#reviews of the next 2 books to come
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alltoowellbookreviews · 2 months ago
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A Game of Thrones Book Review
(Read this book in June)
To start this out, I will admit I’ve seen the show. But I decided this year to go ahead and read all of the books.
This book was amazing! I loved the introduction into this world. Definitely glad I watched the show first, as there were so many characters it helped put faces to names.
I loved reading Ned’s POVs and seeing how haunted he was by the war. He never forgot what happened to Elia Martell and her children, and he truly tried to save Dany from that fate. Also, seeing bits of his ptsd with his sisters death, it definitely sets up the storyline that Jon is a Targaryen.
I didn’t know how harsh Catleyn was on Jon in the books. That scene where she tells him she wishes it was him instead of Bran who fell broke my heart. That being said- I really loved reading Catelyn. She loved her children so fiercely and took initiative to protect and avenge them.
Arya and Sansa’s chapters were interesting to read through. Sansa looks like Catelyn but is naive like Ned. Whilst Arya looks like Ned but acts like Catleyn when she’s upset.
Definitely think George was setting up a comparison between the Tully sisters and the Stark sisters. Catelyn and Lysa were close as children but grew apart as adults, where I think since Arya and Sansa fought as children they will be close as adults.
I really despised reading Danys chapters though. She was way too young. I felt sick to my stomach reading them, which is why I ultimately took a star off of my rating.
Overall Rating: 4/5⭐️
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lesamis · 11 months ago
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Happy 2023 End!! What are some books you would recommend for nature or environment reading? (Also quite interested to know what you generally might have on your tbr now!)
happy end of year to you, anon! 🌻
i think it really depends what kind of books on the topic you're interested in. this year a lot of what i read about the environment was concerned with climate change & with the coloniality of current environmental struggles - a good book about this is the nutmeg's curse by amitav ghosh.
if you're looking more for nature writing in the classical sense, maybe you'd like braiding sweetgrass, pilgrim at tinker creek, or notes from walnut tree farm (i've recommended that book maybe a hundred times on this blog and i shan't stop now).
the tbr is currently massive. i didn't read much for leisure this year because i was reading so much for work, and so a lot of the novels i was given for my birthday are still untouched. in addition, the best friend has once more taken up her sacred duty as purveyor of reading material i didn't know i needed, and so this stack has appeared over christmas. i guess it constitutes my tbr now :')
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noivern · 2 years ago
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reading warriors avos made me feel like i was going insane that series is so fucking bad like theyre all kids books but that one felt like a fever dream of last minute drafts shat out the night before deadline
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Arw you really the author John Green? The same person who wrote The Fault in Our Stars and Looking for Alaska?
Yes, but I published one of those books 19 (?!?!?!) years ago and the other 12 (!?!?!?!?) years ago. What have I been up to since then?
My brother Hank and I started Good.store, which delivers high-quality socks, coffee, and soap to your home and donates 100% of its profit to charity. Through good store, we've raised over $7,500,000 to support efforts to radically reduce maternal mortality in Sierra Leone, where as recently as 2019, one in seventeen women could expect to die in pregnancy or childbirth.
(In fact, technically I am here on tumblr as an unpaid intern for the awesome coffee club, which you should really sign up for if you like ethically sourced coffee that tastes delicious and doesn't enrich billionaires.)
I wrote the novel Turtles All the Way Down and then had a little existential crisis and wrote a nonfiction book called The Anthropocene Reviewed, the latter of which is my first book for adults and my first attempt to write as myself.
I helped produce made a movie adaptation (streaming now on Max!) of Turtles all the Way Down.
I helped raise my kids and supported my spouse as she wrote her book You Are An Artist and created a PBS show about art called The Art Assignment.
I ran the educational media company Complexly and the merch company dftba.com while my brother had cancer.
I bought around 2% of a fourth-tier English football team called AFC Wimbledon. Wimbledon are different from most football clubs because they are owned by their fans, each of whom gets one vote in the club's leadership regardless of how much money they put into the club.
I became obsessed with tuberculosis, the world's deadliest infectious disease (it will kill over a million people this year despite being curable), and how TB both exemplifies and reinforces human-built structures of injustice, which is the subject of a book I'm writing that will come out next year.
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themeraldee · 3 months ago
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Hii can you do one where the reader rejects homelander because she’s married? He gets mad and obsessive??
Thank you for the ask! So originally I wasn't gonna do requests because I'm very particular about what strikes my fancy. But I'm nothing if not a people pleaser so your request got my head popping up with ideas as I've not really explored the 'loving someone to a fault' part of Homelander where things take a wild turn. So this is my humble attempt - hope you enjoy!
(Also I spat this out fairly quickly so it's not very well reviewed)
The Price of Love
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[Masterlist]
18+ Only | 1.7k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 2. Voyeurism. Dark themes but nothing very specific. Homelander being his own warning. Mention of canon-level violence.
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“What the fuck do you mean you’re married?!” Homelander sputters, caught totally off guard by your admission. His body language frazzled, his arms expressing confusion just as much as his words as his presence towers over you. 
You’ve been Ashley’s secretary for a few months now. At first he took no interest in the presence of yet another busybody without a name that was surely going to crack under the pressure and either leave or fuck up beyond repair resulting in your resignation. But no, you’ve proven yourself to be reliable, responsible and most importantly you’ve got a fucking spine in you. You don’t cower in fear, shake when you talk to him or let yourself get talked into a corner. He likes that. He really likes that. 
His preference for you has become so obvious that Ashley made you his go-to. Any news, good or bad, just went straight through you. And somehow, Homelander didn’t mind hearing that he dropped a point or two when it came from your lips.
That’s why he felt so blindsided by your outright rejection when he asked you out. What the fuck do you mean married?! 
“I mean I’m unavailable.” Homelander tightens his hand into a fist now that his arms fell back to rest next to his thighs. He hides the lapse of control behind his cape as he clasps both hands behind his back. At this point the pose has become a bit of a defense mechanism, nobody can touch or hurt him when he’s playing a hero. It’s a whole lot different when he pours his heart out to some fucking assistant just to get it stomped into the ground. 
“You’re not wearing a ring.” His tone is quiet, sharp. He nods his head towards the hand that’s currently clutching a stack of papers, the last thing you were meant to bring over before you clocked out. In Homelander’s eyes, it was the perfect time to ask you out. He’d take you out the same night. Michelin star restaurant, booked out just for the two of you. But no, you had to ruin his whole plan.
“I know, I’m sorry. I oftentimes leave it at home. I worry about it getting damaged or lost.” You clutch your papers closer to you, Homelander’s eyes lock onto your empty ring finger. It’s like you’re trying to hide it from him. The skin where your ring would be sat isn’t even smoothed out or marked in any way. So either it’s a recent marriage or you barely wear your ring as is. Homelander scoffs to himself, what kind of marriage is it if you’re not willing to shout about it from the rooftops. 
“I just—what? You’ve been fucking coming onto me for ages!” He wheezes out in part anger, part embarrassment. His eyes widen at first before squinting, his eyebrows furrowing with the action. In his head he replays all your interactions and he’s not fucking stupid. He’s the Homelander. There’s no one who can read people better than him.
“Sorry? I haven’t, or I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to lead you on.” You take a step back. As much as this whole time Homelander’s been more than tolerating your presence, enjoying and looking forward to it even, now he’s acting like a whole kind of different animal. He takes one step in. Part of him relishes in the way your heart speeds up at the loud thud of his boot taking the one step closer to you. The other part of him doesn’t want you to be scared of him, just like you haven’t been this whole time, you’re meant to be his! 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“Lead me on?” 
“You know, make you think I’m interested when I’m not.” He nearly laughs. Not interested? Not fucking interested?! Give him a break. He might not have many experiences with the most genuine of relationships but he knows attraction when he sees one. He’s not stupid enough to mistake your professional kindness for attraction, it’s more than that. He’s sure of it. Your pulse still races anytime you’re in his vicinity, your pupils dilate, you smile all flustered and sweet when he pays you a compliment and there’s definitely times he’s managed to make you wet just by saying or doing the right thing. Someone who’s not interested wouldn’t be reacting like that. 
He pinches the bridge of his nose shaking his head. “Get out.” His voice rings loud and clear in the empty room. 
“Yes, sir. I’m really so sorry.” His teeth grind at the way you call him ‘sir’. A habit he’s weaned you off a long time ago. Yet there you go again, reverting back to factory settings as if you two didn’t have a whole load of history behind you. He watches you scamper off, the intrusive, violent part of him has an intense urge to laser you in half for making him feel this way.
But no, he knows there’s another way. First, he needs to get this energy out one way or another. And the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 
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Homelander waits till nightfall before flying around just to get his frustration out. First Madelyn, now you. What is it with women being dishonest with him! But no no no, you’re nothing like her. You do love him. You have to. He knows it. He can feel it. He just needs to nudge you in the right direction.
His thoughts get disrupted by a shrill scream coming from the alleyway below him. He pauses in the air, watching the situation with little initial interest. He lands on the building ledge where a man has a screaming woman pinned against the wall. He notices the light reflecting against the switchblade the criminal presses to her neck.
Well look at that, he can get his frustrations out and he’s gonna look like a hero. This night might just be turning around for him.
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He leaves the bloody carnage behind, shaking some of the blood and viscera off his suit, bloody droplets hitting his boots instead. He’s so used to the copper tang of blood, at this point breathing it in is as natural to him as air. He’s just not particularly fond of the mess it creates.
But finally, after some physical relief, he grins to himself and with a clear head he can devise a plan on how to win you over. He’s the Homelander, who the fuck else could be more worthy of your love? 
Well… He’s about to find out.
Homelander takes off into the air, shooting up up up, until he finds a happy altitude where the air is just about getting thin, but more importantly where he’s unlikely to be recorded or photographed at this time of night.
He lands on the rooftop of the building opposite where you and your spouse reside. Bleugh. Your fucking spouse. Just the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He was being patient with you. Wanted to take it the traditional way. Just like normal humans you’d meet at work, get chatting, get comfortable and start dating. So he gave you the benefit of your privacy. Wanted to see you naked for the first time when you’d undress for him. All pretty and sensual, giving him a good show. Now it’s biting him in the ass. If he wasn’t so chivalrous with you he would have long known that he’d need to get rid of the obstacle before he’d even ask you out. 
He watches through the building walls. He needs to see who, or what, has you so whipped that you wouldn’t immediately offer to get divorced just to go on a date with him. At the very least it better be some good sex.
He scans your meager one bedroom apartment. Your spouse is sound asleep in your shared bed but you’re nowhere to be seen. It’s not even that late in the night. Wouldn’t happily married couples be fucking through the night like rabbits at this hour? 
He lights up when he lands on the sight of you in your bathroom. Finally, some fucking reward. It’s the least he deserves after all that he’s been through. You’re submerged in your bathtub, the water level hitting halfway up your chest. You have the most pleased expression on your face, pure delight as you rest your head against the rim of the tub, eyes closed all dreamy. 
Homelander palms the front of his pants, feeling his cock immediately fill out at finally getting glimpses of your naked self. It’s only then he notices that you’re not just relaxing. No. Your hand is holding the shower head right in between your legs, letting the water pressure light up all your sensitive nerves. 
Then it clicks. He grins like he hasn’t in a long while. The pure satisfaction of being right. You’re not satisfied. You can’t be. It’s obvious you desperately need to escape this situation. You need him. 
He carelessly unfastens his pants, surprising even himself that he doesn’t manage to rip them in half as he eagerly grips his hard cock. He strokes it harder than he ever has before, the blood on his glove just easing the glide of the harsh pace he sets himself. Homelander almost chokes on air as he watches you arch your back and whimper quietly, clearly hiding your little indulgent fantasy from your spouse. 
He wishes he could tell you it’s alright, your spouse is dead asleep. They won’t notice. They clearly don’t care. He does. And that’s all that matters, you have his attention. You have an audience of one. 
He doesn’t care what the reason is. There’s no reason in his book that would justify your spouse leaving you this dissatisfied that you have to get yourself off behind closed doors and not with their help. 
He’s so worked up, riding the roller coaster of wildly contrasting emotions, from heart-break to euphoria, that it doesn’t take long for him to feel breathless, panting as he strokes himself to the image of you all wet, pleasured and relaxed. What really does him in, unexpectedly is the whispering plea leaving your lips. ‘Homelander.’
And just like that he cums hard, not caring where his load ends up, his grin never leaving his face as he watches you reach your sweet, sweet release.
He has to have you.
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[Part 2]
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Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story)
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punkshort · 5 months ago
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Swept Away | Chapter 2: Paradise
Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: It's your first day in paradise and, to your surprise, you get along with Joel much better than you expected.
Chapter Warnings: language, implied age gap, alcohol and food consumption, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, fake relationship, slow burn, flirting, sexual tension
WC: 10.1K
Series Masterlist
It was way too early. You hardly managed to get any sleep the night before, the excitement for what was to come too much for you to fully relax. You kept getting out of bed to look through your bag, wondering if you packed enough or forgot anything.
Joel had insisted you only needed to bring personal effects and essentials. You had given him your measurements once all the papers were signed and he sent an assistant on a shopping spree to buy you all new clothes and accessories based on the activities and events he knew you would be partaking in. He didn't bother to ask what your own personal style was like, if there were certain colors or clothes you preferred, because you were playing a part. You were his fiancée, someone who would enjoy the finer things in life and not care about comfort over style.
But just to be safe, you packed a few clothes of your own with your toiletries, books, makeup, hair products, and other odds and ends you kept shoving into your bag, thinking what's the harm?
Joel was waiting outside your apartment at three in the morning sharp, right when he told you he would in a sleek, black town car. You groggily stumbled down the steps, hauling your worn out duffel bag over one shoulder and your purse on the other. Joel's driver appeared out of nowhere, startling you when he put a hand on your shoulder to take your bag.
"Thank you," you told him softly, the stillness of the night making you feel like you shouldn't speak any louder. He just nodded and opened the back door, your bag clutched in his other hand, and you slid inside.
Joel didn't even spare you a glance. He looked down at his phone, his thumbs typing out some mile long email as you got situated next to him and buckled your seat belt.
"Thought I told you not to bring much."
"Good morning to you, too," you replied. He sighed and finally looked up from his phone.
"Mornin'. My assistant bought you everythin' you'd need."
You shrugged as Joel's driver pulled away from the curb. "I wanted some of my own things."
Joel didn't reply. He just went back to his phone while you closed your eyes and slid down further into the soft leather seat.
"How long is the flight?" you asked with your head resting against the tinted window, watching the dark, sleeping buildings pass you by.
"Thirteen or fourteen hours."
Ouch.
"That's a long time," you replied with a yawn. Joel paused his tapping on his phone to look at you.
"You can sleep on the plane, but I wanna review our backstory before we land."
"I'll try, but I've never been able to sleep the way you're practically sitting upright on a plane."
Joel frowned. "There's a bed."
You whipped your head in his direction as the driver began to get closer to the airport, the bright lights from the parking lots and runways filling the front seat of the car.
"A bed?"
"Yeah, a bed. The hell you think this is? I ain't flyin' commercial."
Your jaw dropped when the car drove past the departures exit and continued on towards the runway.
"Are we flying private?"
"'Course we're flyin' private."
You continued to stare through the front window as Joel's driver slowed down to a stop, rolling his window down when he reached a barrier to speak with a man in an orange vest inside a booth. Then the arm went up and the car continued on its way, excitement coursing through your veins as he drove down the runway, past a handful of other private jets either being boarded or refueling.
