#that’s exactly how pride month should be spent

[noburden]

was offline and missed your bday :( happy belated !!!!! i love you so !!!! update me on everything emewee RN⁉️

BETSY !!! hello i’ve missed you so much i literally checked ur account yesterday and i was like omg a month without betsy 😰 i was having withdrawals also THANK YOU !!! it’s okay i missed ur bday too and i agreed to sacrifice my first born child to make up for it ✊ love u more

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[jsprnt]

Alliance PT. 2 | Prince!Jude Bellingham

W/C: 3.058

A/C: so excited for this chapter! what do we think so far? 😌

part one

I lean back in the seat, which had been my late father's during the time he reigned as King.

The dark leather underneath my elbows had gotten damaged through the years. The dents and tears through the stitch work a testament to the hours of time my father had spent in his study.

Dedicating his life to our kingdom, and fulfilling his duty until his last breath.

Pride and encouragement bubbled up in my chest, emphasizing the heavy weight of my current position and responsibilities on my shoulders.

I had been reading up on my future wife, the papers spread over my dark, wooden desk. Edges curling up due to the amount of times I had stuffed them into the cabinet, only to pace around and grab them to read them again. Trying to visualize every sentence over and over.

Princess Y/N had become the woman my mother had chosen for me to marry.

The person I respected most through my teenage years, studying and traveling all over the continent, was my very own mother. Who supported my father, brother, and I all through her own hardships.

Even now, loving my brother and me with all her heart, while reigning and ruling our kingdom with a clear mind and an incredible sense of purpose.

After the death of my father, I had seen her decline in both health and happiness. The smile on her face never reached her cheekbones, then her eyes stopped lighting up like when she was with my father.

It was only a sign of urgency.

I needed to take the position as King as fast as possible, just to lessen the burden on my mother's shoulders.

Mother could reign- until I had married my wife and we both went through the coronation process. According to our constitution, a King could only be crowned and start reigning if he was married, making it impossible for me to reign as a single man.

Even though I absolutely hated the idea of marrying an absolute stranger, it had to be done. I would not go ahead and mess with anything that held great importance to our kingdom, especially rules written down in our constitution.

Having both a King and Queen who ruled together, gave its people a certain reassurance.

Of course, in a normal marriage a couple could lean on each other, but with the past, and even current relations of our kingdoms- we both would not get along until we learned to ignore each other enough to stand each other.

Mother had repeatedly emphasized that even a couple in an arranged marriage should get to know one another. Which led to the sudden decision to inform me and probably the Feronian Royal Family that the princess would arrive a week early, and so it meant that she was on her way here at this very moment.

Not that a week mattered much, because we would get married whether we were familiar with each other or not.

Weeks ago, I had ordered my closest men to look for information on the Feronian Royal Family.

Since this would be the end of the war, I would have to actually act like I wanted something to do with this marriage.

I needed to figure out how this family operated.

How exactly things would go after our alliance gets put into motion..

I was especially interested in the Princess.

The Feronian Princess was known to the public as the most beautiful woman of her kingdom. If correct, her intelligence was well praised by scholars who had both taught her, and gotten to know her over the years working for the Royal Family.

I laughed at the initial wording of my men's statement, then stopped.

Staring into the void as I came to a realization that I actually was getting married to her.

Not that I was jumping at the idea of being a married man, far from it...

With marriage came the coronation, and I still could not quite believe how my life had changed in mere months.

I had been having fun with friends and acquaintances, studying the world and traveling wherever my heart desired, until everything stopped that one day I received the devastating news of my father's death..

Even the war with Feronia and us had come to a halt, a truce I had pledged my mother to make something permanent with this marriage.

I move my gaze to the next piece of paper. It was a summary of Feronia's sources of income, through the years, a decline was very visible.

I distinctly remembered that agriculture had been their biggest source of income for decades now.

From the beautiful green fields, forests, and crops, to even their official title 'Feronia', everything was connected to how well they had done with keeping their grounds fertile, making their agricultural trade a staying economic success.

Even managing to do so during the war.

At the end of my parent’s reign , this deal was the most significant duty I could ever fulfill.

Our kingdoms would receive each other's most prized and valued aspects.

Valeron needs a Queen for me to actually start my reign. And Feronia needs the connection to end this war. They were losing big time.

Losing their precious land to us, and different acting rebel groups who disliked the ruling family, and their dwindling weapon supply did not help much.

The last time I had visited the Feronian palace was not an encounter I could remember as positive. Their palace was decent, but humble compared to ours.

Though, it had beautiful gardens where I had the opportunity to see the most breathtaking views of the land.

The first time I had been there was to accompany my father to a visit to their palace. It was before the war, before the heads of both kingdoms had sour feelings about one another.

Their Queen was a cold woman from what I could remember, her presence radiating darkness.

I had been young, but old enough to remember the abundance of flowers in all the corners of the big rooms. I was incredibly excited to finally meet a princess my age, only to be let down as I was told she wasn't allowed to leave her chambers.

Years later, I had never learnt the reason behind it. I did, however, remember the nasty look her older brother had given me.

Their Crown Prince was incredibly hostile, even as a teenage boy, like he'd known I'd snatch up his baby sister as my bride only a decade or so later.

It was incredibly interesting to think back on such a moment, since I had gotten to know that her brother was not often in the palace. Always sent away for schooling, never home for more than a couple of weeks.

With his baby sister getting married soon, I'd doubt big brother would miss out on our wedding.

I wondered if the Crown Prince knew about our marriage, he really could be classified as a coward if he let this happen, especially since he was known to vocally dislike us.

Had he thrown a tantrum like a child when he heard of our alliance?

The thought made me chuckle, I bring my hand up to my mouth, wiping the grin off my face..

I move my eyes to the old clock on the wall, leaning back in my chair. I had received word of my bride leaving her home this morning. With a carriage and a few trustworthy men my mother had sent.

'To make her feel comfortable and safe..' she had told me.

My mother was a sweet, sweet woman, despite all the hardship she'd endured in her life.

My duty as future monarch was to protect everyone close to me. Which also meant that I had to prepare to meet the Princess halfway on her long journey.

It would be seen disrespectful as Crown Prince to let my future wife and Queen make such rough journey alone.

But, I also was an impatient person, and if I wanted to meet my future wife before anyone else, I would take the opportunity to do so..

Getting up from the chair, I grab the small suede box from the wooden cabinet of my desk. Sliding it into the inside pocket of my jacket, I leave my study.

Wondering if my fiancée was as beautiful and intelligent as they said.

Two freaking birds.

Two.

They had landed on the few snacks I ate, flew into my carriage as I opened the windows for some fresh air, and one started attacking me for quite literally no reason while I took a short nap.

I had tried to fix my now messed-up hair, without any help or a simple mirror, it proved to be difficult. I just hoped it looked presentable at least.

I grumble as my carriage hits another stupid rock on the road. I was getting absolutely fed up with this journey. Which no one had prepared me for to be this- boring and long.

The roads were messed up, covered in mud. Not used to a big carriage led by two big, strong horses and about seven additional knights with their own trusted horses.

Two men on either side, two behind my carriage, and the lieutenant leading us. And of course, the older coachman making sure my carriage moved along.

After all, these roads were only used by knights until now...

The Valeronian Queen was definitely protective of me and did prepare a great deal for my long journey.

If only I were emotionally prepared..

I was completely alone.

Gianna would only arrive after my wedding to the Crown Prince- which made me bawl my eyes out when I realized that- just minutes before leaving.

From all the servants in my palace, I had chosen for her to join me in my new life as future Queen of Valeron.

But right now, I had absolutely no one to chat to, gossip with- or complain to..

Even with all my travel buddies here, Lieutenant Kent and his crew on the horses didn't look like the chatty types.

At least I had thought of bringing a single book. It had kept me entertained for a while. Though, all the bumps and rocks on the road made me nauseous and feel unwell- so I quit reading a while ago, it sat across from me on the opposite bench- challenging me to pick it back up.

"How long until we get to the border?"

I lean forward to move aside the curtain laid across the window. My eyes meeting with a knight. He had dark, smooth skin. Long, beautiful braids falling down his back, some shorter ones that had escaped from his hairtie, falling in front of his face.

If a simple knight looked this handsome, my fiancé could not disappoint me..

"We have already passed the border, Your Highness. Rest assured, we will keep pace, and stay aware..'

I give him a simple nod, before pulling the curtains closed.

We had already passed the border? I had left my homeland without even knowing? It must have been while I took my nap, because every forest looked the same to me, for me to realize I was in Valeron already..

The realization stung, a slight pinch in my chest as I pondered whether I should be upset or thrilled for something new.

So far, if I could turn this carriage back around - I would.

I missed the way Gianna and I talked each other's ears off.

My wondering thoughts keep me occupied for a while, until the carriage stopped in an abrupt halt.

Gasping at the quick stop, I slide off the bench, and in an attempt to save my behind- I move forward, falling onto my knees.

Yes, the carriage was brand-new looking, but there was no way someone had just made me fall onto a place my dirty shoe soles had been..

I take a deep, mortified breath, put my hands on the bench opposite me, and pull myself up.

If there was some- big fucking tree on the road, again I'd freak out.

"What just happened?!" I scream, my blood was boiling at this point. Knees screaming at me to sit down, I could even swear I scraped them so badly they were bleeding.

"Your Highness-"

No, yelling from my carriage alone wasn't going to cut it.

I grab onto the handle of the door, pushing it open, before stepping down onto the leaf-covered, earthy ground.

The orange leaves crunch and ripple under my feet, as I angrily stomp towards the front of the carriage.

"Why are we braking so hard?"

I point towards the coachman, scowling in anger. 

One more crazy brake, and I would hit my face against the leather benches.

What would it look like, the Princess having a facial injury at her wedding because the roads were so unprepared she fell on her damn face?

I scoff when the horses neigh, they were probably laughing at my predicament..

No response from the coachman, not even an apology or look, really?

"What is happening? Tree on the road? Another carriage? Cattle?"

My questions go unanswered again, and I sigh, placing my hands on my hips. Until I'm interrupted by a tone, not one of these men would dare to use against me..

"I'm not sure how to feel about being compared to cattle at our first meeting, Princess.."

My body goes rigid at the smooth, accented voice.

