high on Sutan’s designated dumping spot in the kitchen.

She knew it probably didn’t matter to him, that Sutan would love the socks, her gift to his mother and Raja and Raven much more extravagant, but she refused to accept anything designer and give socks in return. It wasn’t a smart financial decision, actually, it was bordering on downright idiotic, but she had spent so little on food staying at Sutan’s that she could almost work it in.

“Let’s go look at the sweaters.”

***

“Okay, so, I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but whoever said that this,” Symone shook the big red bowl of popcorn she had in her lap, “tastes like regular old popcorn, is a liar.”

“Come on.” Gigi smiled. “It’s not that bad.”

She and Symone were sitting on the living room couch, The Muppet Christmas Carol playing on the TV, the modeling apartment completely empty except for the two of them.

Everyone else had already gone home for Christmas, Gigi’s flight leaving the next morning, while Symone had said with a laugh that she was delaying going home for as long as she could since this was the first time she didn’t have to answer to her mama.

“Popcorn needs butter.” Symone huffed, but she still took another handful. The skinny pop they were eating had been left by Naomi who had gone home to Los Angeles last week. “I don’t care if I’m a model now.”

“Ooooh,” Gigi giggled, Symone so cool and carefree. “Look at the rebel.”

“What can I say,” Symone smirked, throwing her hair over her shoulder.  “It’s hard being perfect.”

Gigi had tried not to be disappointed when Symone shared that she had been selected by Galactica for their February show, her own booking noticeably absent. Sutan hadn’t seemed to sweat it, her manager not treating her any differently, his faith in her clearly still there since her January was filled with go sees, but it had been a bitter pill to swallow.

“Hey,” Gigi felt an elbow push against her side, and she looked up to see Symone’s brown eyes resting on her face. “Don’t look like that.”

“Look like what?”

“Like you’re not amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?”

“Of course!” Symone grinned and Gigi could feel warmth wash over her body, her fingertips tingling, her stomach fluttering with butterflies.

***

Jinkx tapped Bianca on the shoulder, fixing her face with a puzzled expression as she turned around, glass of champagne in hand, strangers’ chatter barely audible over the Christmas music. The party was perfectly fine, if boring, one of those mandatory events to attend every year, making nice with all the big shots if you wanted them to keep donating to your charity foundations--which Jinkx definitely did.

“Hi...I’m sorry to bother you ma’am, but you look terribly familiar…” JInkx tilted her head, a wicked grin on her red lips. “Have we met before? It’s been so long, I hardly remember-”

“Shut up, cunt,” Bianca laughed, sweeping her into a hug and holding her tight. “How are you?”

“Well, so much has happened since the last time we saw each other…” Jinkx swept her red hair over her shoulder, her dress for the evening a stunning green number with sequins. “I’ve had 7 marriages and 12 kids-”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca cut her off, rolling her eyes even though she was smiling. “I’m sorry.” She put her glass down on a nearby table, turning her back to the party so she could focus entirely on Jinkx. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Jinkx grinned mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Young love, huh?” Jinkx didn’t keep up with the press like she used to, but it had been impossible to miss Bianca splashed all over Manhattan's premiere gossip blog sucking face.

“Something like that,” Bianca grinned back.

Jinkx shook her head in amazement. She’d known Bianca for 20 years, and seeing her driven to distraction by romance was completely out of character, making Jinkx certain that whoever this girl was, she must be something truly special.

“So, did you bring her tonight? I’m dying to meet her,” Jinkx said, linking her arm through Bianca’s.

“And subject her to one of Ted’s rambling speeches? No thanks.”

“Aww, well, that’s a shame.” Jinkx took a sip of her cranberry spritzer, waiting a beat before asking, “So...what does the crew think? Are they playing nice?”

Bianca cut her eyes at Jinkx, asking, “Do they ever?”

“Well...I might not be the best judge of that...but no.” It still stung a little, the way Jinkx’ friendships with that entire group had fallen apart years ago, after her disastrous failed engagement with Sutan and subsequent downward spiral, the last few months nothing but hazy, indistinct memories--she was probably lucky that she didn’t remember most of it.