A squeal slipped past your lips when the car stopped in front of your plane and Joel looked at you once again, unamused.
"Get it outta your system now 'cause when we get there, you gotta act like this is your lifestyle. No slip ups, y'hear me?" Joel warned, but even his grumpy tone couldn't spoil your mood now.
"Yeah, yeah," you said dismissively before practically jumping out of the car when Joel's driver opened the door for you. You thanked him and danced from foot to foot, waiting for Joel to get out so he could lead you to the plane. He pocketed his phone and stretched an arm out, silently requesting you join him by his side.
"Oh, it's starting already?" you asked as you approached the plane. The pilot and two flight attendants stood next to the bottom of the stairs with wide smiles and their hands clasped obediently at their waists.
"No, just bein' courteous."
You raised an eyebrow at him and grinned when he rolled his eyes.
"Good morning," the pilot said as you got closer and reached out to shake Joel's hand. One of the flight attendants nodded to you both and ascended the stairs so you could follow her. Once you got to the top, what you saw took your breath away.
The body of the plane housed several oversized chairs peppered around two long, curved couches, and as you walked by and ran your fingertips along one of the beige cushions, the fabric felt smooth as butter. Strolling right past the glass desk already fitted with a laptop, you gawked at the big screen TV against one of the walls, which was displaying various snapshots of what you assumed to be the Fiji islands.
"Wow," you breathed as you tilted your head back to admire the lights that adorned the ceiling. They were dimmed but along the middle of the ceiling was a string of red LED lights that cast the furniture in a hauntingly beautiful glow.
"Back there's the bedroom," Joel told you gruffly. You swiveled around to see he was pointing past the main living space to a small area with a closed door. "Bathroom', too."
"This is beautiful. Do you own it?"
He nodded and picked one of the chairs to settle in, but you couldn't stop looking at all the amenities. Purple orchids sat securely to each side table and along the back wall was a narrow counter with fresh fruit, bottles of water and juice, and baked goods. Popping a grape in your mouth, you continued to examine the inside of the plane while the flight crew got everything situated for takeoff.
"This is the softest blanket ever," you told Joel when you picked up a beautiful white blanket from the back of a chair. His eyes flickered over to you briefly before focusing back on his phone. Once the stairs were brought up and locked, you picked a chair opposite from Joel and buckled yourself in, wrapping the blanket around yourself giddily in the process. He gave you another look but you just grinned.
"C'mon, lighten up. Nothing bad is going to happen if you let yourself enjoy something."
"I enjoy plenty," was all he said in response. You sighed and stared dreamily out the window as the plane began to depart.
The sun hadn't even begun to rise so once you were up high enough and all you could see was black out the window, you slid the shade closed and settled deeper into the chair.
"Thought you were gonna sleep," Joel said without looking up from the laptop he had brought over from the desk.
"Can't now. Too excited."
He narrowed his eyes at you before sighing and glancing over his shoulder, confirming the flight crew was busy and not eavesdropping. He then closed the laptop and tucked his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer, pulling out a small, blue box you only ever saw in magazine ads or movies.
"Here," he said, opening the box to show you a radiant oval shaped diamond so big you could probably see it from space.
"Holy shit," you whispered, reaching an arm out from under your blanket to nervously touch the ring.
"Don't get too excited, it's just on loan."
"Still," you muttered, "I've never seen a diamond like this in real life before."
You gulped when he took your left hand and carefully slid the ring over your finger. He gently tested it, giving it a little tug to make sure it fit before withdrawing his hand. The circumstances weren't exactly what you imagined when you were little and a man slid a ring on your finger for the first time, but what the hell? A lot of things didn't work out the way you expected in life.
"It suits you."
"Another errand for your assistant?" you joked, using the pad of your thumb to twirl the gold band around your finger, getting used to the feel. The corner of his mouth twitched and he quickly rubbed two fingers over his lips, then cleared his throat.
"Suppose we can go over our cover story, then," he said, changing the subject. You dropped your hand to your lap and tried not to play with the ring.
"Okay."
"We met at an art gallery two years ago. We'll say a mutual friend was havin' a show and we first bumped into each other in front of the same piece. I noticed how taken you were with it so I bought it for you as a surprise. When it was delivered, you reached out to the artist for my number, and the rest is history." He told the story stiffly, in one long breath as if he had rehearsed it. When he finished, he fiddled with the sleeve of his blazer, waiting for you to comment.
"What kind of piece was it?"
His eyes snapped up to yours and he tilted his head.
"Why does that matter?"
"It matters because it's how we first met, Joel. This one piece of art will forever bond us. It will be talked about at our wedding and, on our anniversary, you'll commission the artist to make a new piece, inspired by the original, just for me. We'll hang them above our bed and one day our children will hang them in their own homes. They'll tell everyone who comes to their house the story of the paintings and our love. That's why it matters."
Joel stared blankly at you for a long moment and you feared you might have gone too far and pissed him off but, surprisingly, he leaned back in his seat with a low whistle and shook his head.
"Goddamn, that's... that's good."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really," he said, rubbing his chin in thought, not bothering to hide his smirk now.
"Abstract expressionism," he eventually said. "Something in the vein of Kooning. We'll say the title of the work is Red 42 and I got into a biddin' war with 'nother buyer but I would stop at nothin' to get it for you so I ended up spendin' twice what it's worth."
"How romantic," you grinned.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, sweetheart," he replied, making you giggle as the flight crew began to enter the cabin with warm towels and a tray of beverages. You accepted a bottle of water with a small smile of thanks while Joel just waved them off.
"Okay, so what else? Shouldn't I know about your family, at least?"
Joel shot you a stern look and you dropped your gaze. For whatever reason, he seemed particularly sensitive about sharing anything personal with you.
"It won't come up," was all he said.
"Okay..." you said slowly, picking at the plastic label on your water bottle. "Well, tell me about work, then. How you got started, how you became so successful. All that stuff."
"Stuff?" Joel repeated with his eyebrows raised. You shrugged.
"Yeah. Stuff."
He sighed and looked out his window and for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to share anything about that part of his life, either, until he spoke again.
"One of my first jobs was a doorman at the Ritz in New York. I didn't have any experience but I had a nice smile and I knew how to use my charm when I had to, so I did well."
You had to bite back a remark about his smile, not wanting to interrupt him, but instead filed it away to wonder later where that smile went.
"I had odd jobs here and there, waitin' tables, tendin' bar, the usual, but I really loved workin' at the hotel. It felt like... like I finally belonged. I liked talkin' to important guests. I liked it when they'd remember my name and tip me well when I told 'em a good joke or helped 'em out with directions or whatever." He scratched his chin, still staring out the window. "But I made the mistake of thinkin' I was one of them. Y'know?" His eyes flashed to yours and you just nodded.
"Well, anyway. I wasn't. I was poor. I didn't go to college. I didn't have connections. I had nothin' but this fantasy that I belonged with these people and one day I just decided to do somethin' 'bout it."
"What did you do?" you asked softly, unknowingly leaning forward in your seat.
"I convinced the general manager of the hotel to take me under his wing. Help teach me more 'bout the hospitality industry. All the little tips and tricks, y'know? Like, pretendin' to offer an unhappy guest somethin' for free when it was already free with their stay. Offer 'em vouchers to use at the hotel restaurants. Not enough to cover their bill but enough to make 'em happy. That kinda thing."
You nodded along, mesmerized by the distant look in Joel's eye and the small smile tugging at his lips as he spoke.
"So, one day, I come to find out that general manager who mentored me was doin' some under the table shit. Any time someone famous would stay, he'd tip off the right people and get a decent buck. He figured the hotel wins 'cause it gets publicity, and he wins 'cause he's gettin' paid, right? Well, the owner didn't see it that way." Joel readjusted in his seat and you realized in that moment that it was the most he ever spoken to you at once.
"The owner didn't like that the paparazzi would be houndin' his guests. Made them wanna stay elsewhere. So, he got a memo one day 'bout who was tippin' off the paps and suddenly, that general manager job was open, and I got it."
You blinked slowly, replaying what he just said before you opened your mouth to reply.
"You got your manager fired and took his job?"
Joel chuckled dryly. "He did it to himself. I just saw an opportunity and took it."
"Okay..." you said, deciding to move past it. "Then what?"
"Spent several years as the GM at the Ritz, then the Plaza, til I realized I was thirty and had already made it as far as I could workin' for other men. A hotel off Fifth was goin' bankrupt, so I bought it with a couple other investors. My - I knew someone in construction, got a good deal on alotta materials and such, refurbished the entire spot, rebranded it and... The Parador was born."
"You did all this when you were thirty?"
Joel shrugged as if it were nothing but you could see the pride in his eyes. "Thirty-two when the first hotel opened."
"Whoa," you breathed while rubbing your eyes. You could see the sun beginning to break through the clouds in Joel's window. "That's so impressive, Joel. That's, like, a real rags to riches story."
He picked his phone up and tried to hide his pleased expression. "Why don't you go get some sleep? Gonna be a long flight 'n you should be well-rested when we get there."
You nodded and yawned behind your hand. "Are you sure you don't want to use the bed first?" you asked, but you were already standing up. He shook his head and motioned to his phone and laptop.
"I got work to do."
You wandered to the back of the plane and pushed open the door to the bedroom with a surprisingly decent sized bed. You weren't sure if you were just over tired or the mattress really was the most comfortable thing you'd ever laid on because within ten minutes, you were out like a light.
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With the time change, you couldn't be sure how long you slept, but when you awoke and cracked the shade to peer out through the clouds, the sun was high in the sky over the ocean. The sunlight reflected off the massive rock on your left hand and you took another moment to admire it before dragging yourself out of bed.
When you tiptoed back out into the cabin, your eyes immediately found Joel. He was standing up with his back to you with his cell phone clutched in his hands. You let your eyes travel lower and you realized at some point he had changed into a perfectly tailored, navy blue suit.
"Isn't it going to be hot when we land?" you asked. You didn't know much about Fiji but in the past week you did remember to check the weather, and from what you saw, the temperature was supposed to be hot and humid.
Joel swiveled around in surprise when he heard your voice, his gaze dropping down your frame and suddenly you felt incredibly underdressed in your baggy shirt and leggings.
"Don't matter. I'm here on business, I ain't here for a vacation," he reminded you, as if you somehow could have forgot. "There's a couple things hangin' in the closet for you. Go pick one out and change, then we can eat." He turned back around to focus on his phone and you frowned. You weren't used to someone bossing you around like he was prone to doing but you had to remind yourself you were being paid to be there and do a job. Without complaint, you slipped back into the bedroom and shut the door before opening what you assumed was the closet to review your choices.
Your eyes widened when you saw the sampling of clothes hung up for you. The labels read names of designers you only ever saw people in TV or magazines wear, and occasionally, Celine. Your fingers gently dragged over the soft fabrics, then pulled each item out to hold it against yourself, trying to decide before finally choosing a light blue halter dress that fell perfectly at your knee and laid it on the bed.
Next, you opened a drawer, thinking there would be purses or sunglasses, then blushed when you were faced with matching sets of lace lingerie. You remembered Joel insisted sex wasn't part of the deal, and you even signed a contract stating such, but why would he buy you such fancy underwear if he didn't expect to see it? And why was the prospect of him seeing it getting you excited?
You closed the drawer, deciding to use your own underwear, then continued to explore the rest of the dresser. You found a small purse that looked like it would pair well with the dress, as well as a small bag of toiletries and a hair brush. Once you were dressed, you sifted through the bag. Should you wear a full face of makeup? What do rich people do? Probably get enough facial peels and cosmetic surgeries so they wouldn't need makeup. Remembering the temperature forecast, you decided on some tinted moisturizer and one coat of mascara. You dabbed on some expensive looking lip balm with the pad of your middle finger before brushing your hair. It was a little flat from the nap, so you rummaged around the other drawers but had no luck finding a curling iron. Luckily, you remembered to pack one.
You opened the bedroom door and walked back out into the cabin, your eyes trailing all over as you went, looking for your bag.
"Joel?" you asked, and he dragged his attention from his laptop. When his dark eyes landed on you, his shoulders stiffened, then his gaze slowly raked up and down your body, taking in your new look. Your breath hitched in your throat under his scrutiny and you shifted your weight from foot to foot.
"Do you know where my bag is?" you asked, hoping he didn't hear the nervousness in your voice from the way he was looking at you.
"Hmm?"
"My bag? I need my curling iron."
He swallowed and forced his eyes back up to your face. "Under the couch, but your hair looks fine."
You leaned forward a bit and saw the strap of your bag under the couch, just as he said. "No, it's flat, I need to -"
"It's not flat. You look beautiful."
Beautiful? That was a big jump from fine.
Your eyes darted back and forth between him and the bag, wondering if you should obey. Ultimately, you chose to forget the curling iron and sat down across from him. He didn't give you the impression he was the type of guy who blew smoke up your ass, so if he thought you looked good - beautiful - then you did.
"Do you prefer pasta or salad?" Joel asked when he spotted one of the flight crew waltzing up behind you with a smile and a pad of paper in her hand.
"Uh, whatever you're having is fine," you replied. Joel nodded and ordered chicken salads with sparkling waters for you both and the attendant disappeared back into the galley.
"When do we land?" you asked, jostling your arm and holding it up. The dainty gold watch you found in one of the drawers slid around your wrist so you could check the time.
"Couple more hours. Glenn's supposed to meet us at the airport and give us a tour of the island before droppin' us off at our hotel. Then the plan is to meet him for dinner, 'long with all the others, I imagine."
"You mean, the other hotel moguls?" you asked, and he nodded. "Do you know them?"
"Most of 'em. There ain't much real estate left on these islands so I'm willin' to bet we'll see some heavy hitters."
Lunch arrived and you didn't realize how hungry you were until you smelled the chicken and your mouth began to water. When you took your first bite, you let out a little moan and rolled your eyes.
"This is the best airplane food I've ever had," you said, hiding your mouth behind your hand. Joel chuckled and took a bite of his own salad before swallowing and wiping the corner of his mouth.
"So, you like workin' for a production company?"
You glanced up at him in surprise. For some reason, you weren't expecting him to inquire much about your real life during this trip.
"Uh, yeah. It was fun, I got to meet interesting people. It was exciting to see how movies and TV shows get made. I kind of always wanted to work for a talent agency, though," you confessed before stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork and popping it into your mouth.
"Yeah? Why's that?"
His elbows were propped on the table between you, hands cupped together with his fork in between, dangling over his plate and giving you his full attention. His eye contact was intense and it made you nervous.
"I like the idea of getting to know someone well enough to understand the types of projects they would be good in while also finding a way to make a difference in their lives. Help them achieve their dreams, you know?" You gave him a shy smile, watching as he absorbed what you said.
"I can see you bein' good at that," he said after a moment.
"You're just saying that. You hardly know me," you replied before continuing to pick at your lunch.
"True, I don't know you that well, but I got a knack for readin' people. You're quick on your feet and you're a good listener. You don't let people steamroll you and you know your worth. And, you don't quit. You're determined. Probably to a fault." He stared at you, watching your face as you worked through several emotions at once before you slowly swallowed the food in your mouth and cleared your throat.
"You got all that from the brief amount of time we've known each other?" you asked softly.
"Yep," he replied, fighting back a smirk. "How'd I do?"
You grinned and looked down at your half eaten salad, trying to hide the embarrassment from your eyes when you replied, "not bad, actually."
When you were finished with your lunch and a crew member came to collect your plates, Joel picked up his phone and it was then you realized he hadn't looked at it once the entire time you were eating.