Suddenly, all sane thoughts had left my body and mind, if I even had any left. Leaving me frozen, scowl melting into a wide-eyed expression.

Considering the knight's sudden attention to the person speaking, and not an immediate reaction to defense.

It could be one person speaking.

The crunching of leaves only gets closer, and I almost hit myself in the head to get myself out of my stupid trance.

I run my tongue along my dry lips, blinking a couple of times before turning my body towards the noise.

Harsh wind blows past my face, and I shiver slightly as I look at whom the voice belongs to.

My heart skips a single beat when I make eye contact with him. The jittery feeling made me hold my breath like an idiot.

Handsome alone was not enough to describe his face..

Those deep brown eyes, staring into my soul with an intensity I could not even try to describe. He looked cold, but his simmering gaze could burn a hole into my face.

Crown Prince Jude stood next to his deep-brown-coated horse, eyes on mine.

It suddenly got incredibly hot, even though the temperatures had dropped in the forest. My face turning warm, cold wind making me notice it even more.

The knights greet him immediately, in the corners of my vision, I could see them lower their heads in respect, their horses following as if they could sense the Crown Prince's demanding and authoritative presence..

"Your Highness! We were not informed of your presence.."

Lieutenant Kent spoke up, bowing in respect before approaching him.

But the Crown Prince kept his gaze on me.

"What kind of man would I be if I let the respectable princess make the entire journey alone?"

He raises a single brow at me, nodding at his lieutenant dismissively before approaching me.

I pull my coat closer to my body, even though my skin burned like a flame..

"It seems like she already is fed up with your leading, Lieutenant.."

A slight, mocking grin forms on his plump lips, eyes slowly move down my frame, lingering on probably the bloodstains on the fabric on my light gray dress and coat.

"Your Highness.."

My eyes widen as he makes a deft bow, his hand reaching to take mine.

"I imagine you are quite frazzled as you meet your fiancé in the middle of these woods.."

You would imagine he would go ahead and kiss the back of my hand, but he only shakes it once, letting go of my limp hand, making it fall back to my side.

Okay, rude.

I stare at him for a little too long, before replying.

"Crown Prince, as you just said, I was not made aware you would accompany me in the last hours of my journey to the Palace. It is great to see such chivalry..”

Woah, I had never spoken like this before, apart from my long etiquette classes..

I guess they really did have a purpose..

He chuckles, he fucking chuckles at my carefully created response...

"Are you always this pronounced?"

What?

"Excuse me?"

He shakes his head once, stepping closer.

The Crown Prince leans down, his face inching toward my ear..

I turn my head, making him look directly into my eyes, challenging him to say his response directly to my face..

"A simple observation, do you always yell at your servants when things do not go your way?"

I tilt my head at his audacity.

Where did he get it?

"Do you always cut off carriages and endanger the occupants of them?"

I question, raising my brows in annoyance, a scoff leaving my dry lips.

His smirk only widens, and I already can start crossing off the predictions list Gianna made for me.

'#1. The Princess will punch the Crown Prince in the face..'

"Most people being driven in Royal carriages are aware of themselves and their surroundings, actually, Princess."

I gasp at his insult. Did I look like I was not self-aware or something?

Before I can even respond, the Crown Prince- or asshole now, turns towards the surrounding knights..

"There is a prediction of a rainstorm. We should get going before it hits us. Please keep in mind to be careful with the carriage, our Princess here gets flustered easily...."

He shoots me one look before walking back to his horse.

I was deep in enemy territory, and he showed me exactly that..

Turning around, I climb back into my carriage.

No introducing himself?

Not even a ‘nice to finally meet you, my fiancée and future queen. You saved my ass, I will die for you’?

This time my blood boils twice as much as before, and I wonder if I was even made for this..

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Coming out to Marvel Characters

A/N: Happy Pride! Reader's orientation/identity is ambiguous, as is your relationship with the characters :) Masterlist

Steve: Telling him is a little intimidating considering the time he’s from, but truthfully you could of told him back in the 30s and even then he would of accepted you -albeit with more anxiety over your safety. He’s open minded for his time, and he has in spades the kind of compassion you need after bearing your heart and soul like that. 

Tony: He’s a dickhead more often than not, but he gets that this is a rare time not to be. He’s quiet for a moment, processing, and then he’s nonchalant. He acknowledges what you said as sensitively as he can but he also doesn’t linger on it. He accepts who you are, but to him it’s not a moment to get sappy over, it’s as casual as he thinks lending someone basic human decency should be.

Thor: He forgets for a minute that this can be a big deal to earthlings, queerness as you call it is a lot more normalised on Asguard.Then he remembers, and trying to be supportive -albeit a little clumsily- he pats your back and commends the courage it must of taken to tell him, assuring you you have his wholehearted acceptance.

Natasha: Look, as perceptive as she is, there’s no way she hasn’t already known for months. She’s just been too respectful to say anything. When you do finally tell her she feigns just a bit of surprise for your benefit, then she’s very casual about the whole thing. She’s accepting but in a quiet way, she’s one to show her support subtly as it naturally comes up.

Wanda: She doesn’t have the most in depth lgbtqia+ education or anything but she wholeheartedly supports the community. So, between that and her being the compassionate person she is, she’s very easy to tell. She’s so understanding and sensitive to your feelings, and honestly she’s just really touched that you trusted her enough to tell her.

Peter P: It really does come as a surprise, just because he’s usually so preoccupied with his own secret that he doesn’t often think about what other people might be hiding. He adjusts right away though, he’s always considerate to your comfort and now is no exception. He’s so sweet, he’s just happy you told him and asking the most thoughtful questions.

Carol: Though she’s also from a more close-minded time, she’s a little less intimidating to tell. For one thing, she’s spent her life since then around a diverse range of space cultures, and for another, she kind of has her own… vibe. And yeah, you were right not to worry, she doesn’t exactly overreact but she’s very obvious in her support.

Bucky: He is surprised, but also curious. When you spend most your life in the 30s and the rest in captivity you don’t learn how to respond to someone coming out to you (at least not in a way he ever would) but he doesn’t do too bad, he clearly isn’t bothered. Actually you coming out sparks his interest in the matter and inspires him to educate himself on queerness in the 21st century.

Yelena: As another queer person, she thinks it’s great, her eyes actually light up as you tell her. Honestly, she’s kind of hoping that you have more experience with things like pride and community than she does because she could really use some guidance, but even if not it’s still nice just to know she has someone who’s like her in her life and hopes that you feel the same way.

Loki: He couldn’t be less fazed if you told him your star sign, frankly. He is quick though, he can see this is important to you. So, wanting you to feel validated he asks some polite follow up questions, he’s happy to let you vent if you want, he’ll even offer some insight as someone a lot more at home in his queer identity if you need it. Plus, the best thing about telling him is that he’s definitely down to …handle… any bigots you’re dealing with.

Valkyrie: She’ll drink to that. Really, she thinks it’s nice, she’s supportive without making a big deal out of it. Though she’s queer herself, she wouldn’t think to offer any advice on the matter because well… she’s kind of a mess, but if you need someone to talk to she’s not a bad listener.

Kate: Despite what an adorably awkward motormouth she can be at times, she’s actually pretty chill about this. She does rush to reassure you that she’s fine with it, especially if you seem nervous, but she’s otherwise relaxed and lets you do most of the talking. It’s not that big of a shock to her really, it’s not like she’s never met other queer people before.

Peter Q: To be for real, most of what her knows about queer people comes from outdated stereotypes, relics from his childhood, and there was probably a time when coming out to him really would of sucked because of that, but he’s matured a lot since then so he takes this in with an open mind and responds with surprising sensitivity and kindness, at least by his standards.

Gamora: She’s been through planets more or less accepting of queerness so she gets the gist, but with how shut-off she’s been you’re still the first (out) queer person she’s known well. You wouldn’t know that though, because she responds very calmly to you coming out and she’s very easy to talk to about it.

Drax: He does not get the big deal. He doesn’t even get what homophobia / transphobia is really, and yet he still manages to say something totally offensive (albeit completely unintentionally) when you come out to him -which he later apologises for. Of course he accepts you, it’s not even a question, and after that first slip up he does make it a point to try and be more respectful …to mixed results.

Groot: He is Groot.

Rocket: He’s not respectful per se, because he never is, but he takes it fine. With all the crazy stuff he’s seen, you’re really not making headlines. He doesn’t know how to communicate it, but he’s sympathetic to the more alienating parts of your experience, especially to bigotry you faced, and he’s the quickest to defend you if ever needed.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

behind the curtain

Summary: Sequel to never been (stage) kissed. After shooting wraps, you and Ruby part ways. Eight months later, you see each other again at the premiere screening, and decide to “sneak away” during the after-party. How will you two navigate the paparazzi after they catch you in a compromising position?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, adult humor, kissing, angst, fluff, hair playing, secret relationship trope, brief mention of an ED, publicity tweets and comments, invasive tabloids, the price of fame

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is a sequel to my previous RPF, so the RPF Guidelines still stand. This fic contains a very brief mentioning towards an ED, and should not be triggering (at least I don’t think so). I am not insinuating anything by this mention, it is simply meant to shed light on how invasive and presumptuous Hollywood can be. That being said, I had the most fun EVER writing this! Enjoy! :)

———

Ever since the first “kissing lesson,” you and Ruby had spent every on-set lunch break in her trailer. Nothing ever progressed beyond kissing, but with the way Ruby’s hands entangled themselves in your hair, and how she shivered every time your hand grazed her thigh, kissing was really all you needed.

Your mid-day rendezvous were kept a secret from the rest of the world. None of the cast or crew knew exactly what was happening when the door to Ruby’s trailer closed, but it was clear that something was working. Since the trailer lunches began, your on-set chemistry became palpable. It even got to the point where the director would shout words of praise after “cut!”

Eventually, like with all movies, filming began to wrap up. The last day on set, you and Ruby spent all of your down time wrapped in each other's arms, tears falling at the thought of parting. Everyone on set sympathized with the both of you, except for the makeup artist who kept having to touch up your alien makeup after every fallen tear.

You and Ruby promised to keep in touch, and you did for a little while. But daily FaceTimes eventually became weekly phone calls, which turned into sporadic texts, until silence settled between you, save for occasional likes on social media posts. You missed her terribly, and while your pride and fear of rejection kept you from reaching back out, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing you too.

