#sorry if the text placement is weird i had to do it all on a separate program lol

[dawnsies]

this is how i imagine giorno being in part 3 would go tbh

bonus:

[sagescented]

(@thebumblingbee, you're going to lose your mind, I think!)

Soooo we finally (after 5 whole days) got some kind of communication back from the original rescue we were trying to adopt from.

Did they respond to our questions about the Puppy we were trying to adopt? No. Did they respond to the question about the meet and greet events they were hosting this week, and whether or not the Puppy we were interested in would be available at either event, and if we could meet her there to take pressure off her Foster? Nope.

So what did they respond to, you may ask? Oh ... Just the email I sent them today, after the new Rescue got back to us within an hour, telling them we've decided to go with another Rescue specifically because of their non-communicativeness with us throughout this entire process (and to take us off their list of Adopters / contact list as a result).

Oh the irony.

Their excuse? "We're a 100% volunteer run Rescue" (so is the new one we're going through- and, like, the vast majority of Rescues!). "We have lives and families and jobs" (so does everyone else on the planet, but I'd love to hear someone tell other Rescues this means they can neglect their basic Rescue duties!) ... But the real kicker: "We did try to contact you twice by text the day your application was accepted. It's not our fault you provided a number that couldn't receive texts, or provided an incorrect number" (paraphrased).

Hold up, what? We never got any texts from anyone. What do you mean "someone tried to contact you twice on the day your application was approved"?

Double checked both numbers we gave them on the application. Yep, they're correct ... Double checked the phone number I gave them at the bottom of every email I've sent them, starting from 2 days prior to filling out the application. Yep. Still correct ... We definitely didn't give them "an incorrect phone number"- and both are cellphones, so they're definitely capable of receiving texts.

We didn't get any communication from you.

Oh ... Wait ... You mean this single incredibly sketchy looking spam text that my Husband received from a Colorado number with a download and absolutely no other information attached to it ????? Yep, turns out apparently that was it. And we had to bite the bullet and download the document, trusting it wasn't some kind of a virus, in order to find out!

This is the only way they've attempted to contact us at any point at all, and there was never any possible way to know that this was even them. Not only because why on Earth would we expect it to be over text- but why would we expect said communication to come from a Colorado number, when we live in Oklahoma? And also because they texted us a whole download with photos, and never anything else of any kind ... Please make it make any kind of sense at all!

What does it say, though? Don't worry. It says "sorry, the dog you wanted is unavailable. But we have this other puppy!" ... You know ... After I blatantly said "no we are not interested in any efforts to pair us with a different dog" on the (9 page long) application, where they explicitly ask you whether or not you would be interested in alternative placement options, if the dog you applied for wasn't available anymore.

So ... Not only did they only try to contact us on one single day, by their own admission ... They did so in the absolute sketchiest manner possible ... They also didn't even remotely think "hmm, it's really weird this couple that's been communicative with us via email hasn't responded to the (supposedly) 2 attempts we've made to text them. Maybe we should try to call or email them instead" ... But then they apparently don't even read their own applications, and can't respect the wishes of their prospective Adopters recorded on said applications. On top of the only emails you can get from them being Karen-like responses to any criticisms of how unprofessionally and poorly they run their Rescue.

Oh but "each volunteer has a different job so even if you see someone posting on Facebook it doesn't mean the same person's job is to be contacting you". But apparently your online volunteers can't even keep properly updated profiles online, either. So you mean your whole staff is ultimately just tripping around and dropping balls everywhere.

Wait, sorry, I forgot, though: Y'all have "lives and families" and "are 100% volunteer run". And apparently that means we (your clients / customers) can't expect proper professionalism, legitimate commitment to what you claim is your cause, accurate recordkeeping, respect for preferences listed on applications, or timely and consistent communication by reasonable methods. My bad.

Anyways, don't bother trying to adopt an animal from 405 Animal Rescue in Oklahoma. I have literally never encountered such a poorly and unprofessionally run Rescue in my entire life.

[neurotypical-sonic]

(Hello, sorry if this sounds weird/rude, idk how to phrase this sentences tbh)

I really want to start writing fanfics, but I keep repeating the same word 3 times in the sentence and I don’t know how to phrase it in any other way to get around it, or making the sentence sound weird, and I keep having to relying on Google to type or using my iPhone mic speaker (it sometimes doesn’t work 50% of the time)in the search engine and type “spell [insert word here]” to recognise the words or know what it means, idk if some of that is because of autism or not.

Do you use any software application/apps to help with writing,

Also side note: when I’m trying to text to somebody on discord, I keep thinking the text I’m typing sounds rude, but I’m not trying to make it sound rude??, and then I just feel really high anxiety about it, is that normal???

Sorry for the long gibberish text lmao

Hi! This isn't rude or weird at all, don't worry! I also get really anxious sending asks or asking for advice, you're good.

I'm not the best person to ask, since I'm still very new to writing and I'm still figuring it out myself, but I'll try my best! Putting it under a readmore because it got long

I personally don't use any apps to help with writing. Google docs has some built in features, like autocorrect or suggestions about word choice/placement or grammar, but that's about it. I've heard Grammarly is good?

For spelling:

If autocorrect isn't working I simplify the word then look up synonyms for it. For example, if I'm struggling to spell "delighted, then I'll simplify that word to "happy", and then google "happy synonyms", and keep looking up and searching words until I get to it.

This is also very good if you're struggling to think of a word you need, or if you don't understand what a word means. Adding "synonym" to your search works wonders, for me at least.

Another option is beta readers! They read through your work and can help with things like spelling and grammar, etc. I get my sibling or mum to read through my shit all the time, and I'll go to friends for advice as well.

For actually writing:

I know exactly what you mean with the getting stuck on a sentence or word and not being able to get around it. I had been wanting to get back into writing for around a year and this always stopped me and made me give up, it's only recently, the past couple of months, that I've started to actually commit to writing and get around it. I still get caught up in it!!

A couple of things help me! The main one is sometimes you have to let yourself write Badly. I have multiple docs of when I first started to write again, and it's all bad, but making myself write it, without expecting to publish it, helped me figure out what works best for me. And more importantly, it helps you get back into the actual habit of writing, and gives you something you can go back and work on. It sucks, and it's hard, but sometimes you just got to write the world's worst sentence.

If that's not working, just bail. In all of my wips, I have half completed sentences where I was really struggling and couldn't get around it, so I just stopped and worked on something else, something easier, and then when I think I can try again, I come back to it.

Breaking to down into really simple sentences also helps, to have a foundation you can build on. Most of my fics start out like "Sonic and Tails have a talk about why Tails is upset. Tails is not making eye contact and is looking at the ground. He says that he didn't like it when Sonic ate his mints without asking. Sonic apologizes and says that he didn't know they were Tails' mints." Even dot points would work. Just the bare basics, and then now that I know what exactly is going to happen, I can go back and start actually Writing it.

One thing that helped me actually figure out how to write was reading other people's works, and noting what I really liked about their writing. What pacing choices, word choices, how they use actions and dialogue etc etc. Even doing things like "hmm I would've used a different word there or swapped the order of those actions" can help you figure out how you want to write.

I hope this helps? I'm not sure how much sense it makes sorry akgfdkjh

[black-lake]

astro observations 2

more observations today for ya? this time both signs and aspects. 🦊 

Should I call it the Aquarius post? 🤔 I mentioned Aquarius too many times, sorry I relate too hard, bear with me. 

Highlights: aquarius, MC, IC, sun, virgo, capricorn, gemini, sagittarius, jupiter, mercury, moon, scorpio, aries, uranus

------

🦋 Aquarius placements especially sun, moon, mercury, mars, MC and ascendant are PROS at ignoring your texts until they want to answer. It's like they either consciously ignore your text to rebel against what others expect them to do and do exactly what they want at that time, or unconsciously rebel in the same way desiring complete "freedom". My bestie is aquarius sun and I'm aquarius MC, we answer each other's texts days or weeks later and are okay with it 💀 oh, the answer is also too irrelevant it makes you want to throw your phone at a wall yay 😻

🦋 Fire moon + fire/air mars and anger issues 🤝

🦋 Virgo moons, you had a critical mom or parental figure, you internalized her voice, you criticize without knowing. Your words can make someone self conscious even if you think it's innocent judgment 🥺 Your words can also make some's day because you are trusted! (applies to gemini moons and mercury too). Don’t take it for granted. Until you know how to use your judgment for good, with balance and kindness you become the warmest most looked up to friend.

🦋 Capricorn moons are such complex individuals, their trauma is unique to them, they can endure and have endured a LOT. They are extremely caring or deadly careless no in between. Keeping it professional is what they're good at. Each one I met is so much different than the other, they have similar but different stories, but they all have this grounded energy that can make them even seem heavy energetically. Once evolved, they can be the wisest people to talk to.

🦋 Aquarius MC individuals might have been too emotionally attached to their family at a young age, especially their mom (with leo 4th). They had so much passion and love for their mom and realized it wasn't equally reciprocated, they were manipulated (hits home). They also might have been jealous and needed the love and attention all on them, but they dgaf anymore. 😎 At a certain age, their family broke their trust and they became completely detached. They learned to be emotionally secure and set strong boundaries with people which shocked everyone. They stopped giving energy to their family or anyone else. They ran out of f*cks to give so soon.

🦋 Aquarius MC/IC they were and always will be seen as weird and different from their family and everyone else (hell I'm seen as controversial and questionable even when I sit still and do nothing). love that.

🦋 Also if you have Aquarius MC, IC or Ascendant check when saturn transits 4th or 10th or aspects the nodes/mc. This indicates the end of karmic cycles with your family related to your self concept and self expression. You will have a chance to break cycles and be more individualistic. It may be painful but hold on. 🥺

🦋 Gemini and Virgo ascendants can be introverted or extroverted, mostly introverted, unless they have planets in the 1st, much air or fire energy. They always have a way with words tho no matter what, and they always are nervous, their minds never shut down, they keep thinking and rethinking lol. These individuals break social norms, research and discuss topics much more profoundly than what has been done before. They have topics to talk about that were forgotten or not discussed enough.

🦋 Sagittarius moons and placements, feeling the need to laugh at the wrong, very wrong time. LOUD laughs . Laughs that make others stare with a look of concern. Making jokes when it's time to get serious. Repeating jokes as it gets more serious. Making more jokes when someone tells them to stop. Laughs at people not laughing at their jokes. Laughs at their own joke before they say it. plz I admire. 

🦋 Gemini, Virgo, Aquarius, Capricorn, Aries, Leo, Scorpio mercuries intrigue me the most, they got something impressive about them, the way they talk and their words are powerful, can equally be destructive and toxic. People can take them the wrong way. What they have to say should be heard period. Watch your speech if you have these signs, you don’t want to hurt people or yourself.

🦋 Now I don’t like to talk about how Scorpio and Aries mars are seen as "sexy" because it's been said trillions of times (even tho I like to read them because I'm a scorpio mars 💀). But hear me out, the most prominent thing about all scorpio mars individuals is that they like to move in complete silence, like they don't exist, like you will never catch them. Every decision they take in life is private, because that's the only way they can shock you with their big success and revenge on all people that didn't believe in them. They want to keep you guessing and never give you answers but will show actions and accomplishments only. Their biggest dream is to come out on top once everyone has forgotten about them (or not), but to see your jaw droppin is their wet dream loool.  

🦋 Mercury conjunct Uranus? and all aspects for that matter, but especially the conjunction. You cannot convince me that these individuals are not geniuses, no matter how dumb they act. Take care of your mind, it's something special gorg. Also your voice must be so unique, it stays on someone's mind and is so vivid when they think of you. 

🦋 Mercury conjunct Jupiter, the philosopher. You just like to talk about abstract and broad topics. Spiritualist at heart, rational to deny it often tho. You have sooo many interests it's insane. You are the jack of all trades. People expect you to know things? You come off as a know it all, even if you don't mean it (yea I have it I relate). You have lessons to learn and teach those around you especially about their concept of life and beliefs. Any compliment you give can mean a lot to people. Your positivity is infectious. 

🦋 Mercury aspecting Jupiter, especially conjunctions can give a lot of optimism, this applies to neptune positively aspecting chiron as well. I see it in charts of people that have heavy saturn, pluto or chiron energy, to balance the darkness, their ability to think positively is healing to them and others because likely other things are destroying them in life and they already have many wounds. Your optimism is not an illusion, it's a gift from the universe. Life gets better as you spiritually evolve. 

🦋 Moon opposite/square mercury, such a hard aspect. A constant mental and emotional conflict. You don't know whether to trust your thoughts or emotions. You don't know when you're trusting either. There is a direct and strong influence of thoughts on emotions. Now that means your thought can hurt you or elevate you so be careful. Especially at a young age your thoughts and others' thoughts have hurt you deeply, as you grow you learn how to balance it out, to not give a f*ck. The good thing about this aspect is that these people pick up on their thought patterns easily and have potential to manipulate their minds to their benefit. Mental health is important to these individuals. Don't let your mind run wild especially in a negative direction. It's also important to surround yourselves with positive people. Music might be important for you to process emotions. 