"Do you ever sleep?"
His glanced up at you with an amused look. "Occasionally."
"Workaholic, then?"
"You tryin' to get a read on me now?"
"Maybe," you said, biting your lower lip playfully.
He shook his head and focused back on his phone.
"Good luck, sweetheart."
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When the pilot announced he was getting ready to descend, your stomach started doing flips and your hands shook when you tightened your seatbelt. It seemed all the excitement you harbored before had quickly been replaced with anxiety. Taking a few deep breaths, you closed your eyes and tried to control your nerves, but Joel could see right through you.
"You good?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just getting nervous."
"Why?"
You opened your eyes. "I'm worried they'll be able to tell I'm not like you. I don't know all of the trendy designers and artists. I don't know the names of the chefs at Michelin star restaurants and I can't tell the difference between boxed wine and a three hundred bottle of Merlot." The words suddenly came tumbling out as quickly as you were landing but you found it actually felt better to talk to him about it. "For all I know, this ring could be fake but I'd believe it's real because it's heavy and shiny."
"You don't gotta worry 'bout any of that. I'll handle it. You just smile and look pretty and pretend you're in love with me. That's all you gotta do, okay?" he said with a soft tone you hadn't heard from him yet. "And trust me, the ring is real."
You grinned and looked out the window, feeling a little better. At that point, the plane had dipped below the clouds and you could see the crystal clear ocean and the lush tropical islands below. You noted a few resorts you could see from your side of the plane but at the very end of the island was a massive piece of land covered in palm trees and other thick greenery.
"That's the spot," he said as if he were reading your mind. "That's the piece of land we're here to get."
You took a deep breath and recalibrated, shaking off the anxiety. Instead, you rehearsed your story in your head and mentally practiced your greeting and smile, boosting your confidence while the wheels of the plane touched down and you were jolted forward in your seat. The seatbelt dug into your hips and your fingers gripped the armrests while the plane slowed down and eventually came to a stop.
There was a fancy looking car on the tarmac and an older gentleman with a sizable belly and a full head of white hair standing next to it with his hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo shorts and sandals.
Cargo shorts? That couldn't be...
"Glenn," Joel murmured in your ear when he stood up behind you and peered through the window.
"That's the real estate guy?" you asked while he fixed his tie. He reached down and scooped up his wallet and phone with a nod and was about to head to the stairs when you stopped him with your hands on his shoulders. "Let me fix this," you said quietly, making sure the collar of his shirt wasn't stuck underneath his blazer. When you were satisfied, you ran your palms across his shoulders with a smile. "Let's go knock 'em dead, honey."
Joel rolled his eyes but before he turned away, you caught the wide smile stretched across his face. That's where it went, you thought.
"Glenn!" Joel's deep voice boomed from the stairs as he made his way down with you following closely behind. "How the hell have ya been?" he asked, extending an arm just for Glenn to grab it and pull him into a hug with a few slaps on the back.
"I've been great, Joel. Thrilled you could make it, I know you're a busy man and taking a month out of your schedule is tough," Glenn replied with a toothy smile. Then his eyes trailed over Joel's shoulder and he lit up when he spotted you approaching. "Oh, who's this?"
Joel turned around with a radiant smile that stunned you for a moment until you remembered it was probably all for show. He introduced you by name and ushered you forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders lovingly while you stuck your arm out with a smile of your own to shake Glenn's hand. "This is my fiancée," Joel added, and it was impossible to miss the surprise on Glenn's face when he looked back at Joel.
"You're engaged?" he asked, the excitement evident in his tone. Joel grinned and nodded.
"Popped the question a few weeks back and she was crazy enough to say yes," he replied. This jovial version of Joel was throwing you off but you did your best to not give it much thought. Instead, you focused on your own little act: playing the smitten fiancée.
"It was on the beach in Santa Monica at sunset," you said, thrusting your left hand out for Glenn to look at your ring. He gave a low whistle and raised his eyebrows at Joel. "He knows I love the beach so much. I couldn't wait to come visit your beautiful island, I'm so excited to see it!" you gushed, wondering if you were laying it on too thick, but based on the sparkle in Glenn's eye, you were doing just fine.
"Well, come! Hop in and I'll take you around before dropping you off at The Greenview. Should only take an hour, then you can get settled in before dinner," Glenn said as he opened the backseat of the car for you to slide in. Joel followed after he gave his flight crew instructions on where to take your belongings and Glenn settled into the driver's seat with a grunt.
"How's Mary doin'?" Joel asked as Glenn pulled away from the tarmac.
"She's great, she'll be joining us tonight along with my boys."
"Joel mentioned you have six kids," you piped up and you saw Glenn nod his head.
"If there's one thing I've done right in my life, it's having those kids," he said warmly. You smiled, your nerves already put at ease. You were expecting an uptight, rich type, but Glenn seemed like the exact opposite. If it weren't for the expensive car, you never would have guessed he was wealthy.
"I can't wait to have kids of our own," you said dreamily, then risked a glance at Joel. He smirked and gently shook his head.
"You won't regret it. They'll take years off your life but, dammit, if it ain't worth it," Glenn said with a look at the two of you in his review mirror. "Maybe having a couple kids will loosen you up a bit, Joel. Don't tell me you brought suits to wear the whole time you're here."
Joel chuckled and took your hand in his. The touch surprised you given Glenn couldn't even see it from where he was sitting, but you enjoyed it all the same.
"Oh, you know me," was all he said, but Glenn tsked as he merged into traffic.
"It's way too hot for those kinda formalities. Tonight we're having dinner on the beach. You don't wanna get sand in those loafers, now, do ya?" Glenn teased. Joel chuckled and changed the subject while you gazed out the window, watching the cute little restaurants and stores fly by until the car turned and suddenly you had a fantastic view of the ocean.
"Oh, wow, look at the water," you breathed, squeezing Joel's hand. "I've never seen something so beautiful before," you added, unable to peel your eyes away from the white, sandy beaches and turquoise water. You heard Joel murmur in agreement next to you but you were too taken with the thick, tropical forests dotted with shocks of purples, pinks, yellows and whites from the hibiscus plants growing wild along the side of the road.
"I think island life will suit you," Glenn said from the front seat with a grin.
"I may never leave," you joked, making both men chuckle.
"Well, that settles it. You'll have to have the wedding here, Joel."
"Don't tempt me," he replied. You dragged your eyes away from your window to look at Joel, who gave you an appraising nod.
"I think she'll be good for you. Help you relax a bit," Glenn laughed before pointing out the restaurant where dinner will be held later that evening as he drove by.
"Guess we'll find out," Joel replied, his gaze lingering on you after you turned your attention back to the window.
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Glenn dropped you off in front of a beautiful resort named The Greenview, which, like many other resorts you saw along the way, was built to blend in and mimic the exotic landscape around it. The main entrance was built like a tiki hut with a fake thatched conical shaped roof and rounded, wooden pillars complete with knots framing the exterior entrance. When you followed Joel through the doors, you found the inside was similarly designed. A beautiful waterfall feature was displayed prominently in the lobby and when you walked by, you spotted brightly colored koi fish in the small pond below.
Once Joel checked you in, a bellhop ushered you towards the elevator, explaining all of the amenities the hotel had to offer as he led you to your room.
"Here we are, the Dream House Villa," he announced before unlocking the door and holding it open so you could walk in first. You gasped at the stunning layout, barely registering anything the bellhop was saying. The decor, much like the rest of the hotel, was an island theme. The floors and walls were all made of wood, and the small foyer you first stepped into held a little waterfall feature with gorgeous mood lighting built in.
You remembered what Joel had told you about containing your excitement so you bit your tongue and waited until the bellhop left before you whipped around to Joel with a huge smile plastered across your face.
"Look! There's an infinity pool right outside!"
"I see," he replied, but he appeared distracted. Still, you continued to lavish praise about the ocean view and you mentally pictured yourself relaxing on the covered daybed outside with a frozen cocktail as soon as possible. When it became apparent Joel wasn't in the same mood, you dialed it back.
"I'm sure your hotels are much nicer," you offered, but he waved you off.
"I need new clothes," he grumbled. You frowned and wandered over to follow him into the master suite where he had flung open one of the closets to reveal mostly suits, just like Glenn had suspected. "I can't stick out, I gotta blend in and make myself more relatable. He's a lot more casual since the last time I saw him. I had no idea he turned into Jimmy fuckin' Buffet."
You chewed on your bottom lip and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go shopping before dinner."
Joel groaned and rubbed his jaw. "My assistant usually does this kinda stuff."
"That's okay, I can help," you assured him. "It'll be fun. I saw a bunch of places on the way here we could check out."
Joel seemed to consider it for a moment before he sighed and shrugged off his blazer. "Alright. Lemme change and I'll meet you out there in five."
You turned to leave but when he called your name, you spun back around. "Here, your bag," he said, holding it out for you to take. "The crew brought all our stuff in here, we can move your clothes to the other room later."
"Oh, right, thanks," you said, taking the bag. "I'll go check my room out while you're getting ready."
The second bedroom was easy enough to find as it was directly across the hall. Both rooms had an ocean view and although Joel had his own bathroom attached and a king sized bed, you would do just fine with the queen bed and a bathroom down the hall.
You dropped your bag on the oversized white comforter and wandered aimlessly around the room, opening and closing dressers and drawers until you noticed two flat circular buttons built into the end table next to your bed.
"Hm," you said to yourself before pressing the first one and jumping when you heard a soft whirring noise behind you. You laughed out loud when a television appeared from behind two wood panels in the wall, then pressed the next button and watched the blinds slowly close, blocking out all the natural light flooding the room.
"What're ya doin' in the dark?" Joel's low voice carried over from the door. You pressed the button again and the blinds went back up.
"Just checking things out. Ready to go?" you asked, your gaze traveling down to take in his new outfit: a white polo shirt and khaki shorts.
"Yeah. Good thing I packed my golf clothes."
You followed him out of the room and through the rest of the villa. "You golf?"
"Yeah, but I hate it. Only came prepared 'cause I know Glenn likes to golf."
"You might be the first millionaire who hates golf," you teased when you walked by him as he held the door open for you. He grinned and made sure the door was shut tight before falling in step beside you.
"I don't mind the drinkin' part afterwards," he replied, then gently placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you into the open elevator car. You stood in a comfortable silence while the elevator took you back down to the lobby and you waited off to the side while Joel went to the front desk to request a car.
"You sure you know what you're doin'? You know anythin' 'bout fashion?" Joel asked once you settled into the backseat of a town car and he had given the driver instructions to take you to the nearest shopping plaza.
"Not really, but I saw what Glenn was wearing. I'm sure we can find some good options."
He hummed and nodded before slipping on his sunglasses and looking out the window, effectively ending the conversation. You decided to use that time to pull out your phone and text Celine, letting her know you arrived safely.
Don't forget to send me pics!
How are things with Joel? Is it awkward?
You glanced over at him, making sure he couldn't see over your shoulder before replying.
Actually things are pretty good
He's not so bad once you get to know him
You rolled your eyes when Celine's next message came through.
Remember - you're only pretending to be his fiancée ;)
Then again, if I had a daddy who looked like him, I would try to make that fantasy a reality lol
The car pulled over and came to a stop in front of a strip of shops along a quaint looking road so you quickly told Celine you would check in with her later before the driver opened your door and you slid out, patting down your dress and looking around.
"Let's try there," you said once he joined you at your side. You pointed to a store a few doors down from where the car was parked. Inside the window, you could see male mannequins sporting trendy looking beachware.
When you opened the door, you were greeted with beautiful island music filtering through the speakers. The walls were painted a deep shade of blue, most likely chosen because of the resemblance to the water, and a hand painted mural of a beach with the sun glittering off the ocean was painted behind the register.
You began to sift through the nearest rack, pulling out various linen button downs and crochet shirts after confirming his size. Joel wandered deeper into the store to look at pants while you examined each article of clothing carefully. You were trying to decide if Joel could pull off bright purple when a young woman with big hoop earrings and a loose fitting paisley dress approached with a smile.
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
You gave her a cheesy grin and held up the shirts draped over your arm. "I'm shopping for my fiancé. We just arrived and the airport lost his luggage, can you believe it?" You gave her a devestated look which she sympathetically mirrored and stretched her arms out.
"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry to hear that! Let me take those into a fitting room for you."
"Thank you so much, I'll find him and bring him right back."
You watched her sashay to the back of the store with the armful of shirts you had picked out before turning around just to find Joel standing on the other side of the rack.
"You're good at this," Joel said, sounding astonished.
"Good at what?" you asked.
"You're good at thinkin' on your feet and comin' up with these stories." He rounded the rack and, with a little smirk, gently pinched your chin affectionately between his thumb and forefinger. It happened so fast you didn't even have time to register it before he was walking in the direction of the fitting rooms with some shorts and pants slung over his shoulder. Trailing after him, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest, telling yourself his touch just took you by surprise and that's all it was.
You sat in a whicker chair outside Joel's fitting room, one leg crossed over the other as you fondled the ring on your finger and listened to Joel muttering under his breath on the other side of the door.
"Are you ever going to come out of there?" you asked. He shuffled around the room and swung the door open with a deep sigh.
"I don't know 'bout some of these shirts," he said, eyes flickering to a bunch hung up separately from the rest. "The neckline's too low, I don't wear stuff like that."
"Oh, come on! At least let me see what they look like on," you begged. "I like what you have on now," you added, pointing to the light blue linen shirt and relaxed fit khakis.
"Yeah, this ain't bad," he agreed, tugging on the material a bit before shutting the door. "I'll try one of these on and that's it," he called out. You could hear the rustling of fabric and the metal scratch of a zipper and you grinned at how easily the two of you fell into these roles you were playing.
When he opened the door a few minutes later, you were completely unprepared. He had chosen to pair a green crochet top with a pair of white shorts that fell right above his knee but your eyes were glued to the generous amount of smooth, tanned chest that was exposed from the plunging V neck.
Your lips parted as you continued to stare, watching the way the muscles and tendons in his neck twitched as he spoke. Shit, he was speaking and you had no idea what he said.
"Huh?"
Joel frowned. "I said, this ain't my style. At all. I look ridiculous."
"No, you do not look ridiculous, you look good," you immediately argued.
"I'm too old for-"
"No, Joel, listen to me: you look really fucking hot," you blurted out, still staring at his bronze chest. He fell silent and a moment later, you realized what you said and felt your cheeks flare with heat. Snapping your eyes up to his, you began to apologize.
"I'm sorry, that was probably inappropriate, Jesus Christ," you muttered, pressing the palms of your hands against your cheeks to hide your embarrassment, but he just chuckled and dropped his gaze to the floor. When he turned around to close the door, you noticed in the mirror his own cheeks were beginning to stain pink from the compliment.
Joel didn't say anything else about your comment but he ended up buying all the clothes you picked out for him. When you saw the V neck shirts being rung up, he shot you a wink. You grinned and shyly looked away, once again ignoring that excited feeling in your chest.
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"Hope this dinner ends quick, I'm fuckin' beat," Joel grumbled at your side as he led you up to the host stand, one hand wrapped around the inside of his elbow and the other clutching a small, blue purse that matched the backless floor length dress you chose with blue palm leaves printed all over.
"You should have slept on the plane," you murmured, then gave the host a bright smile as Joel told him Glenn's name. He quickly ushered you through the restaurant and onto the beach, where a long table was set up and decorated with vibrant, gorgeous tropical flowers.