Only Bianca had kept in touch with her through all the worst times. Not that she blamed the others; she’d been a full mess, and anyone in their right mind would have walked away.

She was just lucky that Bianca happened to be crazy enough to stick around.

“Juju’s been okay,” Bianca offered, sighing a little. “She called me the other day and apologized. Even though I know she disapproves. In some ways, it’s worse than Raja and the rest of them, you know? When the nice one disapproves? But at least she’s trying.”

“I get that.” Jinkx had seen Juju a few times in recent years, and she’d been warm and sweet, and if Jinkx was braver, she’d have attempted to strike up a relationship again, now that she had years of sobriety under her belt. But somehow, the idea of rejection from the person who’d always been the voice of reason was exponentially scarier than more cold shoulder from Fame or Raja, or Sutan’s cowardly avoidance.

“I know you do. What about you, how are rehearsals going?”

“Oh, things are really heating up. I think...it could be a really good show,” she said, hope blooming on her face. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait either, red. I’m real fucking proud of you.” Bianca pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Are you gonna be around for Christmas? I’m putting together a little brunch. Nothing fancy, just the usual group of Jews and orphans.”

Bianca laughed. “Not this year. I decided to whisk Courtney away for a little trip while her office is closed down.”

“Well, that’s predictably extra of you,” Jinkx giggled. “You’ll be back for New Year’s though, right?”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it!”

***

“Triiiiiiiin!” Adore screeched, racing up to Trinity and throwing her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

Adore very much needed this night out with her girls after last night’s humiliating debacle with Dahlia. The fucking traitorous cunt. Trinity, who was another one of Courtney’s sorority sisters (and low-key maybe Adore’s favorite of that whole group) visiting from Atlanta was the perfect excuse. Being around people who she knew had her back would do a lot to soothe her frayed nerves and bruised ego, the band barely getting through their gig, the angry tears that coursed down her cheeks during their last number fortunately in line with the lyrics.

“Hey girl, how are you?” Trinity asked.

“Right now I’m fucking perfect,” Adore murmured, face buried in her long dark hair.

“Don’t fucking hog her, Adore!” Morgan said, elbowing her in the side.

Trinity took Adore’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes, for the moment ignoring Morgan and Tyra jostling for her attention.

“You alright?” Trinity asked softly, and Adore knew that she was seconds away from tearing up like a big old baby. So she just nodded, and let Trinity fold her into another warm hug

“Hey, there’s a table free!” Tyra exclaimed, quickly dragging Morgan and Tati over, Trinity and Adore trailing behind. “Morgan, you get the first round.”

“I always get the first round,” Morgan protested.

“Omigod, whatever, I’ll get it, you petty bitch.” Tyra rolled her eyes and flounced over to the bar.

Adore wasn’t paying much attention to their bickering, just happy to have Trinity’s arm around her shoulders.

“So, how’s the new job going?” Adore asked her, eyes hopeful as she asked, “Still considering moving here? Pretty please?”

Trinity giggled, tossing her hair. “It’s a possibility. It depends how this whole CMA thing goes.”

“You’ll do great, you’re smart.” Adore waved her hand. “The real question is, what neighborhood do you want to move into? I vote for downtown and not some outer borough garbage like Courtney.”

“Speaking of, where is-”

“Trinity!” Courtney squealed, pushing her way through the crowd and running over to their table, flinging herself into Trinity’s arms.

“Hi baby! You look great, spin around for me.”

“You think?” Courtney beamed, spinning happily to show off the clothes that Adore was certain Bianca had either bought for her or lent from her massive closet. In fact, her jacket looked very familiar. And her earrings. And her boots. Jesus Christ.

“Who wants tequila?!” Tyra exclaimed, setting a bunch of shot glasses down on the table.

“Everyone but Courtney,” Adore laughed, taking a lime and a glass.

“I’ll take one!” Courtney countered, still grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What the hell, right?”

“Wow, what’s gotten you so happy?” Trinity asked. “Last time we talked, you were super stressed and up to your ass in work.”