🦋 Conjunctions are far from being "neutral" aspects imo. They are powerful natural talents and gifts in perspective, confidence, expression and skills. These aspects are always positive, even to challenging planets, if they act negatively then there are likely other challenging aspects to the same planets, the native might have not learned yet how to work with this energy or hasn’t realized their potential. Conjunctions are the highest and strongest potential any two planets can reach. The planets don't become "one", they rather meet eye to eye, acknowledge their qualities fully and work out their differences beautifully which manifests in the form of talents and potential. Yes like all aspects they got their negatives too but their positives enormously surpass the negatives. Conjunctions are highly positive aspects, it's unfair to call them neutral.

[whatisthiswritingthing]

I’m Ready - Emily Sonnett x Reader

Prompt: Where R is a single foster parent and it got me thinking.

R has not had a placement for awhile (but still has her foster license) and Sonnett planed the date to ask R to move in with her but when she ask R, R was shocked and telling Sonnett that she doesn’t think it will be a good idea because of her being a foster parent and could get a call at any given time and Sonnett telling R that she does not care and would like to help her out. Then R gets the call for a placement and has to leave the date but Sonnett get up with her and basically like I am going with you and you can’t stop me. When they get to the hospital R sees how gentle and soft Sonnett is with the baby and tells her that yes they will move in her.

Where the R is a single foster parent ( been for a while before they started to date) and while Sonnett and R is on a date and R gets a call about a foster placement (a 3 month old baby) and feels bad for leaving the date but Sonnett insist on coming her and helping her out. But when she founds out that it’s a baby sonnett gets so nervous and scared.

Note, couple prompt rolled into one here. 

“She didn’t say anything when you asked?” Kelley asked from the couch, watching Sonnett pace back and forth through the living room, stopping occasionally to randomly adjust everything that was already perfectly in place.

“I didn’t even get a chance!” the blonde turned around quickly, throwing her hands up.

“What do you mean?” the defender tilted her head to the side, Emily flopping her hands back to her sides and beginning to move throughout the room, “slow down and explain what happened.”

Emily sighed, moving to perch on the edge of arm of the couch. Biting the edge of her thumb, she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, “I don’t know,” she shrugged defeated, “we had plans last night, she seemed like she was really looking forward to it. I picked her up, she looked gorgeous,” a small smile on her face, dropping as she continued, “the night was great, dinner was romantic, we were every gross romantic cliché. Then on our walk, I got nervous, and I couldn’t get the words out.”

Kelley moved to the blonde, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back, encouraging her to continue, tugging the thumb away from her teeth, squeezing her hand.

“And she was so sweet about it, said I could talk to her about anything, she had pulled me to the side of the path, held both my hands and just gave me the softest smile,” she paused, smiling softly while she thought about the night before, “then I don’t know what happened. I finally got the nerve to start asking and she got all weird and said she needed to go and bolted.”

Having sat long enough, the defender got up and began pacing the room again. Kelley furrowed her brow, confused at how quickly Y/N had changed on the date the night before. Y/N was always so patient with the blonde, giving her the opportunity to explain herself, reassuring her when she was anxious about how she worded things.

“Have you guys talked since?”

Sonnett shook her head sadly, “I tried to call her last night, but she didn’t answer and I sent a couple texts, nothing there either.”

Kelley got up and pulled the blonde into a hug, “I’m sorry Em.”

Emily struggled in the hold for a second before collapsing into it and allowing the hug, “maybe this means she isn’t interested in long term,” she mumbled into the brunette’s neck.

“You guys have been together for two years, she requested a trade to Washington just to be with you,” Kelley squeezed her, “do you really think she isn’t serious about this?”

She shrugged meekly in the hug.

“See if she says anything at practice this afternoon. Don’t overthink yourself too far before you know what to overthink.”

Sonnett just shrugged again, tugging herself away, fumbling around the apartment, picking up her equipment, “let’s get to training then.”

Practice was about to start, but Y/N had yet to show up.

“Sonnett, where’s Y/L/N?” Burke called, looking around the field.

“I’m not her keeper,” the blonde grunted out, before her eyes went wide, “sorry coach, I’m not sure where she is today.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Y/N called as she rushed out to the field, one cleat on, hoping on one foot while she struggled to pull the other on while still moving, shin guards tucked under arms, “It will never happen again, I’m so sorry Coach.”

Burke gave her a hard look, motioning for everyone to focus up and began his pre-practice talk. Y/N crashed down hard, having tripped over her untied cleat, “fuck,” she tugged the other cleat on.

Sonnett watched on as Y/N spoke with Burke after the meeting off to the side. Burke nodded along, smiling as Y/N spoke, giving her a pat on the back as the soccer player jogged away.

The rest of practice Y/N seemed distracted, constantly glancing over to the trainers on the sideline.

“You good?” Emily stood next to her at a water break, concerned for how different her girlfriend seemed during practice.

She never got a response as one of the trainers called Y/N’s name, motioning to the cell phone in her hand, and she took off. The blonde watched as Y/N answered the phone, walking away and beginning to pace the sideline, plugging a finger in her ear when the whistle blew.

“What’s that all about?” Kelley asked the blonde.

“I don’t know,” Sonnett tracked her girlfriend, noting how frustrated she was getting on the call.

Practice resumed, Y/N joining again at some point, more distracted than before.

“We’ve got to talk,” Kelley shoved the soccer player down the hall after practice, pushing her away from the change room.

“Kel, I don’t have time for this,” Y/N pulled her arm out of Kelley’s grasp, working to make her way back towards the change room.

“No, you have time,” Kelley tightened her hold, keeping Y/N in place.

Y/N released a sigh, tilting her chin to the brunette, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you love Emily, or are you just with her for the fun of it?” she began harshly.

“Fuck you Kelley,” Y/N ripped her arm out, glaring at her, “do you actually have something to say, or would you like to just belittle my relationship?”

“She was going to ask you to move in with her,” Kelley softened.

The glare immediately left Y/N’s face, “oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” now the brunette glared at her, not saying anything and just watching Y/N, waiting for her to say something else, “fix this,” Kelley pointed firmly at her before walking away.

Y/N slowly walked back to the change room, reading the new email on her phone as she went, plopping into her locker and running a hand over her face.

Emily came and sat next to her, “I saw Kelley kidnapped you,” she tried to joke.

Y/N sighed, rolling her head to look at the blonde, giving her a sad smile, “something like that. I’m sorry about last night Emily.”

“It’s alright Y/N, can you tell me what happened?”

Y/N looked away, letting out a slow controlled breath, “I need to tell you something,” she started nervously.

“Can we not do this here?” Emily whispered, nervously looking around the change room, seeing the few lingering players.

“Shit, not that Em,” Y/N quickly shook her head, “but, uhh, you’re definitely right, not here.”

The pair both nervously gathered their things, awkwardly walking next to each other out of the stadium. The awkwardness continued as they walked into Emily’s apartment, neither of them knowing how to start or what to say.

“We can’t live together,” Y/N finally cut the awkward silence.

Emily clenched her jaw and nodded her head dejectedly.

“God Emily, I’m crazy about you, for you. But I think we are better living apart, at least for a little bit,” Y/N didn’t know how to explain how much she loved Emily but why it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to live together, how unfair it be to the blonde if they lived together, “I love you.”

Now Emily scoffed at hearing that, rolling her eyes and looking to the ceiling, “what, you love me but you’re just not in love with me? It’s not you it’s me? What cliché line are you going to drop before you break up with me?”

“No, I don’t want to break up with you,” Y/N recoiled, shaking her head, not expecting the aggressiveness in the blonde’s tone.

“Then, what the fuck is going on? I was ready to ask you to move in yesterday and now you’re being all weird and saying it’s a bad idea, and saying you don’t want to break up, but very much acting how someone would before they break up.”

Emily let all her frustration out, hands firmly on her hips as she started hard at her girlfriend.

Y/N nodded along while the blonde ranted.

“There was a screw up, or not really a screw up, but my name was passed along without me knowing,” Y/N sighed, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the couch cushion, “I was a foster parent back in in Seattle, and I guess they need them here, and the social worker from there moved here and uhh added me to the list.”

“So?” the blondes anger not going anywhere, not understanding why this meant they couldn’t live together.

“They want to give me a kid, uhh a baby actually,” Y/N looked down, rubbing her hand on the back if her neck.

Emily dropped her hands, eyes shooting wide, not expecting that answer.

“I said maybe, only if they can’t find anyone else and only short term. So, I might not be getting one, but uhh, I didn’t want you to feel trapped if I did get one.”

Sonnett opened and closed her mouth, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she was ready for a baby, but she knew she was ready for Y/N, so she was probably ready to try.

Y/N’s phone began to ring on the coffee table, she glanced to the phone and to Emily, before picking up the phone when she saw the expression on the blondes face. Not able to interpret it, she picked up the phone and began to walk into the hall.

Emily nervously moved around the apartment while she waited for Y/N to come back inside. Yesterday she was going to ask Y/N to move in with her, and now she’s considering if she is ready to help take care of a kid with her. They had been together for a while now, Y/N uprooted her whole life to be near Emily, she wasn’t forcing her to help either, hadn’t asked her at all.

Did that mean Y/N didn’t think Emily was serious about them? That she didn’t think Emily could handle a baby? That she didn’t see a future with them? A future baby of their own?

She was brought out of her thoughts when Y/N slowly walked back inside, gently closing the door behind her. Y/N tapped the edge of her phone against her palm, refusing to look up.

“I have to go,” she started softly, “I’m sorry I made you think I wanted to break up, I love you, Emily.” She took a couple steps forward, kissing Emily on the cheek, nodding to herself and making her way back to the door.

“Wait!” Emily rushed forward, stopping Y/N before she could leave, “I want to come.”

“Emily,” Y/N smiled sadly at the blonde, “I’m on my way to pick up a baby right now.”

“I know, I want to come.”

Y/N watched her, determining if she was serious. Nodding, she smiled and reached out to hold the blondes hand and lead her out.

Sonnett listened as Y/N spoke to the social worker, trying to take in all the new information. That the baby had been delivered the night before, that the mom wasn’t prepared for a baby and dad wasn’t in the picture at all, no other family available to take care of the baby.

She could feel her palms sweat the more they spoke, this baby was already in a position where no one wanted it, she wasn’t prepared to be another disappointment in the small humans short life.

“You don’t have to stay Em,” Y/N leaned over and whispered after the social worker walked away, “you didn’t sign up for this, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I’m here,” she rubbed her palms on her pants, “I’m ready,” she straightened up, giving Y/N a determined smile, “did you do this lots in Seattle?”

“This will be my second baby, but I had a few toddlers, couple children. This will be my eighth all together though,” Y/N kept her eyes down the hallway, waiting for the social worker to come back with the baby.

“How did you do it with travelling for both teams?”

“I agreed for short term ones only, and I had a few really good friends that were able to watch them during practice or the odd away game. Luckily, we always get all our schedules far enough in advance I can plan pretty far ahead,” Y/N explained, “this one is a little unexpected though, so I’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Emily corrected.

“What?” Y/N looked next to her, pausing the mental planning she was doing, organizing everything she would need to get done.

“We’ll figure it out, together,” she clarified again, “I’m in this with you Y/N.”

“Really Emily, you don’t need to help, but I guess, just uhh, now you know.”

Sonnett didn’t say anything as the social worker rounder the corner with a small baby wrapped in a blanket. Y/N stepping away to meet her halfway, gently taking the baby into her arms, rocking it back and forth.

Emily couldn’t help the smile on her face, the gentle smile on Y/N’s face as she stared down at the baby pulling one of her own. She walked up behind Y/N, sliding an arm around her waist, Y/N turned and smiled at her.

“Want to hold her?” Y/N turned slightly, offering her the baby.

Sonnett nodded nervously, wiping her hands before taking the baby into her arms. Y/N mimicked Emily and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m really glad you agreed to this Y/N,” the social worker cut in, interrupting their little bubble.

Y/N smiled in return, giving her a nod, looking back to Emily holding the baby.

“Do you want me to take a picture? You guys are adorable,” the social worker reached a handout for Y/N’s phone. Taking the picture, she handed the phone back, “everything is in order, I’ll check in in a couple days. You look really happy Y/N,” she patted Y/N on the arm as she walked away.

“Ready to go home?” Y/N asked, taking the baby back from Emily, sliding a hand down to hold the blondes and guide her out of the hospital.

“I’m ready,” Emily kissed Y/N on the cheek before placing a delicate one on the babies forehead.

[momentofmemory]

hi mem if i could pick your brain about typography - how do you know how to position the words of a phrase on a gif? i'm working on something right now where i want to place a lyric in a more varied fashion than simply straight across the gif, but i'm not sure how to arrange the words so they fit together. sorry i hope this makes sense

You may certainly pick my brain as it is one of my favourite subjects. :) This got a little long, but hopefully it’s not too rambly lol.

INTRO.

Typography placement is primarily about the composition of the gif pre-text, where the word/phrase you want to emphasize is + what it looks like, and how many words/phrases you want to emphasize. We’ll talk arranging the text in relation to itself first, and then about where to place it on the gif (heretofore referred to as the “base”).

1. CENTERED TEXT.

This is pretty much the most straightforward option: you have your highlight word, and then you can center either a)as a stack with lines above and below, b)as a sandwich w lines on the left and right, or c)as a set of two lines either above/below.

