#it feels impossible. i could never juggle so many Things.

[ghostzzy]

there is just. no area of my life in which i am feeling fulfilled or successful. and there hasn't been in several years.

[formulaisa]

So I saw you were taking requests for Franco and i thought I would share my idea!

How about Mexican reader where she is like a fan of formula 1 and goes to one of the gp (any of them). And like she is there minding her business in the paddock (like asking drivers for photos and autographs) and Franco sees her and is like 😍😍😍 immediately and when reader goes to ask for a photo he starts like actually interacting with her (more than the polite thank you for being a fan talk) and idk you can take over from there.

Don’t feel pressured to write this! I just think is a cute idea and definitely not self protecting

The Signature | Franco Colapinto

Summary: Growing up watching Formula 1 with your dad made you dream of attending a Grand Prix, but you never imagined your first paddock experience would lead to catching a certain Argentinian rookie's attention.

Warnings: some spanish (with translations)

Author's note: Sorry for the inactivity! I've been busy with my family for the holidays. If you have any feedback or suggestions, I'd really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! <3

F1 Masterlist / homepage / main masterlist

You had always dreamed of attending a Grand Prix. Ever since your dad introduced you to Formula 1 at a young age, you were hooked. The roar of the engines, the speed, the energy of the crowd—it all fascinated you. But the problem was, you lived far away from any Grand Prix, and the costs for tickets, travel, and hotels made this dream seem impossible.

That all changed when you went to college in the US. You were awarded a generous scholarship to a school in Texas, conveniently close to the US Grand Prix. Juggling a waitressing job and school, you worked hard and finally saved enough money to attend a race. To top it off, you earned enough to afford a paddock pass. There was only one thing that could make this experience even better: having your dad with you. Though he couldn't be there, you had a plan to make it up to him. You'd bought him a blank hat and set out to get as many driver autographs as possible for him.

It was a scorching Saturday in Austin. Qualifying was starting in just a few hours, so you arrived early, hoping to catch some drivers for autographs and photos. The paddock was already buzzing with activity—mechanics wheeling tires, engineers huddled over laptops, and the occasional flash of a driver's race suit disappearing into a garage.

By now, you'd been surprisingly lucky. You'd gotten photos and signatures from three drivers: Carlos, Yuki, and Nico. Their signatures decorated the pristine white hat, each one making you imagine your dad's face lighting up when he saw it. But you wouldn't be truly satisfied until you got signatures from your two favorites: Checo and Lewis.

The Texas heat was beginning to wear you down. Your outfit, a cute dress and cowboy boots, looked stylish but weren't exactly built for the sweltering weather. Sweat beaded at your temples, and you could feel your hair starting to stick to the back of your neck. You stopped by a kiosk to grab a water bottle, then took a quieter shortcut back to the main paddock area, hoping to bump into a driver.

Just as you rounded the corner, you spotted him. It was hard not to. Franco Colapinto was strutting through the paddock in his navy blue Williams polo, his trademark smirk on full display. The young Argentinian driver had been making waves in his rookie season, his natural talent and charismatic personality quickly making him a fan favorite. Now was your chance.

Suddenly, a small lump filled your throat. It was a strange sensation, one you hadn't felt with any of the other drivers today. Your hands felt clammy, and your heart began to race. You found yourself nervous in a way that had nothing to do with meeting a Formula 1 driver and everything to do with meeting him.

"Umm, hi, Franco?" you asked, your voice hesitant. "Could I get a picture?"

He paused and turned around, pulling an AirPod from his ear. His dark eyes met yours, and his smirk softened into a genuine smile that made your stomach do a little flip. "Yeah, of course," he said, his Argentine accent adding a musical quality to his words.

You pulled out your phone and went to take a selfie. As you did, you noticed Franco adjusting his hair in the camera, running his fingers through the dark waves with practiced ease.

"Sorry, it's just so hot here," he explained quickly, before leaning in and flashing a smile for the photo. As you snapped the picture, you caught him glancing down at you, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The subtle cologne he wore mixed with the mechanical scents of the paddock, creating an oddly intoxicating combination.

"I know. I feel like I'm melting," you said, tucking your phone back into your purse. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as if to emphasize your point.

Franco hesitated for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes sparkled with interest as he asked, "¿Hablas español?" [Do you speak Spanish?]

"Sí, sí," you replied with a small smile, pleasantly surprised by the question. [Yes, yes.]

"¿De dónde eres?" he asked, his signature smirk returning. [Where are you from?]

"México," you said, "pero voy a la universidad aquí." Your voice grew more confident as you spoke in Spanish, and you noticed how Franco's posture relaxed, his shoulders dropping slightly as he leaned in to hear you better. [Mexico, but I go to college here.]

“I could tell from your accent,” He nodded, clearly interested, still not in a rush to leave. The bustling paddock seemed to fade into the background as he focused his attention entirely on you. He glanced around the paddock, then asked, "Are you here by yourself?"

You sighed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, it's just me." The admission made you feel suddenly vulnerable, but there was something comforting about the way Franco listened, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Paddock pass all for yourself, huh?" His voice carried no judgment, just genuine curiosity.

"I saved up all my tips from work," you said, absently playing with the lanyard around your neck. "I originally wanted to surprise my dad with tickets for his birthday, but I couldn't afford a flight and hotel from Mexico, so it didn't work out."

He looked at you with understanding, his expression softening. "Where do you work?" he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

You shrugged slightly, a little embarrassed. "Just some restaurant... I'm a waitress." The words felt small compared to his profession, but his interested expression never wavered.

"What's it called?" he asked, taking a small step closer.

"Trust me. You wouldn't want to go there," you replied with a self-deprecating laugh, knowing Franco wouldn't be interested in the casual, country bar you worked at.

"Still, I’m curious," he asked, the same flirtatious tone in his voice. “Besides, I’m more interested in the service.”

"It's called Buck Wild," you said with a small laugh, watching his expression for any sign of judgment. “It’s a very Texan country bar.”

"I think I'd learn to like it," he teased with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, you noticed. “When do you work there?”

"Tuesdays and Fridays," you answered, still smiling, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his continued interest.

He nodded, clearly thinking. "I leave on Thursday..." he muttered to himself, his voice soft and thoughtful as he created a mental plan. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with possibility.

Your heart began to race, and a warm blush crept up your neck. The way he was looking at you, the casual tone of his voice, the fact that he was even asking about your work schedule—it all pointed to something more than just a typical chat with a fan. You found yourself hyper-aware of every detail: the way his polo shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, how he kept shifting slightly closer to you, the warmth in his dark eyes.

Then, reality crashed back in as you remembered why you had actually approached him. The hat for your dad was still tucked away in your bag.

"I-I know you probably have to go soon, but before you leave, could you sign this for me?" you asked, pulling the hat out of your bag. Your fingers trembled slightly as you handed it to him.

He smiled warmly and took the sharpie and hat from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. "Wow, you've got quite a few signatures already, huh?" He examined the other drivers' signatures with interest.

Franco signed the hat, moving slowly, almost like he was savoring the moment, stretching out the conversation. His signature was deliberate and careful, unlike the rushed autographs you'd seen him give to other fans earlier.

You smiled and explained, "I'm trying to get Lewis and Checo too. They're my dad's favorite drivers." Your voice softened when you mentioned your father, and Franco seemed to notice.

"Ah, Good taste," he said, nodding. Then, his expression shifted slightly. He glanced at the hat, pausing. A look of realization and minor panic appears on his face. 

“Wait,” he gestures to the hat “This isn’t for you?” 

“No, it’s a gift for my dad,” you explain “Why?” 

You look down at the hat in his hands and see his scrawled out signature. Underneath you see something else he had started to write. “+54 2322…” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what he'd done. "Joder," he muttered under his breath, quickly scribbling over the numbers, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Despite his embarrassment, you noticed he didn't step away.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, a warm smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. The moment felt surreal—here was Franco Colapinto, Formula 1 driver, getting flustered while trying to give you his phone number on what he thought was your hat.

"I can just give you mine," you said shyly, still flustered but charmed by his awkward attempt.

Franco pulled out his phone, opened a new contact, and handed it to you. His phone was warm from being in his pocket, and you noticed his lock screen was a picture of his dog. Just as you were typing in your name and number, his phone buzzed with a message: 'Where are you, mate? Meeting started ten minutes ago.'

Franco's eyes widened with panic, and you could tell he was starting to realize just how much time he'd spent talking to you instead of attending his meeting. The easy conversation had made you both lose track of time completely. You handed him back his phone, but before you could say anything, he quickly added, "Let me give you my number too."

You began fumbling through your purse for your phone, your fingers clumsy with nervous energy, but before you could find it, you were interrupted by a loud voice from the Williams garage.

"Franco! Stop flirting and get over here. You're late, and James is pissed!" the mechanic yelled, his voice cutting through the paddock's ambient noise.

Franco looked over, frustration and guilt crossing his face in quick succession. "Sorry," he muttered to you, grabbing the sharpie back from your hand and hastily scribbling his number on your arm. His touch was gentle despite his hurry, and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Before you could even react, he gently handed you back the sharpie. "I'll see you around..." he said with a wink and a grin, before turning and jogging off toward the Williams garage. You watched him go, admiring how he somehow managed to make even a rushed exit look graceful.

You stood there for a moment, your heart racing, the cool sharpie mark on your arm tingling where his fingers had just been. The numbers were slightly smudged but still legible, and you couldn't help but trace them with your finger.  You smiled to yourself, looking forward to the next time you'd see him and happy with the most special signature you’d gotten that day.

✩₊˚.⋆ all work belongs to formulaisa. please don’t modify, translate, or share my writing, and don’t feed it to AI.

[dnpbeats]

I don’t think “the thing in March” is hard launch related and might just be another project, because Dan said either this scrapped video or touring is something Phil hasn’t done in a long time meaning they wouldn’t have been able to juggle both so im guessing they decided to wait it out

Okay so. At first I had the same thought as you and actually wrote a whole post about how it was gonna be a project and not a hard launch lol. But then I went back and watched the video again and I think it doesn’t necessarily have to be a project (though it could still be!). Dan phrased it a little confusingly (as always 💞) but I do think that when he said “this” was something that Phil hadn’t done in a while, he meant touring. Dan says they had one “idea [they] were gonna do” and then they were like “are we gonna go on tour.” I believe what he says after that is him talking about tour, so when he says it would be crazy, it’s something Phil hasn’t done in a while, etc., that’s all talking about the tour. Then Phil says he doesn’t know what Dan’s talking about, and then dan says “here we are in the timeline where we went on tour, and as for what the hell would’ve happened if dan and phil never did, you’ll find out in March.”