About eight months after shooting wrapped for “Aliens of Atlantis,” you were going over sides for an upcoming audition when you got a call from your agent. Upon answering, she announced that “Aliens of Atlantis” post-production had wrapped, and the film had a scheduled premiere where the cast would be making an appearance.

A blissful daze settled across your face at this news. Your agent kept on talking about the when, the where, and the dress code of the upcoming premiere, but you were only half-listening. Her words mushed together, flying in one ear and out the other as the only thing that mattered to you consumed your mind.

You were going to see Ruby again.

On the morning of the premiere, you woke up with a knot in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if the cause was nerves or excitement, but you chalked it up to probably being a little of both. You tried everything to settle your stomach, from aspirin to deep breaths to simply distracting yourself with other tasks. Despite your attempts, when your driver arrived later in the day to take you to the premiere, the knot was still there and prominent as ever.

By the time you had arrived and were about to get out of the car, the knot had seemingly spread throughout your entire body, making you feel like an absolute disaster. You took out your phone and checked your reflection in the front-facing camera, just to remind yourself that you weren’t. In fact, you looked good. You were wearing a metallic blue floor-length gown as a not-so subtle nod to your alien character from the movie. Pale blue eyeshadow decorated your eyelids, and you left your hair down in loose face-framing curls. You knew the press would go crazy as soon as they saw you, and that thought alone gave you enough of a confidence boost to calm down a bit.

When the car pulled up to the red carpet, you took a deep breath and stepped out, immediately being bombarded with cameras flashing in your face. You blinked, overwhelmed at the bright lights, and quickly attempted to paste on a smile and act like this wasn’t your first red carpet event.

You stumbled down the red carpet and looked around for Ruby, but the constant camera flashes and bright lights made it difficult to see much. Every now and then you would stop to strike a pose and flash a pretty smile in some random direction, or answer one of the million questions being thrown at you.

“Who are you wearing?”

A fucking blue dress. “Valdrin Sahiti!”

“How do you feel about your first red carpet event?”

Overwhelmed. “So excited!”

“What are you most looking forward to tonight?”

Seeing Ruby again. “Everyone finally getting to see all the hard work from the cast and crew!”

After what felt like an eternity of paparazzi and bullshit answers to trivial questions, the end of the red carpet was finally approaching. You felt yourself let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wasn’t easy, but you managed to make it down your first red carpet without making a complete fool of yourself.

Eventually, the cameras seemed to dissipate, focusing on the next pretty young thing that had just arrived. You blinked, trying to restore your vision infringed upon by the blinding lights. Once you could see in front of you again, you looked up, and a gulp forced itself down your throat at what might have been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen.

There, standing at the end of the red carpet, was Ruby Cruz, radiant amidst the flashing lights.

Her gown was long and form-fitting, sporting bright streaks of color and a slit up one of her legs. Dark brown curls hovered above her shoulders and cascaded down the back of her neck, while glittery red eyeshadow made her blue eyes pop. She looked so natural, posing and smiling for the cameras, that you couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of her.

Upon seeing you, Ruby’s eyes brightened, and a goofy grin spread across her face. She walked towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist and instantly making the cameras go wild. Your cheeks flushed into a bright pink tint. You missed her touch, and having her arm wrapped around you like that almost felt like deja vu.

While the both of you posed for the flashing cameras, Ruby leaned down to your ear and whispered one single sentence, the answer to a question you didn’t need to ask.

“I missed you.”

Unsurprisingly, the movie premiere turned out to be a massive success. The audience was extremely receptive to the storyline, cheering and gasping at all the right moments. Critics even approached you after the screening to rave about your performance and promise a glowing review.

The after-party was held at a nearby banquet hall, decorated to look like the underwater city of Atlantis. Filk music blasted through speakers while an open bar served space-themed cocktails.

You were busy making your rounds, establishing connections with other attendees while sipping a ‘cosmonaut’ from the open bar. While posing for a photo with a fan, you couldn’t help but realize you hadn’t seen Ruby in a bit. You craned your neck to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged it off, thinking it’s just a big venue and you’d probably run into her at some point during the night.

After several photos, impromptu interviews, and business cards you had nowhere to put, you were exhausted. You tried to make yourself as invisible as possible, leaning against a curtain by the back wall and downing the last sip of your cocktail.

While scanning the room, you noticed some of your castmates appeared slightly tipsy. You felt bad for them, knowing their press interviews would come off as less than professional, but there was a small part of you that wished you had more to drink throughout the night. The party was fun, sure, but took a lot out of you, and alcohol was sure to make it more tolerable.

Suddenly, while you were immersed in watching a crew member profusely apologize to an intern she had drunkenly stumbled into, you felt a disembodied hand appear out of nowhere and wrap around your arm. The hand pulled you behind the curtain you were leaning against, causing you to gasp and drop your empty cup.

You whipped around to see who grabbed you, preparing to throw a punch or scream for help if you had to. Instead, your eyes softened and you lowered your fist upon seeing Ruby, standing there staring at you with a devilish smirk.

“Hi pretty girl.” She cooed, taking a step towards you.

“Ruby…” you half-whispered in shock, eyes traveling up and down her body. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” she rested her hands on your hips and bit her lip, letting an ounce of vulnerability shine through her otherwise confident exterior. “I missed this. I feel like we barely got to see each other all night.”

“Me too,” you responded, internally melting at the feeling of her warm hands on your torso.

You wrapped your arms around her neck and leaned close to her before a sense of paranoia made you backtrack. “Ruby, it’s a big party, what if someone sees us?”

Ruby simply shrugged, completely unbothered. “Like you said, it’s a big party. Our castmates are drunk, the press is too focused on capturing their embarrassing moments.”

Her words seemed to reassure you, and you pulled her close to you again, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “I’m glad you pulled me away.”

Ruby crashed her lips against yours, forcing a soft moan to escape your throat. She pulled back, looking deep into your eyes and holding your face in her hands.

“Careful now. We don’t want anyone hearing us.”

You nodded, non-verbally promising to keep quiet before Ruby brought her lips to yours again. Both of you sighed into the kiss, eight months of absence making itself prominent with passion. She tasted like sweet nostalgia with a hint of coconut rum, probably leftover from a drink she had earlier.

Ruby pressed herself against you, and you grabbed at the back of her neck, desperate to be as close to her as possible. She kept her hands planted at your waist, thumbing over the metallic fabric of your gown. Each time her fingertips pressed into your sides sent electrifying shocks through your body, making your knees stutter and causing you to lean more into Ruby for balance.

You brought your hands up to play with one of her curls, prompting a gentle sigh to travel from her mouth into yours. A smirk appeared on your lips, realizing your beloved brunette enjoyed having her hair played with.

Just when you were about to fully take advantage of this newfound information, a sudden crash engulfed your ears, followed by a blinding light and a collective gasp. You and Ruby pulled away from each other, turning your heads to check out the commotion.

One of the interns had drunkenly stumbled into the curtain and pulled it down with him as he fell, leaving you and Ruby entangled in each other and completely exposed to the rest of the party.

All hell broke loose. Interviewers screamed questions from across the room while paparazzi cameras flashed in your face. Those without cameras pulled out their phones and filmed the both of you, desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame.

Anxiety overtook your body as you felt a lump rise to your throat and your heart sink to your feet. You turned to look at Ruby, eyes full of fear, but she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking straight at the flashing cameras, with an expression that made your blood run cold.

You had never seen her bright blue eyes filled with so much anger.

The pit in your stomach grew as you scrolled through the tabloid headlines and Twitter articles featuring your and Ruby’s “stunt” from the other night. This was bad. So bad, that both of your agents had gotten together to hire a public relations manager just for the situation.

Two days after the movie premiere, an emergency meeting was called. Five of you were called to the manager’s office, with both of your agents sitting on either side of him, and you and Ruby placed across from the three of them.

The manager, named Rick, held out his hand and you gave him his phone back, sick of scrolling through the headlines anyway. As far as you could tell, Rick didn’t seem like a bad guy, but it was clear Ruby didn’t feel the same. She hadn’t said a word throughout the entire meeting, instead keeping her arms crossed in front of her chest and pointing a cold glare towards the man in front of her.

She didn’t trust him, and everyone in the room knew it.

Rick gave the both of you a sheepish grin. “As you both can probably see, you’re kind of the flavor of the week right now.”

Ruby’s agent nodded in agreement. “I have a friend in New York, and she heard a rumor about an SNL sketch being written about the whole thing.”

Your agent sighed, clearly having heard the rumor herself. Ruby simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” You piped up.

All eyes turned to look at you, making you shrink in your seat. “I mean, can’t we just wait for it to blow over? All we did was kiss at an after party.”

“It’s not like we were fucking, Rick.” Ruby growled through her teeth, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

Rick cleared his throat, uncomfortable with Ruby’s candidness. “Well it’s not really that simple…”

“No one knows what you are.” Your agent interrupted. “All the public knows is you were caught going at it like teenagers in a basement, and now the media is going to be on top of everything you do until they figure it out.”

Ruby’s agent nodded. “Before this, we wanted you both to appear single to the public. You’re both very attractive girls. People want you, and we want them to think they can have you.”

“But that’s not really an option now.” Rick pointed out. “Fortunately, both of you have pretty reputable status in Hollywood. People see two of their favorite actresses together, feedback is bound to be mostly positive.”

He opened up a notepad in front of him and started scribbling down something you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m thinking, we take this relationship and go completely public. Social media posts, dates open to the paparazzi, everything. That way, the media won’t have to do any guess work and this whole thing will blow over sooner.”

Suddenly, Ruby stood up from her seat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Ruby!” Her agent called after her.

She turned to flash an apologetic smile towards all the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m sorry. She’s not usually like this. I’ll talk to her.”

She ran out of the room after Ruby, leaving Rick and your agent to go over the details of the plan. Their voices faded into the background as millions of thoughts swam through your mind. You had a bad feeling about this ‘public relationship’ idea.

How were you supposed to go public with your relationship, when you weren’t even sure if there was a relationship to go public with?

You adjusted your oversized hat and sunglasses while staring up at the cafe sign that read “Grind n’ Dine,” shuddering at the slightly suggestive name.