Literally the only thing that defines which method you use is a)where in the text it’s located (beginning, middle, end) and b)what vibes you’re feeling that day. My only caution here is to watch for balance: having a ton of text on one side of the main word/phrase and almost none on the other tends to look pretty wonky.

2. SPLIT TEXT.

This method is a variant on the first, except that something about the text/font means that method 1 doesn’t work well. This could be because an ascender/descender gets in the way, because I want a more square shape than rectangle shape, or just because it matches the font better.

Ex.1—“you’re facing down”—the ascender of the “d” is the problem here. If I just centered the upper text, the two words would overlap unless I moved the text waaaaaaay far away from each other (and generally, typography for a single phrase looks best grouped tightly). Breaking up the top line avoids this issue.

Ex.2—“Bending backwards”—the severe tilt of the text made centering it feel off balance (to me). By shifting the top & bottom text to either side, it “supports” the tilted text and keeps it grounded in frame.

Ex. 3 —”when all hope is lost”—has two issues. First, the extreme height of thee ascender of the “h” and the depth of the descender “p” get in the way of top/bottom text, and the circle I wanted enclosing the text prevents a long horizontal composition. Dropping the word “hope” down onto the line with the second line of text, and centering it below the first, avoids this.

Now, a breakdown using Ex. 1, with one I think doesn’t work and three I think could work.

A: As stated above, it crams too close to the ascender of the d, and has a weird boxy feel.

B: Top line is shifted over so it’s not a true center, but because the bottom line isn’t centered you can’t tell. Could work, but I think the order of how you read it gets a little lost since as the the “d” comes first, it makes it look like “down” is to be read before the top line.

C: Placing the “you’re” in front of the “d” fixes the reading problem. The centering looks just fine; perfectly acceptable.

D: This is the version I went with, mostly bc similar to ex.2, I liked the grounding on the left/right. Could easily go either way.

3. MULTI-FONT/EMPHASIS TEXT.

I don’t do this terribly often in the same gif, so two of the examples are from the same set, but I hope they’re at least different enough to give you vibes lol. Basically, the way this one works is you have two phrases/words you want to emphasize, so a blending of centering & forming goes on.

4. SO WHERE DO I PUT IT?

Once you’ve arranged your text, you still have to figure out where it goes on your base. That’s where considering the composition of the image comes in.

Having the text in the middle of your gif is far and away the easiest and most common placement, BUT if you have any gifs that’re heavily weighted to the left or right (for example if you have a gif with a person all the way on the left side and nothing on the right), it’s going to look weird if your text is centered. In these cases I switch to some kind of pattern: either the text maintains a left-right zig-zag (left on gif1, right on gif 2, left on gif 1, etc.), or I alternate between left-center-right-center-left (or left-center-right-center-right, if I want a V). Basically, alternating is key.

Another consideration is if you want to highlight anything with your text. For example, in this set I had a pretty busy centerpiece and having text on top of it would be way too much, but also I didn’t want to distract from it. I solved this problem by arranging the text on a path that matched the symbol, so it felt like part of the image, instead of something slapped on top. There’re a lot of things you can do to mesh text & image, and this is easily where you can have the most fun.

CONCLUSION.

Two really useful questions to ask yourself when working with type are 1)does this feel balanced? and 2)can you actually read it in the order it suggests? Because, ultimately, typography is a vehicle—if you can’t read/understand the words, or the text gets in the way of appreciating the image, that’s really the only way it can “fail.” Otherwise, everything else is just style and flavour. :)

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

[farfromharry]

The one with the much needed bandaid | Peter’s Girl

Summary: You and Peter finally talk about what you saw the night of Liz’s party, and you become sort of his go to nurse

Word count - 2375

Warnings - mentions of injury, language? i can’t remember

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Peter had spent the entire weekend practically pulling his hair out over the whole thing with Y/N. He couldn’t believe he was so reckless that in the space of the same night he’d managed to one, accidentally reveal his identity to one of his best friends, two, scare away the bad guys by underestimating just how dangerous they were, and three, summon Mr Stark- well his suit and some kind of phone call, to save him from a lake after being dropped in by some weird bird man.

So you could say Peter’s last few days hadn’t been very enjoyable or realistic at all and it was driving him insane.

He was trying to fix things one by one, and he’d begun with apologising to Mr Stark for any inconvenience he caused. His mentor was quick to brush it off, telling him not to get too worked up about it, but warning him to leave the dangerous men to him and the people who were specially trained to deal with these kinds of things, not just some kid from Queens.

He didn’t know how much of that he would stick to, determined to catch these guys as quickly as possible if the avengers weren’t going to jump in, but he’d try and keep that quiet and unknown to Tony of course.

The next part of his plan was to find you on Monday morning, to at least try and explain what he was doing in Spiderman’s suit outside of Liz’s party, maybe tell a few white lies to get himself out of the web he’s caught himself in.

And his plan for the bad guys… well that was still in the works, but he was smart so he’d figure it out in his own time.

»»——⍟——««

You had received numerous texts and calls from Peter since the moment you woke up that morning, all of which had been ignored. You’d gathered he’d want to talk to you but you weren’t returning the sentiment, and you weren’t even sure why. Were you mad he didn’t tell you? Mad that he’d put himself in all that danger?

You didn’t know, but you did know that you were planning on avoiding him so you didn’t have to find out.

Peter had met up with Ned that morning like he did every morning. He was rambling on about some new star wars theory that the brunette would normally love to hear and give his opinion on, so the fact that Peter was ignoring him was strange.

“Are you okay? You seem a little on edge,” Ned pointed out. Peter turned to look at him with a small, unconvincing look.

“I just need to talk to Y/N.”

Ned rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what happened that night other than Peter had left him looking stupid at the party, prompting Flash to call the boy some names while he wasn’t there.

Seeing as Mj had stopped defending him and Ned wouldn’t get involved, the male was free to ridicule Peter for as long as he wished, making for a lot of weird stares in the school halls.

But back to the present, his best friend didn’t seem too happy that he was so obviously keeping things from him, because Peter Parker was a horrible liar.

When your eyes met Peter’s figure resting against your locker you quickly spun around and started heading in the opposite direction, even if you had no idea where you were planning on going. Your hair whipping around was what caught Peter’s attention from his peripheral vision.

“Gotta go,” he announced to Ned, heading off the way you left with a quick jog in his step. You could hear Peter calling your name louder the closer he got, prompting you to speed up.

You cursed quietly when you came to the end of the hallway, having to decide on the spot whether to go left to a crowd of rowdy students, or right to a dead end. People must have thought you both looked crazy, even though that was the only other conclusion you could come to about yourself after you saw Peter on the rooftop.

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, grabbing your wrist in a gentle but firm grip. You stared at him wide eyed, almost like you were afraid of him, and it was a look that Peter never wanted to see again.

He quickly looked around before tugging you through an open door that led you to an empty classroom.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you standing there watching him blankly. He took a few minutes to try and prepare what he was going to say, granted something he should’ve probably done before he pulled you into a room with him.

“I want to explain the other night,” he stated, meeting your eyes for the first time that day. Your expression stayed stoic, pursing your lips.

“You want to lie your way out of admitting you’re Spiderman?” you sassed. The male was slightly taken back at your bluntness.

“Yeah, I guess,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly. You didn’t look impressed at all, and he sputtered out a few apologies.

“Okay yes, I am Spiderman-“ you interrupted him with a scoff, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “Please just hear me out, y/n/n.”

You huffed, folding your arms over your chest. Peter had to admit that without your usual happy mood, you were intimidating and he never knew you were even capable of that.

“Fine, go ahead.”

He took a deep breath. “You aren’t meant to know because- it-it’s dangerous Y/N.” Your heart fluttered slightly. “I didn’t tell anyone because I wanted you all to be safe, I don’t know what I’d do if I was the reason you got hurt.”

Your features noticeably softened. He stepped closer to you, taking your hands in his and running his thumb over the back of your skin.

“You can’t tell anyone, please.” His soft eyes met yours in a pleading look.

“Who else knows?” you asked.

“Ned,” he mumbled. “And Mr Stark, but that’s it.”

You perked up slightly, and Peter noticed.

“So, Mj doesn’t know?” He shook his head, murmuring something about how it probably wouldn’t take her long to figure out though. Sensing your happiness about his words, the boy assumed you were happy that you knew something that she didn’t, and he didn’t really understand why. But that wasn’t the case, you were just glad that it meant she was safe, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right?

“Will you keep my secret?” he asked, staring at you with eyes that resembled those of a scared puppy. You sighed, flashing him a smile and nodding your head.

“Of course I will.” The tone of your voice suggested to Peter that you weren’t done and there was going to be some kind of condition here.

“But?” he prompted.

“But please be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He grinned, pulling you into a tight hug. You tucked your head under his chin, inhaling his scent and being calmed by his presence.

Peter couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face thinking about how you weren’t aware of his abilities, something he’d have to explain to you sometime. “You have so much to learn about me.”

»»——⍟——««

A soft tapping on your window was the last thing you expected to hear at almost midnight on a weekday. You raised your head from your pillow, squinting your eyes to try and make out what was on the other side of the glass.

You eventually had to turn on your light, startling when you noticed the shape of a person, more specifically a superhero.

You swung your legs over the side of your bed, hissing when your feet made contact with the cold floor, but you pushed that aside to go and open your window to invite Peter in.

He hastily pulled off his mask, revealing his ruffled hair and bloody face to you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, taking note of the streaks of red on the side of his face. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, stepping forward without a word to engulf you in a hug.

You were careful wrapping your arms around him, making sure you didn’t cause him anymore pain with your hand placement.

“What happened?”

He raised his head, pressing the spider symbol in the middle of his chest. His suit grew loose, making it easy for him to take off and leave on your bedroom floor.

Your eyes widened, staring at Peter’s body in shock. You knew when he explained the whole situation with the spider that he would have some muscle, but you were definitely not expecting that.

“Um,” you were more or less speechless, forgetting how to even form words while this gorgeous boy was standing in your room in nothing but underwear.

Peter obviously hadn’t thought it completely through, his eyes widening when he realised you were indeed staring at him half naked.

“Sorry, I-I-“ You shook your head, ignoring the definite blush on your cheeks as you guided him to your bathroom. You got the boy to sit down on the side of the tub, where he nervously played with his fingers.

“So, what happened?” you asked, setting your emergency first aid kit on the side. He blankly looked up to you, finally looking at you properly. Only now did he notice that you must have been trying to go to sleep.

You were in an old shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, your hair tied up in a messy ponytail without any makeup. Peter always thought you were pretty, and it seemed as though he was only now realising just how pretty you were.

“Pete?” you whispered, snapping him out of his daydream.

He apologised. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you could turn your head to the light.” He nodded, doing as you asked and bearing his wounded cheekbone to you. His fists clenched when he felt you touch the alcohol to his cheek, hearing a small apology after you heard his pained hiss.

He thought back to a couple minutes ago when you’d ask how this happened, mentally debating whether he should tell you or not. He came to the conclusion that if you were going to generously patch him up then the least he could do was tell you how he got himself in this state in the first place.

“There was some guys following this girl, trying to back her into an alley.” You paused your hand movements, looking into his soft honey eyes with a sympathetic smile. He took that as a sign to continue. “I couldn’t just let it happen, I thought about if that was you or Mj and ai just-“

Your heart almost burst with love for the boy, pressing a friendly kiss to the top of his head that had him blushing a deep scarlet in seconds.

“You did the right thing, even if you got a little hurt.”

He nodded, glad he was able to get your approval, especially after your one condition of not telling anyone was that he was as careful as he could be.

“Where else does it hurt?”

You helped clean Peter up as best as you could, the boy telling you that his quick healing should deal with the parts that you couldn’t, such as the bruised ribs.

“Let me just put a bandaid on and you’re good to go.” He rolled his eyes, trying to tell you that he didn’t need it. It was only a small cut on his bicep but you were insisting on covering it up. Peter watched as your eyes widened when you pulled the bandaids from the first aid kit.

“What is it?” he asked.

You nervously held them up, watching as his face twisted into one of amusement. He let out a loud laugh, quickly being scolded by you as you warned him that your parents were sleeping.

“Really, Y/N?” You blushed, looking down at the bandaid in your hand with a flood of embarrassment. The face of Iron Man stared back at you while Peter continued to giggle. You rolled your eyes, holding out his arm and sticking the bandaid over his cut anyway.

“I hope Mr Stark sees,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him like a child. “You’re all done.”

He thanked you quietly, heading back into your room while you tidied away the mess you’d made on the counter.

Only when you were done you headed back, planning on getting straight back into your bed as soon as Peter had left.

“Thank you for helping me.” You nodded your head, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom as you watched him slip his suit back on.

“Peter,” you whispered, catching his attention just before he left. He hummed quietly. “You know you can come here anytime you need help, right?”

You were being completely genuine, and Peter could see that in your eyes. He was incredibly grateful for you. He held out his hand to you so you’d come over, intertwining your fingers with his when you were close enough to reach.