The seats were already filled by the other guests, who were sitting and leaning across the table to chat and laugh with drinks in hand.
"Alright, here we go," Joel told you before taking a deep breath and forcing a big smile and wave when one of the men caught his eye.
"Scott! It's been years!" he exclaimed. You smiled and loosened your grip so Joel could give the other man a welcoming hug.
After ten minutes of introductions, your head was spinning. You decided to keep it to one alcoholic drink that evening because you needed to keep a clear head and memorize who the people were that you were up against. Scott and his wife Tammy owned a chain of hotels in the northeast and appeared to be a little older than Joel. Harry owned a handful of exotic resorts mostly in Latin America but was looking to expand. He was accompanied by his husband, Ian, who was an artist. Jack and Lynne had a large footprint of three star hotels across America but as Joel told you later, their hotels lacked character. And finally, Zachary owned a string of hotels similar to The Parador but had a French motif. Zachary brought along his much younger girlfriend, Zoe, who seemed incredibly sweet.
"Down at the end, those two younger guys? They're Glenn's boys. The ones that'll take over for him when he retires," Joel said, jutting his chin in their direction. You casually glanced down the table and saw two men in their late twenties on either side of Glenn and his wife, Mary. You could see the family resemblance in their faces but one had dark, almost black hair, and the other's hair was dirty blonde.
"What are their names?"
"The blonde's Trevor, the other one's Brooks."
"Trevor and Brooks," you repeated softly to yourself, silently testing your memory as you went down the table, naming each person in your head as you went. Joel watched you for a moment before he leaned in.
"You're doin' great, don't worry."
You flashed him a smile and whispered your thanks right as the first course arrived.
For a majority of the meal, you smiled and laughed at the right times while you listened to rich people tell stories about their conflicts with private schools or run-ins with government officials, stories that made the conversations you have with your friends over dinner sound like they took place in a third grade cafeteria. Joel also remained relatively quiet with the exception of tossing in a quick comment here or there to be polite but when you looked at him, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. It was no wonder he wasn't prepared when Glenn and Mary, who had just gotten done telling the table how they met in high school, asked to hear how all the couples met.
Great, you thought to yourself. We rehearsed this, it will be fine.
Scott went first, telling a funny and cute story about how he met Tammy in college. He had walked into the wrong class and he was too embarrassed to leave so he sat through a three hour lecture on women's studies. It only took him thirty minutes to realize he was the only man in the room and Tammy found his humility endearing. The rest was history.
Glenn and Mary exchanged warm glances at the story, gushing over them and saying words like fate and soulmate.
Next, Zachary began to boast about how he met Zoe, and the look on Glenn and Mary's faces slowly changed.
"It was opening night for The Barber of Seville. I had just sat down in my seat when this beautiful thing came through the curtain, absolutely convinced we were sitting in her seat. I said, 'Darling, I've had the same box seats in this theater since before you were born,'" Zachary laughed and the rest of the table joined in but you noticed Glenn and Mary only gave him tight, polite smiles as he continued.
"Well, I was taken with her, I mean, can you blame me?" Zachary joked, tossing his arm around Zoe's shoulders. "I insisted she stay and enjoy the show. By the end of the evening I was chartering my private jet to whisk her off to Italy that very night..."
Zachary continued to tell the table about Italy and all the expensive restaurants he took her to when Joel leaned into your side.
"We can't go with our story."
You whipped your head around to look at him, eyes wide.
"What do you mean?" you asked, panic lacing your voice.
"It's too pretentious. Look at them, they hate every goddamn word," he said quietly, snaking his arm around your shoulders so it looked like he was maybe talking about the food or how beautiful you looked. "We can't tell some story about your looks and my wealth. It's gotta be, fuckin'... I don't know. Warm. Romantic." He rubbed nervously at the back of his neck.
"I thought it was romantic..."
"Not enough."
"Okay, so what do we say?" you whispered.
"I don't know, I gotta think. Fuck," he grumbled, "I'm too fuckin' tired for this shit."
Unfortunately, Joel didn't have the luxury of time because Zachary finally finished up his long-winded story and Glenn's eyes landed on the two of you.
"Well, you told me how he proposed but we'd all love to hear how you first met," Glenn said, leaning forward, elbows pressed into the table with a sparkle in his eye. You glanced at Joel, your heart slamming wildly in your chest, and you knew immediately he couldn't think of anything new. He sighed and clenched his jaw before opening his mouth, about to launch into the only story you had talked about when you cut him off with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, let me tell it," you said lovingly. You could see the confusion in his eyes as they shifted back and forth between you and Glenn and he slowly nodded before you turned back to your host.
"Joel hired me," you began, dropping your hand from his shoulder. "I was a nobody. Hardly any experience but he took a chance and hired me to manage the floor staff at The Parador Los Angeles. I was so grateful for the job that I would stay late almost every night just to make sure everything was perfect for our guests." You shot Joel what you hoped was a loving glance before continuing with your bullshit story.
"One night, as I was walking down to my car, I ran into Joel on the elevator. He was surprised I was staying so late and I explained we had a wedding the next day and I wanted to make sure the wedding party's favors were all set. Each room was supposed to get a box of Belgium chocolates but they melted in transport so I ran out to get fresh ones. Anyway," you said with a little smile, acting as if you were getting lost in a memory. Glenn and Mary appeared more and more delighted with each word. "I think it impressed him because after that night, I saw him almost every day. He would walk across the floor and wouldn't say a word but I caught him looking at me once or twice. Then, I got a call one day at the front desk, and guess who it was."
"Joel?" Mary asked excitedly. You nodded and leaned into Joel's shoulder.
"He asked me to come up to his office. I couldn't decide if he was firing me or giving me a promotion, but turns out, it was neither. He asked me to dinner and do you remember what I said?" you asked, turning to face Joel with a sweet smile. He was giving you a look you couldn't quite read and you just hoped you were doing the right thing.
"Uh, I think-" he began, but you waved him off and turned back to Mary. Fuck it, you were in too deep now, anyway.
"I laughed. I laughed in his face! I didn't believe him! Why would someone like him want anything to do with someone like me? I didn't come from a wealthy family. I didn't have connections or anything to offer. But he picked me. And every day since, I wake up and ask myself," you turned your head to gaze up adoringly at Joel. "How did I get so lucky?"
He pinned you with an intense stare and, without hesitating, Joel pressed his lips against yours so softly it almost made you gasp. He tasted like the wine he had with dinner and the hairs from his mustache tickled your nose. You giggled and pulled away, but not before dragging the pad of your thumb over his lip to remove your lipstick that transferred.
"Oh, that's just the sweetest story! Isn't it, Glenn?" Mary gushed, grabbing onto his arm with a huge smile. You tore your eyes away from each other to look back down the table. "It's like something out of a movie or book!"
"Goddamn, Joel, I didn't realize you were such a romantic. Now I gotta step up my game over here," he joked before pinching Mary's chin.
Harry and Ian were next to tell their story but you weren't listening. Your pulse was racing and your hands shook in your lap as your adrenaline began to wear off. Then, Joel's hand slid over your thigh, giving your leg a little reassuring squeeze as if he could sense your nervousness.
"You did so good, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear, making your skin prickle.
He could have removed his hand after that. No one was looking, no one could even see, but he didn't. He kept it planted there as if he were grounding you to him. Occasionally, he would laugh at something one of the other guests said or take a sip of wine, but his hand remained steady under the table. The longer it stayed, the more it became the only thing you could focus on.
Once dinner wrapped up and everyone stood, his hand finally dropped and you instantly longed for his touch again. On the way back to the hotel, Joel took a work call, which you tuned out. Instead, you spent the time telling yourself it was the wine and the jet lag that had you feeling fuzzy and excited.
In the elevator on the way up to your room, once you had some privacy, Joel turned to you and quietly said your name. When you looked into his eyes, what you saw caused your breath catch in your throat. He was looking at you with a tenderness you didn't think he was capable of and it made you swallow nervously.
"How'd you come up with that story on the fly like that?" he asked, his features softening and gaze only dipping from your eyes to your lips once.
It didn't mean anything.
"I-I don't know, it just came to me, I guess," you replied a little breathlessly.
It looked like he was about to say something else when the elevator doors slid open. He pressed his hand against the side of the car to hold the doors while you stepped out into the hall. He fell in step beside you as you walked the short distance to your room in silence.
"Thank you," he managed to say once he opened the door, letting you both in.
You shrugged as if it were nothing but on the inside you were preening, excited that you had managed to please him. When you entered into this unusual situation, you had no idea what to expect or how to behave, but considering how well the first day went, maybe you overthought things.
"I'm sure the original story would have been fine, too."
He nodded and tossed the keycard on the table by the door before strolling into the kitchenette for two waters.
"Wouldn't've ruined my chances, most likely, but I think the new story put me a notch above good ol' Zach, at least," he said with a grin and handing you a bottle of water. You took it with a small thanks and awkwardly looked around the huge villa.
"Well, you should try to get some sleep now," you told him, turning just in time to catch the way his eyes flickered over the soft curves of your body.
With a tired sigh, he nodded in agreement. "'Bout to fall asleep standin' up," he joked, walking down the short hallway between your two rooms, the both of you coming to a stop outside your doors.
"Okay. Good night," you said, not wanting to prolong the tension that was building up since you left dinner.
"Night."
You opened your door and gave him a quick smile over your shoulder before disappearing inside your room. You leaned against the door and took a deep, steadying breath in, then pushed off before going deeper into your room.
Before dinner, the two of you had moved all your things into your closet and you had the foresight to toss a pair of pajamas on your bed before you left. Shimmying out of your second dress of the day, you slipped on the lavender cotton tank top and matching shorts before grabbing your bag of toiletries, but when you reopened your door to go to the bathroom, you were surprised to find Joel on the other side with his hand raised as if he were about to knock.
"Oh!" you gasped in surprise.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"It's okay, I didn't hear you."
He scratched his chin before pulling a white envelope out of his pocket and handing it to you.
"What's this?" you asked, taking it but not opening it.
"For you. For tonight. You did good, so..." he trailed off and stared at the plush carpet beneath his feet. Then it dawned on you what it was and your eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh, you don't -"
"I want to. You were hired for a job and you did it well, so you deserve it."
Your gaze dropped to the envelope, flipping it over in your hand before nodding.
"It's my pleasure," you finally replied, throat a little tight. When your eyes met again, that little glimpse of the softer side to him was gone and the cold blooded business man you first met was back.
"Alright, then. G'night," he said abruptly, then turned on his heel and disappeared back into his bedroom.
After you washed up and got into bed, you scrolled on your phone for a bit before sighing and looking at the envelope of cash propped up against the lamp on your end table, acting as a glaring reminder of what you were hired to do.
So why did you feel so conflicted taking it?
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sweetbans29 · 4 months ago
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Support - CC
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Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You are an advocate for Caitlin's W transition (based on THIS request)
Warnings: fluff
Word Count: 5.1k
Sweetban Masterlist
AN: The request was very specific and I am going to be honest, I did not follow it to a T but I hope you enjoy!
"Hey CC, you better hurry up the game is starting," Jada yells from the couch. Caitlin taps the microwave in hopes that will speed up the popcorn. It doesn't.
Cait hurridly puts the chocolate chip cookies on a plate, cursing as she keeps burning her hand on the cookie sheet that she just pulled from the oven. She places the last cookie on the plate, grabs the popcorn bag, and scurries to the living room with the other girls.
The team had just finished a summer training session and booked it back to Caitlin's place to watch the game. It was one they all had been talking about for weeks.
"You know one of you could have helped me," Caitlin says passing the popcorn to Jada and placing the plate of cookies on the table. A swarm of hands comes to grab them, leaving 2 on the plate.
"You didn't ask," Jada says like it was a fact, and Caitlin rolls her eyes.
"Sorry, we'll help next time," Kate says as she finishes her cookie.
"Yeah, whatever," Caitlin says as the game tips off.
"CC, my popcorn is burnt," Jada whines as she tries to pick through the burnt pieces.
Caitlin doesn't respond, her eyes glued to the screen as you make your first appearance in 11 months.
You were the first pick in the 2021 draft, there was no question about it. You had led your team to two championships, back to back. There wasn't much left you felt you needed to do at a college level and declared for the draft. The NY Liberty getting first overall pick made the decision a no-brainer.
When you were drafted, you were in the best physical shape of your life. Tired, yes, but more ready than you have ever been for the jump to the W. Getting to NY and starting in training camp confirmed even more that this was the right decision for you. When games started, you realized that the transition was way more than you had expected. The physicality yes, but the mental transition was even harder. You went from a near-perfect season your senior year to losing what felt like every other game.
You were only 7 games into the season when the worst happened. It was during an away game in Minnesota when you went down and you went down hard. The pop in your left knee was something you were trying hard to ignore but the scream you let out was anything but ignorable. When it happened the whole arena went silent as you made your way off the court - only accepting help when you got to the tunnel. After a few scans, you learned you had torn your ACL, officially taking you out of your rookie season.
Caitlin remembers watching the game when it happened. If Cait were honest, she had been watching your game since you entered college. She watched your freshman year as your game immediately translated into a college setting. She watched as they built a team around you your sophomore year, already anticipating playing you when she becomes a Hawkeye. Then your senior year, her freshman year, when your team knocked out hers in the Sweet Sixteen.
It was in Caitlin's freshman year when you had been posted up against her - playing elite defense and causing Cait to have the single worst game in her college career thus far. She went back and reviewed the tape multiple times to see what had caused her to become so shaken. As she watches it, she realizes several things.
First off, you put your head down and do the work. She rarely sees you arguing with the refs when a call doesn't go your way. She actually finds it comical how your teammates go up questioning the ref or trying to explain how what her team did was a foul and you just jogged to the other end of the court.
Second, she noticed how calm you were while playing. You handled the ball like you were playing a pick-up game with some friends. It was mesmerizing to Caitlin. So often she felt like she played all over the place, and if she were to watch herself it was obvious, but when she watched you - you never once seemed jarred.
Third, your vision is similar to hers. She can only assume you see what she sees. Your vision on the court and IQ for the game is one that she hopes to continue working at. As Cait watches you scout out the floor, you don't always go with what she would expect or do herself. It was almost like a game of chess to you. If you saw the defense react a certain way, you would adjust and get them thinking you were going one way when really you would get everyone to shift, waiting until the last second to show your hand. That is what got under Caitlin's skin during the game. It was almost as if you were baiting her and were playing a head game with her. It was most obvious when you were on defense and were able to pick apart her offensive strategy. It was almost like you knew what Caitlin was going to do before she knew it.
The last thing she noticed had nothing to do with the game, and she almost missed it the first four times she watched the tape, but it was the way she caught herself looking at you. Caitlin throughout the whole game was stealing glances of you. She thinks back to the game and feels herself start to blush. She remembers how your cheeks would tint red and how you stood there with your hands on your hips when something was taking too long. She remembers how your team would gravitate to you because she also wanted to. She remembers how after playing a whole game, when you were giving high-fives, you looked over and smiled at her - your eyes looking directly into hers until she finally broke the contact. She realized that not only was she swayed by your game but she took a particularly deep liking to you.
As Caitlin sits with her team watching your first game back, yes she is watching you because it is your comeback game but also because since she has realized she has taken a particular liking to you, she wants to watch you nonstop.
You take the court and isn't the game you want as your first one back but you are back. You are still figuring out how to move on the court with the adjustment of a weaker knee but know that will come with time. To anyone watching, you looking good as new but you know your game is different - so does Caitlin.