There are a few reasons why I don’t think it’s necessarily a different project:

Whatever got put on hold is something they’re still planning on doing, but phil doesn’t know what dan is talking about. And I just feel like, if it’s a project that they have lined up to announce in march, Phil would remember? Whereas if Dan is referring to coming out, it might not register in his mind immediately as “something that got scrapped”

For whatever reason, they felt like they needed to go on tour before this other thing happened. Let’s say it’s a project, wouldn’t it in some way make more sense to do that first because presumably they’d get even more engagement from it, thereby making their tour less risky? They’ve already talked about how they were surprised TIT tickets sold so fast and how excited ppl were/are for it. Doing a less-risky project beforehand would’ve put them in a better position to go on tour! So it’s really curious that they decided they couldn’t do this thing before the tour, but it needed to wait til after

“What the hell would have happened” is much different than “what would we have done/released” but dan does not always talk with the most precision so this one is loose lol

If dan thinks the reveal will happen only a month after the tour ends, it is either a one time thing or something that takes little prep but is ongoing (hence why it couldn’t be happening in the middle of tour, not able to juggle both like u said)

So anyway those are my thoughts. Like part of me feels like im clowning big time because it’s a tale as old as time to assume d&p are hard launching and then actually they’re doing something else. But it’s undeniable that the energy has been different lately. Plus I have been wrong about so many things in the past (them going on tour and them making full-fledged coming out videos just to name a few 😂) so hey. Maybe it’s time I just say the impossible is gonna happen

(My thoughts if it’s not a hard launch are podcast as others have suggested as it ticks the box for reason #4 I gave. I don’t think it’s a pet adoption (other theory I’ve seen ppl say) as I think it’s related to media (video/audio) in some way. Idk why Dan’s mind would go to dog when he heard “scrapped video”)

guys or maybe it’s amazingdan 3 ❤️ stranger things have happened

[cocoa-rococo]

thinking about the koopalings again, and i feel like a lot of people gloss over the interesting angst of larry and ludwig being parallels of one another, in the sense that both want what the other has, and NEITHER OF THEM fucking realize it.

it's a somewhat common headcanon that larry is a bit of a slacker; it's confirmed in his bio that he mainly does what he does because he's driven by being hungry or not wanting bowser to yell at him (which honestly? same). he's often imagined as the youngest of his siblings, and when you have six other highly accomplished people before you, having done some amazing things, living up to those standards feels nigh impossible, especially when you're constantly asked "why can't you be more like your siblings".

ludwig, meanwhile, is a prodigy. he excels in magic, leading both his siblings and part of an army, an outstanding performer and conductor, and being overall a role model to many. he's a perfectionist, striving to maintain his image as being competent and in control of any situation, but when you have not just your siblings, but almost an entire army looking up to you, that image needs to be held up constantly, with little time or room for experimentation and mistakes.

ludwig is always asking larry why he doesn't just apply himself more, since he can easily accomplish things if he puts his mind to it, not realizing that larry IS. he's trying desperately to be good at everything he does, whatever it might be, just like ludwig, but when your sibling is able to master things in what seems like one night, being told he's just not trying hard enough doesn't feel very encouraging.

larry is always asking ludwig why he can't just take a break and calm down, seeing as he's already amazing, not realizing that ludwig ISN'T. he's working so hard to thrive in whatever he does, staying up late to finish perfecting his work, unable to tolerate errors even when juggling several tasks, but when your sibling manages to do well by doing almost nothing, being told to just take a break isn't helpful nor useful.

larry is so envious of ludwig being effortlessly talented at everything and managing to never fail at anything, completely unaware he's one potential failure away from shutting down. ludwig so desperately wants larry's ability to relax and take things easy, completely unaware larry is struggling to be productive and accomplish anything at all.

ludwig wishes he could be mediocre, because everyone is watching him. larry wishes he could be perfect, because nobody is watching him.

they're so, so close, and yet so far away.

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

           Shinomiya Reina, a 25 year old daughter of Freyr.            She is a piercer at Marimo Ink.

FC NAME/GROUP: miyawaki sakura / le sserafim CHARACTER NAME: shinomiya reina AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 25 / october 15 1998 PLACE OF BIRTH: oosaka, japan OCCUPATION: piercer at marimo ink HEIGHT: 163cm / 5'4" DEFINING FEATURES: dyed blond hair; faint scars on her knuckles that she covered up with flower tattoos, piercings on both ears, bottom lip, tongue and belly button; tattoos around her arms and torso.

PERSONALITY: with a carefree bordering on inconsequential energy, not really seeming to be bothered by most if not all things in life, reina has a more easygoing personality with a teasing striek and therefore being able to get along with most if not all kind of people. she's also rather adaptable, not seeming to be able to get frustrated regardless of how much things don't go her way or when she doesn't get things that she wants, also partially because of her more pragmatic side that simply accepts that things that must be done will be done and impossible things are impossible; that sometimes giving her the impression of someone very detached, bordering on apathetic towards things and even people around her. however, she's still enable/encourage any and everyone who comes to her asking for advice and/or if they should do this or that thing, coming back full circle to her carefree nature and just i do what i want so why shouldn't you do too sort of person.

   and, well, that end is a little more than an impression considering she does feel rather detached from the people around her, almost being unable to feel like she genuinely fits in whenever she goes since she never felt like that in the (admittedly few) places that she has been; simply being the type that has a lot of friends but few (if any) are people that she genuinely cares for and would put above her own needs and wants. reina doesn't necessarily keeps things about herself to herself, but won't talk about them unless prompted, however it might feel like she's telling stories of someone else, as if she was more of an witness than an active participant. she also used to have a much worse temper that mellowed down as she matured, though she still carries the scars of those times and will still break someone's nose if they tempt her enough.

   reina is a little of a flirt— that playful type that doesn't really mean it and is doing it more for the sake of getting a reaction from the other person than actually trying to pursue anything. she also isn't necessarily against casual sort of arrangements, but considering how she vehemently rejects any inheritance that she might've gotten from her father and how he walked away from her and her mother, she doesn't let herself indulge too much into them and would rather just pursue a proper relationship.

HISTORY: [tw: bullying, violence, death]

there are three (3) lessons that life taught reina so far.

lesson number one (1): do not fall for pretty faces.

   because mom did and that ended up with her carrying a child she didn't want, then getting kicked out of the family not long after. japan isn't a kind place for single mothers; neither is korea, however there were only so many times that you and your mother could take of her coming to school and bow her head because you picked yet another fight with someone who said something mean about your hair or the way you spoke. your mother is tired of having to raise a child with no support, juggling two jobs to make sure you two stay afloat and you're tired of people pointing faults at her for your raising as if they aren't the one with bad manners, talking shit about things they don't know anything about.

   there's an old friend in seoul, your mom says one day, offering a job that pays a little better and the weather is supposed to be a little nicer; there are a lot of great options for school and korean shouldn't be too hard to learn, even more so when it'll be a language that they'll be exposed a lot. she also says that a change of environment might be good, that you might finally be able to make some friends without the reputation of having broken someone's teeth at the age of fourteen because they looked at you weird — you don't have the courage to tell her that it was because they said something about her, questioning her character and her abilities as a mother. it'll be good, yeah? she holds your hand with so much hope and exhaustion in her eyes that you don't have the courage to say no; not that you would considering you had nothing in japan but resentment anyway.

   she never talks about your dad, not really, and after the first time that you tried to bring the subject up — because your school was organizing an event for father's day and it made her curious, not necessarily yearning, but curious — and the only thing that she had to say was don't fall for pretty faces, reina, they'll only ruin you with this weird look on her face, an expression that was between resentment and longing, you decide that it isn't really worth it.

   there's one time though— mom is doing first aid to your scraped knuckles, a soft tut that you're too young to have scars like that, but there's also a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, small and amused. you don't seem like your father's daughter, she says like it's a good thing or maybe it's because she's reminiscing something; either way you simply huff because i'm your daughter, you say like this nullifies who your dad is and that only makes mom smile a little wider.

lesson number two (2): do not pick up fights you can't win (and that fists aren't the only way to fight).

   not only physically (because you can win most of those anyway) but also socially. you learn the hard way to not punch someone whose parents donate a lot to the school and/or have a prestigious job in society— or you should at least beat them up enough that they won't have the courage to tell on you to their parents or the teachers. japan wasn't a kind place for the daughter of a single mother; neither is korea— you still hear whispers about your broken korean, the character of your mother, speculations about the reason you had to move out in the middle of the school year, the reason why your nose looks so ugly. you still have your belongings messed with and cold milk spilled on your head.

do not pick up fights you can't win because losing leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, because the floor that you and your mom press your foreheads on as you apologize is freezing, because that's what your mother tells you when she grits her teeth and swallows down her pride because they don't have the money to move out again, because you two are hanging on a thin thread in this new country and coming back to japan isn't really an option.

   maybe your pretty face is the only good thing he has left for you, your mom comments without specifying who this he is but you know anyway. then you grit your teeth while swallowing down your temper and play on your pretty privilege instead; that's how you survive the rest of high school.

lesson number three (3): no one will care for yourself besides yourself.

   well, there was mom, but then she dies all of a sudden and now you're all alone.

   the world seems to be in the way to its end with how hard is the downpour outside while you pick up your mother's bones after the cremation; it was hard to find a funeral home that made the ceremony under japanese traditions but your mom's friend helped. your japanese family came all the way from japan for her funeral but you refuse to let them come in and participate; were tempted to kick them out of the ceremony as well however not even yourself was that petty. besides they seem regretful enough while promising that they'd never leave you alone again, that they'd do things properly this time.

   rationally you know that punching an old lady, even more so when she's your grandmother, is going to land you straight on jail, but you almost forget lesson number two when she starts talking about how they'd go back to japan with your mom and you; when she looks at the tattoos on your hands and arms and tuts, saying how it's a pity that you tainted your body in that way but nothing that long sleeves won't resolve, and they'd get the ones on your knuckles removed with treatment, the piercings on your face being able to be removed without much struggle either and a list of other things that at that point you aren't listening anymore; when she apologizes with a condescending sigh that she was too late, that she should've picked you up sooner because then you would've been raised "right".

   the rain outside gets even worse. there's an argument when you throw water at grandma's face in lieu of breaking her nose. you tell them to fuck off if they don't you want to throw the glass in your hand on them as well. they leave.

   still you aren't left alone; there's another person who seemed to be watching the whole spectacle, someone that you vaguely recognize that was also at mom''s tsuya. they offer their condolences that are easily brushed off, then they offer a place to start anew— a place away from all of this, all of the things that you struggled with so much so far. you don't accept the offer right away, not really, but in that moment the rain finally seems to give in, even if just a little.

PANTHEON: norse  CHILD OF: freyr POWERS: 

+ weather manipulation: through her emotions, when felt strongly, she can manipulate the weather — i.e. causing a downpour when upset, and prompting a sunny day when happy.

+ enhanced charm: due to her affinity to physical forms of affection combined with her easygoing personality, she does end up attracting more people to her than an average person is able to.

STRENGTHS: is very adaptable to the environment and people around her; always aims to excel in whatever she puts herself to do and has a good control over her emotions so usually when she ends up changing the weather it's on purpose. WEAKNESSES: so pragmatic that she can feel detached (bordering on apathetic) to the people around her; will always prioritize herself over other people and her carefree/teasing nature can rub off some people the wrong way.

[feministfocus]

Stress on Steroids: High School Edition

by Crystal Fan

Pulling all-nighters for exams. Dark eye circles. Classmates who are half asleep in class. My senior year of high school has been more hectic than I could have ever imagined. It seems like everybody is suffering from a concoction of feeling overwhelmed, senioritis (burnout), and a terrible case of stress. Looking around, the senior year has decimated us, with things coming at us a thousand miles per hour. For starters, there's academic pressure. Then there are extracurriculars, family life, friends and relationships, cats on the internet, and the black hole that is social media. The cherry on top is college applications. Senior year is a never-ending to-do list requiring a NASA-level scientific and precise approach to time management and perfection. In short, it's impossible. There is no human way to juggle everything. There are too many balls in the air. 