On an instinct he dipped his head so he was able to kiss your cheek, refusing to meet your eyes as a cute blush spread across his face, the tips of his ears also tinting pink. If he’d have looked at you, you were sure he would’ve noticed he made you equally as hot and bothered, your heart racing so fast you were surprised he couldn’t hear it.

But he could, and it only made him more nervous that he’d just messed things up.

“I know.” He sent you a smile before shooting one of his webs towards a building in the close distance, slipping his mask on over his face and giving you a wave as a final farewell for the night. Thus began the routine of Spiderman showing up at your window every time he was injured and in need of a bandaid, or in some cases a little more than a bandaid.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow

[ot3tropetober]

-So Hardison gets rich playing the stock market as a teen in Nana’s basement. Mostly because the professor at the college econ classes he’s taking for extra credit said he couldn’t.

-By the time he’s graduating highschool at 18 he is filthy rich. (WhatLikeItsHard.gif) He has paid off Nana’s medical bills and her house and went over to the college to gloat a little and decided he doesn’t actually need to go to college when he’s already, you know, doing what he does.

-But he doesn’t wanna keep taking up Nana’s basement when he has heard her having to turn down emergency placements because there’s not enough room. 

-So he moves out. Into a giant mansion, because why not. He has everything. A pool. A fancy kitchen. A shower with like 16 sprays that massage your back perfectly. A hallway with a giant fancy staircase. A whole room dedicated to his computer setup, with all the latest gadgets. A special wine fridge he stocked full of orange soda. A damn fireplace in his bathroom.

-A lot of empty rooms. And quiet. Like, creepy-quiet. Right-before-the-killer-grabs-you-in-the-hallway quiet. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he forgets there is a mirror at the end of one of the hallways. His shriek echoes through the empty house.

-He considers getting a cat for one second but remembers he’s allergic. And it would probably just startle him even more. He gets a few roombas, but even with the giant googly eyes they don’t fill the space as much as he’d hoped. So instead he places an ad online for roommates. 

-He doesn’t get nearly enough responses as he suspects. Maybe ‘come live in my mansion rent free’ gives off some major serial killer vibes. He amends his ad to a reasonable but still low enough rent that people who really need a place can apply. 

-He runs background checks on everyone who applies. He may or may not disqualify some people for petty reasons. Sorry not sorry, this is his mansion and he’s not about to share his kitchen with someone who thinks Kylo Ren is cooler than Poe Dameron, okay?

-He has some interviews, but nobody seems to click. A lot of people seem to want to make his house some kind of party-mansion. And not the fun kind of movie-marathon, D&D session, LAN Party kind of parties. One girl keeps asking him when the ‘real owner’ of the house is going to be back. 

-He’s thinking about giving up and moving back home and finding a small apartment near Nana’s house when a girl shows up in his living room.

-She does not have an interview scheduled. Hardison knows this for two reasons: one, he thinks he’d remember background checking someone as pretty as her. Two: it’s three in the morning.

-“So I heard you’re looking for roommates,” she says. A roomba nudges against her foot, and she reaches down to pat it before it turns away. “I like your pet robots.”

-It’s probably the fact that he’s been up for like 48 hours by now, but he’s like: thanks, want a tour of the house?

-Parker moves in that weekend. He helps her move in, and does not ask why she has an entire box of the exact same creepy doll whose head turns around to show an even more creepy face. He just kindly requests she keep those in her rooms, not the shared ones.

-Parker is a great roommate. Her schedule is all over the place as well, but she’s tidy, she’s funny, and she’ll hang out and watch Doctor Who with him. She also names all his roombas. He pretends not to see her dropping some fortune cookie crumbs on purpose to feed Carl the kitchen roomba when he goes by.

-Their next roommate is Eliot. He’s a veteran who’s learning how to cook at some kind of culinary school. He gets a little flustered when Hardison shows him his rooms, plural, saying he must have read the ad wrong, and is almost out the door before Hardison can convince him that yes, the price in the ad is correct, no this is not a cult, he just bought a house that was much too big and he has Regrets okay, help a brother out.

-So Eliot moves in as well. He gets a little judgy when he finds out 95% of the kitchen cupboards are empty, and the rest is filled with cereal and junkfood. He brings in more boxes of kitchenware than clothes, and Parker is delighted at poking each and every thing he unpacks.

-Eliot’s schedule is kind of the opposite of Hardison’s. He is some kind of weird morning person. They mostly run into each other when Hardison is going to bed and Eliot comes back from his morning run. He’s mostly at school or working kitchen shifts to gain more experience during the times Hardison is awake, so they mostly communicate via text.

-Parker’s the one that figures out Eliot is all bark and no bite. Or actually, all growl and no bite. Turns out, he just really hates the little buttons on his smartphone, so his texts are very short and curt. Hardison starts leaving notes on the kitchen fridge instead and that works much better. Note-Eliot is way nicer than text-Eliot.

-The great thing about Eliot is that his homework is basically… fuck around in the kitchen and make delicious things. Which he then ‘makes’ them taste. So yeah maybe Hardison kind of… switches his schedule so he’s around more and awake for Eliot Cooking Time. 

-So basically he gets roommates, and free food and it’s all great. Except for that time he accidentally ate Eliot’s sandwich. Well, he didn’t leave a note saying NOT to! It ends up with him being dragged out of bed and interrogated (Parker shining a flashlight at him and being generally Chaotic Unhelpful) until he confesses.

-The only reason Eliot doesn’t kill him probably is because he babbles about how delicious it was. Or because he’s tired of Parker shouting unrelated cop-phrases at Hardison over his shoulder.

-They come up with a system where Eliot leaves very threatening notes on the stuff he does not want them to eat. It mostly works. Besides, Parker has totally found Eliot’s weak spots (puppy eyes) and can basically make him cook them whatever.

-It’s pretty great until it starts to heat up. And both Parker and Eliot start making use of the big outdoor pool. Which is great, that’s what it’s there for. But they then wander around looking sexy and damp and near naked and Hardison is starting to get Very Inappropriate Thoughts, okay?

-Okay so maybe he also had very inappropriate thoughts before, even when Eliot was wearing like 13 layers of clothing and Parker was wearing cozy sweaters and it’s still not fair for them to wander around looking so hot.

-But he’s not about to ruin a good thing with his crushes. Besides, he’s technically their landlord, that would be weird and creepy.

-So he just… quietly pines a little. It’s cool. He still gets to hang out in the kitchen with Parker and Eliot, and force them to watch movies they have never seen that they really should (neither of them talk to him for a week because of the whole Lilo and Stitch thing).

-And maybe he notices them huddled together whispering sometimes. That’s cool. That’s fine. They can date each other if they want. (Don’t think about Eliot and Parker together, don’t, it’s too hot and you won’t be able to look them in the eye ever again, dammit Hardison).

-Until one day he wanders down into the shared living space to find the dining room table to be all decked out, a table cloth and candles and roses and everything. And Parker and Eliot look up all expectantly as he starts backpedaling that he didn’t mean to interrupt their date before Eliot growls and says ‘sit down, Hardison’. 

-The table has three place settings.

-Oh.

-It’s one hundred percent worth his foster siblings quoting a meme at him all weekend when he brings the two of them home to meet his Nana.

[sixthwater]

🐸 Synastry with: a Best-Friend 🐸

This is part of my platonic synastry series, but it's a special edition considering it's their birthday! Well it just passed but I work weird shifts so it's still their birthday So we'll be putting out a friend "episode" before my final family episode.

Note: This is using and based off of personal experience, I will be using specific people and referencing them throughout the post

Me & 🐸's placements

☉: Cancer / Cancer ☽: Taurus / Scorpio ☿: Cancer / Gemini ♀: Cancer / Cancer ♂: Virgo / Virgo

*Fun fact: our MBTIs are INFJ / INTJ respectively lmao

**She has heavy scorpio in her chart while having a jupiter asc. Naturally rosy cheeks + dark make-up. I was once walking down the hallway with a friend of ours and he was very quiet before saying "you know 🐸 wears too much make-up (her cheeks)." ".....That's Just Her Face." , so that's a nice introduction to how her inner placements are playing out before I dive into this.

🦎Overlays

Me: Sun in 8th / 🐸: Sun in 6th

We are best-friends for a reason. There is no obsession here present (which I can attribute to placements and aspects I will bring up later), but we were often found together in high school. Of course there are the "that's my best friend" jokes, but it was never serious. 🐸 often says that I'm her "only friend" but she is very charismatic and has plenty of friends. It's meant more as in "you've seen and know things about me and are still here and I don't know if I can say the same for other people". Which can all be under the 8th house. For the 6th house, I'm serious I basically lived at her house. After school activities we were together, we were in the same group for trips, I joined her for family outings since I was basically adopted, etc. It never felt like a partnership but I do always feel like I need to pay her back, but that's definitely just a me thing lmao.

Me: Mercury & Venus in 8th / 🐸: Mercury & Venus in 5th

Perfect overlays for both of us if I'm honest. The 8th house overlay for Mercury can lead to "mind reading" if that's what you want to call it. We are both not ones to open up easily at all, but I remember when I knew I could trust her. I was in a very dark place in high school and one day I was pretending to be asleep. Our teacher came to her to ask if I was ok and I was about to get up and get back to work before she just told her "she's just tired and taking a nap", which is something very small but during that time she was the first person who picked up on the fact that I wanted to be left alone and I told her that after the teacher left and she brushed it off lmao. A mercury 8th house overlay can cause that "no words needed" feeling. For venus-- well we're both art kids so...but seriously we've both entrusted each other with heavy secrets or moments in our life (I'm sorry my mercurial mind is scrambled and I can't remember clearly I swear I just mix shit up!!!!). For the 5th overlays, yeah we're annoying LMAO. I don't know how to explain it. The 8th overlays don't feel that heavy because we're being very stupid and doing stupid shit most of the time, even during the shitty times? To feel better? It's very much like that audio of linkin park's numb put to an 80s aesthetic? I usually very much like to be fucking left alone besides for the few people that get to annoy me and I like to annoy for hours and she's one of them. We usually spent the entire day hanging out whenever she had time, traveled to different cities close by, visited museums, have a bunch of inside jokes--honestly this is like. Absolutely perfect for friend overlay material lol. Very fun, I mean it's the fifth house.

Me: Moon in 5th / 🐸: Moon in 9th

I know I know,,,,,,you're jealous,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, To just expand on that Big text: yes we have fun. We appreciate each other's existence. Sometimes we can put each other on a pedestal. I don't have to look into astrology to understand that we were meant to become friends to help each other, some things just don't need exploring to understand that lmao.

Me: Mars in 10th / 🐸: Mars in 7th

As I've stated before, I don't pick up much on 7th house energy so if you can notice anything I've stated that point to that feel free to let me know, but I'll be focusing more on the 10th (which might bring in some of the 7th tbh). When we were younger we used to work on projects together and I always got them to cosplay with me. It started off with just pokemon gijinkas, then evolved into complicated ones, and slowly we just cosplayed together from different series but her cosplays were always SO good. She was supposed to teach me how to sew but my attention span is.......Hm. So I'll learn when I get another sewing machine. The cosplay is just one example, but a good portion of my projects that were decently big usually involved her until recently (aka after I moved haha).

🐢Aspects

Alright, so we have a bunch of 8th house overlays and we're "clingy" water signs so how did that not blow up in our faces???

Well, starting with placements: I have an aquarius rising with a taurus moon. Both are fixed signs and generally pretty distant, even if one of them is better at putting up an act of being pleasant, they're still not going to make a bond with someone because when they make a connection they will commit. The house placements for all my inner planets are more "logical" and "distant" than "emotional" as well. For 🐸, they have scorpio & gemini placements, plus a sagittarius rising. With their house placements, I'm just repeating what I said up there. We have the same case going on. With that said:

My Sun Opposes 🐸's Uranus & Vice Versa

We both appreciate and value our own space and identity within a relationship, no matter what kind. Yes I spoke about spending all day together nearly all the time, but the thing that mattered to us is that as long as I still had my own values and opinions and 🐸 had hers, then that's fine. The second either of us started not being able to think for themselves we probably would've distanced ourselves. (sometimes hard aspects Can help)

My Moon Opposes 🐸's Moon

Yeah yeah, this is the funniest aspect to see in some of my friends honestly. This one is less obvious with us, but if you pay attention you will notice it. I will want to always go out and do things and travel or explore or just be Moving, whereas 🐸 will want to be home. 🐸 is much more of an outdoorsy person than I am by far, but it's just that they don't like the heat or Always being outside, whereas I am perfectly fine with that haha. So while my energy level might be at 100, theres would maybe be at 15. Or I would be willing to do something "just cause" and they would disagree because wheres the reason. Just little stuff like that.

(I promise one of these days I'll put a positive aspect in here but like....it's more interesting to write about harsh aspects)

So! That's that. You can expect another one of these in like two days because another best friend is having a birthday LMAO. THIS one was made in one day because I just decided to do it while at work so maybe I'll plan next time and write it out but I don't really have time like that so :) oh well. Love you!! You know who you are!!!

[vanillann]

aphrodite and her son cupid (spencer reid x f.reader)

finally got to part two, also if you asked for a part two i tagged you!!

word count: 1.6k

aphrodite and her son cupid mastlist

“Spence, just call.”