You end the game going 12/4/8 with 2 steals and a block. You aren't super happy but you know you are your biggest critic. You also have to remember this is the first game of the season. After the game, you check your phone to see messages from a handful of people congratulating you, responding to them all with some sort of reaction you open Instagram and scroll. Any time you see anything about you, you scroll right past it.
You stop on a post about the winner of the Dawn Staley Award winner. You see it went, for the second time, to Caitlin Clark - a guard out of Iowa. You wrack your brain and remember playing her in college, she is a solid player. It is tough that she has won the award back to back her freshman and sophomore years. You post the achievement to your story with the caption '1-of-1'. You then click on her profile and give her a follow before locking your phone and heading to the post-presser.
Caitlin gets a notification and immediately stands up. When the game ended, the girls didn't move and kept snacking on whatever was in front of them. Cait is the first one to move.
"Woah, are you okay there?" Kate asks grabbing Caitlin's calf. Kate's sitting right next to Caitlin and lost balance when the girl decided to stand up without any sort of notice.
Caitlin didn't know what to say as she just stared at the notification of you following her. She shows Kate.
"Holy shit, there is no way," Kate says looking at her phone. "That is sick."
The other girls are asking what happened and Kate tells them that you followed Caitlin. Cait sits back down and taps on your story only to see a photo of her. She sits there with a stupid smile on her face. You know who she is. You know who Caitlin is. You posted about her winning an award right after you just took the first dub of the season.
Caitlin tries not to let it get to get head considering you are a pro and she still had two (possibly three) more years in college but that is hard to do when the player she is crushing on now knows who she is.
Time flies when you are having fun. At least that is what Caitlin tells herself as she has just played in her last college game. What a time it has been for her. She brought her team to the championship game twice but fell short both times, never being named with a title. She is now headed to the WNBA draft and will likely go first, making her way to Indiana.
The transition is fast and before she knows it, she is moving in to an apartment in Indianapolis and preparing for training camp. When games begin, she feels like she hasn't received a break in what feels like a year. In reality, it has only been six months but the amount of play she has had both in her senior year and entering the W is overwhelming.
The thing is - Caitlin would never outright say she is overwhelmed, rather just swallow it and keep going. She may not say anything but her body language and eyes tell the story.
You on the other hand have started the season out on fire. Your mindset for this year was redemption. Over the last two years, your game wasn't where you had wanted it to be coming out of college and coming back from a major injury but where you are now is a much better place than you were before. The year you came back from injury, your game was anything but great. You had the worst season you had ever had playing, including the very first year you started with the sport. It was downright embarrassing but that is what drove you to be where you are now. It may have taken longer than anyone had expected but you have arrived.
It is a few games in when you are asked about the rookie guard.
"What are your thoughts on Caitlin Clark? She has been struggling in her transition and many people have been comparing it to your start in the W," one reporter asks. You smile and let out a little chuckle.
"You all love to pick apart a player when they're down, don't you," you begin and your media manager is in the back corner giving you a death stare. When it comes to the media, you have never had a problem calling them out. Unlike you on the court where you just put your head down and play, when it comes to how the media depicts players - well that is something you don't stand for.
"You need to give the girl some space to breathe. I feel like every time I open Twitter it is a huge rookie feast and it's not cool. It is like the world has forgotten they just got done playing their asses off in March and now you expect them to come into a league, freshly adapted to a different game," you say and continue before anyone can cut you off. "It was just a few days ago when I saw something circulating about how these rookies are facing a rude awakening and I laughed. I laugh because people are not looking at the whole picture. Looking at her box score is not a fair assessment of her game. I've been able to catch a few of the Fever games and yes, they have room to grow but all of our teams do. Do you all see the way she is running the floor? Have you looked into how many times she touches the ball? Like, come on, her vision of the game is the same as it was in college - she is now, alongside a team, are both learning how to adapt to play with her. You all may not say she is coming in and dominating but just watch - she will have you all stunned by the Olympic break - use that a headline."
You glance back at your media manager and they have they are rubbing their eyes as their head shakes back and forth. You personally don't think you have said anything out of line but you know you'll get an earful for something. And you do but not as badly as you thought you would.
On the other side of things, Caitlin gets out of a game where she went 8/5/9. She got in her head and stayed there. She gets out of her own post-presser to see a link from Jada.
When Caitlin opens it, she sees you with the headline '[Clark] will have everyone stunned by Olympic break'. Caitlin quickly opens the link and watches you talk. A smile can't help but make its way to her face as you call the media out and speak praises about her.
'Just wait until you see this game, if you see this game', Caitlin thinks as she flinches again at the thought of her efficiency this last game. The link is followed by Jada being Jada.
[Jadaaa: Your girl's got your back, think you can work up the nerve to talk to her when you face off in a few weeks?]
Caitlin knows the younger girl is joking but the feeling that swells in the pit of her stomach thinking about talking to you has her feeling sick.
As much as Caitlin doesn't want to think about you, she does. She can't help it. The last time she faced up against you, you handed her the single worst game she has ever played and in her mind, she wants to show you what she's got.
Little to her knowledge, you were also looking forward to your match-up against the rookie. It has been years since you played against her and look forward to seeing how she has grown. Also, to see how you two match up in the W.
The game finally comes, too slowly in Caitlin's eyes but finally here.
You are the first one on the court. It's not unusual for anyone who knows you but when Caitlin walks out, she stops dead in her tracks. She should have known you would be on the court already but she was so used to being the first one out that it never occurred to her that there would be someone else out there with her.
Caitlin makes her way out and begins to warm up herself. She wants to go over and talk to you but chooses to keep stealing glances. Soon enough, the whole team is out doing a shoot around and the opportunity has passed.
The game is about to begin as the teams take the floor. You go over and hug one of Cait's teammates and high-five the others. When you make your way to Caitlin, everything moves in slow motion for the younger girl.
You come up to her, wrapping one of your arms around her waist. You lean in and whisper something only she can hear.
"Have fun today, it's just you and me on the court - forget about everyone else, and let's have some fun." You tell her.
Caitlin smiles and nods as her cheeks heat up from your closeness. You pat her lower back and get positioned.
The game is a battle.
You play like you have been since the beginning of the season. You hit your double-double in the third quarter and are working towards a triple-double, which would be the second one of the season if you get there.
Cait is also playing better than she has yet and you can even see a little smile come out every now and again.
It is in the fourth when the two of you are standing next to each other during one of your team's free throws.
"Having fun?" You ask.
"Actually, I am," she says, surprising herself with her answer.
"It will get more fun, just wait and see. You're getting there C," you say and she smiles.
"I actually want to tha-" Caitlin begins but is cut short when your teammate knocks down both free throws and the ball is back in the Fever's possession.
The fourth quarter finishes and your team had come out on top by just 2 points. The closest game of the season thus far. It was probably the most fun you had in a game since you got to the W.
In the post-presser, you are asked about the rookie guard again.
"Now that you have faced Caitlin firsthand, what are some challenges you see in her game?" a male reporter asks.
You flat-out laugh at the question.
"You're kidding me, right?" You say and you already see your media manager waving her hands in the air to stop whatever it is you are about to say.
"I am tired of you guys hounding her into the ground. She played a tremendous game today - what was it, another double-double for the rookie? What more does she have to do to show you all she is already dominating in the W? This is midway through her first season playing the sport professionally. She is already doing the damn thing. What you all should be asking is how much more capable is she? If she is doing this in her first year, what will she be doing next year? In 2 years? 5? Like come on, she is already playing better than any of you could so I don't know why we are still talking about what she can't do," you say and stand, tired of their stupid questions.
You are on your way out when you add one last thing.
"Caitlin Clark is a force of nature. She is one of one, I said it about her in college and I will say it again with her in the W. She is unlike anyone we have seen before and you should all be more concerned with how high her ceiling is versus how low to the ground she stands."
You walk out and wait for your media manager to rip you another new one. You don't care and just take it.
When you get back to your hotel, you ignore all the things you are tagged in and open Caitlin's profile.
[You: Hey, this may seem out of the blue but I wanted to let you know I am on team Caitlin. You know the media spins things but keep your head down and play your game and they will see. I've been where you are, I know the media is a circus. Feel free to call or text if you need anything]
You follow your first message with a second that contains your number. It was a little bold and your motives are pure, mostly.
No one asked but if they did, you would tell them that you remember playing Caitlin in college. You remember how your one and only match-up was one of the toughest of your college career. You would speak to how you have followed her ever since, catching every game you could when she played. You were just as mesmerized as she was and neither of you had a clue.
Cait gets back to her apartment and falls on her bed. She unlocks her phone for the first time since the game, a rare occasion but she doesn't want anything to do with what the media was saying about her after that game.
Similarly to when you first followed her, she shoots up to a sitting position on her bed. She scans the message a thousand times.
Caitlin, who was just tired is now wide awake and smiling. She cannot believe her favorite player (and crush) has just given her phone number.
Her phone begins to go crazy in an old team group chat.
[Jadaaa: CAITLIN FREAKIN CLARK]
Jada then sends a link to another post-game presser.
[KMoney: Bro, it is your game to lose now. She's pro-Clark]
[Stulke: I'll start planning the wedding!]
[Caitlin: I bet you can't guess who just got her number 🫣]
[Jadaaa: SHUT UP]
[Stulke: Yep, wedding planning in progress]
[KMoney: I call dibs on making a speech]
[Jadaaa: Get in line Kate, I am getting first speech]
[Caitlin: Shut up]
Caitlin debated sending you a message but decided to wait until the morning. When Caitlin wakes up, she shoots you a text.
[C: Hi...I want to say thank you for always defending me. You really don't have to but I appreciate it]
[C: It's Caitlin btw]
[C: Caitlin Clark if that wasn't clear]
Caitlin feels like an idiot after she texts three times in a row. She locks her phone and throws her head into her pillow with a groan when she hears a 'ding'. She pulls her phone up to her face.
[You: I thought you weren't going to message]
[You: It's cute that you felt the need to put your first and last name]
[C: Didn't want to get mixed up with someone else]
[C: I don't know how often you hand out your number]
[You: Not often]
[You: So...who is Caitlin Clark?]
The two of you messaged pretty consistently. Messages turned to phone calls, phone calls turned to Facetimes then before you knew it you both were talking about anything and everything.
Caitlin's season has gotten better as the Fever as a team has grown, winning more games in a stretch than losing.
It is a few games later after a win that Caitlin is sitting in a post-presser with Aliyah. An interviewer asks if Caitlin has seen the clips of you talking about her in her post-pressers.
Caitlin blushes and looks down, trying to hide her rosy cheeks. Aliyah chuckles and nudges the girl who is now covering her uncontrolled smile with a towel.
"Ya...I've seen them," she says as she removes the towel to show her smile. "I think it is pretty cool how she stands up for me. I have been watching her for years now and love her game so it means a lot when she speaks of me with such grace."
"Ya, I've caught CC watching that presser probably five times now," Aliyah says throwing Caitlin to the wolves. Someone's got to do it right?
Caitlin playfully pushes Aliyah.
"Way to out me," Caitlin says and hides her face again.
There aren't many more questions asked and Caitlin feels like she is in the clear. That is until she gets a call from you.
"Hi," she says with a smile. She doesn't know it but you can tell by her tone when she is smiling.
"Five times, five times is a lot C," you tease her.
She is glad you aren't standing in front of her because the blush that had subsided from the presser is fully back. The truth is that she watched it 15+ times now.
"What can I say? I like watching people praise me," she says trying to speak with confidence.
"Isn't that cute," you say.
"And you are the one who is calling me right after I get out of a presser and you are calling me obsessed?" Caitlin asks.
"That's fair, I won't call next time," you say and Caitlin immediately says 'no'. You laugh and she is thankful you can't see how fast her face turned red.
The conversation is light and flirty before she has to go.
"I'll see you at All-Star weekend," you say, and are looking forward to seeing the rookie. It would be another fun match-up with you being on the Olympic team and her being an All-Star.
"I look forward to kicking your ass," she says, the confidence in her voice dominating over the phone.
You laugh and give her some nonsense response. You've learned she wouldn't talk a big game to the public but when it was just the two of you, that's a completely different story. To you, she talks a big game and you let her. You know she has the game to back it up but you also know you have the ability to slow her down and that is exactly what the plan is for your next meeting.
The weekend arrives and the fun begins. You are included in the starting lineup for the Olympic team while Caitlin is in the starting lineup for the All-Stars.
Your eyes meet hers and you smile. She returns it as you walk up to her. You greet her.
"You ready?" You ask as you pinch at her hip. She swats your hand and shakes her head but your hands are persistent.
"Oh I am more than ready," she says trying to hide her smile.
"Why don't we put a little skin in the game," you say as you lean into her.
"I win, I get to take you out," you say and Caitlin feels a heat rise in her.
"And what do I get if I win?" She chokes out.
"Whatever. You. Want," you say. Caitlin smirks.
"You're on," she says as the two of you shake on it.
The two of you go head-to-head in the game. Caitlin plays one of the best games she has in the W so far. You take note of how hard the girl is working but you also put in the work, having quite the game yourself.
In the final minutes, the score is tied. Your teams switch off points as the seconds wind down.
You have control of the ball, trying to set up the play. Caitlin is guarding you - poking her hand in to try to get the ball away from your hands. You turn and use the screen that Stewie sets up for you, stepping back you put up the three. As you come down, Cait gives you a little push causing you to fall to the ground but you just catch sight of the ball bouncing on and then out of the rim.
Caitlin then proceeds to stand over you, in the heat of the moment, showing you and the crowd that she is tough.
You get to your feet and bump her chest - exchanging a few words.
Someone comes and pushes you back from Cait while they grab Caitlin's arm but you don't back down, bumping Caitlin again.
By now both of your teams have gotten involved and the refs are trying to separate the two of you. As you feel yourself being pulled back you blow Caitlin a kiss.
You both receive techs.
In the final few seconds, all you have to do is not foul and play solid defense which you do, making Caitlin pass it for the final shot that doesn't fall. Team USA taking the victory.
As you celebrate with the team on the court, you also go and hug your opponents from the night making a conscious decision to end with Cait.
When you go in to hug her, you can tell she is moody.
"I'm picking you up at 10 tonight, be ready," you say and wink at her.
As much as Caitlin wanted to win, she couldn't help but be excited.
Once everyone clears out and makes their way back to the hotel, you quickly shower and head to pick Cait up.
When you get to her door and knock, she answers within seconds.
"Someone is a little eager," you joke and she blushes.
"Well it's 10:20 so technically you're late," she says.
You laugh.
"Okay C, come on," you say and lead her on a walk. The two of you talk and she opens up about her experience so far, asking you questions left and right. You answer every single one of them.
"Where are you taking me?" She asks, half expecting the two of you to just stay in her room.
"Patience, we are almost there," you say as you make a turn and Caitlin sees it.
You have brought her to an outdoor court. It is dimly lit and there is a single basketball laying on one side.
You jog to pick up the ball and she walks over to you.
"I just had the best game of my career so far and you want me to play more?" She asks trying to sound annoyed but she isn't annoyed at all.
"Thought we could play a little one-on-one," you say bouncing the ball between your legs before passing it to her. You can tell she is a little skeptical but goes along with it. She begins to bounce the ball and your hand immediately finds her hip, giving it a squeeze like you did before the last game. The same blush as before rose in her cheeks. She works her way around you but your arms wrap around her waist not letting her go anywhere.
"Foul," she yells as you pick her up with her still holding the ball.