“Oh, I still am,” Courtney giggled. “But it’s Saturday, so...cheers, mates!”

She and Trinity clinked glasses and then downed their shots.

“Seriously though...what’s up?” Trinity asked. “Did your dad send you some magical new multivitamin?”

“Man, are you out of the loop,” Morgan said, shaking her head.

“What?”

“She’s getting laid,” Tati explained, and Courtney laughed, coyly fluttering her lashes.

“Ohh, okay. Who’s the lucky douchebag?” Trinity asked, clearly assuming that Courtney was continuing her pattern of dating horrible men and then discarding them quickly.

“My sister,” Adore said pointedly, tossing back her own shot and then biting down on the lime.

Trinity turned back to Courtney, eyes huge, mouth open. “Whoaaaa…”

“Yeah, she’s not even like, a little gay like Tati,” Tyra teased. “She’s gone full lez overnight.”

Courtney laughed again, simpering and giggling, looking happier than Adore had ever seen her--like the world was hers for the taking. She groaned internally, wondering if maybe Jujubee had been right about Bianca giving Courtney way too much hope.

The last thing she needed was to have her heart broken and her dreams crushed, and if it was by Adore’s sister, then she’d feel somewhat responsible.

Shit.

“So like...whoa,” Trinity said again, still in a bit of shock, but clearly amused.

“I’ll get the next round!” Courtney then exclaimed, and began to skip over to the bar.

“Wait up, Court!” Adore called, following her.

Courtney bounced happily up to the bar, quickly getting the bartender’s attention and ordering six Cosmos. Right after tequila shots. Tonight was shaping up to be quite a mess, Adore realized, but shrugged, figuring that getting wild before they all went home for the holidays wouldn’t be the worst thing.

While the bartender began making their drinks, Adore linked her arm through Courtney’s.

“So...uh...how are things going with B, anyway? And feel free to refrain from getting too graphic.”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney giggled, turning towards Adore with sparkling eyes. “It’s going...so fucking good, Dore. I’ve never met anyone like her, she’s incredible...”

“That’s good,” Adore said. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“It’s more than that,” Courtney said. “It’s like...I always thought I was a pretty happy person, but then she came along and it’s just made everything so much brighter and more wonderful than I ever thought possible. Like I’m seeing colors I never knew existed, you know?”

Shiiiit.

“Okay well...yeah, cool.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you were good with it, did-”

“I am! I’m totally good with it,” Adore said quickly, nodding and forcing a smile. “And I’m really happy for you.”

“But?” Courtney eyes, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, it’s just, it’s Bianca. She just sometimes tends to, um…” Adore bit her lip. How the fuck was she supposed to do this? This was her sister, her favorite person in the world, and even though it might be true, talking shit about her in any way except a joke felt wrong. “She’s just not much of a relationship person. You know?”

“Hmm. Yeah, I know.” Courtney paused slightly, thinking, and Adore wished she knew what was going through her head.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Adore continued. “I would feel so shitty, like it was my fault, if she...you know. Did her usual thing with you. Especially if she was giving you the wrong idea, letting you think it’s more serious than...than she can handle.”

“That’s fair,” Courtney said, taking in Adore’s words with such nonchalance that Adore had to wonder if she was even listening.

“She just tends to, like...move on quickly, before things get too real. I think it’s some kind of defense thing, probably because of our-” Adore stopped, realizing she was about to majorly overstep. That tequila shot must have hit her harder than she thought. “I dunno. She just doesn’t really like anything serious. And I know y’all are about to spend Christmas together, and it’s Bianca so she’s gonna buy you a billion presents, and I just don’t want you to think it means...you know...”

“Well…” Courtney pressed her lips together, handing her credit card over to the bartender before busting out a smug, “She told me she loved me.”

“She what?!” Adore’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Love? That was new. That was major.

“Mmhmm…” Courtney took one of the cocktails into her hands, sipping it daintily.

Well. It appeared that her sister’s nearest and dearest friends were dead fucking wrong. It also explained why Courtney looked self-satisfied as fuck, instead of defensive or annoyed. And as for Adore, what she felt mostly was relief, and joy, and a tiny bit of guilt for being talked out of giving Bianca the benefit of the doubt.