Spencer, JJ, and Morgan sat around Spencer's desk in the bullpen with Spencer's phone in the middle of the desk. The lockscreen of the Doctor Who cast that Penelope had picked out forever ago was one but the screen was clear of notifications.

“I can’t.”

“You can Pretty Ricky,” Morgan clapped down on Spencer's shoulder, giving a pearly white smile while trying to get him to pick up the phone.

“I can’t, it’s been three week since she gave it to me and statically-”

“No static, just call,” JJ pushed the phone slightly, giving a sweet smile that would have worked if Spencer nerves weren’t so highl.

“I-I can’t JJ,” he voice switched, saddened from the fact of everything slowly getting to him.

JJ looked to Morgan, her plan was falling apart and all she had left was Henry's plan, which she knew wouldn’t work but it’s all she had left.

“Okay Spence the topic is dropped, how about you come to dinner tonight with Will, Henry, and I?”

Spencer would never pass up dinner with Henry, never in a million years.

“Sure, where are we eating,” Spencer dared looked at his phone one last time before he looked back at JJ.

“It’s a nice Thai food restaurant about 20 from my place.”

*

The lighting was beautiful, dimmed down and little lights hung everywhere. Spencer definitely had never been in a Thai food restaurant this nice before, but he didn’t eat out much anyways.

“Jareau,” JJ smiled at the host, looking to Spencer to make sure he wasn’t looking, before leaning over to whisper to the woman's ear.

Henry was about to jump out his shoes out of excitement, this was his plan after all. He was hoping his Uncle Spencer would make it easy for him, I mean come on who doesn’t call the pretty lady, but he was prepared for this.

“Right this way,” the sweet lady, who couldn’t stop smiling at JJ, carried them to the back room with the extra seats. Once they pulled back the beautiful golden curtain, Spencer felt he was going to be sick.

There sat Ms. (L/N), her hair in the perfect arrangement, a beautiful black sweater sat on her shoulder with a black and pink floral skirt at her waist.

Spencer Reid didn’t get speechless often, Will knew that.

Suddenly a small stack of menus fell to the floor, Spencer wasn’t paying good attention as we see. This bought all eyes, yes I mean all, to Spencer as he nervously tried to pick up the menus that covered the floor now.

Two delicate hands reached for a stray menu, smiling as she handed it back to the good doctor. Henry was jumping in his seat, a bright smile on his face as Spence nervously looked up at the sweet teacher.

“Ms. (L/N),” Spencer was shocked his voice was clear.

“Doctor Reid,” she smiled down at the ground, itching behind her ear as if she was embarrassed.

Will thought he was better at profilings her than Spencer was at this point.

“W-what uhm, what are you doing here?”

“I come here everyone on the first Saturday of the month,” he spoke gently, the two slowly standing up full once the menus were back in their rightful places.

“Oh,” his words trailed off, looking over at JJ who sat with her family, at a completely full table. The only other empty table in the backroom was the extra seat across from Ms. (L/N).

He was going to cry, like sob cry from embarrassment at this rate.

“I-uhm, I think JJ must have forgotten I was joining them tonight, I suppose I should head out,” time to make a run for it.

“You can eat with me.”

Why did Spencer have to like incredibly nice people?

It was almost annoying how he felt he could never say no to her. It got so bad Spencer hasn’t come within 100 miles of the school since parent day.

“Are you sure?”

When (Y/N) nodded her head, JJ and Will fist bumped under the table. Henry boucher in his seat as Spencer made his way across from Ms. (L/N).

His plan was going just how he wanted it.

“How have you’ve been Doc?”

Spencer smiled at the nickname, one he missed more than on thought possible. It was odd, attaching the nickname to her but it felt weird when Garcia called him that last week.

“I’ve been busy, nothing new I suppose, You?”

He didn’t lie, he would never lie to her if he could help it, he just overplayed how busy he was.

“Good, the kids keep young,” she looked down to her menu, looking up at Spencer before frowning.

“You didn’t grab a menu for yourself?”

Spencer looked at his placement, everything but a menu was in his sight. How does one forget the very thing he knocked down? Maybe it was other things to be focused on, but Spencer wasn’t spilling that yet.

“Here,” Ms. (L/N) picked up her chair, moving it to the other side of the round table beside Spence and held the menu out for both to read.

She could have called for a waiter, sure, but it was just nicer to offer. Yeah that was the only reason. She definitely wasn’t making a move on the sweet attractive Doctor that has ignored her very sad attempt at flirting.

Spencer smiled, looking over the menu held in her multi-color painted nails, ones the kid must have paint with how sloppy they look.

“What do you normally get?”

“The Mango Salad, it’s a personal favorite,” she looked to her right,smiling at Spencer as he himself quickly looked over the menu. She liked the way when he read his jaw locked slightly, he was so focused he didn’t even think to move it.

“Are you both ready to order?”

The two looked up, eyes wide as the waitress stood with a sweet smile as a notepad waiting for the order.

“I believe so.”

*

(Y/N) let her napkin fall to her plate, little giggles falling from her lips and she laughed at Spencer's sour face.

“Definitely don’t mix them too,” Spencer took a sip of his water, ignoring the way her laugh made him want to do it again just for her.

“I told you so.”

It was true, she made very clear the two wouldn’t mix but he thought best to try it before you brush it off.

He’d definitely brush it off next time.

JJ and Will kept a close eye on the two, enjoying the family dinner and the smile Spencer had tattooed to his face.

“I wish he could’ve just called her, it’d been so much easier,” JJ spoke to Will as she ate the last bit of her soup. She was pretty sure Spencer forgot he even came in with them.

“Yeah, me too doll.”

Will was proud of how well JJ and Henry were doing with this plan, almost scary how good they worked together.

Henry jumped in his seat, prepared to get in the car and hear his favorite profiler, next to his mom, talk about the crush he has on his teacher.

It wasn’t so much to ask, Spencer to be happy, but the universe apparently decided against it. Henry was mad at the universe for that, he knew his Godfather didn’t deserve that.

Meanwhile back to the small table across the room, Spencer was preparing to leave the sweet lady, watching JJ slowly pick up her coat from across the room.

“I’m glad I could speak with you again.”

This was (Y/N) sad way of telling him to call, please God for him to just call her.

“Me too, sorry about not calling,” he did feel bad, but he wasn’t as confident as Morgan with this stuff, he didn’t think he could handle her voice that close to his ear in honesty.

“It’s fine, you’re busy I get it.”

She smiled as he stood up, slowly placing his coat back over his shoulder as Henry came skipping over to the table, smiling at his favorite teacher.

“Hiya Henry,” Ms. (L/N) reached out and fixed Henry's button on his shirt, something that made Spencer panic. She was perfect, he was sure of that.

“HI Ms. (L/N),” his voice was high and excited, as usual when things went as planned.

Spencer didn’t waste time, waving at (Y/N) and goofy smile on his face as he slowly exited the restaurant after JJ and Will, Henry never leaving his side, The boy bouncing on his feet until he was buckled in the backseat beside Spencer.

“So...” JJ trailed off, turning to look at Spencer from the passenger seat of the car.

“So?”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling as he imagined the look on your face when you found it.

“How was it?”

“Nice, I suppose.”

Suddenly the plan was falling through.

“Are you going to call?”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling she’ll call first.”

*

(Y/N) unlocked the door to her apartment, tired as she let her bag fall on the light blue kitchen counter.

She slipped her flats off, turning back to her bag to find her phone so she could call her mother. A small slip of paper looked to be almost tapped to the front, folded with god knows what.

(Y/N) slowly removed the paper, un-folding the paper to the note that was left.

I’m sorry I didn’t call, but maybe you could keep me in check

(703)-555-9816

She felt her teeth run over her bottom lip, unlocking her phone and opening the text message app. She punched in the numbers, smiling as she typed out the text.

*

Spencer was about to get out of JJ car when his phone dung, Without thinking he fished it out and smiled at the contact pop up.

I’m not calling first, but maybe a text couldn’t hurt.

JJ, Will, and Henry didn’t need to ask who the text was from.

how do we feel about this story??

criminal minds tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine​ @m-n-m @aquarius-pisces-rose @victomizedbyreginageorge @avaxreid​ @erinxneil​

spencer reid tag list:

@writtenbywolfie​

aphrodite and her son cupid tag list:

@hypotheticalforest​ @bobo-bush @eternalharry​ @friendlyweirdobaby​

[smndragon]

Hi! I hope it's not rude of me to ask you something again but when you have the time and energy I'd love one of your readings? I'm Scorpio Sun in 9th, Pisces Moon and Pisces Rising. Please let me know if you need more placements or background info if you choose to read for me. Thank you so much! :)

2 more down let's go!!!! Sorry I couldn't get to you sooner than intended!

Hm, Scorpio sun (getting a few of you today), Pisces moon, and Pisces rising.

Right off the bat I see the double Pisces is probably strong in a way. They are both head strong against common belief and their natures will definitely clash against each other when decision making is due. They rebel to create difference in almost everything they do, spotting out the truth and the lies. Finding what's right and what's wrong. They're seen as the more easy judges in a court. I feel with these you let some people bind you down but you would never accept things seen as wrong being done to anyone. Sometimes with the Pisces moon they wish to be more sincere and honest. The Pisces ascendant wants to be fair and even. The moon allows people to step on them anytime, the ascendant refuses to let it happen to others. Hard to explain but it's a strong energy.

Since we're already talking of them I believe they live together. A cold stairwell that leads to a warm water and ice palace. Formed together as if they are siblings or twins, they each hold items of judgment. A sword for traitors (weird) in the hand of the ascendant and a gavel in the moon's. Both as blue as the sky reflecting on clear oceans. Their eyes are slitted and unchanging on the ascendants side. Wide with stamina and visions in the moon. Their aura is as cold as ice, snow falls from the walls and down the halls. Sculptures of ice fugues seen in lore and myths. There's nothing left here for me moving on. Back to say they may be placed in the chest, legs, or forehead. If it is in the forehead there may be problems with headaches or Brian freeze with colder substances.

Scorpio sun, the sun is harsh with heat. Sending vibrations of it down people's spines. "touch me" it calls. Always wanting from it's guests. I see an in like place with a place outside made for selling and trading. "Give me your hand" "give me your eye" "give me your warmth" the Scorpio sun takes the form of a swindler. A man only known to tricks and bargaining. Trust the soul tells me. Trust this man is true to his word. The aura is a murky brown and orange, green radiating in sun flags. Taking my hand and placing coins and seemingly real eyes in it. I know it was right. These eyes will guide me. I don't know where but somewhere. (I feel this was very short and I apologize for that please feel free to ask for more if you would like) placements could be in the thighs or fingertips. With fingers I believe it helps you get out of tricky situations. I don't know just reminds me.

Characteristics: blond or brown hair? Possible red mixes. Long stares and dry laughs. I love the smells, chlorine like or clean. The look of belonging in the new fear street movies (recommend they were good) you make others burst with their own unique comedy. Offering jokes. I don't believe you're skinny but you aren't overweight either. Possibly chubby around the stomach or arms. Your style may be dress like or skirts with bright colors or plain. Always matching except on Sundays and chill days. I feel that it would put you off if you didn't match a bit💀 possible problems with fixation and eyesight. Scorpios are smart and well but they may have eye problems in life. I feel the clothing wasn't right but we'll roll with it. You shit is either done up or plainly down. People adore your look of life, you seem as though the very first breath on earth was wonderful.

Zodiac influence through other people: other Scorpios, Capricorn moon, Venus, mars, Taurus suns and moons, some bit Sagittarius rising

Future soulmate/relationship: (if you're taken ignore mostly) your relationship reminds me of soft baked goods. Soft on both the in and outside. You guys are a power couple, sticking up for each other and making all kinda of trips and fun. You may meet at festivals, places with bright lighting, at the back of a bar, or in unconventional places. They will offer a hand or a drink, possible snack to eat. They'll worry if you need to call someone maybe? I hear that a bit. When you guys start the relationship it took about a 3-5 months to decide. Texting and going out refusing to say you guys were together when made fun of by friends. This is a lasting love, the 50s and 60s originals. Either that or a completely chaotic life. If you think of having kids they will be little trouble makers definitely, your gonna have to put on your parent pants heavy duty.

Houses: the 9th house seems to make it the same as a previous post to my on someone who also had that I believe. There may be conflict when you were younger with how people wanted you to act and think to how you wanted to or do now.