One week after the meeting with Rick, he worked with your agents to schedule a public date for you and Ruby, tipping off the press to make sure there was media coverage. Grind n’ Dine, a local business, had apparently paid Rick a large sum of money to schedule your date here in the hopes that the publicity would be good for business.

Taking a deep breath, you walked in through the restaurant doors and looked around. Several members of the press were already present, wearing cameras around their necks and sipping coffee at various tables. You breathed out a sigh of relief that they didn’t recognize you yet, thankful for your agent who suggested arriving in disguise.

In the very back of the restaurant, tucked into a booth, you spotted Ruby hiding behind a menu. She had her body and hair buried under a large black hoodie, and masked her face with sunglasses similar to yours. You made your way over to her, trying to act natural, and making sure to avoid press members as much as possible in case they recognize you before you’re ready.

You slid into the seat across from her and cleared your throat to alert her of your presence. She put down her menu and laid it flat, before tilting her sunglasses down to meet your eyes.

Her blue eyes, once lively and bright, were now bloodshot and emotionless. Dark circles hung like bags underneath them, as if she hadn’t slept in days. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Ruby had never looked at you this way before, and you wished more than anything that she would stop.

“Ready for this?” She asked, her voice monotone and lifeless.

You gulped, nodding defeatedly. “As I’ll ever be.”

Ruby removed her sunglasses and pulled down her hood, shaking out her wild brunette locks. You followed suit, taking off your hat and slipping your sunglasses into your purse.

Almost immediately, members of the press recognized the both of you, and practically trampled the poor servers and other diners to get to your booth. Cameras were suddenly shoved in your face, followed by microphones and what felt like hundreds of pointless and rather invading questions.

“Is this a date? How would you define your relationship?”

“If you had to describe your sex life using only three words, what would they be?”

“Ruby! Do you think every liberal democrat should take home a migrant to show their support for the proposed open border policy?”

The two of you mumbled terse responses to some of the questions, and completely ignored others. After several minutes of verbal torture, a perky blonde waitress fought her way through the press and stopped at the end of your table. She sported a wide politician's smile not directed at the two of you, instead flashed to the surrounding cameras in search of fifteen minutes of fame.

“Hi guys,” she started, her voice unnaturally high pitched. “My name is Bethany, what can I get started for you today?”

“I’ll have a quinoa salad and cranberry juice, please.” You answered, handing Bethany your menu.

The press murmured imperceptible comments regarding your order, some even scribbling notes on napkins. “Quinoa… salad…”

“Just a coffee’s fine.” Ruby mumbled, order being followed by press comments as well.

As soon as Bethany walked away, the paparazzi shoved the cameras back in your face and bombarded you and Ruby with questions once more.

“Did you order cranberry juice because you like cranberry juice or because you have a UTI? How did you get this UTI?”

“I noticed you were the only one who ordered food. Could it be because you’re eating for two?”

“Speaking of, why didn’t you order food, Ruby? Are you battling some kind of eating disorder? Would you like to comment on it?”

“Enough!” Ruby exclaimed, perhaps louder than she should have.

Immediately, the press was silent, with only the sound of sporadic camera clicks being heard. Ruby turned to look at you, tears starting to well in her tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this…” she whispered, getting up and running out of the restaurant.

“Ruby! Wait, please!” You stood up and ran after her, leaving the paparazzi in the dust behind you.

You found Ruby leaning against a building across the cafe. She had her head resting against the cool brick, and her face pointed to the sky while she blinked back tears threatening to fall.

A lump formed in your throat as you started to approach her. You couldn’t stand to see her like this. She looked so… miserable.

“Ruby…” you muttered softly, reaching out your hand.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the concrete, refusing to look you in the eye. “I just wasn’t hungry! It’s barely ten in the fucking morning!”

You sighed. “Ruby, we both know that’s not what this is about. What’s going on?”

She sniffed, and focused her gaze on something behind you. “Can we… go somewhere else?”

Turning to see what Ruby was looking at, you noticed a teenage girl filming the two of you on her phone. You rolled your eyes, completely exasperated at this point.

“Let’s go.” You muttered, grabbing her hand to pull her away.

It didn’t take long to find a nearby alleyway, deserted except for an empty dumpster. You dragged Ruby into the back, letting go of her hand once the coast was clear.

“Talk.”

The pale brunette pushed her bangs out of her face, blinking a couple times while gathering her thoughts.

“I just… this is why my Instagram is private. This is why I’ve never explicitly labeled my sexuality. This is why I rarely talk about my personal life! I don’t want the media invading my space! I don’t want random strangers knowing intimate details about my life! It’s fucking freaky!”

You nodded, understanding her perspective, especially as you’d been recently dealing with the wrath of the paparazzi as well. She continued.

“I mean fuck! I can’t even order a damn coffee without some tabloid claiming I have a fucking eating disorder!”

Her breathing seemed to be evening out the more she spoke. She let out a shuddering breath and crossed her arms, staring at the gravel beneath her feet.

“I just… I just wanted to kiss you at an after-party. I missed you. And now everyone’s forcing us to be in this relationship and make it public but…”

“But no one asked us if we were even together,” you finished.

She nodded. “Exactly! We never even had a conversation just between us. Everyone just assumed.”

You pulled the brunette girl into your arms, wrapping them around her torso. She buried her face in the crook of your neck as you stroked her soft locks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “If I had known that’s how you felt…”

“No.” She interrupted. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything, I… listen…”

She pulled away, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You waited for her to tell you that she didn’t want to see you again, that it was too hard, that it meant nothing.

You held your breath as she took your face in her hands, her blue eyes piercing into yours.

“I like you.”

“You… huh?” Shock painted your features as Ruby said the last thing you were expecting to hear.

“I like you.” She repeated, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned. “I meant it when I said I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire eight months we didn’t talk. I should have reached out more, I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess I was scared? I don’t know…”

She was babbling, and you didn’t think she could get any cuter. You took her hands off your face and held them in yours, flashing her an encouraging smile.

“I like you too,” you replied giddily. “More than you know.”

Ruby chuckled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. She stared down at the gravel again, chewing on her lip before speaking.

“I like you… I really do, but if we’re gonna start this… something, I’d want to take it slow and be completely private. No socials, no media, at least for now. Would… that be something you’re okay with?”

You squeezed her hands, flashing her a goofy grin. “I would… love that, actually.”

As you stared at your former celebrity crush, turned co-star, turned friend, turned… something, a wave of courage suddenly washed over you. Letting go of her hands, you seized her face and brought your lips to hers, tentatively, testing the waters. She gasped, but soon kissed back, sighing as she wrapped her arms around your neck and leaned into your body.

You moved your hand towards the back of her neck, then slowly inched upwards until your fingers were entangled in her hair. An almost inaudible moan escaped her lips and vibrated against yours as you played with her soft tresses. You smirked into the kiss, remembering exactly how much she liked having her hair played with before getting caught at the after-party.

Finally, after what could have been an eternity, you pulled away from each other. The two of you gasped for breath, both smiling like giddy children at the other.

“So… what now?” You asked breathlessly.

Ruby hummed to herself, seemingly in thought. “We could… go on a real date? Just you and me? No paparazzi. There’s this great little hole-in-the-wall place I like to go to when I don’t want to get recognized.”

You tilted your head, shooting her a lopsided smile. “That sounds perfect, actually.”

Before leaving the alleyway, Ruby put her sunglasses back on and pulled her hood over her head again, while you dug your sunglasses out of your purse and readjusted your hat. The two of you were disguised, hidden from the world, but happy to be able to pursue each other away from public opinion.

Ruby reached out her hand, her blue eyes somehow still managing to shine behind her sunglasses. “Ready for this?”

You smiled back at her, taking her hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. “As I’ll ever be.”

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Any Stefek fic that is based off the movie Dirty Dancing? A friend of mine said she read a few but I can not find any! Thank you!!!

Nobody puts Sterek in a corner!

Awkward Dancing by StaciNadia

(1/1 I 1,193 I Teen)

Love and dancing come together at Argent's Resort.

I Can't Live Without Your Love by Val_Brown

(1/1 I 4,898 I Not Rated)

Derek stared out the car window as the green trees of the Oregon Coast highway rolled past. Every summer since he could remember they would head to a resort just outside of Bandon, Oregon. This was the last summer before he began college. The last summer before he had to start his future. He was going to make the most of it.

I Carried a Watermelon for Werewolf Equal Rights by alphasnark

(1/6 I 5,359 I Teen)

A Dirty Dancing AU.

feel the magic between you and I by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 11,432 I Mature)

“See?” Derek holds his arms out, “Everything’s working out great for you, and I still have no dance partner,” he turns to Erica, “Face it, no one is as good as you.”

“We still have one more,” she sing songs.

Derek peers over to the list, flinches when he sees Stiles’ name, “No.”

“You haven’t even seen me dance, and you’re already dismissing me?” Stiles sails into the room, tossing his bag in the corner as he does so and doing a dramatic spin to face them. “I got moves.”

Hot, sweet and wild by kishmet

(2/? I 14,665 I Mature)

When his father had announced the trip to the Argents' resort, Stiles had envisioned long days spent lounging on the beach with his laptop. He'd never imagined rigorous training sessions with the world's hottest, strictest dance coach.

Nobody puts Stiles in a corner by Stephaninnie

(7/7 I 39,565 I Mature)

Dirty Dancing AU where Stiles is Baby and Derek is Johnny and some things have changed but most things have stayed the same.

Certain Kind of Fool by saraubs

(1/1 I 36,530 I Mature)

Derek, who has been dragged against his will to the same resort his family visits every summer, is determined to spend the next two and a half months sequestered in his room. His only friend, his sister Laura, is preoccupied with her newly-bonded mate, and doesn't seem to care about anything but making him happy.

When Derek meets Stiles Stilinski, a sharp-tongued waiter, he thinks that this summer might not be a complete waste of time. There are only two problems: First, Stiles is human. Second, he doesn't believe in mates.

Dirty Dealing by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior

(13/? I 47,100 I Teen)

Stiles had a plan for his final summer before college. He was going to intern at the Sheriff's station, get ahead on the plans for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, his dad had some hazy idea of him having 'one last summer' as a lazy teenager. Now, he's stuck cooling his heels and feeling very out of place at some stuck up country club, where he feel he has more in common with the staff than the other members. Of course, that could be because the staff include his new 'how have we never met before' best friend Scott and the 'it should be physically impossible for someone to be that perfect' new crush, Derek. Who apparently hates him - but not enough that he won't swallow his pride and put up with Stiles' presence when he's needed to help get Erica out of trouble...