“Well, shit. Okay, you know what? I take back everything I said. You’re in uncharted territory.” She picked up one of the drinks and held it out. “Cheers, bitch.”

“Cheers,” Courtney giggled, taking another sip. She took her card back from the bartender and began collecting the drinks. Adore helped, taking three of them into her own hands.

“So, can I be the flower girl at your wedding?” she asked, heading back over to their table.

Courtney laughed gaily, bumping Adore with her hip, showing her that there were no hard feelings at all.

***

[s1utspeare]

Get To Know Me!

@foxofninetales tagged me in this ask game and since I LOVE HER i will now be doing it (i mean i’d do it anyway but now it will be filled with love for FOX i am not accepting CRITICISM ON THIS POINT)

Part I

name: Brigid! I’m named after the Irish goddess of like, poetry, healing, smithcraft, and protection, or the Irish saint (they’re both pretty similar it’s just whether or not you’re talking about Celtic religion or Catholicism). She’s very cool, and I think it’s a very fitting name for who I turned out to be!

pronouns: she/her

star sign: i’m an insufferable theatre kid of course I’m a Leo

height: 5'8″ babeeeyyy (172 cm). I’m not short like, at all, but all of my family members are over six foot, so I’m like. tiny in comparison. they all make fun of me all the time for it :(

time: 8:49pm! A delightful time of evening!!! 

birthday: July 31st, same day as Harry Potter lol.

nationality: american :P

fave bands/groups/solo artists: hnnnngggghhhh why would u ask me this I don’t KNOW jk i just have a lot uhhhhh all time faves would be Bastille and Mumford and Sons, but I’m SUPER into kpop right now, so my top groups are BTS, Stray Kids, and One OK Rock (who are technically jpop but I really like their stuff). I also am a Broadway BITCH (hello, theatre kid) so before this year all of my Spotify library was basically just show tunes. 

song stuck in your head: Get Away by VeriVery. I think they’re a pretty new group? idk i saw them on one of those tumblr promotional things and checked out the music video which is like??? really interesting conceptually? so I’ve just been listening to the song for a while lol. 

last movie you watched: Train to Busan! I’m gearing up to write a dmbj zombie apocalypse AU and so I was like “this is a popular zombie film! I’ll watch it for inspiration! :)” holy shit. holy shit i was so wrong. It’s one of the most viscerally affecting films I think I’ve ever seen, I was like. On the verge of an anxiety attack the entire time but in like the best possible way?? it’s a mastery of character introduction and action/horror and I cried for like the last ten minutes straight. SO affecting. I do NOT RECOMMEND IT if u are already made anxious by zombie apocalypse scenarios, blood, violence, and a Lot of Death. 

last show you binged: hmmm uh like I’m currently watching Mystic Nine but at like a normal pace, so the last show I probably binge watched was maybeeee The Uncanny Counter on Netflix? HIGHLY recommend that one, I made @cross-d-a watch it and I’m living for her liveblog reactions lmao. Idk most of my free time has been spent writing the past few months which. After months of only having the energy to watch shows is kind of really invigorating? the things u can do when u fix ur health I’ll tell you what

when you created your blog: in 2012 asldighalsdkfjladskjga i came on here to like burdge’s pjo fanart :)

the last thing you googled: "is it bad not to have an air cap on your tire” ALSDIGHALKDFJLADFJA FUCK ME (i learned that it’s not necessarily bad but it can get dirt and stuff built up in there so I went to the store after work today and replaced it)

other blogs: everything is here bc i am too lazy to create a sideblog! so sorry to everyone who does not follow me for cdrama content bc this is all I am now. 

why i chose my url: cause it’s my ao3 username and i wanted people to be able to find me more easily on tumblr! :) the long answer is because i love shakespeare and also i think that slut is a really funny word and concept for me especially because i am one of the most sexless people u will ever meet in ur life so slutspeare is like. an aggressively ace joke that only I think is funny. 