[jjyusmile]

muse on film | lee juyeon

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ meltingjukyu’s spooky season ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

pairing: filmstudent!juyeon x {gender neutral} reader!

words: 1,696

notes: this was requested by my writing inspo @juyeonzz​​ ♥

warning: slight jump scare for reader! 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

how did you end up here?

standing in juyeon’s bathroom with both hands attempting to open your eyelid wide enough to get the lens to catch in the mirror. with the make-up scattered across the surface by the sink, it was your fifth attempt to get your eyes to change from the original shade to a deep gold. the shadows that lined your eyes made the process much harder as you attempted not to smudge the masterpiece that juyeon had shaded moments before.

huffing, you placed the lens back into its pot and looked at yourself in the mirror with your palms gripping the edge of the sink. why did he choose you to be his muse? you weren’t photogenic by any means.

gazing at your reflection, you took in the black liner smudged under your eyes by juyeon’s handy work. he texted you after class if you could help him out with his photography project for the fall midterm. the concept was the alternate shadows that lurk behind us; you had already shot your mundane pictures, next came you as the shadows that juyeon would edit for his portfolio.

the knock at the door followed by a murmur of your name drew you out of your daydreaming. “hey- uh. are you okay?”

his soft voice echoed through the wood as he began to turn the handle to his bathroom to make a slight crack in the door to check you were okay. his palm wrapped around the door as his head peaked through, his blonde hair flopping over his eyes in an endearing way that made your heart swell.

the soft smile that settled on his lips made you feel more at ease. it had always been like that with him – the boy that conveniently sat beside you at lunch and introduced you to his friends during the first week at school. the one who made you feel welcome when you didn’t quite fit in with the others.

“um, yeah. I just can’t get the lens to stay in place…” you trailed off, hoping he would catch onto your subtle cry for help, a sheepish look on your face.

with that, he pushed his way further into the small bathroom and stood infront of you inspecting the lens that he had lifted from the surface. humming in thought, he shifted awkwardly on the spot at you stared at the lens case – would you find it weird? he pondered.

“wou-“

“could you help me put them in?” your eyes were more puppy-like than intended, completely juxtaposing the idea of turning you into a shadow. he exhaled in relaxation as you voiced the thoughts that whirled through his mind.

he smiled the juyeon smile and you hoped he wouldn’t hear your heart do a somersault in place as he stepped a little closer to you. as he breached 6 ft he made your height look mediocre. you titled your head upwards in instinct as he carefully placed one of the golden orbit contacts on his ring finger in preparation.

without thinking, he inched slightly closer so that his face was hovering just above your own. as you looked up, you noticed the way his eyes twinkled in the orange haze that emited from the bathroom light above you. but he was solely focused on the lens itself, he barely noticed that you hadn’t looked away.

he brought his left hand to your cheek with his thumb grazing your cheekbone, holding your head still for a swift placement of the lens. his breathing remained calm as he focused on trying not to hurt you, with a light exhaling that fanned over your forehead. you felt an odd sense of comfort as his thumb absentmindedly brushed against your cheekbone.

he pulled away all too quickly once he had fixed one lens to which you jumped away trying not to get caught red handed. the second lens went slightly smoother than the first; although in a similar position, he got the hang of it quickly speeding up the process.

“there you go,” he chuckled as you blinked rapidly as the orbs of gold settled in pleasantly. he found himself staring at you distractedly as his gaze brushed over your features; the make-up he had brushed against your delicate features had sharpened lines making you appear less human and more fae. the subtle glimmer that came naturally to the lenses had turned you into the mythical fairie he had imagined for his project. 

you were the perfect muse.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

you had followed juyeon out of his back garden and over the flattened wire fence that sat behind his apartment. trailing along the path that led into a wooded area, the sun had set long ago, leaving an eerie darkness in its wake. juyeon didn’t seem phased by your sudden rigidity as he set up his equipment by the willow tree. that told you he had been out here plenty of times before in preparation for this shoot.

you sat idle under the tree with your pleather coated legs sprawled out in front of you awkwardly. the wind blew in a light breeze, dragging small leaves from the tree toward the floor, surrounding the floor around you in a feathers coat of grey.

“perfect,” he muttered to himself as he finished setting up the tripod, so quietly that you almost missed it. the subtle click of the shutter told you he was taking a few practice shots to get the right frame.

as you waited instruction from your very handsomely awkward looking photographer, you blew air up toward your hair as the wind knocked a few strands out of place. you hadn’t noticed the thumping footsteps from juyeon’s boots as he wandered toward you, startling you as he bend down to brush the strands away with his finger.

“don’t move,” he whispered, his eyes locking with your own and his fingertips lingering against your temple. “you’re right where I want you.”

the pounding in your chest not quite differentiating the double-meaning.

almost an hour later, as your confidence shone more, juyeon was taking the final pictures for his portfolio. the night had fallen into a quiet. sifting through the display on his camera, juyeon smiled shyly to himself as he noticed the way the lenses accentuated each of your perfect features.

clearing away his equipment, wrapping up a wire for one of his studio lights, he turned to you and noticed how absentminded you had become staring up through the eerie branches of the trees and into the night sky. a cheeky plan came to mind and he snuck behind the tree without you looking.

as you began to focus more on your surroundings, you gazed at the open space around you, the forest floor scattered with wilting leaves and shrubs. you eyed the camera equipment that sat beside the tree and looked around to find its owner. a gust of wind flittered through your surroundings and over your spine in a chilling sensation. you wrapped your arms around yourself in a protect manner to protect you from the gruesome wind and the eerie darkness that encircled you. where is he?

a sharp snap of a branch forced you to whip round on the spot. what was more frightening was the hooded figure that stood unmoving in your line of sight. a shriek left your lips as you backed into the tree behind you to put some distance between you and the shadow standing in front of you. visibly shaking, you reached for your phone in your pocket in an attempt to call juyeon but the figure got to you first.

they reached out to latch onto your wrist swiftly before you got to your phone and brought it to their chest. “hey- hey! it’s just me!”

the soothing voice filled your ears as shock rushed over your features. your wide eyes accentuated by the glowing gold of the lenses – juyeon was mesmerised by many aspects of this situation. your doe eyes that glistened under the moonlight, your pounding heart that beat against your hands that clutched his large one between your chests, the proximity so close that he could see the delicate liner that flickered over your face.

“it’s just me,” he repeated in a whisper. your breathing began to even out as you stared into his eyes, the comfort overwhelming during such an eerie situation. his pointed nose becoming more recognisable under the shadow of his hood; his plump lips forming a pout at the realisation that he really did scare you.

you hummed in question, eyebrows furrowing together. his right hand dropped the wire to the ground and brought his palm to caress your cheek, murmuring softly- “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

his eyes trailed to your hands that clenched his in desperation for comfort. without realising, you nuzzled your faces against his palm, bringing his attention back to the golden hue of your irises as they widened in realisation. an overwhelming protection washed over juyeon in the moment he looked back into your eyes as he brought his lips to graze against your forehead; the movement alone charging enough warmth to spread throughout your body.

he pulled away reluctantly and removed his palm from your clasp, immediately intertwining his fingers with your own protectively. “let’s get you inside, I think that’s enough horror for the night.”

he packed up the rest of his equipment with great difficulty, not once letting go of your hand as you clutched to it for dear life – any sharp sound or movement around you had you inching closer to his side.

the two of you wandered inside his apartment building as a comfortable silence settled in. changing into a pair of his sweats and removing the night’s alter ego, you began to relax and settle into the sofa. despite the events of the last twenty minutes, as you inched closer to his side, you began to realise that being someone’s muse wasn’t so bad after all - especially if that man was standing right in front of you with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand with a shy smile gracing his lips.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. (There eventually be smut, but this part is mostly fluff.)

You had been seeing each other for about three weeks. You still couldn’t believe you had agreed to meeting someone on a blind date. But you were so sick of the online dating scene, so when your good friend Niall from work told you he had a single friend, you jumped at the chance.

He didn’t have any social media, there was an Instagram with his name, but no photos of him. Only pictures he had taken. He was a photographer, and a good one at that. Niall had roomed with him during their undergrad, and stayed mates after graduation. You had wondered why he never mentioned this single friend before.

“Well, after your last break up, I honestly didn’t think you’d ever want to look at another man.” He shyly told you in the break room one day.

It was true, your last break up was a really bad one. It was barely even a break up though because you two were barely dating. You had sex with him rather quick, and after him blowing you off two separate times, he ended things over a text. This sent you into a rather depressive episode. You vowed to not jump into bed with a guy quite so quickly ever again, even if you really wanted to.

You begged Niall to see a picture of him, but he said no. You tried to snoop around Niall’s Facebook page, but you couldn’t be certain of who he was. All you knew was his name: Harry Styles. Niall wouldn’t even give you his number to arrange the date.

“I’ll set everything up for the both of ya, and if it goes well then you can both take it from there.”

You were happy to have a best friend at work. Your days would be boring without each other.  You and Niall were two of the younger people in your office, and you both felt it was necessary to stick together.

“What are you doing this Saturday night?” He asked you Wednesday morning, handing you a coffee. You each took turns buying coffee for the other. Today was his turn.

“Um, I think I was just going to binge watch something on Netflix. Why?”

“Harry was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner.”

“Oh he was?” You raise an eyebrow, and take a sip of your coffee.

“Yes, well I nudged him a little, but I’ve told him a lot about you and he’s very interested.” You blush at the thought.

“Well, I’m definitely free for dinner. Where was he thinking?”

“You’re both vegetarian, well, he’s a vegan actually, but he knows of this really great tapas place that has a lot of meatless options.”

“Wow, vegan. I like tapas so that works for me. What time?”

“Seven. I’ll text you the name of the place so you can look it up.”

“Thanks, this should be fun.” You smile at your friend.

Friday night after work, you decide to do a little shopping. After researching the restaurant, you knew you needed something a little nicer to wear, and you didn’t feel like anything in your closet would make a lasting impression. You drove out to the mall, cursing at yourself for not just going Saturday morning. The parking was crazy, and it felt like everyone and their brother was there. You stumbled into the Macy’s and looked around at their cocktail dresses. You wanted something to accentuate your best features, but also wanted to leave a little mystery. You settle on a basic, black dress. It was form fitting, and hugged just above the midpoint of your thighs. It had short, capped sleeves, and the neckline came just high enough to cover most of your cleavage. It was perfect. You knew you had shoes to match at home, so you didn’t waste any more time at the mall.

Saturday morning, you scrolled through countless hair and makeup tutorials on YouTube trying to find the one that suited you most. After getting frustrated, you settled on your go to hair style. You curled your hair, and waited a couple of hours to brush it out. You then had perfect waves, which almost looked natural. About an hour before you needed to leave, you put your makeup on. You decided to go with a subtle purple to make your green eyes pop, and swept some liquid eye liner over it. You contoured your face (something you had gotten quite good at), and then put your new black dress on. Happy with your appearance, you slide on some purple some nude, strappy heels, and headed out.

As you got closer to the restaurant, you grew nervous. You texted Niall to tell him it was silly you’d be walking into a place, looking for someone you had never met. He asked you what you were wearing, and he would tell Harry to look for you. But what if you got there first? What if he never shows up? How dare he! You thought. You shook the thought from your head and drove up to the restaurant. You circled around back where the parking was. You smoothed out your dress, praying it hadn’t wrinkled, before you walked in. Taking a deep breath, you looked around.

The place was even nicer in person. There was a really big bar, and the dining area looked so elegant. He must do well for himself if he likes this place. Before the hostess could greet you, you saw a somewhat familiar face walking towards you, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

“(y/n)?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, are you Harry?”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you.” He puts an awkward hand out to shake, and you take it just as awkwardly. “That was weird.” He says in a laugh. “I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to hug you.” You runs a hand through his hair.

“No, no, it was very polite. It’s nice to meet you too. You found me pretty quick.” You smiled at him.

“Niall had just texted me explaining what you were wearing. I happened to look up, and there you were.” He smiled back. That smile…you just remembered him.

“Did you happen to go to Niall’s holiday party last year?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Um, yeah. Were you there too?”

“Yes, I was gonna say you looked familiar. I don’t think we properly spoke to each other there.”

“Definitely not, I would’ve remembered you if we had.” You feel your cheeks flush and let out a simple laugh. “Well, our table should be ready. Let me check with the hostess.”

Harry walks over to the woman, who hands two menus to one of the waiters. He says you can follow him. Harry gestures to let you go first. You wondered if it was so he could check you out, but he didn’t seem like the type. He looked so handsome. His hair was short, but not too short that you couldn’t make out his curls. His eyes were green like yours, and he was wearing a pair of blue dress pants with a white button up shirt.

As you both sat down at your table for two, you noticed his nails were painted. How you didn’t notice earlier when you shook his hand, you weren’t sure. Every other nail was this deep orange, and the other a navy blue. You smiled at it. At least he was the type of guy to take care of his nails. He had a few rings on as well, and you could see a couple of tattoos. You assumed he had a sleeve since you couldn’t see the rest of the anchor on his wrist. After a moment you heard him couch, and you realized you were staring. Your eyes darted up to his.

“Sorry, I was just admiring your, um, rings.” Pointing to the H and S.

“Oh, thanks, they were a gift from my mum a few years back.” His accent was already so intoxicating. Now you figured out how him and Niall got roomed together, they both must’ve been international students. “You were looking at my nails too?” Your face feels hot, and you feel yourself sweat a little. “It’s alright, a lot of people stare.”

“No, it wasn’t staring, necessarily. I was admiring it as well. I think more men should get their nails done. It looks nice. I love getting mine done, see?” You put your hand out, and show him your black nails. “I get the shellac so they last longer, totally worth it.” He smiles at you. “How long have you been painting them for?”

“Oh god, years. I mostly started out with black, but then I got bored with it. I felt like I was only doing that color because it ‘masculine’.” He holds up air quotes at the word. “Then I started experimenting with more vibrant colors. I like doing pink and blue a lot, but this also suits me. Then I started getting creative with the placement of the colors.”