"This isn't a normal game babe," you say and she gets the hint. You put her down, still standing right behind her with your hands on her hips. "Take a shot," you whisper in her ear as your lips graze her neck.
Caitlin swallows and puts up the shot missing it.
"That's not fair," she says turning around.
"Better luck next time," you say bringing your hand to graze her cheek. Your eyes go from her eyes down to her lips as you lean in painfully slow.
Caitlin grabs your shirt and anticipates your lips on hers. When they never come, she pouts.
You run to grab the ball and pass it to her again.
"No bucket, no kiss," you say and you can see her demeanor change.
Caitlin locks in.
"Oh it's on," she says as she is ready for the one-on-one action.
AN: Here you go! Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
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luna-azzurra · 1 year ago
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What should Happen next in your Story? #Writersblock
1. Review Your Story Goals: Take a step back and remind yourself of your story's overall goals, themes, and the character arcs you've established. What message or emotions are you trying to convey? Reconnecting with your story's core can provide direction.
2. Character Development: Consider your characters' motivations, desires, and conflicts. Think about how their actions and decisions can further their development and the overall plot.
3. Conflict and Obstacles: Introduce new conflicts or obstacles that challenge your characters and move the story forward. Conflict is often a driving force in storytelling.
4. Foreshadowing: Look at earlier parts of your story for elements that can be developed or paid off in the next part. Foreshadowing can create anticipation and coherence in your narrative.
5. Brainstorm Ideas: Take a few minutes to brainstorm potential plot developments or scenarios, even if they seem far-fetched. Sometimes, these ideas can lead to more refined plot points.
6. Seek Inspiration: Read books, watch movies, or explore other art forms that inspire you. Inspiration often comes from exposure to different creative works.
7. Write Freely: Give yourself permission to write without judgment. You can always revise later. Sometimes, just getting words on the page can help you discover where your story is going.
8. Talk to Someone: Discuss your story with a friend, writing partner, or critique group. They may offer insights or ideas you haven't considered.
9. Change Perspective: Consider writing a scene from a different character's perspective or in a different setting. This can help you explore new angles and generate ideas.
10. Take a Break: Sometimes, a brief break from writing can provide clarity and fresh ideas. Go for a walk, engage in a different creative activity, or relax to clear your mind.
11. Read Writing Prompts: Look for writing prompts or exercises related to your genre or theme. These can spark new ideas and get your creative juices flowing.
12. Set a Deadline: Establish a reasonable deadline for yourself, even if it's self-imposed. The pressure of a deadline can help you focus and generate ideas.
13. Revisit Your Outline: If you have an outline, revisit it to see if you missed any planned plot points or if there are opportunities to add more depth.
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writingwithfolklore · 10 months ago
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How to Nail your School Essays
                Not to brag, but I’m kind of a big deal when it comes to essays at my school. Since I started highschool I haven’t received a grade less than 90% on an essay—so I’m here to share my secret. This works for the classic essay, but you can also use the same advice and fit it to formal reports or other academic writing.
1. Your essay is about 2 things, demonstrated 3 or more times
This is how I’ve always thought about essays. They’re about two ideas, demonstrated as many times as you need to fill the wordcount. Shakespeare + Feminism, Media + Truth versus Misconception, etc. etc. If you’re lucky, your teacher or prof will give you one of your elements. You’ll get assignments like, “write an essay about Hamlet” or “write an essay about the American dream” lucky you, that’s your first thing—now you need to connect it with another.
This connecting idea is my favourite part because you just get to choose a concept or idea you’re interested in. Here’s a tip, if your first/given topic is something concrete, choose an abstract connecting idea. If your given topic is something abstract, choose a concrete.
So, Hamlet (concrete) could be paired with any abstract concept: Loyalty, Truth, Feminism, etc.
However, if your prof gives you something like, “truth” or “race theory”, you’ll find it much easier to connect that with a more concrete thing, like a book, movie, or other piece of media, or even a specific person.
If you are luckiest, your prof will give you both things, “write about the American Dream in The Great Gatsby” in this case, you’re onto the next stage.
2. Stick to the formula
Tried, tested, true. Nothing wrong with a formula, especially not when it gives you A+ grades. Typical essay structure is:
Intro with thesis
2. 1st Body
2a. Evidence that proves it 1
2i. Justify its relevance
2b. Evidence that proves it 2
2ii. Justify its relevance
Etc.
3. 2nd Body
3a. Evidence that proves it
3i.Justification
Etc.
4. 3rd Body
4a. Rise and repeat, you know where this is going.
5. Some may argue…
6. Conclusion
Let’s break it down.
Thesis:
                Thesis completely outlines all your points, or the three+ places you’re demonstrating your connection, and why it matters.
                Here is an intro + thesis I wrote a couple years ago:
“This literature review will explore the impacts influencer marketing has on the children that regularly consume social media content. Specifically, this review will focus on how influencers can impact children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, and lastly, the influx of children taking advantage of this system and becoming influencers themselves.”
Or
“Burned discusses the human aspect of sex work and reverses reader’s expectations on sex workers, while Not in My Neighbourhood discusses prostitutes as victims of a system created against them. Both challenge readers’ perceptions of sex workers, effectively drawing attention to the ethics of displacing sex workers from their cities.”
                So you have your connection (children and social media)/(Burned and Not in My Neighbourhood and sex work), and the different ways you plan on exploring or proving that idea (children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, children becoming influencers.) etc.
                You may also have a more specific stance in your thesis. Such as, “In Macbeth, ambition is shown to be Macbeth’s ultimate downfall in these three ways.”
The Body Paragraphs
                You start out every body paragraph with the point of the paragraph, or what it’s aiming to prove. Such as, “Influencers often include advertisements within their content, which can encourage children to feel more amiably to certain brands their favourite content creators endorse frequently more than others.”
                After this claim, you spend the rest of the paragraph further proving it through examples. This will look like citing a specific source (a book, academic journal, quote, etc.) such as, “The authors claim likeable influencers can associate their likeability with the products they use, influencing children’s perception of brands, referred to as ‘meaning transfer’ (De Veirman et al. 2019)” (super important to always cite these sources!)
                The last part is after each example/proof--you need to justify why this proves your point/is important. So, “This proves children are more influenced towards certain products depending on how close of a relationship they perceive to have with the influencer.”
                Typically, your evidence will all lead into each other so you can transition to the next piece of proof, then the justification, rinse and repeat until you’re finished your paragraph. You can have as many pieces of evidence as you want per paragraph, and the longer your word requirement, the more you’ll want to fit into each point (or the more bodies you want to have.)
                Piece of evidence + why it matters, rinse and repeat.
Some May Argue:
                This is a small paragraph just before your conclusion where you anticipate an argument your readers may have, and disprove it. So, for example, you’d start with, “Some may argue that with parent supervision, the impacts of influencers on children could be lessened or moot. However…” and then explain why they’re wrong. This strengthens your argument, and proves that you’ve really thought out your stance.
Conclusion:
                Lastly, you want to sum up all the conclusions you came to in a few sentences. Your last line is one of the most important (in my opinion). I call it the mic drop moment. Leaving a lasting impact on your reader can bring your essay from an A to an A+, so you really want to nail this final sentence.
                My final sentence was, “Ultimately, it is hard to know in advance how technology and social media will impact the development of children who have always grown up with some form of screen, but until they grow up, parents and caregivers need to take care in the content their children consume, and their very possible exploitation online.”
This sentence is backed by the entirety of the essay that came before it, and usually leaves a little something to chew on for the readers.
Any other tips I missed?
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pumpkinpaix · 3 months ago
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You have questions! We might have answers.
What is this collection?
As Maria puts it: this collection is a critical look at some of the things that we, the editors, think have made CQL such a hit around the world. Of course, part of that success comes from the webnovel MDZS and the show CQL themselves—we love the characters, the mystery, and the drama, who doesn’t?! However, the authors in our book also look at topics like translating danmei (both officially and unofficially), adapting danmei for new audiences, and interacting with fandoms and fanworks. The larger argument of the book is that all of these things played a huge role in CQL’s visibility and success, and we wanted to start making those moving pieces visible, especially for audiences who mainly watched CQL in translation.
You keep using the word “academic”—what does that mean, exactly? 
Maria: Ok, not to get pedantic here, but this actually touches on some things that I’m really excited about for the book. Traditionally, academic work is written by people who have a deep expertise in the subject (signified by having a PhD and doing specific kinds of research), and then the work itself is peer-reviewed (i.e., sent to other experts in the field for them to evaluate whether it’s sound, original, and interesting enough to publish, without knowing who wrote it). And both of these things are true about our book—our authors have deep knowledge and the book was peer reviewed—but also. We specifically asked for chapters from younger scholars and from fans who also have deep knowledge about topics that academia doesn’t always know or value enough, and we include an interview from the fan-translator K. who did the Exiled Rebels translation. So the hope is that: this book is academic, and also—more!
Who are you? 
Yue studies adaptation, fantasy, and popular culture texts using a feminist lens. She wrote an early, influential article about danmei adaptations and also has a book about feminist adaptations of Chinese fantasy.
Maria studies fanworks, contemporary fantasy, and genre literature. She’s scrambling to finish her dissertation right now.
How were the chapter spotlights chosen?
Voluntarily! The concept of a small social media promo was kicked around by some of the contributors and those interested in the idea filled out a short interview with what they wanted to share. We'll be posting about 2 introductions and 2 spotlights a day for the next week or so!
Who's running this social media campaign anyway?
Not the publishers! A few enthusiastic collection contributors got together and, with the assistance of the editors, have put this promotion together. We do not in any way represent Peter Lang in an official capacity! We just worked hard and wanted to share. :)
Are you making any money off of royalties from this book? 
LOL not even remotely
What about this promotion?
also no. alas
Where can I find this book? 
You can find our listing on Peter Lang’s website here. As for other retailers, a quick search should turn us up!  
How can I access this book if I cannot buy it from Peter Lang / [book retailer of choice]?
As collection editors and contributors who signed a legal agreement with Peter Lang, we have granted Peter Lang exclusive right and license to edit, adapt, publish, reproduce, distribute, display, and store our contributions, and we must cooperate fully with the Publisher if the Publisher believes a third party is infringing or is likely to infringe copyright in the contribution. 
That being said, these are academic papers, which means that contributors may make copies of the contribution for classroom teaching use! (These copies may not be included in course pack material for onward sale by libraries and institutions). Of course, any linking, collection or aggregation of chapters from the same volume is strictly prohibited.
(FAQ may be updated periodically!) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)
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duyuforu · 30 days ago
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Pick-a-Card: Next Wish Granted for You
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₊ ⊹ ALLEGEDLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY₊ ⊹
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pile 1 -> pile 2
pile 3 -> pile 4
pick a coffee and scroll down to read your reading
pictures found on Tumblr
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READINGS BOOKING OPEN
email adress: [email protected]
Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews
astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings
support the creator: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee (tip) ⟡ tipeee
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Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
☕ Hi Pile 1! It seems like your next wish granted can be related to you wanting someone back in your life. There is someone you love, could be a friend, a lover, or just someone you love, or an opportunity, and you could have wished for it to come back, to get a reconciliation, or to just have it again. You could also want a call back for some of you, like if you had a job interview. Whatever this is, please take what resonates, it seems like you wished for something to be back to you. And it seems like this wish will be granted for you. You'll get what you wanted. Perhaps you have been thinking of it or wishing for it for some time now, so if you tried to manifest this, this might be happening finally. You could get your good karma back, and so this could be a way for the Universe to surprise you.
☕ Another thing I saw was for you to get more confident in yourself because of this wish. You could see that you are capable of doing good things and actually worth it. Your self confidence will be better after this wish being granted, and you'll accept yourself as you are more. You'll also accept things as they are. Perhaps before the wish is granted to you, you will let go of that you want, as you telling yourself "I want that, but I'll get whatever I deserve, because I accept the universe give me what is best for me". And bam, you'll get what you want because you let go. Perhaps you are learning how to detach from what you desire the most.
☕ I def see a strong theme here of something either you wanted for a long time, or something that was out of your life for some time. You could have wanted this person or this thing back for a while now. You worked hard for manifesting and this person or this thing will be back. But in order for that, you had to accept this would have not be back in your life, and that you would also have been fine this way. For a lot of you, this is a person that love and you could have been in no contact with them. You could have felt like you missed this person a lot. You could have been sad to be without them. But it does seem like they are coming back. You'll be so happy and thrilled to have this wish granted for you.
☕ If this is a romantic connection, this person could come back with an offer, a romantic and serious offer. You could def take it and not have a single doubt about this person. You'll feel very at home with them. If not a romantic connection, this could be work related and so have a contract and you'll have very good vibes about it. In any cases, I see a sort of partnership, and you having really good vibes and feeling like accepting this offer is good. Take as it resonates!
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
☕ Hi Pile 2! Your next wish granted for you can be related to a conversation being needed. A talk needed to happen to feel better afterwards. Perhaps you have been wanting to talk to someone or to talk about something specific, it can also be linked to art if it resonates with some of you. But you could have felt the need to express yourself on a certain topic or situation. If not, this can be someone who will come forward and speak to you about something or a certain situation. Whatever this is, this talk was needed and you'll feel 10 times better after that. It seems like whatever you'll talk about or learn, you'll be so much better, so much more confident, and you'll feel more happy in general. This talk will boost your self esteem.
☕ For some of you, you could have felt like a friend or someone around you was jealous, but you weren't sure. Someone could have envy you, there is someone that wanted what you had. You'll either talk about this feeling to this person or they will come forward to talk about it to you. This seems strange as a "wish granted" but this could have made you feel down or sad, you could have doubt yourself, or this is actually happening to make you realize how people admire and wish they could be like you. This could be happening to help you have a greater self esteem and boost your confidence.
☕ It seems like this talk will be between you and a friend. I see two Feminine energy here, and you love each other very much. I see love so even if it's someone you know or a friend, this person doesn't have bad intentions, they may just feel naturally some jealousy or there could be a conflict with a friend. One of the two feminine energy is hard working and is patient, while the other can be cold at times, and could be careful with who they trust. There is a true friendship here. This friendship could have been good in the past.
☕ The strongest theme for this pile is communication and the act of talking. you'll def have a talk with this person, and you could set things straight. The conversation will go well, I don't see a fight happening. You'll talk a lot and learn new things, perhaps how this person view you. It will feel good, you'll feel really good after this talk. Moreover, you and this person will become closer after this talk. You could feel very thankful that this happened.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
☕ Hi Pile 3! For this pile, I see that the next wish granted for you may be related to foreign lands, a foreigner, perhaps a man who is a foreigner. This person who has a more masculine energy, can come forward to you. I have no idea if you already met them or not, but this person may have strong and serious intentions with you. If your wish was love related, it seems like your next wish granted will be about your romantic relationships. This masculine energy is calm, collected, they can be serious and sure of themselves. They have an energy to know what they want and to not mess around. They will be honest with you. They have a strong desire for you, they want to build something long term with you as well. If you knew this person, this person can come back to tell you their truth or some truth. I also see this person to want to heal you, to help you and to build a life with you. They may want to get married and have a family with you.
☕ I def see if you already know this person or if this is a person from the past, they could come back and offer you real commitment. You could have felt like the distance or the no contact situation was never going to end, that it was the end between you two but cards are saying that this person is coming back with an offer. They love you and want to be with you. They will contact you soon. If you do not want someone from the past, then you could have felt like love isn't worth it, you could have felt like you are better alone. But a person with a masculine energy is here to prove you wrong, and here to love tou, to make you their empress, their queen. This person, whoever this is , is a soulmate.