how many people are you following: 588

how many followers do you have: ah just over 200?!??!!? which is like. a lot for me. I think it was like 75 up until like last year omg 

average hours of sleep: my sleep app says I average around eight! which is very good for me! I do have to get enough sleep consistently or I will Have A Bad Time so my sleep schedule is pretty good and luckily I don’t have the Insomnia depression I have the Sleep Lots one which I am glad for bc idk what I’d do if I couldn’t Be Unconscious regularly. Die probably. 

lucky numbers: I don’t think I have lucky numbers?? my favorite number is 21 for no reason other than the vibes alone. 

instruments: i’ve played the piano for uhhhh.... eighteen years now? and I can play the ukulele and am surprisingly good with the recorder since I’ve had to play it in Multiple Theatre Performances. I was also an honor choir singer back in high school so I’ve done a lot of select ensemble stuff which was super fun! 

what i'm currently wearing: a Life Is Good long-sleeved t-shirt that says “Not All Who Wander Are Lost” that I got in a military surplus store like a million years ago and red Adidas athletic shorts that I found at the thrift store a couple weeks back

dream job: playwright! I just wanna be a playwright! playwriting is like drugs i literally go nuts for it

dream trip: I don’t know??? I don’t really like traveling tbh aslidhalkfdj umm I do want to see the grand canyon sometime before I die tho so maybe a road trip down there? I definitely like traveling solo so I’d probably just hang out with myself and drive and go to whatever places I want and see dumb tourist attractions and sing loudly in the car

fave food: CURRY i know i said eggs the last time it asked me this but I miss my local Indian restaurant I want to eat literal Platefuls of tikka masala at 12pm at the Indian buffet after my physics class again :(

top three fictional universe you'd like to live in: hmmm i don’t know, actually! probably one where I have Powers and could do Cool Hand Motions and make Lights Appear. If I were anywhere with like. An Actual World-Dooming problem tho I would not be helpful at all. I would just die. Besides, I already live in fictional universes half the time, I’m a writer! 

Part II

last song: Basquiat by Pentagon! The music video is like. Very whumpy. So if you’re into that... the song’s also a bop

last stream: i don't watch streams very often, I just watch clips from them, cause those usually just give the best parts lol 

currently reading: mmmmmbbbaaaaahhhhh literally nothing? I’m trying to get caught up on the backlog of dmbj fic I haven’t gotten around to so Binding by @vishcount is next on that list! oh I guess I’m also reading Johnny Tremain with my kids (one of them SPOILED THE END and I forgot how it ended and now I’m big sad). 

currently watching: Mystic Niiiiinnnneeeeee! love those gay history bitches. everyone in that show is so funny. I just finished the Fuba Side Plot tho and now we’re back to Politics so i’m like >:( someone give zhang baby rishan a hug (and then i write angst about him what is wrong with me)

what is antipoetry to you: antipoetry??? what the heck is antipoetry hold on... uhhhh that’s just poetry. who came up with this term. i guess like lyrical fiction would be the technical correct definition but idk I consider anything to be poetry! like that’s the whole point! poetry is poetry is poetry as long as it’s focused on intensity and emotions it’s poetry! a haiku? poetry. the random one-lined mess of words on my phone? poetry. a literal drawing of a cardinal with the word “bird” written next to it? poetry. idk I’ve been trying to teach my kids that there are no wrong ways to write creatively; if you’re expressing yourself and making emotions, then you’re writing! also like half of my work could be considered antipoetry lmao. I love emotionally supercharging the mundane.

currently craving: i have noooo ideaaaasssss i’m literally just vibing. uh. water? ok i took care of that one my water bottle was right next to me. 

AH IF YOU READ THIS MUCH THANK YOU???? i love u 

uhhhh no pressure tags for @xia-xueyi, @nope4ever, @bookjoyworm, @elletromil, and @gaiahenshin, as well as anyone else who would like to give the full-rundown on themselves! :D

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Good morning! Whats your favorite show/movie? Who are your favorite characters? Why do you like them so much? Also!! Did you have a good sleep?

Okay so I was a film major for a while, and I have opinions. 