“I’ll do an accent nail once in a while myself, but I do like the style of every other color. Maybe I’ll try it some time.”

“I know it doesn’t look super professional, but since I’m not in an office I can kind of do what I want.” He shrugs.

“Right, you’re a photographer?”

“Mhm. Mostly for, like, outdoors type of things. I really like taking pictures at night. But I’ll also do a little freelance work for people who want a photoshoot. I usually clean up good during the wedding season.”

You got so lost in conversation, you nearly forgot you were at a restaurant. A waitress comes over, frantically, and out of breath.

“Hi folks, so sorry for the wait. We got slammed all at once.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” You beamed at her. Remembering your time in the food service industry.

“Can I start you two off with any drinks?” You look at each other, and he gestures for you to go first.

“Um, could I please have a vodka tonic, with titos, and lime?” He gives you a surprised smirk, probably expecting you to have just ordered a glass of wine.

“Sure thing, and for you sir?”

“I’ll have the same as her, please.” The waitress nods, and walks away.

“I take it that’s your drink?”

“Yeah, I’m not really a wine with dinner kind of gal.” The strange thing was, any time you had wine with dinner, you always got drunk. Vodka, however, you didn’t feel as much. You felt sager having that. “You like vodka too?”

“Once in a while, it tastes good with whatever you eat.”

“We should look at the menu and figure out what dishes we want so it’s easier for her when she comes back. I feel bad she was so out of breath coming over here.”

“Good idea.”

The waitress comes back with your drinks, and takes your order. You both had decides on some flat bread with arugula and goat cheese. It wasn’t vegan, but Harry didn’t mind. You also ordered some roasted cauliflower that came with a dipping sauce.

“How long have you been a vegetarian for?” He asks you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Um, a little over a year. I wouldn’t necessarily call it being a vegetarian, I just don’t eat meat.”

“What made you want to stop eating meat?”

“Well, it just didn’t make me feel good. My doctor also told me to straight up lay off the red meat. I got sick of eating chicken and fish, and if I’m being honest the thought of eating it just started to make me not feel good. I do still enjoy the smell of a fresh steak on the grill.”

“So you did it out of health instead of ethics?”

“Yup. I don’t have much dairy either. I love cheese so I keep that in my diet, but I have up milk a long time ago. I stick to coconut milk mostly if I need my fix. What made you go vegan?”

“Health benefits, I suppose. I was also taking a lot of pictures of animals for this one magazine and it just made it hard to even eat fish. I think it’s been five years now.”

“Good for you, that’s incredible.” You take sip of your drink, and notice the bar tender was a little heavy handed with the vodka.

“So, you met Niall at work right?”

“Mhm.”

“I know what he does there, but what do you do?”

“I’m on our marketing team, with him. He and I tag team a lot of projects. I work more with our digital pieces. I photopshop images, and edit video.”

“What made you go into that?”

“Well, when I was younger I wanted to be a film maker, but I fell in love with marketing, and put the film making on the back burner. I still write now and then for fun.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say they loved marketing before.”

“Well, it’s not so much the marketing, it’s more how creating the right content can change someone’s point of view.”

A food runner brings your food to your table. You both put your napkins in your laps, and dig in.

“Mmm.” You lick your lips after taking a bit of the flatbread. “This is delicious. Great choice.”

“Thanks, I like coming here, there are just so many options.” You see him pick off most of the goat cheese, and feel a little guilty.

“We didn’t need to get this type of flatbread. I feel terrible you can’t fully enjoy it.”

“It’s no big deal really, I can eat everything else on it.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

The waitress comes over to check on you.

“Can I get you both another drink?”

“I’ll have another, yeah. (y/n)?”

“Um, sure, that would be great.” You promised yourself you’d nurse the next one.

“Tell me about Niall in college, I’m dying to know what he was like.”

“Oh, he was rambunctious. Lad never had any clothes on, then again, neither did I.” You nearly choke on your drink. “I think that’s why we got on so well, neither of us liked wearing more than our trousers.”

“Were you both international students?”

“Yup, but we didn’t room together until our second year. We had met at one of the international student events, and we clicked. They made us room with other students from the states to get a more well-rounded experience.” He shrugs. “I remember this one time he came with me to get a tattoo, and he nearly pissed himself.” He lets out a laugh.

“Niall doesn’t have any tattoos.” You furrow your eyebrows and smile.

“No, he definitely does not. He was being a good mate and came with me when I got my first really big one. I have a butterfly here.” He puts his palm flat just under his breast plate.

“What made you want to get a butterfly?”

“Don’t know, I just like the way they look. They have an odd beauty to them.” You felt like you could listen to him talk all night. But your trance was broken when your waitress brought the check over. She told you no rush, but you knew how these things went. You knew she probably needed to get the table turned soon.

You both reached for the check, but Harry snatched it away. He gave you a “get real” kind of look, took his wallet out, and set his credit card inside the small plastic flap, leaving the check on the edge of the table.

“At least let me pay the tip.”

“Sorry, can’t letcha do that, love. Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me would it?” Did he just call you love? It was something Niall did too, but not until he really got to know you. Maybe Harry’s alcohol was starting to hit him, the way it was hitting you. Maybe he just felt relaxed around you.

“I thought you were more progressive than that?” You said jokingly.

“Oh, I am. But I also abide by the rules that whoever asked who out should pay.”

“Okay, that’s a pretty respectable rule, I’ll give you that.”

The waitress sweeps by the table to grab the credit card, and is back in minutes. Harry takes out some cash from his wallet, and signs the slip of paper.

“Thank you.” You say to him.

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles back. “Shall we?” He gets up first, and extends a hand to you to help you up. “Did you park out back?”

“Yup.” You really didn’t want the night to end yet. You look at your watch and it’s only almost nine.

“Great, so did I.”

He walks closely next to you on your wat to the parking lot.

“That’s me.” You point to your car. He walks you over to it, and you lean against your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.” You say looking down at your shoes, then back up at him.

“Me too.” He looks away for second, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at you again. “Would it be alright to ask for your number?”

“Sure.” You reach into your purse and grab your cell phone. You hand it to him. “Feel free to just text yourself.” He smiles, and takes your phone, putting his number in.

“So, I take it you’d like to do this again?”

“Definitely.” He hands you back your phone, and put it back in your purse. In a bold move, you lean forward and give him a slight peck on the cheek. “Talk to you soon.”

You both blush, he smiles and lets out a nervous laugh. He opens your car door for you.

“Have a good rest of your evening.” He says to you.

“Same to you.”

You drive off, feeling your heart flutter. It was the perfect date. You were proud of yourself. Normally would have tried to make out with a man that attractive, but you showed wonderful restraint. You couldn’t wait for him to get in touch with you again.  

[izzielizzie]

Hi! Could you write one shot about Maeve and Bronwyn's talk after the explosion when they're back home for example: like she tells her about the game, Luis and tries to calm her down? Hope you like the idea!

yes! oouin had so much to unpack in terms of Maeve and her development so i really like this idea. enjoy!

“The wedding was so pretty,” Bronwyn says as we climb up the stairs to our rooms. It’s weird, in a way, to be here in my home with my sister wearing a fancy dress and heels that are giving me blisters when just twenty four hours ago, Knox and I were trying to figure out who Jared was.

“Yeah,” I agree absentmindedly. My phone is buzzing in my hand, and I know without looking down at it that it’s Luis. 

“Is that Luis?” Bronwyn asks as we reach the second floor.

“Yeah, probably.”

Bronwyn raises her eyebrows at me. “Your boyfriend?”

“We’re not five!” I call after her as we branch off to our separate rooms. I can hear her laughing from across the hall. 

I glance at my phone as I push open the door to my room. Just as I predicted, a text from Luis flashes my screen. Are you okay? Luis has been asking me this periodically, just to make sure, and while it’s so damn sweet, I wish I knew how to answer. Because honestly? I’m not. Too much has happened and I don’t know how to unpack it. Or if I even can. 

I look up and see my room, which has all the clothes from my closet strewn everywhere: on top of my desk, my chair, my window seat, my dresser, my bed, and even the rug on my floor. I smile a little at the memory of my mother and sister sitting in my room, searching my closet for wedding-appropriate dresses and slowly reclaiming clothes I had stolen from them. That feels like a million years ago, and a wave of exhaustion that had rolled past me last night hits me, and my head is pounding as I collapse on my bed, on top of my dad’s old Yale Soccer hoodie and my jeans that have so many patches on them they look like a cloth store advertisement. 

My head just misses the pillow, and my phone slides out of my grasp, thudding onto the ground. “Maeve?” Bronwyn calls. I don’t respond. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep. I hear Bronwyn call my name again. I don’t respond, and a moment later my sister is barging into my room, crouching in front of me and shaking my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I nod through my headache. Bronwyn looks relieved. She looks around my room for a moment, picks my phone up, places it on my side table, and pushes away a pile of shorts to sit on the bed next to me. She strokes my hair gently, like my mother did when I was younger and the chemo made me nauseous. I want to pull away from her and sleep, but I feel too cozy, especially when she pauses for a moment to pull my purple blanket out from under a pile of tank tops and drape it over me. She rolls me over and pulls the clothes out from under me, and I put my head on her lap. 

“Maevey, do you want to talk about anything?”

What I really want to do is sleep, cry, and maybe eat a pint of ice cream, not in that particular order, but talking with my sister has always had a calming effect on me, so I nod. 

Bronwyn strokes my hair thoughtfully before tentatively saying, “when did the texting game start?”

I make a noise in the back of my throat, and thankfully Bronwyn understands that I don’t want to start with that. “Okay, when did your nose start bleeding?”

I don’t respond. Bronwyn sighs, pauses, and asks me the question I know she’s been dying to ask me: “so when did you start dating Luis?”

“Two days ago,” I mumble. 

“I’m sorry honey, can you say that louder?”

I roll over until I’m looking directly above me. Bronwyn’s looking down at me, and the look on her face, half exasperation and half amusement, looks so much like Mom’s that I can’t help but laugh. Bronwyn smiles and subconsciously rubs at her face. “What?”

“Nothing, you just look like Mom.”

“Says you!”

The general consensus in our family is that I look exactly like my mother (if my mother had brown hair). I laugh, and I’m surprised at how good it feels. Bronwyn looks down at me with her sternest look and asks me about Luis again. 

“Two days ago.”

“That’s so cute Maeve. He’s nice.”

“Yeah, he is,” I say. I sound like a dreamy love sick teenager, and I’m surprised that Bronwyn hasn’t commented on it. “But…”

“But what?”

“I feel bad.”

“What, why?”

“I might have…” I trail off, not sure how to talk about Cooper’s game.

“You might have what?”

“Called him an airhead.”

“What!” Bronwyn explodes. Confrontation isn’t really my style. 

“Well, not ‘airhead’ specifically. More like a dudebro.”

Bronwyn shakes her head at me. “Why?”

“Because he was with Monica Hill and I was jealous and not thinking.”

“Clearly,” Bronwyn mumbles. Bronwyn doesn’t seem to understand that people can hear her when she mumbles. “Did he forgive you?” she asks out loud.

“Yeah, he did. But I don’t know. Maybe he just forgave me because I thought I was dying and everyone thought I was dying. Maybe he thought it would be unkind to be mad at a girl who might have cancer.”

A look of understanding flits across my sister’s face as she buries her fingers in my braided crown. “You’re worried that he doesn’t like you for you.”

I nod. “Yeah.” I love how my sister knows what I mean without me saying it. Bronwyn thinks for a moment as I shift, my dress becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I press my head against a hair pin and wince. I’d change but... I don’t have the energy. In her understanding older sister way, Bronwyn pulls me up so I’m sitting in her lap. She lets me slump against her shoulder as she undoes my intricate hair. 

“I think, Maevey,” Bronwyn says, continuing our conversation as she pulls hair pins out of my hair and places them on my side table. “That you’ve gotten it into your head that you’re unlovable.”

“Hey,” I protest. I’d argue that, but I don’t have the mental capacity and some part of me thinks that maybe... she’s right. I’d protested so hard when Phoebe and Addy told me Luis liked me, and when I left after our kiss, I didn’t really leave because I was awkward and uncomfortable. I just left because I didn’t want Luis to throw me to the side like he does with every other girl. So I did it first. When my mom says preventative measures are important, I don’t think she means it like that. 

“You have honey, don’t even try to argue.” Bronwyn pulls the last pin out of my hair and runs her fingers through it, letting the stands fall down to the small of my back. I lean back against her shoulder and she wraps her arms around my waist, rocking me back and forth. “But the thing is Maeve,” Bronwyn starts hesitantly. 

“Yeah?” I ask.

“I’ve been watching you, and Luis, for the past year. Cooper was the one who told me that Luis had a crush on you and I was going to tell him to leave you be but...”

“But?”

“But I’d never seen anyone look at someone the way Luis looked at you.” I don’t respond so my sister continues. “He always looked at you when he made a joke to see if you laughed. He was always the first one to smile at you when you entered a room. Maeve people spend their whole lives waiting for someone who choses them first. And, Maeve, you found your person and you weren’t even looking.”