☕ I also see for some of you you could be working harde lately, and if you wanted to see some results for your hard work, you will very soon! Perhaps money will come your way, a good amount and you'll feel so happy about it. You'll feel stable soon with your finances and things could get better financially. You could feel like you worked so hard you deserve it, and you do!
☕ Coming back from this masculine energy wanting to be with you, it's perhaps gonna take some time for you two to be good together, perhaps it's because you need time to trust this person. But you'll see that it's okay, and this person will not want to rush you. I also see you'll very very safe and good with this person. You'll feel like finally you found your happiness. For some of you, this could be a sign of meeting your Future Spouse.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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Pile 4 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
☕ Hi Pile 4! Your next wish granted could be related to you facing something you are scared to face. This could be related to you being afraid to fail or to disappoint, you could have a certain fear this way. You could be scared to disappoint people you love or specially your family or a family member. You could actually have a talk with someone you are scared to disappoint even with just your life choices. You and this person could talk eventually about it, and they could say to you something really precious. They could reassure you, and tell you that, in fact, they will never be disappointed in you and will always support you. You could want to move out or to feel free in certain decision but you could be scared on how this person will react. You could talk about it with this person and be surprised by how supportive they will be with you.
☕ If you want to know more about who this person could be, I see a feminine energy, earth signs more possible for this person. This person could be a mother figure for you, so your mother, big sister, or someone you care like a mother. You can feel very close to this person and you could love them very much. You are strongly linked to them, you can even look up to them, admire them. You love them so much you may be scared to disappoint them. Indeed you fear you and them have a fight or argument and that you'll stop talking or being in each other's life. You don't want to be in cold with them.
☕ You and this person will eventually have a discussion. I see some kind of opportunity that already presented to you or will in the future. You'll feel like this is a big chance for you to take it but you are scared of how this person will react. This can be about them not liking that you'll leave, or them not agreeing with this project or opportunity, or thinking they will be mad about it. Though, everything I just said are things you are afraid this person will think. I sense a def big opportunity or something you are happy about, and for some this could be about a relationship, a person you want to be with and you are scared this person will not approve.
☕ Though, you'll learn by talking about it with this person that those were just fears and not reality. Actually when talking about it to this person, you'll be very brave, and you'll express your desire for this opportunity as something will will fight for and not give up, even if they would disapprove. And this person could be quite loving, understanding, and reassuring you about it. They could tell you they will love you and always support you. You'll feel blessed and good. All your anxiety will disappear. You'll move towards this opportunity freely and with no regrets.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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back to index ; ask ; requests
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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago
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Part 4: Warning Bells
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)
(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)
Words: 6.1K
TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce
A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3
March 2033 
Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team. 
It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face. 
The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up. 
That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.
“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”
“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up. 
“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”
“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”
Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”
“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back. 
Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again. 
Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too. 
She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her. 
“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”
“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”
“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes. 
“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”
“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.
“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”
“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”
Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”
“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.
“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.
“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”
And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.
It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again. 
“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs. 
It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away. 
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”
Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”
And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen, 
“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”
Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend. 
“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”
“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.
“Welcome home.”
***
Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence. 
“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”
“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond. 
“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way. 
“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening. 
“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously. 
“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”
“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly. 
“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. 
Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”
“Oh you absolutely are.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”
They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”
“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana. 
“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.
Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”
“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps. 
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath. 
“Hey-”
Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that. 
“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”
“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”
“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately. 
“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips. 
The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”
Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”
“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.
She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is. 
“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”
“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”
Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”
“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”
Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours. 
“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”
“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look. 
“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends. 
“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”
“I’m not pay-”
“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”
“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”
Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”
The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage. 
“You coming Azzi?”
“Mama, are you coming?”
I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them. 
“Of course I’m coming.”
***
Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her. 
“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”
Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger. 
“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”
“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said. 
“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly. 
Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”
“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”
The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again. 
“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly. 
She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore. 
Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate. 
“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple. 
“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”
“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did. 
“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her. 
“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh. 
“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”
“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly. 
“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.
“Don’t you dare-” 
“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”
“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender. 
“You started it.”
“Yeah Mama, you started it.”
“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever. 
“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist. 
“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.
“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel. 
Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”
“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows. 
“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”
***
Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames. 
So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”
“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother. 
“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her. 
Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”
Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”
“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.
“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”
Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them. 
“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently. 
“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”
The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”
Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”
“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands. 
“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch. 
“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”
“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”
“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”
***
Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be.  That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort. 
Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas. 
“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”
It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.
“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them. 
Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”
And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt. 
“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults. 
Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”
“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side. 
“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other. 
“Perfect.”
And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years. 
***
Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe. 
The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this. 
“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”
“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”
“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige. 
“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"
Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”
“Steph-”
“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”
Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”
“Azzi-”
“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes. 
“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay. 
“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”
“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake. 
“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”
“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly. 
“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”
“Az-”
“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”
Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”
“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”
“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”
Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”
“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”
“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away. 
It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.
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uyuforu · 4 months ago
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Why your Birthday is your Personal New Year
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Your Birthday's Significance
Your birthday mark the day you were born (duh), but it's more than just a day we celebrate the day you were born. It marks the day you came into this world. As we know, in Astrology, we calculate our birth chart/ natal chart based on the exact moment you were born. It will ten create a map, with planets, asteroids, placements, and houses based on a rising, and specific degrees represents the specific placements of planets the minute you came into this world, and this detail makes you very unique. In this case, your birthday isn't just a celebration, it's also your personal new year. While humanity celebrate it as a group of individual on a certain date (depending on the culture), you as an individual will celebrate it on the day you were born. You are growing one year older, with one year full of new achievements and new events coming into your life. Let's see what can help you see those!
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Your Solar Return Chart
જ⁀➴ Calculate your Solar Return here.
Free Horoscopes > Horoscopes Drawings & Data > Extended Chart Selection > Chart Type: Solar Return Chart
Your Solar Return Chart (SRC) is an Astrological tool that enables you to see what will most likely happen to you during your next year. As it is said, it is your Solar Return, so your Sun's return. Based on your natal sun, on the exact degree, SRC is calculated based on when the Sun will return on the same sign with the exact same degree. You'll see in each SRC, your Sun is in the same sign and degree as your Natal Sun. Only the house will change if you have different risings in your SRC over the years.
This means that each year, on your birthday, or the day before your birthday sometimes, you'll pass through another SRC, and have a view on what will most likely happen to you. You can also use this technique to check previous SRC and understand some life events better. Checking our SRC is a way to see that every years of our life, we achieve and change, and transform, as we are meant to evolve with time.
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Annual Profections
જ⁀➴ Calculate your Annual Profections here.
Annual Profections are based also on Astrology, and mostly on our ages and houses. Basically, this tool explains that depending on which age (and so birthdays) we are, we embody a certain house that year. For example, when you will turn 25, you'll embody the 2H more. It usually means you'll probably be more focus on savings, money, perhaps making more money this year, or also changing the way you manage your money, etc. Each House has a different meaning. Of course, this doesn't mean you will need to wait to be on a certain house to do something. It just means as an individual, those houses will represent your more intern focus. And it may actually go naturally, without you need to force anything. Life is most likely to put you through certain transformations based on the houses' themes.
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Numerology's Personal Year
This isn't a subject I know very well, I just have some base. So if you are interested in it, I suggest checking more on Tumblr or the Internet. An account that has more knowledge is @lilithsrealm. I suggest checking their account!
Numerology is a great tool too to check on your birthday. Just as with SRC and Annual Profections, Numerology can also tell you in what phase you'll enter this "new year". You'll need to take your birth day, birth month, and the current year of your birthday, add all of those numbers together, and then get a number that will be the total of all of those, and this will be your personal year number!
Example: I was born on August 6th, so 8 / 6. And this is the year 2024. So I'll calculate 8 + 6 + 2 + 0 + 2 + 4. All together this makes 22, so it's my personal year number this year. So, specific case, but 22 is a master number, so in this case we don't really add it together again. But if you end up with any other number than 10/ 11/ 22 or 33, then you add it together. Even if mine is 22, the 4 energy will still be there, but 22 is important. I say 4 because 2+2=4 (lol).
Every year, on your birthday, your personal year number change, indicating you'll go through another cycle of your life. Each numbers mean something specific, so I suggest making more researches after finding out yours!
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Destiny Matrix
જ⁀➴ Calculate your Destiny Matrix Chart here.
જ⁀➴ Destiny Matrix Romance Numbers
Destiny Matrix is an Esoteric tool that explores the 22 Arcana's of the Tarot to see a different approach of yourself and your life, as a Chart, similar to Astrology. It's a tool that also enable you to develop your full potential as an individual. Numbers and Chakras are used instead of signs, houses and degrees. Numbers on the Chart will go from 1 to 22, representing each Tarot's 22 Major Arcanas. Colored Numbers are your main energies, they are also great tools to understand your true potential and why you came into this life, but also past life, desires, and your soul's purpose. On each sides of the chart, you'll see your different ages, representing different eras of your life. And above those different ages, you'll see a number, between 1 to 22.
Different ages then represent different birthdays. And the numbers above those age represents the different energies, based on the Tarot's Major Arcanas. It will represent the energy of those specific years, and not only in a specific area, but as a whole. For example, I have 8 this year, so this can represent entering legal matters with someone, for example, a wedding, or a contract with a society. It can also mean being more mature and taking more responsible choices. It's also closing a karmic cycle, etc.
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anniebeemine · 4 months ago
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omg omg omg pls can we have a part 2 to baby fever! Like we tell the team!
It’s a little longer than I anticipated but I can definitely do that!
It was a quiet afternoon at the BAU when you received a text from JJ, who was still on maternity leave after the birth of her son, Michael.
Thought I’d bring the little guy to visit the team. Be there in 20.
A smile spread across your face as you read the message. You quickly shared the news with Spencer, who was reviewing some files at his desk. “JJ’s bringing Michael in for a visit today.”
Spencer looked up, a rare, warm smile gracing his features. “That’s great. I’ve missed having her around.”
Twenty minutes later, you heard the unmistakable sound of baby coos echoing through the bullpen. You and Spencer exchanged excited glances and made your way to the entrance, where you found JJ cradling Michael in her arms. The team began to gather around her, everyone eager to see the newest member of the BAU family.
“Look who I brought!” JJ announced, beaming as she gently rocked Michael.
Penelope was the first to rush over, her eyes shining with excitement. “Oh, JJ! He’s gotten so big!” She reached out, her hands fluttering excitedly as she looked at the baby with adoration. “Can I hold him?”
JJ laughed, carefully handing Michael over to Penelope, who took him as if he were made of the most precious glass. “Of course you can. He loves to be held.”
Morgan sidled up next to Penelope, his usual swagger softened by the presence of the little one. “Hey, little man,” he cooed, lightly tickling Michael’s chin. “You’re gonna be a heartbreaker, aren’t you?”
As everyone gathered around, taking turns holding Michael and chatting with JJ, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anticipation in your chest. You and Spencer had been quietly planning your own family, and seeing JJ with Michael made that dream feel even more real.
You were holding Michael when you were left alone with JJ. She smiled at you, sensing something in the air. “Thinking about joining the club?” She asked.
“We’ve been,” you paused to search for the right word, “trying.” You cringed, always hating the term but how else do you mildly say Spencer had been stuffing you like a pastry every night for the past two weeks.
JJ chuckled. “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”
You ran the pad of your index finger down Michael’s nose. He nuzzled into the warmth offered by your chest. “If you want, I can take him and bring him back when it’s time to pay for college.”
She laughed loudly. “I say go for it, but I’m not sure about Will.”
You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Michael’s forehead. “I think I’ll start with a few more practice runs before I take on the full job.”
JJ grinned, leaning in a little closer. “You’ve got this. Besides, you’ve already got Spencer wrapped around your finger. Imagine how he’ll be with a baby.”
You laughed, the thought of Spencer doting over a baby melting your heart. “He’ll probably read every parenting book known to man, twice.”
JJ nodded in agreement. “And quote them word for word.”
The two of you shared a knowing look before Michael let out a tiny yawn, reminding you both just how sweet this new chapter could be. You handed off Michael to JJ as Penelope returned to with a warm bottle.
Later that day, after wrapping up some paperwork, you and Spencer exchanged a glance. It was time. Spencer squeezed your hand as you both walked toward Hotch’s office, nerves and excitement bubbling up in equal measure.
Spencer knocked softly on the door, and Hotch looked up from his desk. “Come in.”
You stepped inside, Spencer right behind you. Hotch’s brow furrowed slightly as he noticed your hesitant smiles. “Is everything okay?”
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Hotch, we wanted to talk to you about something important.” You glanced at Spencer, who was practically vibrating with energy beside you.
“We’re planning on starting a family,” you said, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Spencer couldn’t contain himself. “Soon!” he blurted out, his face lighting up.
Hotch’s serious expression softened instantly, a rare smile spreading across his face. He stood up from behind his desk and walked over to you both. “That’s wonderful news.”
Before you knew it, Hotch had wrapped both of you in a warm hug.“Congratulations,” he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “You’re going to make incredible parents.”
Spencer’s arms tightened around you as Hotch stepped back, a grin on his face. “Thank you, Hotch,” Spencer said, his eyes shining with excitement. “We’re really excited.”
Hotch nodded, a proud and almost fatherly expression on his face. “I’m happy for you both. And don’t worry, we’ll make sure to support you every step of the way.”
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of passion, anticipation, and a bit of chaos. Nights were filled with eager attempts to conceive, the room often filled with laughter and whispered reassurances between you and Spencer. The connection between you grew stronger, fueled by the shared excitement of what might come.
But it wasn’t just about those intimate moments. Spencer, true to form, buried himself in research, combing through books and articles on fertility and conception. He eagerly shared his findings with you, from scientifically-backed tips to more unconventional methods. You couldn’t help but laugh when he brought up trying different positions or timing based on your body’s natural rhythms. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself more invested in the process than you ever imagined.
One evening, after yet another round of passionate effort, Spencer surprised you by pulling out a list of old wives' tales he’d discovered in his research. “Did you know that some people swear by eating pineapple or even keeping your feet warm after...?” he said, eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
You rolled your eyes playfully but agreed to give some of them a try. You both found yourselves experimenting with all sorts of little rituals—drinking pomegranate juice, trying specific positions, even propping up your legs afterward as you laughed together at the absurdity of it all.
“When can I stop?” You asked, your head grazing the floor as you sat upside down on the couch, knees draped over the back. He’d placed a pair of socks on your feet earlier.
Spencer, who was sitting nearby with a book in hand, glanced over at you with a small smile. “Just a few more minutes,” he said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.
You groaned, tilting your head to look at him. “You know this is ridiculous, right?”
He chuckled softly, closing his book and setting it aside. “Maybe, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Besides,” he added, moving to sit beside you on the floor, “I think it’s kind of fun.”
You gave him a playful glare, though it was hard to maintain with the blood rushing to your head. “Fun for you, maybe. I’m the one upside down.”
Spencer leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Think of it as a bonding exercise.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “If this works, I’m making you do it next time.”
He grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Deal.”
A couple of weeks later, the routine of trying, waiting, and hoping had become almost second nature. You had gone in for some routine blood work, not expecting much—just the usual check-up to make sure everything was on track. Spencer had insisted on coming with you, ever the supportive partner.
The nurse had drawn your blood, made small talk, and promised to call with the results in a day or two. It felt like a formality at this point. You and Spencer had become pros at managing expectations, keeping things light despite the heavy anticipation that lingered between you both.