I May Be Naive But I'm Not Stupid by FelOllie

(18/? I 73,472 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinski is the young, naïve high school graduate who's headed off to Columbia University (with every intention of going on to Columbia Law) because that's what his parents expect of him. Even though, really, all he wants to do is take after his father and become a cop.

Derek Hale is the sexy, mysterious, just-this-side-of-standoffish-and-rude dance instructor. He and his partner, Lydia Martin, work the summers at the playing-at-posh mountain resort teaching the over-privileged adults and their spoiled kids how to do the merengue.

The summer proves to be exactly what Stiles needs to finally learn how to take control of his life.

But, what happens when it's over?

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 06

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 4.8k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ none, really. just a few suggestive memories and oc having a crisis 👀 a/n⇢ and now, my dear friends, we finally make it to the epilogue! 🥹 thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic over the years, and i'm extra grateful to everyone who has dropped in my inbox at any point to scream their feelings about it to me--as well as everyone who has enjoyed it enough to reblog and share! 💜💜 you guys are the ones who really keep me coming back to share my writing on this hellsite, and i truly, truly appreciate you for helping keep fandom fun and alive. i hope you've enjoyed this ride as much as i have enjoyed taking you on it! 🥰😈 mood for this chapter is this song~ thanks again, everyone! 💜

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

Just as they were scheduled to, your employers jetted off overseas, leaving you to your own devices for the next three weeks. You weren’t going to lie—it felt bizarre for your calendar to be so open after months of near bursting due to constant activity. But honestly? It was truly refreshing to suddenly have so much downtime. And after your last Kim encounter, you definitely felt your break was well-deserved.   

So, you used the sudden breathing room to catch up on other parts of your life that had been suffering. The next few days were spent burrowed beneath the covers and gloriously unconscious, your truly exhausted body ensuring sleep to be your first priority. Initiating the wildest sexual encounter you had ever had—and probably would ever have—on a Thursday meant that you luckily only had to miss one lecture, and you happily did so, knowing the slides would be online for you to look over later. And though you weren’t asleep the entire weekend, even when you were awake, you didn’t part with the comfort of your bed for long—eating takeout in it and watching true crime documentaries in it and actively ignoring the way your skin tingled when your mind strayed to the other activities you had done in it not too long prior. 

(And if you were being honest, it was a little hard to not linger on what you had done. On what you so easily allowed the Kims to do.) 

When you did allow yourself to linger on it, it almost felt like a fever dream. Some abstract, depraved fantasy that your overactive mind had cooked up. But the ache in your muscles, the tenderness of your pussy—these were tangible proof that it had all been real. That the flashes of hot tongues and gasping breaths and shivering pleasure that kept creeping back, no matter how you tried to distract yourself, were memories, not figments of your imagination. You knew you should probably feel some sort of shame over it, but honestly? Other than astonishment that this was what your life had become, other than the expected fatigue—

You only felt satisfied.

Satisfied that your own needs had been spectacularly met, of course, but also with the knowledge that your employers were even more satiated than you, and that you had done that. You couldn’t help but glow with a sense of pride when your doorbell rang one afternoon and you were handed a gorgeous flower arrangement, the corresponding card detailing that the unexpected, expensive gift was from Kim Seokjin. Months ago, you probably would have felt mortified to receive them—especially with the intimate knowledge of what exactly he was thanking you for—but you had earned those flowers, dammit! Earned that, as well as the absurd amount of money Namjoon unceremoniously wired you in between the texts he sent you every few days to check on you. 

You always gave your all to whatever you set out to do, and this was no different. You were a hard worker, period. No one could fault you for being pleased with the successful results of your efforts.     

So yes, you spent those next few days relaxing and recuperating and feeling rewarded. And when you finally felt enough like a human to leave your nest of pillows and blankets, you used your newfound freedom from distractions to catch up on other parts of your life you had been inadvertently ignoring—the first being your schoolwork, and the second, Jimin. 

You did a double-take when your text thread showed that the last time you had messaged him had been a week and a half ago, unbelieving. Though busy, the two of you never went that long without at least checking in, and for him to not reach out either? You couldn’t help but worry that maybe he had forgotten about you. Found someone much more interesting, someone prettier and much more available to be showered with his attention than you. 

But luckily, your slow spiraling was immediately halted when the timid Hey you sent him resulted in his bubbly, smiley face-filled reply barely a second later. 

And so now, there you were, meeting him in person for the first time in over a month.

“Sorry I’m late,” you told him as you approached the table, slightly out of breath from your hustle there. “Traffic was crazy and the Uber driver seemed afraid of driving, or something? Like, this probably isn’t the job for you if driving in the city makes you that nervous.” Because yes, when Jimin asked if you could meet him for dinner, you were surprised when he chose a spot downtown. And you were even more surprised when you finally arrived and realized that said restaurant was apparently an upscale hotspot, especially considering the meals you usually shared together consisted of nothing fancier than takeout or something you could grab from the convenience store.

He immediately stood up to wrap you in his arms, giving you a comforting squeeze that reflexively had you melting into the warmth of him before he let go. God, he smelled good. “Glad you made it in one piece,” came his amused reply, eyes twinkling as he reached over and politely pulled your chair out for you.  

You did your best to tamp down the familiar delighted butterflies that always sprung up within you when you were near him. There was something more pressing that needed to be addressed. “Jimin,” you hissed out the corner of your mouth, warily looking around. “You didn’t tell me this restaurant was so nice! I would’ve dressed up more.” Because as it was, your simple cocktail dress wasn’t really cutting it. The tables had cloth tablecloths that no doubt were removed and washed between each seating. There were multiple chandeliers sparkling from the ceiling, for fuck’s sake! Jimin had told you to wear something more on the nicer side, but he never told you this nice, and you could tell immediately that you were underdressed. You had been so excited to see him again that you just got in the car without even bothering to google the place first. 

Jimin waved a dismissive hand, visibly unbothered as he retook his own seat. For his part, he had actually taken the time to throw on a rather smart blazer over his dress shirt and slacks, his hair carefully styled and slicked back. “You look beautiful, as you always do.”

Your eyes shifted to the table, a shy but pleased smile inching across your lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for meeting me. I was worried you’d forgotten about me.”

You couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped you. “Me forget about you? No, of course not, Jiminie. I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the earth—I’ve just been so busy—”

Jimin’s raised hand halted your rambling, the gentle crinkle of his eyes calming your frazzled nerves. “Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I totally get it—I was just teasing. I could tell you had a lot going on, and so I just didn’t want to bother you. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Didn’t you, though? Would he feel the same way if he knew just what had been taking up all your time? You reflexively swallowed, sifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Yeah, school has been running me ragged.” And it’s not a lie. Just not the full truth.

“No kidding. I think I got seven hours of sleep total last week, so like I said, I totally get it.” Before it even registered that he was reaching for you, his hand was already enveloping yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your palm. “I’m just happy we have the chance to get together now. I missed you.” 

You felt yourself immediately soften into putty at his admission. “I’ve missed you too, Jimin,” came your soft reply. Dazedly, you tried your best not to visibly show how much his unexpected touch was making your heartbeat skyrocket, but from the pleased curl of his lips, you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. 

It didn’t matter, because just as easily as he had reached into your space, he was now letting go, pulling his appendage back to his side of the table to pick up his menu.  

As if waiting for a lull in your conversation, the waiter chose that moment to approach your table. “Welcome to Serendipity. Have the two of you dined with us before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin replied, expectantly looking your way for your response and finding you scrabbling for your menu instead.

“Me neither,” you squeaked, flustered that you had been too busy making heart eyes at Jimin to even give it a cursory browse. “Is there anything you recommend?”

The waiter reached over a little to direct you a slip of paper on your table that had gone unnoticed until this moment. “You can find our current specials here—I’m a big fan of the salmon, but everything on there is excellent. And we’re actually currently running a dinner for two special, that’s been really popular. One appetizer to share, two entrées, and a dessert to share.”

Yes, it didn’t surprise you that that would be popular—along with how nice the restaurant was, you had noticed immediately when walking in that it was filled with couples who were clearly having romantic nights out.

“I think we’re still deciding on food.” Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts. “But can we please see a wine list?”

Wine? Your brow raised, not opposed, but surprised. In all the time you’ve known each other, alcohol has certainly never been a stranger—you’ve had late night study sessions together, accompanied by chicken and beer; you’ve gotten shitfaced together at bars after particularly rough exams. But something about this felt…different. In this restaurant, much fancier than you anticipated, surrounded by couples, sitting across a candlelit table from where Jimin was poring over a wine selection that you knew had to be really expensive—this was undoubtedly more intimate.  

You idly cleared your throat, not daring to linger too long on the dots your mind couldn’t help but connect. Because it obviously couldn’t be that. It had to be a coincidence.

“_____,” Jimin said, the slight raise in his voice cluing you in that this wasn’t the first time he had tried to get your attention. “How does this one sound?” 

You blinked our of your thoughts, finding both him and the waiter looking at you expectantly. “Whatever you choose is fine!” you croaked, slapping on a smile for good measure.    

“Excellent choice. I’ll bring it right out,” the waiter said with an affirmative tilt of his head, and then the two of you were alone again. 

It was quiet for a bit while you both properly perused your menus, though from the corner of your eye, the curious glances Jimin was sending you didn’t escape your notice. You were acting weird. You were acting weird and he could clearly tell you were acting weird, but ever since you noticed the restaurant’s romantic atmosphere, you couldn’t help it.

“These prices are kinda wild, huh?” came your attempt at normal conversation.

Jimin took it in stride, lips curling in amusement. “Yeah, they’re definitely overcharging for those stuffed mushrooms. But don’t worry about it—I invited you out, so this is my treat.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I can’t let you do that! I was just making a comment. Don’t worry, I have enough money to pay.”

He let out a bemused sigh, shaking his head, and if you didn’t happen to be looking directly at him, you might have missed him say under his breath, “You’re not gonna make this date easy for me, huh?”

You immediately choked on your own spit, eyes bugging at what you thought you heard. “D-Date?” you repeated incredulously.