I close my eyes. “Okay. But what about now? After all the stuff that happened? My history with Knox. My cancer. What if he doesn’t want that in his life?”

I feel Bronwyn tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Maeve, last night, Luis wouldn’t let go of you. I was watching him and...” Bronwyn trails off for a moment, finding her words. “You were his first priority. Even above himself. He loves you Maeve. And maybe you aren’t ready to love him back, that’s okay, but I think you should give him a chance. And more importantly, give yourself a chance. You are worth the world and then some, and it’s time you believe that.”

“Even if I don’t know which college I want to go to?” I ask. Bronwyn’s constant fear - for me and for Nate - means that we haven’t had the Get Your Life Back on Track and Fast conversation, but I can feel it coming.

“Even then,” Bronwyn says with such certainty that I open my eyes and sit up to look at her. She’s smiling at me a little.

“Do you mean that?” I ask, surprised.

“Of course I do. And I want to apologize.” Bronwyn puts her hands on either side of my head, the way Dad does when he’s proud of me. He’s done that a lot today. “I haven’t been fair to you.”

“No, Bronwyn, you-”

“I have Maeve,” Bronwyn says, interrupting me gently. “I left for college, and the only time I checked in with you was to make sure you were gearing up to do the same. I pestered you so much. No wonder you didn’t tell me about the nose bleeds.” I try to interrupt, but she keeps talking. “Maevey, you are my little sister. You mean the world to me. I was so scared that you were going to suffer, and I though that if you did the same thing as me, you wouldn’t. But that wasn’t true. And when you started building your life back together, I was afraid that you’d... do it wrong or something. It makes me sound so awful now, so I thought if you followed in my footsteps you’d be safe. But I forgot how strong you are. I’ve seen you fight for you life, and I didn’t realize that it made you strong in ways we can’t even imagine.” She’s crying now, and I think I am too. “And I’m sorry that I ever made you feel that you couldn’t talk to me. About any of this stuff. I’m going to try to be better.”

I think about all the people in the last few months who have stood at my side without me realizing: Knox, Phoebe, Nate, Luis, and Addy too. She was there, gently pushing me towards the person who will love me for as long as I let him. I realize, now, that I couldn’t have gotten through the last few weeks without them.

“I’m going to try to be better too,” I say, mimicking Bronwyn’s hand placement, my fingers in her curls. “I’m not going to push people I love away anymore.”

Bronwyn smiles at me, tears in her grey eyes and a strange look on her face.

“What?” I demand.

“You’re really beautiful.”

I smile. “You’re beautiful-er”

“Not a word.”

“I don’t care.” I say, pulling her into a fierce hug.

The next moment I wake tangled in clothes and wrapped in my sister’s arms. My phone is buzzing again and I have four missed texts, two from Luis, one from Nate, and one from Phoebe.

I read Nate’s first: where’s your sister?

Sleeping I respond, glancing at my sister’s face.

I wait to respond to Phoebe’s text about missing school this week, since I’m not sure what to say to her yet, so I look at the ones from Luis,

Morning Maeve

You okay?

I pause for a moment, thinking about everything I’ve still got to unpack and think about and accept, but for now, they don’t seem as daunting as they did last night.

Nearly, I type back.

[a-spectacle-in-the-morning]

“A Whole Lot Left to Lose” -- Rafael Barba

Summary: You slept over at Barba’s place after turning up the night before embarrassingly drunk. Now you have to deal with waking up in his bed, further workplace awkwardness, and serious arguments about coffee.

Notes: Follow up for this, which is a follow up for this. I’m still unwilling to admit this is becoming a series even though it definitely is turning into one. Catch me on the sixth part saying “a follow up for this, which is a follow up for this, which is a follow up for this…”

And sorry my posting has been so sporadic. School and life caught up to me and I had a nasty case of writer’s block.

--

You awake to mid-morning sunlight and unsettlingly soft sheets. For a sweet second your brain idles, still half asleep, and you relish in the softness of your unknown surroundings. Then your thoughts snap into focus. You’re in Barba’s bedroom, curled up in Barba’s bed, absolutely tangled in Barba’s sheets. And you’re still in last night's clothes. Incredible. Nothing adds to waking up with an increasingly pounding headache like remembering how you made an idiot of yourself in front of the guy you’re catching feelings for.

The analog alarm clock on the nightstand reads around 9:30 and you let out a sigh of relief. You’re not scheduled to go into work until noon, and for a brief moment you consider trying to apologize to Barba before you leave. But then a vague memory of stumbling through his living room and spinning like a toddler unexpectedly comes back to you. Sneaking out without confrontation is clearly the only option. 

The door to the room is slightly ajar and you lay silently for a second to listen for sounds of movement. All you hear are the faint sounds of morning traffic, so you force yourself out of Barba’s bed. You spot an acoustic guitar resting on a stand as you tiptoe across the floor. If you ever shake off the embarrassment of this whole ordeal you’ll have to ask him about it. 

When you get to the living room you find the couch oddly empty. You had assumed after Barba had given you the bed he would have slept out here. Curiosity outweighs caution, and you wander in search of his office. He said he had a lot of work to do last night, you had just assumed he would’ve been finished by now. There’s light coming from underneath a door near the front foyer and you risk cracking it open to peek inside. 

Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba, who you’re accustomed to witnessing completely decimate opposition in the courtroom while wearing stupidly expensive three piece suits, is asleep at his desk. An array of paperwork is splayed out beneath his head. You have a weird urge to step fully into his office to place a chaste kiss on his forehead or maybe wrap a blanket around his shoulders. You’ve clearly been watching too many rom-coms. Instead you just take a few more seconds to appreciate the sight in front of you then gently shut the door. 

When you get home you are instantly happy for the familiarity, but the couple of hours before your shift are not as relaxing as you’d hoped they would be. You try to catch a few more hours of sleep, but your bed doesn’t seem as comfortable as it usually is. You try to mindlessly watch something on your phone, but you keep checking to see if Barba has texted you. By the time you finally settle, make yourself a box of mac and cheese, and finish eating it’s time to head into work.

-

If there were to be an action figure for Barba it would come with about twenty pairs of suspenders and some form of a cup of coffee. Possibly a white mug, like the ones he uses with the machine in his office, or something disposable from a local coffee shop. Either way there is no way his favorite caffeinated drink would be in the kind of over-sized thermos you used to take to class with you in college. Bizarrely, that’s exactly what Barba’s currently carrying with him as he makes his way towards Liv’s office. 

Instead of striding past your desk like he usually does, Barba slows before fully passing you and stops. The hairs on the back of your neck raise and suddenly his hand is flat on your back; right between your shoulder blades. His fingers press just a bit deeper into your back and you realize that he’s leaning over you to place something on your desk. The thermos that caught your eye just a few seconds ago now sits between your computer and a newton’s cradle your dad got you as a graduation gift. 

Before you can look over at him or turn or even say thank you Barba’s hand is sliding off of you. His middle finger traces a line from the center of your back just below your neck, all the way off your shoulder. Intentionally or not the action sends goosebumps down your entire arm. You don’t realize you were holding your breath until you hear Liv’s office door shut and you let out a massive sigh.

The world around you returns to focus. God, when did it get so out of focus? And you immediately wish you were anywhere in the world than at your own desk. Carisi has the most dumbstruck look you’ve ever seen. You’re afraid his jaw might drop off if it dangles that low for much longer. And when you try to avert your gaze elsewhere you land on Amanda’s devilish grin. The two of you aren’t amazingly close, but you’ve gotten a few drinks together and without even telling her she’d picked up on the tension between you and Barba. You’d told her that even if he was into you you weren’t ready to dive into a relationship with him. He was a lot and you were busy.

But now Barba had walked straight up to your desk, touched you intimately enough, and handed you coffee like he knew you hadn’t slept well. Like he was the reason you hadn’t slept well. That’s what every other member of the SVU seemed to be thinking, at least. Except for Fin who looked to actually be falling asleep at his desk.You can’t blame him. You certainly could use a bit of unconsciousness yourself right now.

-

It’s nearing five and your thoughts are churning in your head. A massive storm is sloshing around up there and leaving you with absolutely no energy. You’re one of the last ones left; Sonny and Amanda having left for dinner about an hour ago. Fin packed up shortly before them and Liv shortly after him. Normally you would’ve finished your work before everyone else. Tonight the paperwork is taking twice as long to get through as normal. You want to blame it on your hangover, but the headache is nothing compared to the onslaught of distracting thoughts about Barba.

After reading each sentence you’re bombarded with an even lengthier montage of the ADA. You’re just getting the image of him in pajamas out of your brain when you remember the weight of his hand on your shoulder this morning. At this rate the thirty pages you have left to get through are going to take hours.

You would throw it in for the night and head home, but you’re afraid the distracting thoughts will get worse. And probably more graphic. With your focus completely shot and a whole lot left to lose you decide to head over to One Hogan Place. You make sure to grab the thermos before you leave.

-

“What the hell were you thinking Barba?” you remain surprisingly monotone as you practically slam the thermos onto his desk. 

Barba sits looking at you wide eyed for just a second before a little sly grin ghosts his face. You’d rushed over from the SVU, making sure to get here before Barba left. Your face is probably flushed from the cold and the slight jog you just did. The jog also got you a bit worked up, hence the aggressive placement of the thermos.

“That you would be hungover and need a pick me up?” Barba offers.

“You can’t do this kind of shit. People talk.”

Barba remains seated behind his desk with the smuggest look. He isn’t responding. Why isn’t he responding? He always has the wittiest comebacks and he’s just sitting there looking at you. You take a chance and make your way around to stand next to him. He doesn’t rise from his seat, but he swivels in his chair to face you.

“You don’t want them thinking we’re something we’re not, right?”

Barba laces his fingers together in his lap and leans back in his chair. “Let me make sure I have this right: you want me to be… meaner to you?”

“No, you-” you squint down at him. “Will you just shut up for a second?”

Barba’s smile grows, but he stays quiet.

“I couldn’t think straight because of you. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

“I think I have an idea-”

“Hey! I said zip it, counselor. You don’t have an idea. No idea. Because every five minutes it was back to you up here,” you tap at your temple for emphasis. “And then I’m finally focused enough to read a sentence or two in the unholy stack of paperwork in front of me, I glance up, and this,” you hold out both of your hands, palms upwards, and direct his gaze at the thermos, “this is sitting there.”

Barba’s smile has dropped. It’s been replaced by something unreadable. Wonder? Amusement? Confusion? Maybe a bit of annoyance? You can’t quite place it and it’s incredibly frustrating.

You let out a deep sigh and turn to lean against his desk. “Sorry. I’m not usually like this. I don’t make these grand” you wave your arms around, “whatever the hell this is…” 

Barba stands and moves to wait in front of you, but remains silent.

“Sorry for busting in here and verbally attacking you,” you shrug. “And for dumping this on you. And for probably making this uncomfortable. You know what? Maybe I should just leave and we can forget about all of this. Go back to whatever bizarre, semi-flirty thing we had going on before.”

Barba clears his throat, putting his hands into his jacket pockets. “Are you finished?”

You nod. 

“Can I speak now?”

You roll your eyes, but nod again.

Instead of making a counterargument he takes his hands back out of his pocket and steps closer to you. Then his hands are on either side of your hips pressing into the wood of his desk. Maybe this is his counterargument: being this close to him is otherworldly. Everything comes down to the green of his eyes and then his lips are on yours. Before you have more than a second to process what’s happening he’s pulled away again. 

He pats his desk once then steps back. “I think I have an idea.”

If you had asked yourself this morning, with your pounding headache and mountains of overwhelming embarrassment, how your day would end, kissing Rafael Barba would be the last thing you would’ve guessed. 

You stare at him for a few seconds, unable to breathe, then awkwardly say, “Sorry for making you sleep at your desk last night.”

Barba lets out a sheepish laugh. “You saw that, huh?”

“Happen often?” you glance over at the coffee machine, already knowing the answer.

“More than I’d like to admit.”

There’s a beat of silence. You glance up at the framed Harvard Law degree that you noticed on the first day you met him. Still ostentatious. 

“How about you make up for those drinks you owe me by taking me out to dinner?”

“Oh, so the coffee counts for nothing?” Barba jabs.

You reach out, emboldened by the kiss, and straighten out the lapel of his jacket. “Coffee is its own thing, Barba. This is about whiskey.”

“Ah, I see,” his gaze follows your hand as it drops from his chest. “It might take more than one dinner to make up for the tab you racked up last night.”

You squint at him, stepping away from his desk and towards the door. “If you’re gonna be a dick about it I’ll ask Carisi instead.”

Barba pushes his chair in and starts packing up his things. “Just give me a minute. Where do you want to go?”

--

I know I said there would be some smut with my next Barba fic, but I really wanted to continue this story and these two ain’t ready for it yet. It was enough work to get them to kiss, goddamn it. I’m thinking of continuing with at least one more part though, so high probability of smut adjacent stuff soon!

And apologies for the growing fixation on coffee in my fics. I’m not a huge caffeine addict, but I’ve recently been really missing my favorite coffee shop in one of the libraries on my campus. I can still remember the last dark roast I got days before classes were moved online…