But then the call came.
You were at work, finishing up some paperwork, when your phone buzzed. Seeing the clinic’s number, your heart skipped a beat. With slightly shaky hands, you answered.
“Hi, this is Y/N.”
“Hi, Y/N, this is Nurse Williams from Dr. Peters’ office. I just wanted to let you know that we got your blood work back.”
You held your breath, glancing at Spencer across the room. He was deeply focused on something at his desk, but as if sensing your gaze, he looked up, his eyes narrowing in concern.
“And?” you prompted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Well, everything looks good… and I’m pleased to tell you that it looks like you’re pregnant! It’s very early, but the levels are definitely there.”
You froze, the world around you seeming to still. “Wait, really? I’m… I’m pregnant?” You stood up abruptly, grazing Spencer’s shoulder as you rushed to the conference room for privacy.
“Yes, congratulations! We’ll want to see you again soon to monitor things, but it’s definitely looking positive.”
You barely managed to thank her before ending the call, your hand trembling as you lowered the phone. Spencer was up and across the room in an instant, his eyes filled with concern. “What is it? What did they say?” He asked as he shut the door behind him.
You blinked up at him, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to speak. Finally, you managed a smile, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. “Spence… we’re pregnant. It worked. I’m really early on, but… we’re having a baby.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, the words sinking in. Then, his face broke into the widest grin you’d ever seen, and without hesitation, he wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground as he spun you around. “We’re having a baby!” he exclaimed, laughter and tears mingling in his voice.
You clung to him, both of you laughing and crying as the reality of it all settled in. After everything—the anxious waiting, the ups and downs—it was finally happening. You were going to be parents.
Spencer set you down gently, his hands cupping your face as he looked at you with pure adoration. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, kissing you softly. “I can’t believe it… we’re really going to be parents.”
You nodded, tears still streaming down your face. “We are,” you whispered back, feeling a warmth and happiness that you’d never known before.
For a long moment, you just held each other, soaking in the joy of this new beginning. Then, Spencer pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “We have to tell the team.”
You laughed, nodding in agreement. “But first, let’s just enjoy this moment… just us.”
Spencer smiled, kissing you again, more tenderly this time. “Just us,” he agreed, his hands resting gently on your still-flat stomach, already protective of the life growing inside.
The first trimester had been a mix of excitement, nausea, and fatigue, but as it came to an end, the secret you and Spencer had been keeping became harder and harder to contain. You were both eager to share the news with the team, the people who had become your family over the years.
You’d just wrapped up a tough case, and everyone was exhausted. The jet ride back had been quiet, with most of the team catching up on much-needed rest. Even Spencer had dozed off for a bit, his hand resting protectively over yours the entire time.
Back at the BAU, as the team filed out of the jet and started to wrap up for the day, you exchanged a glance with Spencer. He nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. It was time.
Taking a deep breath, you turned to the group. “Hey, everyone, before you head out, can you meet us in the conference room for a minute? We have something we’d like to share.”
There were curious glances all around, but no one questioned it. They all followed you and Spencer to the conference room. As they entered, they were greeted by the sight of a small cake with candles on the table, and next to it, a framed sonogram image.
Penelope was the first to notice, her eyes widening behind her colorful glasses. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth.
Morgan, standing beside her, looked between you and Spencer, a grin spreading across his face. “Are you two…?”
Spencer smiled, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “We’re having a baby.”
The room erupted in cheers and congratulations. Emily clapped her hands together, her face lit up with a huge smile. JJ immediately pulled you into a tight hug, tears of happiness in her eyes. Hotch and Rossi both stepped forward to shake Spencer’s hand, with Rossi giving him a fatherly pat on the back.
Penelope couldn’t stop bouncing on her toes. “This is the best news ever! We need to celebrate!”
You laughed, feeling overwhelmed with joy as you looked around the room at your team—your family. “That’s what the cake is for,” you said, smiling as you gestured to it. “We wanted to tell you all together.”
Hotch, who rarely showed much emotion, smiled warmly as he looked at the sonogram. “Congratulations, both of you. This is wonderful news.”
Spencer wrapped an arm around you, his face glowing with pride and happiness. “We’re really excited,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And we’re so glad to share this moment with all of you.”
As everyone gathered around the table, the candles on the cake were lit, and for a moment, you just stood there, taking it all in—the warmth, the love, the sense of family that surrounded you. Spencer leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. “We did it,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder.
You turned to him, your eyes shining. “We did,” you whispered back, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you and the little life you were about to bring into the world.
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gildedkrone · 1 year ago
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I'm the boy next door, let me come in🔞
Part 2 to this fic
Relationships: Ghost x verse!Male Reader Synopsis: You meet him years later and he still can't forget you. Master List
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Simon doesn't text back anymore. You aren't so much surprised as disappointed to know it would end this way. He has a wife to go home to, and your next client wouldn't wait for you to get over the very one-sided heartbreak.
The chat ended on a single message from Simon.
["Take care, luv. Hope this helps you with your dream."]
A transfer of ten thousand pounds into your bank account. You don't want to know how he acquired said information, given he is a military man, you wouldn't put it pass him to have used his clearence to search you up. Would it have killed him to do it in person? No. But anything, is better than nothing from a man you should have never gotten attached to.
It's a bittersweet end and the end of your "relationship" with the man.
---
A cigarette between his lips and his moment of peace was interrupted by his secretary entering his office after two knocks.
"Mr Riley, you have an upcoming meeting at two with the Mr Decartes, should I arrange for him to wait in the conference room?"
He flicks two fingers (yes) and snuffs out the cigarette. The Riley family always had a name in the military business, and the newly retired lieutenant returned home to Manchester to hold the reins to his family empire. Post military life is mundane, he supposed. There's no threat of being knived or shot when out bumbling about the streets of the city and most people give him a wide berth of space, if nothing but fear of his size. The skull mask is gone, replaced by a simple black mask concealing the bottom part of his face.
---
The train to Edinburgh is packed to the brim and per his request, the entire business coach is booked out to give him some semblance of privacy. The online meeting is rotting his brain with the incessant business partners and their multitude of requests. Eventually, the meeting ends not before the train is slowing to stop.
"Dear ladies and gentlemen, due to a railway signalling fault, we are unable to proceed to Edinburgh and the train will be stopping at Carlisle. Please speak to a train attendant if you have questions about transfers and continuing your journey."
Fuckin' hell and now even the train is conspiring against him. The attendant is apologetic and informs him of his choices. Return to Manchester on the train in three hours or wait for an unspecified time for the next train to Edinburgh. Either way, he isn't reaching his destination within the same day.
---
He has hours to burn, and he begins with getting coffee. Carlisle isn't a big city and he spends some time walking about the place and looking at things. Whatever British people did for fun. His mindless walk brings him to a flower shop and before his mind could object, he was pushing past the doors and the sweet chime into the cool and empty shop. There is nobody at the counter and he rings the bell.
"Coming!"
Sounds of shuffling as a man returns from the rear of the shop and you stop behind the counter.
"Hey, is there anything I can do for you?" You flash him a smile and he is taken back by the sight. It's the man he's had a fling with five years ago but there is no recognition in your eyes. Was it the mask?
"I'm looking for something for a business deal."
"Oh, do you know what arrangement you would like?" He looks confused and you continue. "We can make it in different sizes and shapes if you have any in mind?"
"Not really. Do you have pictures?"
"Sure do." You grab the folder of pictures and flipped to the business section. When you looked up, the man has an unfathomable look on his face. He takes his time reviewing through the photos and asks several questions about the shop. How did it come to be etc. You tell him about the ten thousand dollars a man left for you once and he knows, confirms it is you.
"So I moved from London up north here to settle down and open my shop. Business is doing well and I've just received a giant order for a wedding. Might need to hire some people to help me out there."
He doesn't know what his traitorous mind was on when he mouth blurts out how willing he is to help. He is dressed in some formal attire and clearly not a contract worker but he is insistent, so you relent and tell him to meet you after dinner. Especially knowing how difficult and costly it is to hire rush work.
---
Edinburgh is the last thing on his mind when he shows up to your shop at eight in the evening. He opted for a large hoodie and some sweats and you usher him into the back of the store where the greenhouse is. His mask is still on and the hoodie is drawn over his head and you crack a joke about dressing correctly since it's cold in the greenhouse.
You make the first of many bouqets and he examines the shape and quantity of flowers in it. The silence is amiable and the man is a fast worker. Precise and controlled, his first bouqet is beautiful and well made. You disappeared into greenhouse to get more flowers and he follows you back in. Midway through the gathering of some flowers and he speaks.
"You don't remember me."
You give him a puzzled look and set the flowers back down. Did you know him?
He sighs and pulls back his hoodie and removes the mask on his face. It's him. It's Simon.
---
"What are you doing here, Simon?"
He sips his coffee and the both of you are seated behind the counter.
"The train broke down and 'm was exploring the city. Stumbled upon your shop and …"
"Are you no longer in the military?"
"Left the job. Had to go home and run the business."
He is still an absolute looker even five years later and his fingers gently brush against yours where it stays.
"Simon, your wife--"
"We're divorced. She's no longer my wife." He elaborates something along the lines of a falling out between the two families over business.
"Oh."
His hands are rough and calloused, and they hold yours.
"It wasn't a possibility then, but … I--"
"Simon, we can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Did you really love me? We had a fling, not a real relationship. I am past the age of flings and I want a real relationship."
"I can give yer that. Only if you would let me."
"Si--" And the rest of the sentence was stolen by his lips against yours. He is insistent and all of the walls you imagined comes crashing down at the taste of him and the hand on your thigh.
"Luv, fuck, missed yer fuckin' lips." And your moan is breathy as his touch crept up your thighs.
---
You weren't sure how it happened, but the kiss ends with you and him in the greenhouse and his hands in your pants. He is pleasure incarnate and his hands move with an urgency to feel you. They roam across expanses of skin before digging into flesh and unbuttoning your jeans. Your mind is drunk on the pleasure and your dick is aching to be touched, with the way it bobs up and down.
The touches are something clandestine, and you used to be his illicit affairs. Now, you are his partner? Lover? The definition is irrelevant as he turns you around to face him before pushing you into the wall. His dick is freed from his joggers where they tented the garment obscenely and he hands rest at your hips.
"If yer asking how serious I am, 'm fuckin' serious about this." The whispers of past encounters are strong and he gives your dick a few strokes before he hugs you tight and your dick pokes against his ass.
"Fuck, Simon, you sure about this?" His response is a sloppy kiss and a muffled yes.
"Have you done this--"
"Nobody. There's nobody after you." Fuck, if that doesn't send your desires higher to know he saved himself for you all these years.
You finger him gently to loosen his rear and gently slide into him until he is moaning and spasming around your dick. He is impatient and tugs your hand but you refuse to fully bottom out, knowing this is likely foreign to him and unwilling to hurt him. Tight, warm heat hungrily swallows your length and you fight off the urge to slam your hips into him—to show him who controls his pleasure. Gruff and gravelly moans get louder with each thrust and with eyes lidded in pleasure, he takes dick so beautifully and you reward him with kisses and bites to his neck. He chokes at the feeling of skin breaking when you leave a hickey. The sudden imagery of domming him and making him beg to cum is fire in your veins and you slow your thrusts.
"C'mon, fuck, yer heathen, stop teasin'." He gets another kiss and he whines.
The great Simon whining like a pup and trying to get himself off on your dick after years of abstinence is making your head all muddy. His hips squirm and he grumbles when you pull out of him only to turn him around to face the wall. The smack of his hands against the wall is loud when you enter him without warning and he is practically clawing at the walls to remain standing under the onslaught of pleasure.
"Fuck, not gonna last if you keep doin' this," and true to his word, his greedy hole tightens around you as he tipped his head back into a moan. Your hand guides him through his orgasm as the wall is coated with pent up ball batter and you are finishing in him with a whine and whimper.
He felt as divine as ever, even when he is below you and twitching from the aftershocks of an orgasm. Mercifully, he doesn't fight your attempts to clean him up even if a clench of his core meant more of your cum is dripping down his thighs. Your dick jumps at the creamy sight but Simon is fully sated and you are content to wait.
Here in the shop, everything feels right. Hearts aligned in a bow drawn taut towards love are yours and his.
---
"Simon, the dog is fighting the mailman again."
"Fuckin', luvvie, its your decision to get a dog."
"You didn't say no when we were at the shelter."
He groans when you shift on his lap while keeping him warm and cozy as the dick in your ass pokes against your prostate. Pre spills from your dick and he swipes a finger through the milky substance for a taste.
"This is, all your damn fault," you choke out between pants when his dick juts into further into you.
"Can't blame a man for wantin' more, sweetheart. Now sing for me," and those hips are determined to be the death of you. Ah, the joy of pleasure and to die from it, you think you could die happy in the lap of your man.
Raspy growls and a man possessed to chase and seek pleasure after years of draught is a dangerous combination. Your head rests against his shoulder amdist thrusts jostling your body.
"Fuck it, he can deal with that damned dog while I make you cum, darling."
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lilacstro · 6 months ago
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my thoughts on astrology and how to use it
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★BOOK A PAID READING ★Support me on KO-FI ★paid reviews masterlist ★frequently asked questions!!
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Checking the overall composition of planet and elements in your birth chart (+ finding the dominant planet and elements)
Relocation chart tutorial
Astrocartography chart tutorial
Asteroid persona Chart tutorial
Nine Persona Chart tutorial
Planet persona chart tutorial
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Part 1.
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
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Skin health in astrology
Career astrology
your birthday and Profection years
what life tips i learnt from astrologers i have met
electional astrology: social media charts
essential dignity and debility in astrology
sects in astrology
understanding draconic charts
natal transits through your entire life
antiscia and contra anstiscia in astrology
astrocartography and relocation charts
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what could end your relationship through your venus sign
manifesting through your jupiter sign
part of fortune and what can be fated in your life
understanding your relationship to astrology and its impacts
your moon sign and your relationship to your mother
lilith in a man's chart
how do people perceive me (persona charts edition)
my personal opinions on your big 3
what can your birth time say for you through chinese astrology
My suggestions on where to get tattoo through astrology
the ruler of 11th through the houses and what are you admired for
relationship advice for your rising sign
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the ruler of 3rd and your high school years
the ruler of 2nd through the houses and how you handle finances
the ruler of 11th through the houses and what are you admired for
ruler of 1st through the houses: how you may like to dress and present yourself
ruler of 7th through the houses: personality of your future spouse
ruler of 5th through the houses: your dating style and love language
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Moon through the houses and shadow work
Pluto through the houses and what you are obsessed over about
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channeled messages from someone
what do you need to know about this separation/no contact
messages from universe
what do your tumblr followers think about your blog
who is thinking about you?
how can you embrace your main character energy
where is this crush heading?
what next big thing is coming for you
messages for collective
random messages (timeless)
who has a crush on you
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Moon square Mars
Jupiter sextile Uranus
Pluto conjunct asteroid Hekate
Pluto in 12th house
moon in 8th house
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academia (829) in aries
academia (829) in virgo
asteroid bella in 8h
Chiron in 12th house SR
asteroid ops (2736)
Jupiter sextile Uranus
Pluto conjunct asteroid Hekate
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Neville Goddard
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what are divisional charts
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The first letter of your name, and your first impression
Destiny Matrix
©lilacstro all rights reserved, please DO NOT copy, rephrase or plagiarize without my permission on any platforms whatsoever to avoid the copyright strikes and other resulting consequences.
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