Penny Dreadful 

I love this show. Like, so much. I adore it. I can not get enough of that show. Just all of the imagery, and the fantastic writing and acting. The episode intro alone is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Eva Green is a goddess and I love everything she’s been in. The take on classic horror stories is So Good, and it actually became the inspiration for my Gay Frankenstein story! (Started as a stitch AU, and then went completely OC after I had Ideas) but the show itself is so intimate? I think it’s largely that the period they’re in, everything was so repressed and restricted. So when the characters break out of those moments, it’s more meaningful. And the love-hate relationship between Ms. Ives and Malcolm in season one? Exquisite.  I could literally write essay’s about this show, but I’ll restrain myself and just say: it’s the best ensemble show I’ve ever seen. The characters come together, but they also each have their own distinct lives that sometimes intersect, but in s2 especially, are quite separate. They are constant with one another like ensemble shows usually portray. Also gothic horror and romance? My absolute favorite. 

Anything by Guillermo del Toro

This man Owns My Entire Soul. I’m not even joking, everything he writes and directs is perfection. Crimson Peak is probably my favorite (I have a stitch AU for this too ;) ) because again, Gothic horror and romance. I’m a slut for that shit. Also Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain? Delightful casting. I think it’s obvious by now that I love tragic relationships, so their dynamic is *chef’s kiss* amazing. they’re so damaged. And this quote right here is one of the BEST things I’ve ever read: 

“But the horror... The horror was for love. The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all.”

Engrave that on my headstone, please?? I’ve got a sort-of Dorian Gray AU (it’s delightful) that’s basically built on this entire premise. Mitch makes the mistake of falling in love with Stiles, and does many terrible things because of it. Mostly to himself, at least. 

I think my love of Crimson Peak is very closely tied with The Shape of Water. another beautiful movie, I could wax poetic about this forever. it was beautifully written, and such an artistic movie. I love the way it was filmed, and the set design, and all of the subtle imagery. Such as Elisa’s apartment being cast in cooler tones, it always felt very damp and had evidence of water damage, compared to Giles’, a mirror image of her own, in more warm tones. This is another one I could (and have) write essays about. There is so much packed into this movie, from the themes on toxic masculinity and entitlement, to the conversation on queerness and race and disability, and how all the various relationships are portrayed. Like. there is so much to pick apart in this movie. 

Aside from that, ofc Hell Boy deserves an honorable mention because i grew up on those movies. I’m pretty sure the Golden Army especially is responsible for who I am today, given all the lore on the fae in that universe. Wow, that explains so much about me... Also one of my first WoW characters was an elf named Nuala xD I still have her, too, and it’s been like 12 years lol

Near-Future Sci-Fi

Sci-fi is one of my favorite genres, I am a huge nerd for theoretical and astrophysics. But my favorite kind of sci-fi is the stuff that still takes place on Earth, rather than epic battles in space. Ex Machina and Annihilation are at the top of that list. Alex Garland is another writer/director that I love. He has the same kind of approach as del Toro, where he puts a lot of fine details into his work. And I love that it’s very cerebral; there are so many layers to Ex Machina. My English 101 prof actually refused to analyze it in class when I suggested it to him, because he didn’t think my class could. Basically handle? Dissecting that movie? Because a lot of it comes across as very surface level, but in some cases when you look deeper, it’s actually suggesting the opposite of what you might think at first glance. (And he was right, my fellow students were awful. I miss that class though, it was one of my favorites T_T Mr. Ryder was an awesome dude and super chill.) 

Morgan is another good example. As you can see, I fucking love androids lol. Which brings me to another of my all time favorite movies: Cloud Atlas. I could literally watch this movie endlessly, I love it so much. The acting, the writing, the filming, all of it is top notch. And one thing they did in the movie that didn’t come across in the book, was reusing the same actors through the different eras in the book. That was just so neat, because it really encapsulates how connected these souls are, as we follow the threads of their story throughout time. If you haven’t seen the movie, I can’t recommend it enough.  