Eventually, something gives. We sacrifice things. Sleep. Mental health. Not to mention sanity (some of which I'd like to keep in case I need it one day). It is almost as if we live in a never-ending cycle of to-do lists, exams, and the pursuit of accomplishments. This quickly becomes exhausting. 

In short, high school, especially senior year, is a breeding ground for stress. Stress multiplies and feeds off of everybody in a frenzy. The statistics speak for themselves. Approximately 45% of high schoolers report experiencing stress daily (CrossRiverTherapy). Roughly 61% of teenagers between the ages of 13-17 admit to feeling pressure to attain high grades.

Generally, there are two types of events that cause stress: external and internal. External event-driven stress typically dissipates after the event is over. Internal event-driven stress is caused by thoughts and things we say to ourselves. 

While some stress can be beneficial and acts as a motivator to prepare us for events, too much stress leads to unhealthy short-term repercussions such as fatigue, insomnia, unhealthy relationships with food, trouble focusing, and becoming overly anxious or depressed. But chronic stress? A whole different ball game. According to the Mayo Clinic, chronic stress holds severe consequences such as muscle tension and pain, headaches, weight gain, and even heart attacks. 

Stress is a fact of life. It is inevitable. There is no way to avoid it; once you get comfortable, life throws you another curveball. So the question is: do we manage stress so it doesn't take over our lives? 

Well, here are some stress management tips Harvard University has for high schoolers: 

Keep a journal

Download a mindfulness or meditation app

Eating healthy meals

Exercising regularly 

Getting plenty of sleep

Limiting caffeine

Reaching out to family and friends for support

Making time for hobbies

Some tips that have worked for me:

Start a gratitude journal. Spend 5 minutes daily jotting down things, events, or people you feel grateful for. Even something that brings you the slightest amount of joy counts

Establish a meditation routine that works for your schedule, and meditate for at least 5 minutes daily. 

Talk to someone. You don't need a therapist to feel better. You can talk to a trusted confidant about your worries, concerns, and challenges. You are not alone. There is always someone willing to listen. 

Additionally, you can try:

Volunteering in the community. Science has shown that giving back makes people feel better. 

Finding ways to laugh more. Spend time with people who make you feel good, watch a comedy, or find memes online. 

Seeking professional help through counseling or therapy. Mental health services can be highly beneficial. 

Citations:

https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/stress-management/in-depth/stress/art-20046037

[pentition]

do you think pen was actually dating 12 others or was that part of the lie?

SPOILERS!

I'm not going to ever say it's impossible. There are so many variables to take into account in Sandrock, I feel like. Maybe he has partners back home? Or was having flings with tourists that passed through and they got attached to him? Despite how many people can see through Pen's image, plenty of others would be susceptible to him. I can believe he has fans and even encourages them to be disillusioned. Whether that's because of what his role actually is (Duvos spy/knight) and it suits his purpose or because he just likes it, who is to say.

Personally, I like believing it was part of the lie - or something similar. I like the idea that maybe his experimentation and the way he was raised up as a super soldier led to a more peculiar social experience. I can believe he has experience with partners but never anything he wanted to commit to or could commit to. Maybe the 12 others was an outright lie or, at the very least, were people who fawned over him that he enabled. You know, hardcore fans he gives just enough to keep leashed. Because I don't actually think Pen cares enough about flings to 'upkeep them with gifts' and pay for them in one way or another.

I think for those that did and didn't romance Pen, it was lashing out. For those that didn't, it could be a brag or him minimizing things to be cruel or because he actually believes it himself. For those that did romance Pen, I can see it as him being cruel in a more personal way. Whether that's because of guilt/make himself not have to confront how he feels by pushing the Builder away or something else I'm not sure. It can go so many directions. But I think it's more interesting writing if it's not true. I love me some flawed characters.

The idea that Pen is a super soldier that has only known duty is fun. Been done before, sure, but it still works. I can imagine his social network is compromised of people who are a part of his true role primarily, then those useful to it. So I imagine him coming into Sandrock means he already has a set opinion on the others, getting close to them could either not be an initial interest or something he knows better than to do. Being the untouchable hero suits him well then, always out of reach. The Builder presents something different. Someone new and unaccounted for has arrived that didn't fit the original plan for Pen.

Ernest is new but he's also a journalist, Pen has reasons to not get chummy. Mi-an is new but maybe there wasn't any incentive on either end to get to know one another. Maybe Mi-an fell easily into being like the rest of the Sandrockians with how easily she befriended some of them? Just speculations here.

But it all comes back to his comment on having 12 babes he's simultaneously cheating on with. I like to think it's a lie or exaggeration or some kind because I feel like it opens up a lot of interesting possibilities then for character development. Also I can't see Pen, at this point in time, genuinely caring to juggle taking care of others in that way. That's both emotionally and mentally, but also because of how dedicated and loyal he is to Duvos and the constant patrols he goes on. I just can't imagine he has the time beyond pausing on his patrols or making time now and then to humor enabling someone to fawn over him more.

Which makes the player's situation with their Builder more unique, in my opinion. Shaking up his usual norms both socially and in regards to interfering with his work.

[alifewanderer]

Little Notes on New Year

Try to put on some words as we hit new year, it won't be the long-ass resolution like every each one of tumblr user did, it could be like, a reflection of things I went through this year, so, here it is,

2024 is a year of many perspectives has grown (..or maybe has dissapeared somewhere in the past but I rolled down and has been so lucky to finally get it back), it could be more than few things, like:

I could finally raise my voice again—literally saying yes only to what I truly meant and no to almost everyone else. It was so soothing to embrace that approach. While I feel more comfortable being vocal with people I trust, I still struggle to verbalize my thoughts around others. I’ve learned to express things I don’t like just as readily as I praise thoughtful attitudes or ideas. Living with this newfound freedom has made 2024 a wonderful year so far.

I stopped caring about what others might think or how they might label me. There was a time when I used to be deeply bothered by opinions, but something shifted within me. I realized that, no matter what I do, I’ll always be wrong in the eyes of those who dislike me. It’s simply impossible to be right all the time or to please everyone. Accepting this truth has been freeing—it’s helped me focus more on my own values and what genuinely matters to me, rather than constantly seeking approval or validation from others.

I used to feel like I missed out on one or two important things in the past. The more I reflect on it, the more I realize how much I wish I could go back and fix certain things. It feels like, as we grow older , we develop this strong desire to advise our younger selves—or maybe that’s just me. If I could, I’d go back and undo some of the mistakes I made, knowing now that I could have done better. Looking back, I also recognize how much I missed having proper guidance and adult supervision during those crucial years. Perhaps things would have been different with the right support, but those experiences have shaped me into who I am today, and they continue to fuel my determination to grow and improve, in some ways, it brought fulfillment, but in other ways, it left behind regrets.

I’ve come to fully realize that I dwelled on my past for far too long. In 2024, for the very first time, I tried reaching out to someone from my past who I thought was partly accountable for the way I felt. But what I learned through that experience is a profound truth: you can’t rely on anyone else to resolve your inner struggles. At the end of the day, it’s about you—your own strength, decisions, and willingness to let go and move forward. It’s you who holds the responsibility to untangle your thoughts, break free from the weight of the past, and take charge of your own journey. This realization, though difficult, has been an essential step in reclaiming my sense of freedom and self-worth.

2024 was a year filled with exciting journeys and meaningful milestones. My 4-year-old, Rania, started a new school, and I also took a Montessori class for my 2-year-old. On the outside, I may have seemed like just a mother juggling work and the endless demands of daily life. But on the inside, I was navigating through a whirlwind of inner battles and realizations. Each challenge brought its own lessons, and through it all, I’ve grown stronger and more grounded. I’m incredibly grateful to have reached this phase of life, where I can reflect on my blessings and find joy in the little moments.

As for 2025? I’ve never felt more ready to embrace what’s ahead. Let’s go.

[rndyounghowze]

PHL-8: The Lehman Trilogy

Written By Stefano Massini

Adapted By: Ben Power

Directed By Terrence J Nolen

Presented By:

Arden Theatre Company

tinyurl.com/Get-Lehman-Tix

Dana and I were in college during the Great Recession. Back then you didn’t have to follow the financial news to know that things were dicey. You just had to look at all of the foreclosed houses. You just had to look at all of the jobs that we applied for and found out that no one was hiring. If you have never heard the name Lehman, America’s oldest investment bank and the subject of Massini’s play, in your life you would be forgiven. Massini’s play and The Arden unfold the story of how one of the tent poles of the great experiment called “capitalism” rose from a simple store and slowly ate itself to death.

This play unfolded a docudrama about capitalism that Ken Burns couldn’t direct. It’s a microcosm of how these institutions started and when and how they were able to take over. By first talking about the three brothers humanizes capitalism. In fact, he made it funny (the scoundrel) Also The Lehman Trilogy written by an Italian debuted in London and has an objectivity that we feel could have never been written stateside. It would have been either much harsher on the downfall of a company or it was going to focus too much on the stereotype of the “immigrant story”. This play is VERY American for only having America in the plot.

Dana wants to give this director and his crew a standing ovation. We never felt the time. In every show we have ever seen there was this unspoken agreement that runtimes are just suggestions. Even the most well-meaning shows can drag a tiny bit if they have a three-hour run time. We came in at 1 PM and when the play was over it was 4 PM as promised. Somehow the minute that the lights dimmed and the show started again it felt like time stopped. We were somehow transported one hour into the future when the lights rose at intermission. We credit Nolen with this but there had to be a sweet science between performer, director, and text that sucked us in. Also, Nolen’s ability to juggle so many characters and so many plotlines with only three actors and one set is a huge accomplishment.

Dialect and movement are the only costumes that kept changing. A suit is a suit. Shoes are shoes. But the changing of speech and movement was the crux of what made this play work. Hartley was able to instill vocal confidence into the ensemble so that they could change dialects like changing hats. How dare Cotton be so good! We never thought that the female characters were caricatures put on by men. They felt real, authentic, unique, and individual. Each one had their own movement, shape, and stance. That’s not an easy thing to teach. Cotton’s ability to interpret each character and then create a movement language with the cast is a masterclass in movement arts.

One thing that we have noticed with scripts that come out of Europe is that they place a ton of faith on their performers’ shoulders. In this performance, it is impossible for this ensemble of three to have a bad day. They are carrying all of the characters, all of the plot, all of the story, all of it. Like the tightrope walker in Times Square if they fall just once then the play is doomed. These performers are moving non-stop for an hour at a time, three hours a performance, and sometimes twice a day. That is a marathon feat that cannot easily be accomplished. Add to that all the accent movements, gestures, throwing props around, and never missing a beat. This is the kind of performance that people drive three hours from DC to see.

[abbyhogan15]

Turning Childhood Dreams into a Reality: A Job in Wedding Planning

In the last blog I talked about being an event planner and this week I want to pick a specialization which is wedding planning. In the past couple months I have had the opportunity to help a friend with her wedding. I was able to set up her engagement party which was so fun and now I am helping with some ideas for the bachelorette. I think weddings are so fun and I would like to help people have the happiest day of their life. Also, I would never have an opportunity to experience a downturn in a job because people never stop getting married. 

The pros of being a wedding planner consist of running your own business, you are your own boss, you determine your salary, be full time or part time, you could be a day coordinator, networking opportunities, the market is huge and you are a part of someone’s happiness. The cons consist of you dealing with difficult clients, something could go wrong, juggle many brides at the same time, someone will expect the impossible, a long way to the top, pay isn’t great in the beginning, and you need to deal with the emotions of others. 