Jimin’s spine went stiff, eyes widening as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You could only watch in amazement as it was his turn to look shy, pointedly averting his gaze to his menu and letting out a chuckle that sounded suspiciously nervous to your bemused ears. When you continued to gape at him, waiting for some sort of explanation, he was forced to continue.

“Yeah,” he hedged cautiously. “That’s what I’d hoped. Would that be a bad thing?”

You couldn’t answer right away, staring him down like he had grown two heads and wondering when he was going to burst out laughing with a Gotcha! You should have seen your face.  

Always one for great timing, the waiter chose that moment to come back with your wine, taking his sweet time pouring it into each of your glasses and cheerfully chatting about the region it came from. You didn’t hear a single word, too focused on the way Jimin studiously avoided your stare, on the noticeable flush that had risen up his neck and was fanning across his cheeks. It was only after you apologetically asked for more time for your meal orders—your mind too frazzled to pick something on the spot—that he left again. Jimin took a long swig from his wineglass.

“Sorry,” he murmured, still not looking at you. “I probably should have let you know my intention beforehand, but I was nervous you wouldn’t come, or I’d chicken out of doing it, or—”

“Your intention?” you parroted dazedly. 

Another generous swallow of wine, the liquid courage coaxing his eyes to meet yours. “I wanted to take you out somewhere really nice,” he admitted. “Show you a good time and work up the nerve to properly ask you out again.”

“On a. Date?” Your lashes fluttered, an involuntary response to your brain short-circuiting. “With me.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, with you, silly.”

“Why?”

“You’re really going to make me say it? Before our food gets here?” He was fiddling with his napkin, but despite his clear nervousness, his gaze was now unwavering and his voice was clear. “Because I like you, _____. I have for a long time.”

These were words that you had only heard him whisper in your wildest dreams, when your subconscious thoughts were no longer being restrained by your common sense. And as such, you could only gape at him, sure you were about to wake up any second.

Your unintentional silence triggered Jimin’s tongue into overdrive, and you could only struggle to make sense of his rambling as he proceeded to tell you how much your friendship meant to him and how he was afraid confessing how he felt would affect it, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. How his feelings for you were growing by the day, and the recent time spent away from you was maddening and only confirmed to him how much he wanted to be with you. And so he felt he had to at least put it out there and try.

And the longer he talked, the more your eyes welled up with horrified tears, panic gripping you by the throat and squeezing, tight, tight.

This was nothing short of a nightmare. 

You would have never agreed to your arrangement with the Kims if you had thought in a million years Jimin would have ever been a serious option for you. 

Absolutely not. You would have swallowed your pride, maybe taken that loan from Tae instead. Would have also taken as many odd jobs as you could to pay him back, would have forgone sleep completely and struggled ten times more than you were now just so you could pay off your debts. Hell, you would have even just fucking dropped out. Would have taken the semester off and attempted to come back whenever you could scrounge up the appropriate funds. 

But never, never ever, would you have done what you had done. 

Because now, not only were you contractually unable to be with the man you’ve—in an attempt at self-preservation—refused to acknowledge you were in love with, but even if you found some legal way to quit now…there was zero chance Jimin would still want you when he knew. Less than zero. And you couldn’t blame him for that, because who would?

Beyond overwhelmed, you did the only sensible thing you could in that moment—you burst into tears.

Your sudden sniveling immediately halted Jimin’s rambling, eyes wide in alarm and looking every bit as distressed as you. “Ah—don’t cry!” He leaned over the table, cradling your face in his hands and swiping your tears with his thumbs. “You don’t have to feel the same way, _____. I’ll get over it, please don’t cry—”

“No,” you blubbered, beyond miserable. He couldn’t be more wrong. “I do! Jimin, I feel exactly the same way, I just…” Your eyes welled up anew, unable to tell him the truth. “I c-can’t.” 

“You can’t?” he repeated, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes roved your face for any possible answers, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip in thought. “…Is this…” His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks, gaze gentle and open as he quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention. When it was clear no one was giving your table more than a few curious glances, he said quieter, “…Is this about the arrangement you have with Tae?”

Everything froze. Your eyes locked, Jimin patiently waiting for your reply. Hysteria trickled through your veins, held only a bay by the disbelief slamming into you harder than a freight train. “W-What arrangement?” you blurted reflexively, a touch too loudly to be believable. 

It was Jimin’s turn be caught off guard, hands slowly dropping from your face and returning to his side of the table, though he was still leaned over it so he could still whisper to you, “You know.” He looked at you pointedly, mouth downturning a bit in his confusion. “With him and his brothers. The arrangement.” 

Jesus Christ, this was not happening. There was no way that this was actually happening to you. There was no way that the man who unknowingly held your heart in the palm of his hand was fully aware that you were fucking his best friend for money. Deny, deny! “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, still visibly puzzled. But the two of you only sat in an awkward silence for a few more moments before he snapped his fingers, a light bulb clearly going off. “Ah! You can’t say anything because you signed an NDA, right?” 

You swallowed thickly, unable do anything more in that very moment than stupidly stare at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me,” Jimin chuckled, smacking his forehead for good measure. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize that sooner. Obviously you’re under NDA.” 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Weren’t sure from the gentle smile he was now sending you if he even expected a response from you. Luckily, Jimin kept talking. 

“But it’s okay—I already know everything, so you don’t have to hide it,” he reassured you. You didn’t feel assured. You felt like you were in the Twilight Zone. “Taehyung told me about your agreement when you started it months ago.”

If you were flustered before, that was nothing on what you were feeling now. Now, half-thoughts were ricocheting across your brain too quickly for you to grasp anything of substance but your internal screeching. “You know everything?” you repeated incredulously. This time it was you who leaned over the table, meeting him in the middle. “Taehyung told you?!”

“Of course he did!” Color rebloomed across his cheeks, but he didn’t shy away from the bewildered stare down you were giving him. “He’s my best friend and he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be stepping on any toes. He…knows how I feel about you.” When you only continued to stare at him, he nervously added, “Who do you think got me the reservation for this place to begin with? The waitlist is literally a year out.”

“I’m sorry, I just—” You pulled back so you could reach for your wineglass, allowing yourself a few healthy sips to give your mouth something to do other than flap about like an idiot while you stalled. Jimin didn’t call you out on it, just waited patiently and topped off your glass when you set it back down again. 

You took a few steadying breaths, ultimately choosing to lean back closer to Jimin. To the casual onlooker, the two of you were just another couple making heart eyes over a romantic dinner. And considering the rather lewd and illegal turn your conversation had just taken in this very public place, that only worked in your favor. “Let me get this straight,” you whispered, carefully choosing your words in case you still managed to garner an unwanted audience. “Taehyung told you the deal he has with me. Months ago.” Jimin nodded. “And you’ve known this entire time about our…arrangement, but never told me you knew.”

“I swear I didn’t at all mean to keep that a secret,” he murmured, expression contrite. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or embarrass you or anything like that, so I’ve just been waiting on you to bring it up at your own pace. But I didn’t take into account that you would never bring it up because you would be under NDA, which, again, now that I say it out loud was an extremely stupid assumption of me not to make. I’m sorry.”

“So. You have feelings for me,” you reiterated, ignoring the delighted shiver that raced up your spine at the words. You had to be sure. “But it didn’t bother you that your best friend…propositioned me? You have no problem with me being…involved with him and his brothers?”

“You were caught between a rock and a hard place and the grind never stops. You know I know that better than anybody,” he replied with a shrug. He swallowed, discreetly ensuring no one was paying the two of you any attention before he added, “You think you’re the only one who’s sucked dick for money?”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping a little before you could catch it. Was he…implying what you thought he was implying? There was no way. You had to be reading into it. 

But ultimately, all of this was irrelevant. When the ghost of Seokjin’s mouth on you came to you unbidden—the phantom weight of Taehyung’s body, the haunting reprimand of Namjoon’s stern hand—

You shook your head, unsuccessfully dispelling those unwanted, lingering thoughts. Your gaze skirted to the table, despondent and embarrassed as you finally set free your hushed admission. “Jimin, I’ve done more than suck dick for my money.” 

There was a pause, an agonizing one that felt like an eternity, and then he was lifting your chin with a finger and guiding you to meet his eyes.

“Again.” He reached for your hands, thumb tracing patterns over your knuckles. His smile was a soft secret. “You think you’re the only one?” 

He held your gaze, not looking away even though your mouth just flapped uselessly as you struggled to regain your bearings. So he did mean—

“Does knowing that bother you?” Jimin asked quietly, expression now carefully neutral. Seriously asking, and giving you the proper space to process and answer. “Does it change anything?”

“No.” The truth, though delayed, left you as easily as a breath. He was still Jimin. “Of course not.”

Jimin’s resulting grin turned his eyes into crescents. “Soooo…what I’m hearing is that we’re clearly on the same page and are both Team Fuck Bitches, Get Money.” 

Boy, did you wish you could smile back. Wish you could share in his obvious relief. But while you assumed his exploits were in the past, the same couldn’t be said for you, who was actively under contract. “Jimin, I’m still…employed,” you couldn’t help but point out. “And still will be for a while. That really doesn’t bother you?”

“It really doesn’t,” he insisted. But your continued hesitance had him pulling back from you, hands busying themselves with reaching for his wineglass as he carefully asked, “Should it? Is there something else I should know?” A couple sips of wine to steel himself before a  cautious, “Do you have feelings for any of them?”

“No!” you blurted. Despite the amount of time and intimacy you had been spending with the Kims, romantic feelings had never even crossed your mind. Your pussy certainly felt some things when she was getting some action, but your heart had never gotten involved. Your heart was too busy crowding in your throat at that very moment, threatening to fling itself at the man in front of you.

Jimin took your sincerity for what it was, a pleased twist to his lips. “Then it’s all fine with me. And again, Tae’s been aware from the beginning that I’ve been intending to ask you out, so that expectation has been there since the beginning. All three of them agreed to the deal knowing that I might be in the picture if I ever decided to put my big boy pants on and tell you how I feel. They’ve been expecting it, so they’re cool with it.”

“They’re cool with it,” you parroted blankly, completely flabbergasted. This was absolutely not how you foresaw this night going, and you never would have thought your life would ever take a turn like this in a million years. “They’re cool with it, and so are you?”