Another one I always think of alongside Cloud Atlas, even though they aren’t related at all, is Predestination. It’s a great movie that explores the idea of fate and free will in a really clever way, utilizes time travel in a very organized way that I think was neat (think Umbrella Academy. They even use briefcases! As you can see, I love sci-fi bureaucracy, it’s fun. In fact The Bureau is another movie I enjoyed) and the main character is actually, explicitly trans, which was cool. You basically get to see the entire story of their life, and I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s just. So good. Mindfuckery galore. 

Shoot, and I almost forgot! Arrival! That is one of the best movies, and another one I could watch nonstop. It focuses on mathematics and linguistics and I swear to god, I almost altered my entire college course because of this movie. Amy Addams is brilliant, Jeremy Renner is so soft and nerdy, and again, it has an amazing take on time travel. I am very particular about how time is handled in Sci-fi, and this portrayal was one of my favorite. (Most of my physics studies have been dedicated to the theory of time, so like. Strong Opinions.) 

Fantasy

Stardust! It wasn’t until Good Omens can out that I realized Neil Gaiman is responsible for most of the stories I loved as a kid lol, and I had no idea he wrote stardust! But that is such a beautiful movie (I have a Stardust AU lol) and it’s definitely one of my comfort movies. Captain Shakespeare is one of the best characters ever, bless Robert de Niro. I would die for him. Fun fact, i had no idea Ipswitch was a real place until like. 2019. I 100% thought it was made up for the movie 😂

Alongside Stardust, I’ve always loved The Golden Compass. It’s fantasy, but also with that old-timey steampunk science feel, which is so fun and surprisingly difficult to find! 

Mortal Engines also has the same kind of feel, and it was such an epic movie in every sense of the word. I’m a little sad that after all the work that went into it, it didn’t get a dedicated following or fan base, because I feel there’s so much potential in it. But at the same time, fandom tends to gather around media that has plenty of flaws for us to repair with gold, and there wasn’t much room for that in Mortal Engines. 

I’m going to put Jupiter Ascending here even though it technically fits with the sci-fi, because that section is long as fuck and also this movie has such a fantastic feel. Mila Kunis? beautiful. The CGI? beautiful. Eddy Redmayne? One of the best villain portrayals i’ve ever seen. The whole oedipal vibe he had was immaculate, as was their portrayal of reincarnation, and just. The world building. GOD. I get so weak for through world building. Also the fkn intergalactic bureaucracy when they’re basically at the space DMV? One of my all time favorite scenes in movie history. 

Horror

I have very little room in my life for horror. As I said, I have strong movie opinions, especially when it comes to horror movies. I don’t like how most of them rely on cheap jump scares and overused gore and gratuitous rape scenes, instead of, y'know, actual good writing. 

Which is EXACTLY why I adore It: Chapter 1 & 2. It has none of those things, but still manages to be so terrifying. They are my favorite horror movies, and I’m saying this as someone who has genuine childhood trauma bc of the novel. Like. I couldn’t shower/take baths alone until I was almost 10 T_T When I was 6-7 and saw kids play by storm drains, I would run over screaming about how Pennywise was going to get them. Like, I had issues man. I was terrified to see the first one, and wouldn’t go until I could go with my best friend after she had already seen it, so she could warn me when something scary was about to happen 😂

And, one of my favorite aspects of the movie, and the thing that gave me Mad Respect for Any Muschietti? The way he filmed Bev and her father. They have a character who is literally being molested, but they never once have to show it. And yet their interactions are still so viscerally upsetting to watch. Sexploitation puts me off of most horror, and the fact that Muschietti doesn’t use it here, even when it would be actually somewhat justified? *chef’s kiss*. I love him. 

I love horror as a concept, I’m just really picky about it because I expect the writing to be good. I don’t like short cuts. But in a lot of cases, even if I don’t enjoy the movie itself, I love to watch analysis videos on youtube! I love to see the philosophy and symbolism in different horror movies, even if i don’t like to watch the movies themselves. It’s a fun hobby. 

Misc. 