To become a wedding planner (with no experience) you should get some wedding planning experience by taking an online course. This will teach you the ins and outs of planning and the course will show you the ropes of planning a wedding/events. Step two is to intern with some wedding planning companies or wedding venues. Next would be to decide if you want to work with a company or on your own. The biggest thing is you don’t need a degree to be a wedding planner. You should be driven to help the couple create something memorable and special. 

Wedding planners can make anything from $32k to $86k. As a beginner you are starting low on the pole, but when you start to build experience and clientele that's when you start to make more money. You need to create a name for yourself and that's when others refer you to their friends, to give you more income. 

I would rate myself becoming a wedding planner a 8/10. What I love the most about being a wedding planner is seeing the vision come to life and helping 2 people have the happiest day of their life. I feel like wedding planning will never have a dull moment either, you are constantly doing something or helping someone. 

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three – Chrono

Warnings: grief, resentment, lactation, animal death

----

For all that Anakin had said he could handle the twins, Rex still takes one in the sling as they go into town. They don't have a hoverpram yet, and neither of them could figure out a way to fold the fabric to securely hold the babies' heads up. Anakin takes Luke, and Rex takes Leia, and they ignore the whispers that still follow them.

The General keeps just behind his shoulder when they get to the hardware shop that carries the closest paint they can find in such a small town. It's not meant for armor, really, but speeder paint will do the trick for now. Rex's hands shake as he picks out the shades he needs, and the young Rodian at the register almost asks about it.

The issue isn't pressed.

They make their way back to the cottage, and Leia starts fussing fifteen minutes past the town's edge. Anakin looks like he wants to offer to take her back, but Rex is fine. He can comfort her. He can--

Anakin takes the paint, floating it along in the air before them, freeing Rex's hands to focus on the infant strapped to his chest.

"I'll feed her as soon as we get back," Anakin says, low and calm. "She's a little hungry."

Pacifier, then. They're only a few minutes out, by now. She can wait for them to get back to where exchanging the twins won't involve juggling.

Rex feels eyes on him, looks up and sees the soft, quiet smile on his General's face, and ducks his head back to Leia.

She glares up at him as well as a newborn can, sucking angrily on the paci in her mouth. Rex has no idea if she's actually upset or if her face just naturally follows such an expression, but it's adorable nonetheless. He hums to her, nonsense without words.

He's never learned lullabies; they picked up drinking songs in the field and from local soldiers, from their Jedi, war songs from their trainers, pop songs from the radio. A few learned lullabies, those who loved children and wanted their own, one day, brothers like Waxer who would have adopted Numa in a heartbeat if it had been an option.

He wants to learn lullabies. He wants to be able to sing children's songs to these tiny, helpless lives he holds in his hands, day in and day out. He wants to learn Mandalorian songs, real ones, not just battle chants and mourning melodies. He wants to be able to raise them with the childhood he didn't have.

"Rex? Door's open."

He looks up, and Anakin's standing on the porch, pulling the keys from the lock and gesturing in with his head. Rex hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking, subconsciously waiting for the blockage of the door to be handled. It's easier to focus on the children.

The paint gets sent to the backyard--trapped fumes wouldn’t be good for the children--and Rex lays Leia down in her crib. Anakin urges him to the backyard, says I’ll handle it about anything Rex uses to delay, and it’s only a few minutes later that Rex finds himself sitting on the grass, armor spread across a sheet of disposable flimsi, paints and brushes at the ready. He doesn’t quite remember setting it up, but he must have.

Anakin joins him, a twin in each arm and the Force laying out a picnic blanket. Leia’s nursing, swaddled up but content to suckle, and Luke seems happy to doze when Anakin sets him down on the cotton gingham. It’s a warm day, with a light breeze, and the babies are where the wind won’t carry the paint fumes.

“I’m here if you need me,” Anakin promises, though his attention drifts immediately to his daughter.

Rex begins to paint.

----

His remembrances are endless.

Every brother he’s ever known, every general he’s met, every small commander and random civilian, everyone he loved and knew. He lights a pyre, sings under his breath and tries not to break in a way that can’t be patched together. He mourns the tubies and cadets, the Jedi younglings, names he never learned and now never would.

Anakin gets Japor from somewhere, carves it whenever he’s too jittery to sleep and the twins are asleep. Rex recognizes a few symbols, like the open circle fleet, like Fives’ helmet eel, like Ahsoka’s markings. There are more, though, that are wholly unfamiliar, things he thinks are born of desert sands and binary suns, rough and painful and deeper in Anakin’s heart than even the Jedi.

He asks about the one for Fives, when he sees it.

He hides his anger.

Explanations, first.

“It’s an apology,” his General tells him, eyes distant. “I should have listened to him. I didn’t. The carvings are regrets, broken trust... that sort of thing. I’m part of why he died, and in that, part of why the rest is gone. He and his memory deserve a place of honor.”

Rex considers that, and accepts it.

Fives deserves an apology. The General recognizes that.

The General recognizes that he fucked up.

This is a good thing.

Rex lets go of his anger, still curled tight to his chest after months, as best he can.

He’s not very good at it, but he can try.

Luke starts crying, and Rex gets up to warm a bottle.

----

“I need to stay close to home until the twins are a little older,” Rex says. Teskarim, the woman at the childcare store, tilts her head to encourage him to continue. “I’m... I’ve never been anything but a soldier, and nobody here needs security services, but I can hunt. Do you know if there’s any kind of licenses required, or lists of which animals are legal hunt and which are endangered?”

“I... don’t,” she says, chewing her bottom lip. “But I think the butcher’s shop can probably point you in the right direction.”

Damn. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone new today.

“Thanks,” he sighs, and shells out some of the local currency for more formula.

----

The butcher has answers, and preferences. Rex isn’t much of a trapper, but he’s a hell of a shot, and decent enough scout and tracker. He listens to what there is to hear, and mentally takes all the notes he can. There aren’t any licenses needed in this hemisphere, but there are legally-defined hunting seasons for different creatures. The butcher knows when the optimal times of day are, which parts of the nearby forest and mountains are best to stake out, and so on.

Rex tells Anakin about his plan. He gets a slow blink in response, a cringe in what he thinks is guilt, and an offer to meditate for the best direction to take when he goes out. He accepts the offer in the spirit its meant, and sets out the next morning with the expectation that he may need to spend a few nights out under the leaves and stars.

The calm and quiet are their own kind of comfort. He’s loyal to Anakin, and he already loves the twins, but there’s a part of him that needs to be away from natborns right now. Anakin was a Jedi, a general, and fought in the metaphorical trenches with the rest of them, but he wasn’t a brother.

They grieve many of the same people, but they do not grieve the same way.

Rex needs the solitude. Not forever, not even for very long, but he needs it.

It takes two days, but he finds one of the in-season creatures, a creature shaped much like an Alderaan deer, but larger, and with longer fur. It’s darker in color, too, and he gives it a bit of time to wander about until he can be sure it’s a male, and he’s not about to leave some fawns without a mother. The shot is clean, and it doesn’t take him very long to tie it up and sling it over his shoulders to bring back to town.

The trek back takes hours, and the creature on his back is a pain to carry, but it’s almost worth the looks he gets from the civvies. Eyes bulge out the sockets at the sight of him, and he’s glad his helmet hides his smirk. He’s Kamino stock, hardened by over three years on the front lines, and there’s a pride in how easy the physical things are for him. It’s not impossible for a natborn to carry this kind of creature this far without help, but it’s uncommon.

He kind of likes the attention, now that it doesn’t come with the many prejudices that being a clone always had.

Anakin meets him at the butcher’s, one twin on his chest and the other on his back.

Seems he’s found a solution to that.

“Here to help me barter a fair payment?” Rex asks, and gets a too-charming grin in response.

“Well, I’ve been doing it most of my life,” Anakin says, cheery in a way that feels pasted on. “And I’ll have a trick to know if we’re being cheated.”

It’s a solid response, but Rex doesn’t like it. He takes note of the bags under Anakins eyes. “Have you been sleeping, sir?”

“Twins,” the man himself says. “And don’t call me ‘sir,’ Rex, we’ve been over this.”

“You need to sleep, General.”

Anakin pouts at him, probably because of the title. “I can handle two days alone, Captain.”

Rex rolls his eyes and sidles through the entrance of the butcher’s shop.

They’ve got this.

[mercurial-madhouse]

Tips for Writing Multiple Fics at Once

"I always feel like there is this one little secret to writing multiple stories at the same time that just nobody is telling me about."

A fellow author made this comment in a writers’ group chat today. If you're a writer, chances are you have a folder of ideas waiting to be written. Writers are idea-generating machines. Maybe you even have stories started and set aside, begging you to Write me!. 

If you write fanfiction, where shorter tales are constantly appealing to be started and a multiplicity of prompts and Fic Fests await you, that list of stories you're dying to write can grow taller than Jack's beanstalk. The answer for some authors? Write multiple fics at the same time! Why not?

I'd never consciously thought about my process before, but for anyone who is interested in having more than one story in the works at once, here are my thoughts compiled into something coherent.

*

CREATE AN OVERVIEW DOCUMENT.  We try to use our brains to store everything, but the human mind isn't programmed like that. (All of us who have more than one fic in progress will joke about how terrible our memories are.) It's like only knowing how to juggle three balls but refusing to let go of the five balls you're planning on learning to juggle next. Set those fic-balls down. Turn each story into a physical or electronic sticky note, so to speak. Include as many or as few details as you want, but what’s important is that you can see them all at once. Here are some ideas: -Colour code your documents on Google Docs. Before writing, look at them all and ask the question above, making a conscious choice to write just one colour. Once that Google Doc is open, the others don't exist. -Have due dates? Compile a list of your stories by due date. Do you have to go with the earliest? No, but if dates are important to you, it could be helpful to sort it that way. -(Yoinked this technique from a beloved author of mine.) Compile a single bullet journal page each month with your entire story list. The six most important stories each have a checklist that includes things like due date and the status, such as: brainstormed, started, completed, edited, etc. The rest are just listed by title and due date. -Maybe you need a happy medium? How about an electronic document where you can see everything on one screen with the bare essentials: Title, summary, due date (if applicable), and your progress. (i.e. 15k/50k or 1/4 or even “HALFWAY THERE!”)

Have fun! By checking what you have in process each time you sit down to write, you're less likely to be concerned about forgetting an upcoming due date.

*

PICK ONE. Active, single-minded focus is important whether you have other stories waiting in the wings or not. Having multiple stories in process simply means that sitting down for a writing session includes an extra step, a question:

Which story am I going to focus on right now?

How you make that decision and for how long that choice stands is a topic for a different post. What's important here is that once you decide, you stick to it. All of your other stories do not exist while you are in this document.

*

STICK TO IT.

You may choose to write that one story for 10 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour, an entire day, or even until the draft is completed. But the biggest secret to writing multiple stories at once is... *drumroll please*

...not writing multiple stories at the same time. Truly. This may appear obvious, but hear me out. Take a look at your thoughts the next time you're writing: Are they always focused on the story in front of you? Probably not. No matter how many stories we have that are in process, we are never actively working on more than one at one time. 

I can hear the questions flying now. What if I forget something in another story? What if I focus too long on this one and run out of time on another? What if I can't stop thinking about another story? What if I'm always having all these ideas for my other stories even when I'm working on one?