“I don’t mind sharing your time,” he shrugged. “So long as I’m not sharing you.”

“And you don’t see that as the same thing in this…situation?” you asked incredulously. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Jimin puffed out an amused laugh. “Wow, you really are trying to talk me out of this, huh?”

You waved your hands. “Absolutely not, that is the last thing I want! I just. I come with a lot of baggage, and I don’t want any of it to come as a surprise. As busy as I’ve been the last couple weeks? That’s becoming a reoccurring normal. And Jimin, I just feel really shitty.” You swallowed. “Because I can’t promise you everything that you deserve to be promised right now.”

Jimin’s face softened as he listened to you, visibly much more comfortable now that you had successfully reassured him just how badly you wanted this. And oh, did you want it. You weren’t sure how this could ever work, but god did you want it to.

“Not fair,” he repeated under his breath, eyes glazed over in thought. “Hmmm.” 

“Is there anything I could do?” you hedged. You weren’t really sure what that could possibly be, considering the ironclad situation you were in. But now that you had been given a glimmer of your heart’s desire, you couldn’t let it fade away. Not if you could help it.  

His reply wasn’t immediate, still lost in thought. But when his eyes finally refocused on you, smoldering and intense, you couldn’t help the way your breath caught in response, the way your heart quickened. “Here’s an idea of what we can do to make it fair. What if you continue to work for them, just as you are now. And then…” 

He was thoughtlessly swirling his wineglass, momentum pulling the ruby liquid into slow, circling waves that would be rather hypnotizing if you weren’t already caught in the snare of his gaze. When he leaned across the table again, the way you followed suit was as easy as breathing. A lovesick sailor willingly lured to possible danger by a siren’s song. “Whatever you do for them, you do for me. How does that sound?” 

You let out a soft breath, just the thought of it immediately electrifying your every atom. Sparks danced excitedly beneath your skin, his soft, sultry tone curling your toes in their shoes. 

“Fair.”

His Adam’s apple dipped excitedly, lips parting.

“So sorry to interrupt,” someone suddenly said from beside you. It was the waiter again. You had completely forgotten about him. Completely forgotten everything other than the restless tap of Jimin’s fingers against the table. “I just wanted to check in to see if you were ready to order?” 

“Yes, I think so.” You didn’t look away from Jimin—still hadn’t even glanced at the menu. Your tongue swiped over your lips, and his gaze darkened in response. 

“But I think we’d like it to go.”

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Cramps and Cuddy

Summary: Reader goes to work despite feeling terrible and being on her period which is always rather bad for her. Luckily she gets help from Dr Cuddy who takes good care of her.

TW: nausea (no vomiting though), fainting, periods

Words: 3.5k

A/n NEW FANDOMMMMM also I’m alive. Just been … livin my best life :)

To say you felt bad was an understatement. Somewhere between the stress and busyness of your life as a doctor you had managed to only notice the absence of your period by the time it had been missing for four going on five months.

This happened to you sometimes. When you were stressed or overworked your period would take a vacation, but it would always be back with vengeance. The longer it was away the worse the force in which it came back with.

You honestly were considering calling out of work. Your mid section was rolling with cramps, and you felt vaguely nauseous, not to mention how heavy it was.

You cursed any god that would listen as you heard your phone ring, knowing it would be exactly the opposite of what you wanted, a day off.

Sucking in a breath, you snatched your phone off the bedside table and answered the call. Half expecting the voice to belong to your asshat of a boss, you were pleasantly surprised to hear from your boss's boss. Who was much sweeter and more palatable when you felt this terrible. However, that wouldn’t change the content of the call.

“Hello?” You answered still feeling exhausted which was reflected in your voice which was deeper and slightly more gravelly than normal despite the abundance of oestrogen in your body right now.

“Hey y/n.” Dr Cuddy’s voice sounded down the phone. “I saw your text asking to stay home today but I’m afraid house is out today probably causing misery elsewhere. I need you and the ducklings to come in to cover his caseload and clinic hours for today and possibly the rest of the week.” She said with a sigh of someone who was used to dealing with houses unexplained absences and unpredictable yet highly mapped schedule. It wasn’t a matter of organising it that was the issue, Cuddy mapped houses day down to bathroom breaks but it was more a matter of if he followed it, which was almost never to be precise.

“Alright.” You sighed steeling yourself to deal with getting ready. “When do you need me and what am I doing?” You asked.

“If it’s alright with you I wanted the ducklings to cover the tricky cases and you and I can split houses clinic hours so we should be done early.” She said sounding slightly apologetic for making you come in.

“Ok, when do you need me in?” You asked rubbing your palm to your eye as a headache began to press itself against your skull behind your eye socket.

“As soon as possible if you can.” Cuddy said sounding more guilty than apologetic now.

“Ok. See you in roughly twenty minutes Dr Cuddy.” You said before she bid her farewells and ended the call.

You spent around two of your twenty minutes staring at the wall opposite your bed and struggling to plan how you were going to survive clinic duty while feeling so awful yourself. But Cuddy needed you and you prided yourself on your work ethic and to blatantly refuse to help would only end with you laying in bed all day feeling guilty. Which, when mixed with hormones was never going to end any other way than with tears and self loathing.

Drawing a deep breath, you held it for a second and exhaled through your mouth. Steeling your nerves you stood up and the room spun for a second, but it steadied before you went crashing to the floor. Gritting your teeth you slowly begun to painstaking process of getting ready for work. You had to sit to brush your hair as standing too long made your head feel floaty and the room would start spinning.

After detangling your bedhead and applying some product you scrunched some mousse to keep the curls and threw on some scrubs. Looking slightly more presentable but still feeling atrocious, you grabbed your bus card opting not to drive to work today due to the pain you were in. Those two Panadol you had taken earlier doing nothing to help with the pain in your midsection.

One very rough bus trip later you stepped into the foyer and crossed the reception area to the lift. As you pressed the button and the doors closed, the lift lurched upwards. You reached blindly for the rail as it threw you off balance feeling slightly dizzy still and using your other hand to protect your midsection with tossed with nausea at the unexpected and sudden movements of the life.

When you stepped off onto the clinic floor you took a moment to slip on your doctor's face despite still looking a few shades to pale to be considered your normal pallor.

Approaching the nurse behind the desk she looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before simply handing you a stack of files. You nodded at her thankfully, not feeling like you could open your mouth without spewing on the desk at this point and headed to an empty exam room.

You thumbed through the files and fought down another wave of nausea before feeling ready to take on your first patient of the day. Swollowing back the thick feeling in your throat you took a deep breath and called in your first for the day.

You hadn’t seen Cuddy yet, so she was most likely already busy with patients like you.

After seeing two or three people, you had already lost count due to the pounding in your head only exacerbated by the flickering fluorescent lights overhead, you stepped back into the waiting room. Your eyes locked with Dr Cuddy who had been handing a file to the nurse behind the desk. A whirlwind of emotions crossed her face upon see your state. Ranging from shock to worry to neutral. She said her thanks to the nurse and began to head over to you. Panicking you called for your next patient. And before Cuddy could pull you aside, she was waylaid by a panicked patient begging to be seen next. Something about a ringing noise that just wouldn’t stop.

By the time Cuddy looked back to where you had been you were gone along with your patient. The door to exam room one shut behind the both of you. Cuddy frowned but took the man into a room to deal with.

It was another half an hour before you saw her again. You had moved onto a new patient’s file when the door cracked open, and Cuddy poked her head in. She scanned the room before finding it empty bar yourself as she slipped inside and sat on the exam bed.

“Y/n.” She said her voice slightly stern.

“Yes Dr?” You said feigning ignorance to her disapproval.

“You shouldn’t be working; you look dead on your feet. How much sleep did you get last night? You should have told me you were sick, and I would have had Wilson cover for house while you got some rest.” She said crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m not sick. I’m fine. Just tired.” You said deflecting.

“You're squinting.” She said matter of factly.

“And?” You asked.

“You only do that when you have a headache or a migraine. The fact you’ve reread that file three times since I came in here leads me to believe it’s not a particularly gently one either. You have dark smudges under your eyes and wether you realise it or not your left hand is protecting your stomach. And since I know your note pregnant, your either nauseous or hungry and I saw you wrinkle your nose at the smell of a patients' granola bar, so I know it’s the former. You're fighting with your pen which you only do when your anxious and your tight posture tells me you're in pain. How far off am I?” She asked softly.

“And they call house the genius.” You scoffed and sunk your head into your hands. A second later you felt a gently hand rubbing up and down your back as you leant into it.

“You can’t be feeling well.” Cuddy said sympathetically before pausing her movements.

Gently she spun the chair around and pried your hands from your face, shielding them from the light with her left hand as she used the back of her right to gauge the temprature of your forehead.

“Darling, your warm.” She said.

“No, I’m tired.” You said feeling worse for making her worry.

“Who says you can’t be both.” She said softly. “You need to rest. I’m giving your clinic hours to Wilson.” She decided as she gently stroked your hair from your face with her manicured nails.

“Now, how about we start with how your feeling? What are your symptoms and how long have you been feeling this way?” She asked softly.

“Well, it all begun when I was fourteen and ever since I’ve been cursed to suffer each month for roughly three to six days.” You said and Cuddy frowned sympathetically.

“What are you feeling?” She asked keeping her voice low.

“Headache, light sensitivity, nausea, loss of appetite, cramps, lightheaded when I stand up and dizzy. Sometimes the rooms spinning when it shouldn’t be, and the smell of food makes me want to throw up. And it’s too warm.” You said and Cuddy looked worried.

“How about you rest in my office, and I’ll come check on you when I can. I’ll drive you home after my shift as your sure as hell in no state to get yourself home.” She said. “We can turn the lights out and turn the AC on to lower your temperature. Ok?” She asked.

You swallowed and nodded.

“Nauseous?” She asked and you nodded.

“Like you're going to be sick?” She asked and you paused for a second before shaking your head no. “Alright.” She said grabbing a sick bag from the cupboard anyway.

“‘M n’t gonna be sick.” You mumbled still clutching your mid section.

“Better safe than sorry love.” Cuddy said softly as she tucked the sickbag into her coat pocket. “You feel ready to move to my office yet?” She asked hovering nearby.

“No.” You deadpanned.