Then in general, some other stuff I love in no particular order:

The Internship (Bless Dylan, Stuart is such a bitch and I love him) 

American Assassin (ofc. The writing itself is eh, but Mitch is my man) 

Dylan’s episode of Weird City. (I actually have a lot of feelings about this one. Jordan Peele is another amazing writer/director, I really need to catch up on his works.) 

Dorian Gray (*chef’s kiss*)

Rogue One (Makes me cry every time) 

WARCRAFT (Obviously this is a fav. It made me so happy, words cannot express.) 

Coraline and most other stop motion animation. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for that. 

Literally anything associated with Tim Burton. Fun fact, when I was 12 and in middle school, I planned to decorate my future house inspired by tim burton. Like, i had Plans. 

Most adaptations of Alice in Wonderland!

So! this got long as fuck! But you said you like that kind of thing lol 😂 I had kinda Eh sleep since I was up so late lmao, and I kept waking up (as usual, rip). And I’m so mad I go up for nothing! The dude I was supposed to show my listing to never showed, and is refusing to answer my calls >_> It’s been 2 hours now, and I still haven’t heard from him. But whatever, I already have a full price cash offer on the house so who cares. And that means I can play WoW all day, now! 

[lottes-ocs]

10 years of my favorite ocs

age 10. kumikaida.

her deal?: i just wanted to have an oc, so i made the COOLEST bitch i could think of. cat ears. punk. she can be your angle… or yuor devil.

age 11. prisma lucekari.

her deal?: originally an imaginary friend. i came up with the idea for electromagnetic spectrum ocs during fifth grade science class. prisma represents visual light. she also hates conformists. what does that mean to an 11 year old? i sure thought i knew.

age 12. polyxena timestop.

her deal?: self-insert. she’s a brilliant kickass steampunk time traveler from the distant future who’s stuck in a medieval kingdom, where the locals think she’s a witch because they don’t understand her eccentric ways. subtle and brilliant metaphor for how i was stuck in the medieval kingdom of middle school where NOBODY understood my tortured genius brain. i listened to green day. 

age 13. nora bissette.

her deal?: unapologetic self-insert. it was the first year that my life was ever remotely interesting so i didn’t want to write much else. unfortunately i don’t have a lot of info on her because i never posted about her anywhere, but since she was a fictionalized version of my 13-year-old self you get the gist.

age 14. sasha mekhdiev.

his deal?: if i remember correctly, justine and i were partners during the simple machine unit in eighth grade science class, and we would name every object in our simple machine and assign personalities to them. i wanna say sasha was based on our pulley rope, mendeleev. also i just thought russian accents were really hot.  

age 15. martha wakefield.

her deal?: i came up with her during a creative writing class i took over the summer and just kind of stuck with her throughout freshman year of high school. she’s a ghost who, with some other ghosts, haunts her old mansion that’s now a dorm building at a boarding school. she was an edwardian girl who wanted to disguise herself as boy so she could (join the army i think?) and her purist neighbors hired a hit on her because they didn’t like that

age 16. declan alvey. 

his deal?: we know his deal!! my little douchebag baby dec!! declan’s first iteration actually came to me in a dream right before i started high school but he’s changed SO MUCH since then. i’d say that declan became who he is now between my sophomore and junior year.

age 17. princess am.

her deal?: i just really wanted to write fantasy again after i saw moana. cut to about a month later her story was all i ever thought about. that’s where my favorite Socially Awkward Hero, Badass Bookworm, Rebellious Princess originated. (i keep this watercolor that i did of her on my wall)

age 18. quinn murphy.

his deal?: the story-world that quinn is part of came from my desire to 1. write about my experience as a financial aid kid at a private high school and 2. write an ensemble comedy. he’s always sort of been my favorite out of them though, i think because he and rory are the ones i’m most similar to, but quinn’s always been more clearly fleshed out. 

age 19. dr. adam collins.

his deal?: adam’s story has been the culmination of a few things. first of all, my mental health was awful at the beginning of this semester, and i found myself in a strange, grim existential crisis. second of all, i had/have been trying to cope with that existential crisis by spending lots of time with my friends and going to lots of standup open mics. third of all, i’m just having fun with it babey.