If an idea for another story barrels into your skull while writing, scribble it down in a notebook and set it aside for later. Can't stop thinking about a different story than the one you chose? Then turn your focus and give yourself some time to choose that one. Trust yourself.

*

THE TAKEAWAY.

This isn't a magical formula by any means. Ask any author who has several stories in progress and their practices will be different. Trial and error are your best friends for finding what works for you. Will it take practice? Yep. Extra work? Yep. A mindset shift? Probably. Dedication in order to keep your focus on one story? Yep. Is it impossible? Absolutely not! So even if you have fifty in-process stories, when you sit down to write, my recommendation is to know your options (overview), make your choice (Which story am I working on right now?), then stick to it (Write me!).

Have something else you’d like to chat about? I’m open to anything concerning the writing process. My goal is to keep writers writing by offering tips and tricks I’ve learned along the way.

You’ll find my Plotting vs. Pantsing fictalk here.

[twentytarot]

hi everyone! today we’re going to be doing a quick reading about who your forever is. i didn’t specify what information i wanted from the piles so each pile will touch on different parts of your connection with your forever. pick the image that sets your thoughts off and scroll down to your respective pile for your reading~ 💞

PILE ONE: CASTLE

hello, group one! okay, so your cards are all circling around an event. someone that you trust betrays you and leaves you feeling like you have nothing. what you maybe didn’t realise until this point is you can’t keep juggling all of this at once; one of the balls will drop sooner or later. and so, with this betrayal comes a moment where you must take a step back and reevaluate. it’s an “oh my god, i need to take a break from everything before i explode moment”. i can’t say i know 100% why this event is related to your forever, but it is key. maybe it gives you the opportunity to look around and realise they were there all along, a calm, unassuming friend you never realised could love you more than anyone else.

your forever is likely a pisces or a leo. on the outside they may seem very... hmm. boring? slow? like they will never make an impulsive step in their lives. they’re quite a bit more exciting once you get to know them for real, though. they’ve gotten the balance of work and play down much better than most. they will be a stabling force in your life. if you haven’t met them yet, you will within the next 9 months to 3 years!

PILE TWO: HAIR PIN

for a very split second there, you will be heartbroken by the revelation of a secret. but just as quickly as you cut off whatever was built upon that lie, this person comes along. they’re likely a pisces or a virgo, possibly cancer as well. this person is overflowing with stories to tell you, feelings to share with you, comfort and advice to give to you. if you ever get insecure and consider retreating to your old ways, hiding yourself away and dimming your own light, this person will pull you right out of it. they’ll be the first to tell you how much they appreciate you and how proud of you they are. all at once, they are your wish come true, they are everything you were waiting for. however, they’re not the most adventurous person. they’re a bit of a homebody, and honestly would rather just stay home and work than go out camping or something. they probably couldn’t give a damn that most clubs have shut indefinitely. you’ll have to drag them out if you want to go somewhere further than a 20 minute drive for dinner. they’d do it for you, though.

PILE THREE: DRESS

you will have to cross mountains and swim across rivers to be with this person. they’re not someone that’s really like the people you’re around right now. are your friends and family serious overachievers that are all successful doing their 9-5 thing? your forever is an artist, and you are their muse. you embody art and beauty to each other, and you love each other also in that intangible, impossible way. but because of that, you will get some pushback from those around you right now. in particular, friends and malicious family members will burden you by spreading their opinions of your relationship as rumours and facts. your mother, in particular, comes across as someone who could save or end you. regardless, you will find it is safer to be further away physically. i get the feeling that you don’t entirely have your own physical space from everyone right now. people impose upon you easily. you’re kind of desperate to leave but you don’t know how. with this person, there won’t even be a question— into the scary world you will go with them, and, amongst the bad, you will build your own little heaven with this person, because you love each other in a way everyone you left in the past will never know, and that’s all that matters. prominent zodiac signs are taurus and libra.

PILE FOUR: COUPLE

it looks like it might take two tries with this person to get it right, but when you do, it’s so romantic and fated. the first time you’re with this person, it will already be romantic, but you both will be a little immature. there will be lessons you learn from each other— divine lessons— and there may especially be a problem in the competition department. the both of you are probably neck and neck in terms of success in your individual lives, so you will naturally see each other as competitors. there will be moment where you accidentally see them as a competitor before a lover, and the relationship will break down. alone, you will realise it wasn’t worth it. after learning important lessons from each other, your relationship will grow again, and this time it will be so much stronger. your forever will only have eyes for you. they’re very intense, likely a scorpio (though pisces did turn up for your reading too). when one of you is going through a hard time, the other will feel their pain and lift them up instead of feeling like they just defeated an enemy. your souls are connected in many ways, and you will be in a relationship that’s very much like the romanticised “twin flames” people talk about nowadays. don’t feel like a bad person for the lessons they will teach you, you’re both learning about loving someone wholeheartedly, and it’s a tough one that very few people have the opportunity to witness, much less experience.

[morizoras-cave]

Sleepyhead (Request)

MCU cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Request Description: Hiya♥️could i please request a teen x marvel cast were they always find her sleeping and taking naps everywhere around set and they confront her about it and she says something about having to take care of her little siblings because her parents are never arohnd do she gets no sleep. Sorry if its to long.❤❤❤❤❤😍🥰

Warnings: irresponsible parents, negligence, slight insecurity, stress

(A/N): sorry this is kind of centered around benedict, i find these mcu cast x reader ones difficult. also im watching a belarusian war-movie from 1985 about the holocaust. its absolutely terrifying (im very serious, i’d be cautious for trigger warnings). if you’re looking for a horror movie or something, search “come and see movie” on youtube and you’ll find the entire thing there (:

At first, it had been sweet. A testament to the insomniatic youth, if you will. In every closet, behind every door, and on every soft surface, you could be found in between takes, snoring away.

They all agreed you were probably watching movies or playing games up late at night, computer screen illuminating your face. Or maybe you were chatting with your faraway friends. Either way, it was almost endearing to find you drooling on the couches scattered around the set.

Sweet and endearing at first, yes. But then the feelings about it, the longer it went on, the more your mature and well behaved personality clashed with the idea of you staying up all night, the more the feelings about your frequent naps changed.

To the set workers, the coordinators and overseers of the countless tasks on set, it became an issue. 

“Where’s Y/n? We need them for the next scene!” 

More often than not, several people would be running around set in search of you. And of course you apologized profusely when they found and woke you, but it didn’t matter when you never changed.

But to your coworkers, the talented actors and actresses on set of this huge movie production, it was concerning. Because you were their friend, undoubtedly. 

When you would be pulled out a distant break room, rubbing your dark and drowsy eyes, mumblings would start among them. 

“Are they okay?” 

“They just seem so sensible, I don’t understand why they would stay up like that.” 

And then there was you. Young and unfortunate you. Just trying to do your best, trying to please everyone. It was impossible for anyone to know how much you were juggling with. 

You felt like a bird with a broken wing, still flying but bound to fall to its death. You knew it was too much. You knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. 

Most teens felt stressed with just schoolwork, and then there was you. Battling long set days and huge mounts of schoolwork. And then the family.

Your parents that never seemed to be around. They were both working all the time and often left you and your siblings to yourselves. The problems with that was that you were the eldest, and your siblings were too young to take care of themselves. You were the one left to bring home groceries, to make dinner, to bring them to bed, and to help them with any of their schoolwork or difficulties. 

And it was too much. Simply put it was too much for you. You had managed back when you were just another teen at school, but now you were in a movie, you had a JOB.

Usually you’d go to set and work your ass off, get home and help the kids all day, and then do your schoolwork in the night. You almost never got more than an hour or two of sleep, which was why you settled for small naps during your filming sessions. 

You were so stressed, and you wanted to be angry, because in truth you had every right to. But you were too tired and too busy to be angry. Too focused on your siblings and doing good as an actor. But you would never want to involve your coworkers. You thought it would be embarrassing and unprofessional to involve them. So you carried the weight all alone.

“Wake up! Wake up!” 

Someone was shaking you awake. You blinked your eyes open. A redhead set assistant was yelling in your face, grasping your shoulders. 

She stopped when she saw your eyes turning to slits, before widening to look at her. 

“Am I on?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. The lady scoffed.

“Are you on? Yeah, you’re on,” she spat and swung around, heels clicking on the floor, as she exited the break room briskly.

You were ashamed. Of course you were. You were so unprofessional and problematic. But you knew you had no other time to sleep, so this was your only option. The thought made you want to cry. 

Instead, you stood up and walked to where the scene would be filmed, through several hallways and technical rooms, before you arrived to the large set. 

Benedict, Robert, Tom (Holland), Chris (Pratt), Pom, and Dave were all gathered and ready to film. Your face was on fire, so you avoided their gazes, and just got into position to film the next scene. 

Benedict and Robert exchanged glances as you yawned, but before they could talk to you (as it seemed everyone was getting fed up with your constant sleepiness) the director yelled “action”, and the acting resumed. 

You all did the scene and you, surprisingly, did okay for having woken up about five minutes earlier. You continued doing several scenes for the movie all together, going through about three full scenes.

When the director was satisfied, everyone started scattering. You, rubbing your tired eyes, was already beelining for the break room, hoping to see an empty couch for you to crash.

However, before you could sneak off to catch some z’s, you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. You blinked, turning around and gazing at the person who had grabbed your shoulder. It was Benedict, Robert, Tom and Chris not fat behind him. He had a stern look on his face. 

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” your tone was casual, or perhaps too exhausted to express any real emotion, but inside you felt your stomach churn with anxiety. 

“Why are you always sleeping?” Robert chimed in. 

“Yeah, because if you’re up watching Youtube or whatever, you probably shouldn’t!” Tom said.

“Not that we’re assuming that that’s what you’re doing! It’s just- You know..,” Chris explained, voice full of panic.

You smiled softly. You recognized that they were coming from a place of worry. Then, your heart sunk slightly. You could cry. Again. Over the thought of your lack of time and your endless responsibilities. 

“It’s nothing serious, it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to figure out how you could make it sound less sad. Things always sounded worse when spoken out loud, you found. “I have two siblings, and my parents are never around, so I’m kind of the person taking care of them.” 

Your coworkers in front of you fell silent. You could see it on their faces. They didn’t like it. 

“You?” Robert said finally, and you just nodded. 

“So, you’re doing a movie, doing school, and taking care of your siblings at the same time?” Benedict repeated slowly, and once again you just nodded. There was nothing more to say. 

“Why aren’t your parents there?” Chris asked in his serious-unserious voice. 

“They’re working a lot,” you mumbled, disliking the collective attention on you. The thought of the couch made you yearn for some rest. You could tell that there were many things they wanted to do in that moment. They wanted to fix it all. 

“Can’t you tell them you don’t have time?” 

“I’ve tried that already. They say they don’t have a choice,” to this, both Robert and Benedict scoffed and shook their heads. You just watched with heavy eyes. 

“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Benedict said quietly, eyes boring into yours, “I’m going to call a nanny to look after your siblings for a couple of days, don’t worry I’ll pay. You’re going to back to the hotel and sleep for at least 10 hours. When you’ve done that, and only when you’ve done that, will we talk about how we’ll move forward with your parents.” 

You were quiet. You couldn’t stand up to your parents like Benedict wanted you to. You just couldn’t. They were busy and that was understandable. 

Although, you had to admit, the thought of sleeping for 10 hours was enticing. Heck, worst case scenario, you could settle for 5! Your tiredness was like heavy cuffs and chains on your body, and Benedict stood with the shining, golden key right in front of you. 

“Benedict, I- I can’t do that to my parents-”

“No, your parents can’t do this to you! This is absolutely outrageous!” He was frustrated you could tell. Robert seemed upset too, while Tom and Chris stepped back and let the adults handle it. Though, they seemed sad for you. 

You went quiet. 

“I just-” 

“I don’t want to hear another word about how they’re somehow excused for their behavior. This is negligence, Y/n! This is too much for you and you know it! You’re exhausted and it’s so painful to see, so please. Just take me up on this.”

You sighed.

“Alright, then.” you said, body finally giving in to the attractive offer. Benedict’s face carried the ghost of a satisfied smile, before going back to the stone cold determination. 

You drove to the hotel in Robert’s car and they booked you an extra room, knowing that your siblings occupied the other one. As soon as you could fall back on the bed, you were gone, body screaming for rest. 

You woke up 14 hours later, feeling happier, brighter and well-rested. That feeling had been forgotten by you, but it was alright, you decided. Every inch of you blossomed with energy now. 

As promised, Benedict had ordered a nanny for your siblings (the nanny was a lovely human being, and simply amazing with kids). Benedict, Robert, Chris and Tom has split the bill. 

You called him when you woke up, and he dragged you to a restaurant, where the two of you had a long, long talk about why what your parents were doing was serious and unacceptable. He could tell he needed to explain it to you, because you, like many children, were ready to defend your parents’ at all costs. 

Needless to say, after Benedict’s advice you didn’t have to go through that kind of thing again. You settled it with your parents (as well as your siblings), and after that you were so grateful that Benedict helped you out of that responsibility, because it wasn’t yours to have. 

Benedict was just happy to help, the memory of seeing you sleep everywhere, now less endearing and simply painful. He didn’t like thinking about it, and so he tried not to, but rather focused on your laughter and bright smile. In truth, that’s the only thing that really mattered. 

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun

[certified-dumbass02]

Alright yall, this is my first crack at an xreader or second person ficlet. I never actually felt the desire to read any until I saw Black Widow and fell in love at first sight with Yelena (self-explanatory). I don’t think I ever would have tried this but I was inspired by the lovely @peachbear88 and the song Clouds by Borns.

Let me know what y’all think

~*~

Clouds

Clouds

“Lena! Let’s go watch clouds!” You shout excitedly, bouncing up and down on your toes as you poke at the lump under the covers. A soft groan emanates as a blonde head pops out from her cocoon, blankets clinging to the top of her wild bed head like a nun’s habit.

Bleary green eyes squint at you as her face pinches up in an adorable yawn, and for an instant, you almost feel bad for waking her early on a weekend when she usually sleeps in. Almost.

You know Yelena, when she’s fully alert, has an active imagination that relishes its chances to run wild. Her mind works a mile a minute, and her watchful eyes catch everything with the excitement of a child and the experience of a worldly woman. It’s one of the many things you love about her. This activity is right up her alley, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

“Clouds? Is that a show?” Her accent is thicker and her voice rougher from sleep, so you grin at her and pat her head fondly as you sit on the bed next to her. She grunts, mumbles something about not being a cat, but leans into your hand as you smooth her hair down anyways.

“Not a show. It’s where you lay in the grass, look at the clouds, and try to see if you can interpret any shapes out of them.”

She frowns slightly. “Isn’t it supposed to rain today?”

“No! It’s the perfect day to go to the park. So sunny.”

A delicate blond brow quirks up, and you find yourself wondering how someone with sleep crust still in her eyes can look so devastatingly beautiful. “If it’s sunny, there won’t be clouds to watch, no?”

Yelena’s long eyelashes flutter against the back of your hand as you wipe the crust away adoringly. “Partly cloudy. But still sunny, so no rain.”

She smiles at you, soft in the light streaming through the window, and nods. “Alright, let’s go watch the clouds.”

~*~

The blanket beneath you is soft beneath your back, the sun warm on your face, and the smell of fresh cut grass fills the air as you lie in the park with Yelena, watching clouds.

As predicted, she’s taken to it like a duck to water.

“That one! That one right there!” She points excitedly, hand jutting up in the air in front of you. “It’s clearly a grenade launcher!”

You open your mouth to protest, but no sound comes at as you squint further at the cloud, because hey that actually does kind of look like that grenade launcher Yelena brought home that one time and giddily mounted on the-

“And that one is most definitely a ladybug,” she points at a different one, closer to her side.

Your face breaks into a smile. Yelena’s imagination is stretched so far to accommodate all she is and all she’s learned in her life; the way her mind works has you looking fondly at her in wonder and awe.

You recover yourself and your bearings before she notices you staring. “That one is a swan.”

She cocks her head slightly at you and frowns. “It can’t be a swan. Look at that spot of cloud up near its head - it doesn’t belong.”

“Ahh but my dear,” you tut, bopping her nose lightly as she giggles. “That spot is a trumpet for our dear bird.”

She grins in delight as she understands. “Like the Trumpet and the Swan!”

You nod at her with an answering smile and hum you agreement. Yelena had found that book on one of your bookstore adventures and had, perhaps surprisingly, adored it. Her copy is still proudly on the nightstand beside the bed at home.

After the swan cloud, the two of you continue gazing, with the suggestions becoming progressively more ridiculous as the afternoon wears on.

A juggling clown. An exact imitation of the country of Vietnam. An elephant on a unicycle. A World War 2 tank. A sickle and hammer, as you eye her with a smirk and she shoves you playfully with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Maybe, it is that shove that knocks your sense out of you.

Maybe it’s the way the sun glances off her golden hair and lights up her blazing green eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that her smile fills your chest with air at the same time it knocks it out of you. Or maybe, it’s because it’s been on the tip of your tongue for months now and you just don’t see the point in shutting your mouth any longer - was there ever really a point?

Whatever the reason, it comes bubbling out of you, and you open your mouth anxious and eager and praying you don’t stutter or trip over your words because you want it to be right. Yelena deserves right.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking at her from the side of your eye. “I think that one looks like my future.”

She frowns slightly, brow furrowing in confusion as she turns her head to squint at you. “What?”

You grin, feeling more confident now, because of course this is exactly what you want to be doing, who you want to be doing it with. “That one looks like my future.”

“The dark, shapeless blob is your future? Doesn’t seem very promising.” She tuts in that blunt, sarcastic way of hers.

You’re turned fully on you side now, facing her as she turns to face you, and her smart mouth has you burst out in raucous laughter, like it always does.

“You’re not even looking at the clouds! How can you say one looks like your future? What does a future even look like?!” She splutters in indignation as you start sucking in breaths in between cackles. Yelena tries to glare sternly at you, to no avail. She is a deadly, dangerous woman, but she couldn’t intimidate you if she wanted to - and she would never, ever want to.

Deciding to abandon her half-hearted glower, she proceeds to sulk cutely.

It’s this pout finally calms you, and you smile. It’s maybe the softest smile you’ve ever done, and this is definitely the softest you’ve ever been, but somehow it feels like you’ve done this before. It doesn’t feel scary, or overwhelming even if this is new to you, because it feels like you’ve loved Yelena your whole life.

“You’re right. I wasn’t looking at the clouds,” you say, letting it hang suspended in the air for a moment so you can fully relish the second it clicks for her. You see exactly when it does; her green eyes widen and her cheeks bloom a pretty, dusty pink as your smile grows impossibly larger and softer. “You. You look like my future, Yelena Belova.”

For an instant, it seems like she truly believes you - she flushes deeper than you’ve ever seen. The next instant it changes, like she wants to believe you, but a battle rages in her eyes between the faithful and the skeptical. The instant after that, she shakes her head almost imperceptibly, mouth pursing and she scoffs, laughing you off.

You see it for what it is. Her sound is dismissive, not out of apathy, but out of fear. Her eyes roll, but snap back to you, practically begging you to be sincere - to mean it, because for some ungodly reason no one else has. Cagey as she is, she will never ask for it aloud.

Yelena very carefully gives you an out; it’s as much to protect her as it is to protect you. You could join her, laugh it off as a corny joke and avoid this, probably forever, or you could stay and embrace it.

As if you could ever do anything but stay.

You reach out a hand, setting it down in the grass half the distance to her stiff, rigid body. Almost automatically, Yelena reaches out with her own, and as you twine your fingers together, you see the tension melt from her form.

“I mean it, Lena. Anytime I try to think about my future, all I see is your face over and over. It’s like I was sleepwalking before I met you, but then you woke me up,” you whisper gently, because these kinds of soul-bearing words are made for quiet, intimate murmurs, not loud, boisterous declarations. “A life without you would be no life at all.”

The blonde beauty you’ve found yourself enamored with inhales sharply, like you’ve hit her in the gut. The green eyes you associate with warmth, with laughter, with home, flicker with hope, but still, she seems conflicted.

Hoping to finally put her mind at ease, you squeeze her hand and smile again. “I love you, Yelena. I don’t want anything, or anyone, but you. I want to go wherever you go, then come home together to a closet full of pocketed vests and flannel and a whole pack of dogs. Nothing else could compare.”

Immediately, it’s like a damn breaks. She swiftly launches herself at you, burying her face in your neck and nuzzling the pulse there. If you feel wetness on your skin as she mumbles out an “I love you too,” you don’t mention it. Instead, you grip her tighter, warmth from her body and her words seeping into your bones like molasses.

You two lie there for sometime, love admissions pouring from you both like free-flowing wine. Eventually, she settles her head over your heart as you rest your chin on blonde hair.

“So what do you say, Lena? Will you be my future for forever?” You ask, running the pads of your fingers lightly over her knuckles.

She grabs your hand, kisses your palm simply. “Yes.”

You can feel the ghost of her smiling lips still on your palm, so you bring your twined hands up to your own grin and buss her wrist and the knuckles you’d mapped out earlier. “Even if it means being dragged out to watch clouds with me?”

Yelena turns then, humming in faux consideration. “The activity could grow on me in time. Not unlike you,” she pauses for a moment and then smirks devilishly. “Or a rash.”

You bark out a laugh. “Wow, comparing me to a rash? We’re off to a great start.”

You watch as green eyes roll, knowing and happily expecting to see as much for the rest of your life. “Well, you proposed by comparing me to a fat rain cloud,” she shrugs. “I think we’re even.”

“It’s not a rain cloud! It’s a perfectly normal cloud - and hey! I wasn’t even looking at that cloud, remember?”

“It absolutely is a rain cloud. You implied I was large, amorphous, and filled with liquid, liable to ruin outdoor sporting events and the days of small children by pissing all over them.”

“I so did not! And it isn’t going to rain!”

“Yes it is.”

~*~

It rained.

Smiling into your kisses with Yelena’s warm hands on your neck, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

[orbitariums]

𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 | 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 + 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

hope you guys enjoy this smut that i wrote!!! more star wars pieces to come <3

contains: drug use [ barely ], sex while on drugs

word count: 5k

a night in coruscant | anakin skywalker x reader 

      The air on the rooftop was crisp and clean enough to ease even the heaviest set of lungs. The late night breeze felt cool against your bare skin, which was smooth and glimmering just like the embellishments on your strappy black dress, which stopped with a slit at your ankles. On your arm was the finest man in the Galaxy, Anakin Skywalker, everyone’s choice eye candy for the night besides yourself. Although that was obvious— you and Anakin went everywhere together, close friends that you were. So when you both got an invite to Padme’s birthday celebration, you knew it was only right that you attend it together. 

You were leaning against the open bar, talking quietly to Anakin and sipping a glass of imported Sunberry wine, your lip gloss leaving a sticky stain on the rim of the glass. 

     “Looky looky, Ani and YN arriving together once again, no surprise there,” came a voice from behind you, and the two of you turned in sync to see the smiling face of your devilish friend, Kitana, who was essentially the host of this surprise party for Padme. 

     “And look who’s juggling two drinks, no surprise there,” you smirked playfully, gesturing to the two bottles that the esteemed party animal was juggling in one clasped hand.

     “Good to see you, lovebug,” Kitana purred, pulling you in for a jostled hug, Anakin quickly giving her a friendly peck on the cheek. 

     “It’s so beautiful out here,” you commented, looking around at your surroundings. 

The balcony of the penthouse you were in was large and expansive, crowded with well-dressed, beautiful citizens of Coruscant in their best robes and dresses. Padme was a big deal, everyone who was in her circle or close to her were equally big deals, or at least they had a lot of credit, so at any gathering with Padme there, you could expect to meet the best of the best. 

     “Gods, I know,” Kitana practically moaned, dramatically clutching her chest with her hand. “How have you all been? And, lemme guess, you came here together?”

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head,

     “We did, except I didn’t fly this time.”

You narrowed your eyes at Anakin, 

     “Yes, because you’re an insane pilot.”

     “Obi-Wan says I’m quite good,” Anakin puffed his chest out sensitively.

     “Yes, while you’re on missions. I for one was not showing up to Padme’s party looking as if I’d been hanging upside down off a gnarltree,” you bit back, chastising Anakin for his devilish nature. 

Anakin chuckled goodnaturedly, patting you on the shoulder,

      “She’s kidding.”

Kitana snickered, shaking her head slowly,

     “You two… hey, listen, I’ve got something for you.”

| | |

      “What is it?” Anakin cocked his head, examining the crushed up, potent smelling plant with a color that strangely resembled Master Yoda’s green skin. 

You were in a crevice of the rooftop tucked away from the other partygoers, 

     “It’s called marijuana!” Kitana whispered excitedly, looking between both you and Anakin, trying to make you both as excited as she was. “My father went on a highly important business trip to… well, it doesn’t matter where, but he came back with it. It supposedly has these potent healing properties but, if you ingest it, you get this really… really good feeling.” 

Kitana glanced up momentarily, gaging your reactions with an anticipatory expression on her face, a hopeful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips,

     “Wanna try it?”

You and Anakin both glanced up, making intentional eye contact with one another, as if you were saying “why not?”

     “Sure,” you shrugged, nonchalantly.

     “I couldn’t see why not,” Anakin agreed. 

What could go wrong?

| | |

     In just a matter of minutes after a few hits of this new marijuana substance (“Call it weed, it’s cooler,” Kitana had insisted), you were feeling… wonky, but in a good way. There was no other way to put it, you’d never felt this way before. Outside of the knowledge of Anakin, you’d tried a lot of other things like marijuana— namana, sweet blossom, even spice (just once, and never again), things Anakin would kill you if he knew about, but the feeling this gave you was unlike the others. You were extremely relaxed and calm, but at the same time extraordinarily giddy and happy. Things seemed to move a bit slower, and everything almost felt ridiculous, laughable. You found joy in the simplest things, specifically sitting by Ani’s side and fiddling with his fingers while you rested your head on his shoulder, sitting in the same crevice you were in before. 

Kitana was off somewhere, telling you two to hurry back soon to play a little welcome game before Padme arrived for the surprise. But right now, you both were happy just being together, laughing stupidly at the most nonsensical things. 

     “Oh Ani,” you sighed, gazing up at his boyish, but well-defined face from where you rested your head on his shoulder. “It’s so beautiful out here. I wish we could spend every night like this.”

     “I know,” Anakin replied softly, his voice having gone an octave lower and quieter ever since you’d smoked. He laced his fingers all the way in between yours and brought the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing there softly. “I wish I felt like this all the time… unfortunately, with the way things are going with the Council, I fear that’s impossible. I cherish these moments with you.”

You shifted, gazing at him with troubled eyes and a small pout, trying to get him to make eye contact. 

     “You know you’re my best friend, right, Ani? I’ll always be here for you.”

Anakin chuckled, amused by your kind heart, and finally looked down at you, 

     “Me too.”

    “Okay, lovebirds, let’s get goooing!” Kitana trilled dramatically, clapping her hands together. “We are going to play a little game. Come on, come onnn!”

    Kitana dragged the both of you up when neither of you budged, until you made your way to the penthouse where everyone was inside, mingling and chatting, and awaiting the guest of honor. Everything seemed to go by in a haze, slow motion almost, and the substance you’d inhaled had you taking your observation skills to the extreme. You looked over at Anakin to see if he was feeling the same way, only to find yourself gazing distractedly into his deep browns, his eyes tinted with red and slightly droopy, half-closed as if he was trying not to fall asleep, looking uninterestedly ahead at the group before him. You bit down on your lip and squeezed his hand, and although he didn’t look back at you, he slowly squeezed it back in acknowledgment.

    “Welcome, welcome everyone, don’t you all look so beautiful tonight?” Kitana cooed at the smiling faces before her. “Now, as you all know, our lovely guest is going to be here soon, and we’ll have to get in places to surprise her accordingly. But, first, I wanted to give us a little more time to get to know each other. So we’re going to be playing a little game.”

    You could’ve sworn Kitana winked at you then, but maybe you were just high. She explained the directions and everyone followed accordingly. She would make a statement or ask a question, and you would go towards whoever applied to the answer. The first round, she requested that everyone “walk up to the person with the cutest outfit” A swarm flocked to you, including Anakin, who only smiled at you gently. The next round, she said, “walk up to the person who has drunk the most tonight” Naturally, everyone flocked towards Kitana. 

You played a few rounds, getting into the groove of things and getting to know a multitude of others. You were extra relaxed and confident thanks to the weed, and you got along quite easily with everyone. That was normally the case— you were attractive and everyone made it a point to keep you aware of that fact. But Kitana’s next question was pushing it, further than you ever thought you’d go.

    “Alright. And now, and this is for the bold only. If you’re shy, this question is not for you!” Kitana was met with hooting and hollering from the gathering and she continued with an impish smirk. She paused before proposing the next round’s topic. “Now, walk up to the person you most want to be intimate with, and I mean intimate.”

    The concept would have normally thrown you off guard. That is, if you were completely sober. But right now, your mind was not at all interceded by it. In fact, you were quite open. So open that you walked, on auto-pilot, to Anakin, who also walked, on auto-pilot, towards you. 

    The both of you remained ignorant to the swarms coming up to either one of you (you and Anakin were arguably the most attractive at the party, and everyone had collectively decided they wanted a piece of at least one of you). It was as if you were the only ones in the room. You stood in front of Anakin for a second, both your backs facing the crowd of partygoers behind you that were hoping you’d pay attention to them. You looked at him as if to ask him for confirmation, and you sensed the most imperceptible nod from him. 

    In that moment, nothing else mattered, and Anakin’s skin glowed golden in front of you, a goddess with locks of curly brown hair that you had run your hands through many times, but nothing like the way you thought about while you were trying to go to sleep. And then you leaned in, your faces just inches apart, breathing softly against one another’s lips. You inched your head forward, nuzzling your mouth against his, and he broke the wall between you, reaching in and pressing his lips against yours to lock in a slow, tender kiss. You were unaware of the oohs and aahs coming from all around, because all you were focusing on was the way Anakin’s lips felt soft and warm and wet against yours. The kiss was like no other, it was as if you were melting into his mouth like ice cream on a hot day in Naboo. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair just the way you desired and he pulled you closer into him by the small of your back, and you only pulled apart when you became aware of the crowd watching in a stupor. 

    When you pulled apart, your cheeks flushed warm at the hooting and hollering you were met with, all the raucous applause. But you didn’t pay any attention to the others, you simply continued gazing into Anakin’s eyes as he gazed back into yours, a new lightness in your gaze as if you had cracked the code. Before, this was something you and Anakin had almost been avoiding, dancing around the idea of it like frogs on floating lily pads drifting in a clear pond. You were best friends of course, your bond was unbreakable. But sometimes your touches lingered far too long to just be the touches of a close friend, and sometimes your stare remained far too fixated on Anakin’s lips when he spoke. 

    “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” you could practically hear the smirk in Kitana’s voice— she was always first to point out you and Anakin’s undeniable attraction to each other, no matter how many times the two of you brushed her off with an unbothered chuckle. 

    You giggled, shaking your head, and Anakin laughed too, bringing you in close for a hug. Again, everyone cheered, and once it died down, and Kitana was onto the next round, Anakin was guiding you away from the gathering, his hand on the small of your back. 

    “Uh, I-I-”

    “Anakin, stop right there,” you pressed a finger to his lips. “I know you and I know you’re about to apologize for something we both wanted to do.”

He swallowed and you saw his Adam’s apple bob nervously in his throat, 

    “So do-do you want me?”

    “Yes, Ani. Of course I want you, I-” you stepped closer to him and reached your hand up so it caressed his cheek and ran again through those luscious hazelnut locks of hair. You looked down at the ground, speaking quietly now, “I’ve always wanted you.”

You heard Anakin take in a sharp breath, then steady himself, and you felt his finger on your chin, making you look up at him.

    “Good,” he said in that unusually low and husky voice, his hand grabbing your jaw gently, his thumb rubbing calm circles against your skin. “I want you too.”

A pause as you looked at each other hopefully, and then Anakin let his hand drop to your mouth, his finger dragged along your bottom lip slowly and seductively, maintaining eye contact with you the whole while until the very last minute when his eyes fluttered down to your lips, coated in shiny lip gloss. You stood there in awe, your lips slightly parted until you found the breath to speak.

    “Now,” was all you said, looking up at him needily. 

    “What?” Anakin asked, leaning in in confusion.

    “Right here,” you leaned in even closer, tugging on his only fancy robe while you whispered in his ear. Your breath was warm against his neck and your words trickled down his spine, causing him to jolt forward excitedly. “If you want me, then show me. Take me right here, right now, in one of the bedrooms.”

You weren’t sure where this burst of confidence was coming from, but deep down you knew it was definitely triggered by your high, which was still ongoing and peaking. You pulled away slightly, your lips still at his neck as you looked up at him with eyes that shot daggers.

    “Can you do that for me, Ani? You must know I need you.”

    “Fuck,” Anakin hissed, panting, and as he pressed into you, you could feel how hard he was underneath his robes, and you very purposefully nudged your knee against him. His voice was tight and strained as he spoke the words into the crook of your neck. “Look what you’ve done to me.”

    “I haven’t done a thing to you,” you laughed lowly. “I think you did that all by yourself, Ani.”

You felt your stomach drop suddenly when Anakin huffed and grabbed you tightly by the hand, leading you quickly down the deserted hall and turning into one of the big bedrooms, shutting the door behind him immediately by towering over you with his hands pressed against the door on either side of you. You were locked in beneath him and you could practically see the hunger in his low-hanging eyes, see it in the way his jaw was clenched tight. 

    “Why have you kept this from me for so long?” he breathed heavily, and you replied,

    “We both knew it, it was just a matter of when it would happen.”

    Suddenly, Anakin was kissing you again, and you were kissing him back, and he turned around and pushed up against you until you were both on the plush bed. He hovered over you, his muscles flexing in his arms as he deepened the kiss, eliciting a sweet moan from your mouth into his. The kiss was breathless and passionate, burning with the flame of desire struck between the two of you. 

    Before you knew it he was pulling your dress over your head and you were raising your arms up so he could get it over your body, and he threw it to the side onto the floor. He resumed kissing you after an astounded onceover of your body, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to trap him in, your hands clutching either side of his soft face. 

But suddenly, your lips lost contact with his as he pulled away. You whimpered, looking up at him in confusion and worry when you saw the look on his face.

    “Wait…” he was breathing heavy. “Are you sure about this?”

    “Yes, Anakin, I want you to have me, please,” you pleaded, your tone descending from intense and irritated to begging and delicate. 

You pressed your lips to his again, open-mouthed and kissing needily, but he pulled away once more. You huffed impatiently.

    “No, I mean, really. We’re both... really high right now… a-aren’t you?”

    “Yes, Ani,” you grinned, your heart softened by his consideration. You let your hand gently caress his face and his hair, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. The… weed definitely has made an impact on me, but, not enough to cloud my judgment like this. I know I want you. I’m sure I want you. I need you. Are… are you okay with this?”

Anakin nodded intensely, and you followed suit, nodding your head slowly and placing your hand on his shoulder. 

    “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay with it. I’ve wanted this for,” he gulped, glancing down at your beautiful body and getting distracted, “for so long.”

    “As have I,” you giggled, and you pulled him in for another kiss, slower this time. 

    Every sensation was on ten, his lips against yours, the way his hair brushed lightly against your cheek, how his tongue would run along your bottom lip, slick with wet. Every sensation was like being bounced around on a big cloud in a cotton candy sky. Nothing had ever felt like this before, and it was a result of the chemistry between you two and the substance in your system. Eventually, you got his clothes off, too, running your hands along his abs with zero discretion as he kissed you, his mouth moving further down your body, starting at the neck with plump, tantalizingly slow kisses. You grasped a handful of hair, pulling gently at it and making him moan against your neck. Oh, how sweet his moans sounded to your ear, like audible candy that melted in your mouth. Your Anakin. 

    He made his way down, and once he made his way to your stomach, your legs were shaking with nerves. Every movement he made got closer and closer to your heat. Your stomach lifted and receded with every breath, and Anakin placed his hand on your belly, feeling your breath as your stomach rose and fell. Once you felt his hand there, your breathing calmed. 

    He looked up, his lips still attached to your v-line just above the hem of your underwear,

    “Everything alright?”

    “Yes,” you breathed in. “I’m… just nervous. We’ve never done this.”

    “I understand. I’ll treat you right,” Anakin promised, his tone serious as sin. “Just lay back, I’ll make you feel good. I’m not going to judge you.” He pressed another kiss to your body, this time to your inner thigh, making you gasp. “And if you ever want me to stop, you say so.”

You nodded, 

    “Okay.”

    “Okay.”

    Anakin spent a few more moments just like that, his lips kissing against the plush skin on your inner thighs, one hand interlaced with yours. After one particularly succulent kiss to your inner thigh, a moan rose deep in his throat and he glared up at you.

    “Mm, you taste so good,” he sighed, making your cheeks warm just at the gruff sound of his voice. “Can I?”

    He was pulling gently at your underwear, making sure it was okay if he pulled them down. 

    “Please,” you nodded vigorously, and he pulled them down with ease, sliding them down your legs and throwing them off to the side. You doubted you’d properly be able to find your clothes in this big room after you were done. 

    Anakin let out a shaky breath when he looked down at your pussy, glistening in the dark of the room, wet and throbbing just slightly. He went red in the face, feeling like he was doing something so against the rules— he was face to face with his best friend in your most vulnerable state. But the idea of it only turned him on. 

    “So pretty,” he breathed, placing a kiss on your mound.

You whimpered slightly, watching his every move. Smoothly, without haste, he flicked his tongue against your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds. You practically lurched forward at the feeling of the tip of his tongue against you, so sensitive and so warm. He dipped his tongue in further, lips closing in around the tip of your clit as he did so. You moaned, your eyes rolling back at the magical sensation of pleasure,

    “Yes, Anakin.”

    He moaned against you, his voice vibrating against your pussy, making you groan and tug at his hair. He closed his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he practically made out with your pussy. You laid there in complete ecstasy while Anakin made you feel so good, as promised. You nearly shrieked when he started to fuck you earnestly with his tongue, letting it delve deep in and out of you, exploring up and down as he used his thumb to gently rub circles against your sensitive clit. 

    “Oh gods,” you cried out, gripping harder onto his hair. “How—oh—where did you learn this?”

    Anakin just chuckled against you, and your legs closed around his head as the pleasure became excruciatingly good. Once again everything was on ten. The drug had you feeling like you could feel every little sensation, and it was all so amazing. 

    “Ani, baby, I’m gonna come,” your voice grew broken and whiny as you scrunched your eyes shut, bucking your hips up closer to his face and feeling his tongue slide impossibly deeper into you while he did some inexplicable trick. “Please don’t stop, please don’t—”

    You mewled loudly when he pulled away just as you were about to reach that peak, leaving you throbbing around absolutely nothing, his hands pushing your shaking legs apart.

    “Why’d you stop?” you pouted, lamenting the feeling of his tongue inside you and his lips against you.

    “Because you’re going to come on my cock,” he demanded as he reached up and hovered over you, face to face with you now. 

The flash you saw in his eyes could only be described as a fire, and you couldn’t argue with him in such a state. This was a side of Anakin you’d never seen before, and it had you running your hands all over his body like a needy little puppy. 

    “But first,” Anakin said, only completing his sentence by taking two of his fingers and placing them at your lips. You opened with ease, coating his fingers in your spit and sucking on them while you looked hungrily into each other’s eyes. “Good girl,” he praised you, and before you knew it those fingers were leading down to your pussy, which was only now recovering from its declined orgasm. 

You shook with a cry as Anakin slid his fingers into you like it was nothing, stretching you out.

    “Shh,” he shushed you gently, kissing your cheek, before he pulled his fingers out and put them to his lips, sucking on his fingers just as you had his. He closed his eyes, reveling in the taste of you, like a forbidden fruit. He went back down again, fucking deep into you twice with his fingers, causing you to shudder and grip his bare, toned back. 

This time, he put his fingers, coated with your slick arousal, to your lips, and you obliged, sucking his fingers with fervor. 

    “Here,” he’d said. “See how good you taste?”

    “Mmm,” you moaned around his fingers, holding his wrist and sucking hungrily. 

Anakin’s jaw ticked, watching your face, that cunning smile of yours as your lips closed around his fingers, the way your eyes seemed to pull him in without even trying. 

    “You like the way you taste, don’t you? Filthy thing,” he said through gritted teeth, and you nodded slowly, biting down on your lip once you let his fingers slide out of your mouth. He pulled off his boxers. “Are you ready?”

    “Yes, I’m ready.”

    With a shaky breath, Anakin gripped the base of his dick, his brows furrowed in concentration as he guided himself up to you, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance. You both let out a slight gasping sound in reaction, and you looked up at Anakin with wide, awe-filled eyes. He slipped into you easily, and by that point you were both looking down to watch him stretch you out as your folds widened over the tip and shaft, until a good portion of him was inside you, thick and big and filling. 

    “Mmh,” you squirmed underneath him, and his eyes glanced up from your core to your face. Your brows were knit together and your lips were drawn down at the corners, the pleasure almost unbearable. “More, please.”

    He abided silently, pushing deeper into you, forcing you both into silence as you concentrated on how good it felt. You enveloped Anakin perfectly, like a love letter sealed with hot, red wax. When you looked up at Anakin, his mouth was open in an o-shape and his brows were furrowed, and he was looking unabashedly into your eyes. They were as rich a brown as they had ever been, and still tinged with that red that made his eyes droop slightly, so every loo from him was a sultry gaze. You couldn’t help it, breaking the silence to whimper because he felt so good unmoving and throbbing inside you, and his intense facial expression had you salivating. 

    You squeezed involuntarily around him as if your pussy was begging him to move, and he let out a shuddering moan, swearing,

    “Fuck.”  

Feeling encouraged by his admission, you moaned and put a hand over his back, grasping the muscle there and saying,

    “Please move, Ani, it feels too good-”

    You were cut off by his sudden thrusting motion, deep and swift yet gentle all at once, plunging into you and then back out again, until he gathered a continuous momentum. By then, you were cursing and saying his name and tears were welling up in your eyes. Nothing had ever felt so good before, and you were so wet that you thought you could last forever. Each time he pulled out of you was a loss, and you fixated on those few seconds where he wasn’t inside you by wishing he’d be inside of you once again. Every sensation you felt set your soul on fire and pulled words out of your mouth you’d never imagined yourself saying. 

    When you were close, you had wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him so all he could do was push deeper inside you. You had your faces buried in each other’s neck, moaning against soft, sweaty skin, and a burning sensation began to fill your stomach and travel down as you released around him, coming like a waterfall and moaning his name, your nails digging little crescent moons into his back,

    “Fu-fuck, Anakin!” you groaned, your voice hoarse and half-gone, squeezing your eyes shut as you tugged at his hair and pulled your hands around his neck. You rode out your high, mumbling incoherent phrases as he kept on pushing into you, chasing his own high after yours. 

    Your lips, tucked away in the crook of his neck, brushed against his ear, and he was done for, that feathery sensation combined with your dripping pussy absolutely soaking around him pushed him over the edge, and he came with a violent moan, his hips stuttering as he faded into you. Your name, as well as plenty of other things, fell out of his lips as he came, spurts of his hot cum shooting into you. He collapsed on top of you, sweaty bodies flush against one another. You could feel his chest rising and falling against yours, just as he felt your chest puff up against his own. 

    Then, the only sounds in the room were those of you breathing heavily, catching your breath like you were returning back to reality and the only world you truly knew, outside of the paradise you had found in one another for those few lingering moments. Anakin’s body heat against yours operated like a warm blanket, and you found yourselves staying there for a moment, wet and sweaty and dirty and somehow purified in the oddest of ways. When Anakin finally rolled away after what felt like hours later, on his back on the large bed beside you and still breathing heavily, you finally felt your high starting to wear off. It was like the longer you were intimate, the longer the high lasted, and now that that was truly over, you were coming back down. 

    You still felt euphoric, on cloud nine, your body abuzz with that glow you get post coitus. And you looked over at Anakin, to see that he was already looking over at you, his lips quirked up in a charming, boyish smile so typical of him. You leaned on your side and smiled back at him, your eyes locking in a knowing gaze. You leaned into him and kissed his button nose, and he chuckled, scrunching his nose up like a rabbit. You ran a hand through his hair, which was hardly out of place despite the past activities, and you shook your head with a light laugh. 

    “We should have done this a long time ago, no?” you joked, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

    “Well,” he started, brushing his hand against your cheek. “Now that we know how it feels, we have all the time in the world to do it again… and again, and again, and—”

    “Alright, alright, you horndog,” you chortled. “I suppose you are right, though.”

    “Mm hm, you know I am,” Anakin replied, his hand dropping down to your shoulder to caress your arm. “We should go see Kitana before the night is over, don’t you think?”

    “Why, so she can announce to everyone that we had sex?” you asked with a laugh. 

    “No, silly,” Anakin shook his head with an amused grin. “For more of that stuff.”