“Well, its either that or a stretcher and I’m pretty sure you don’t want that.” She joked, offering you her hand to take.

“I feel terrible.” You said shaking your head and accidentally making the room spin and tip. You groaned holding your head with one hand.

“Oh honey, come on you’ll feel better.” She said softly.

“Alright.” You said tentatively taking her hand as she gently pulled you to your feet. She tucked you into her side as you began to sway dangerously from side to side.

“Don’t pass out on me now.” She joked and you smiled slightly.

“Don’t tempt me. And I make no promises.” You said feeling worse with each step you took.

You were still tucked under Cuddy’s arm as she supported most of your weight as you passed the nurses station, drawing a few pairs of eyes as you went. Cuddy’s attentive gaze switched to her ‘Dean of medicine’ look as she challenged any of the onlookers to say something. They all went back to work as Cuddy let you into her office.

You felt awful, the short trip somehow taking what little energy you had left away from you.

You saw a small pile of files on the couch and Cuddy swore softly knowing she’d have to move them for you too lay down.

“Can you stand on your own for a second while I sort this out?” She asked sounding hesitant to leave you based on how much you were leaning on her for support.

“Mmhmm.” You said with a weak nod.

Cuddy hesitated but slipped out from your side. She watched as you swayed for a second and gave her a weak thumbs up. She chuckled with worry before quickly moving to sort out the couch.

While Cuddy fussed with the files you felt the colour draining from your face. Your head spun and began to float away as your vision went patchy. You felt your body began to drop before you fell into nothingness. The impact never reaching your unconscious mind.

While Cuddy cleared away the files she kept glancing back at you. Stopping when she saw the colour draining from your face as you swayed. She swore softly and quickly crossed the room as your body dropped.

Cuddy half leapt the last few steps towards you, getting to you just in time to wrap an arm around your torso and another under your head. She gently lowered you to the ground with your head resting in her lap as her legs were folded under her. Your face was extremely pale as she gently tapped your cheek to try and rouse you.

“Y/n? Y/n.” She repeated her concern growing by the second. She glanced at the clock taking note of the time, her doctor skills kicking in to time your episode.

After almost half a minute your eyes began to flutter. Cuddy gently stroked your cheek with one finger as she repeated your name.

Your eyes finally opened, and you groaned.

“Y/n? Are you with me?” She asked softly. You smacked your lips making Cuddy smile slightly despite her worry for you.

“Yeah, I think so.” You said with a frown.

“You think.” She teased softly.

“Mmm.” You hummed shutting your eyes again.

“Nope. Keep those eyes open for me love.” She said tapping your cheek. Your skin was still ghostly pale.

“What happened?” You groaned, ignoring Cuddy's request and keeping your eyes shut.

“You passed out.” She said softly. “Do you feel ready to move to the couch?” She asked. And you shook your head.

“Rooms spinni’g.” You said.

“Alright.” Cuddy frowned. “Can I pick you up?” She asked softly.

“You can try.” You said with a half chuckle.

Cuddy, with more ease than you were expecting, gently lifted you off the floor and set you down on her couch. You gave her a questioning look.

“Im stronger than I look.” She said brushing a curl from your face and frowning. “Your warm still.” She noted. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Not going anywhere.” You groaned and she smiled despite her mounting worry for you.

Your eyes began to drift shut from the exhaustion.

Next thing you knew you felt someone’s thumb on your lip. Opening your eyes slightly, you saw Cuddy standing over you ask she pulled your lip down with her thumb and you opened your mouth as she stuck the thermometer under your tongue. With a gentle finger under your chin, she shut your mouth.

“Keep that there for a second alright?” She asked and you nodded. Eyes drifting shut again.

Cuddy pulled her chair over to sit next to the couch as she pulled out her laptop and balanced it on her knees.

“How are you feeling now?” She asked as she gently rubbed your bicep.

You looked at her with sad eyes and gave her a thumbs down with a shrug. Cuddy frowned and nodded.

“Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be right here, ok?” She said and you nodded before letting your eyes drift shut again.

Barely a second later you heard the thermometer beep, and you opened an eye to see Cuddy typing on her laptop with one hand while using the other to keep the thermometer in your mouth. You must have fallen asleep.

Cuddy looked up from her concentration on the third beep and gave you a soft smile seeing you awake. She gently took the device from between your lips and turned the small screen over. Her brows pinched as she read the number. 102.4 a high fever.

“Alright.” She said taking note of your flushed cheeks and pale face. “I’ll be right back.” She said and you nodded.

She returned a second later having grabbed an ice pack and cloth from the nurse's station. Gently she lifted your head with one hand and placed the ice pack wrapped in its cloth under your neck before lowering your head back down onto the pillow.

She paused looking you up and down and mentally cataloging your visible symptoms. “How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Terrible.” You responded bluntly.

“Are they usually this bad?” She asked.

“No. I’ve just been stressed, and I missed a month or five because of … I don’t even know … probably stress?” You said phrasing it almost like a question.

“You sure you're not pregnant?” She asked gently. You scrunched your nose at the question.

“Um… no way?” You said. Cuddy raised a brow at your tone.

“Are you sure?”

“Unless you can suddenly get pregnant without sex or a man, then yes I am.” You said and she nodded. “Im ace … and a lesbian. I doubt my equally ace girlfriend would be impressed if I was pregnant.” You said with a grin and Cuddy laughed.

“Yeah, that’ll be a definite no on the pregnancy question then.” She grinned.

At that moment a particularly sharp cramp hit, and you curled up slightly. Cuddy frowned as you screwed your eyes shut against the pain.

“I’m going to go find you some pain killers. I know I have some around here somewhere due to how much of a headache seems to follow ever visit from house.” She said and you nodded.

“I need to …” you said trailing off and cheeks flushing. “I need to change my pad.” You said with a burning blush.

“Alight. Do you have what you need?” She asked and when you stayed quiet, she added, “There are spare pads and tampons under the sink in my bathroom, help yourself.” She said and you nodded. “Do you need any help?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Maybe just to get there and back.” You added after a second, chewing on your lip.

Cuddy gently removed your bottom lip from between your teeth with her thumb and a tender almost motherly look as she helped you sit upright.

She took most of your weight as the two of you slowly walked to the bathroom. Once you made it there you thanked her and after she checked you were ok, shut the door.

You changed your pad and took mental stock of your body while looking yourself up and down in the mirror. You looked rough to put it nicely.

After taking a breath to gather yourself you opened the door. Cuddy walked back over from her desk and helped you back to the couch. You still felt dizzy, and Cuddy passed you an unscrewed bottle of water. You took it mumbling a thank you.

Cuddy studied you closely as you swayed slightly sitting up.

“If you pass out again, I’m admitting you, got it?” She said with a firmness in her voice that left no room for arguments.

You nodded and sipped the water. After barely any you tried to put it back but Cuddy stopped you.

“You need to stay hydrated.” She said guiding your hand with the bottle back to your lips. “Blood loss makes that especially important on your period.” She added and you sipped the water some more.

Feeling slightly less lightheaded you laid back down.

“Tired?” Cuddy asked. And you nodded.

“Yeah.” You whispered. “Tired and sore.” You agreed and Cuddy smiled down at you brushing the hair from your face.

“You’ll be alright. Take a nap. I’m going to do some work; I’ll be just over there.” She said pointing at her desk and you nodded, already drifting off.

Cuddy worked quietly, praying nobody would disturb her as you slept.

An hour passed, then two and Cuddy knew she had to wake you up soon to change your pad and have some more pain medicine.

Checking the time, she paged Wilson to bring a sandwhich and a wrap to her office. It was past lunch and you hadn’t eaten. She was hoping you’d be able to stomach some food despite your nausea.

Cuddy prepared some pain meds and cracked open another bottle of water before gently kneeling down beside you and rubbing your back.

“Y/n.” She whispered softly as your eyes fluttered open.

“Mmm.” You groaned stretching out like a cat in the sun and making Cuddy smile slightly.

“Time for meds and a bathroom break.” Cuddy said and you nodded. Taking the meds you stood, swaying before Cuddy stabilised you with an arm around your shoulders before helping you to the bathroom.

Whilst you changed your pad Wilson came and left the food with Cuddy, having been paged himself to tend to a patient.

After you and Cuddy had eaten with minimal issues you returned to resting on the couch feeling safe and well looked after you were able to drift off to sleep again. Knowing you’d be ok with Cuddy watching over you.

[embrosegraves]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝔹𝕖, 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝔹𝕖

(request) Max Verstappen x ftm!Driver!Reader (he/they) I named the child Peter :P

Warnings: pregnancy, talks of mental health, crying. Let me know if I missed any <3

Max could tell that there was something bothering you. He prided himself on being able to tell when his loving partner was stressed because that meant that he could help you. Throughout the whole day Max found himself struggling to think of what could possibly be the reason for your stress. It was possible that it was because being both a parent and an F1 Driver was a difficult thing to do. But you had assured Max months ago that you loved being both. 

Could it be because your son, Peter, was at the beginning of the ‘Terrible Twos’? It was possible but wasn’t the most likely. By the time you were both back in your hotel room, Peter sleeping peacefully on the middle of the hotel bed, Max was almost as stressed as you were. 

“Schat?” Max called to you. You had spent the last 30 minutes in the bathroom and he was getting more worried every second. 

You walked out of the bathroom, still in shock about the news you found out this morning. How were you going to tell Max? It was hard enough the first time around. You look at Max as you walk towards him. 

“What’s up Lovie?” 

“I should be asking you that, Y/n/n.” He took your hands in his and gently sat you both on the couch at the end of the bed. “You’ve been stressed about something all day and for the life of me I can not figure it out.”

“Max-” You went to reply but Max was in his own world asking you more questions. 

“Is your period bothering you? I know you told me that you still get them. Are the cramps worse than usual? Do you need some medicine? I can go get some if you need-”

“Max.” This time your voice was more firm, something that Max caught onto instantly. It was only slightly different to the voice you used when Peter was misbehaving and you needed to get his attention. “Max it’s not- it’s not my period.” 

“Oh. Well, that’s good? Right?”

You sighed before turning to fully face Max on the couch. You gripped his hands tighter before you spoke. You knew you had to tell him.

“The problem is that it’s not my period. I was supposed to start on my period around three days ago, but I didn’t. I only just noticed last night before bed. I thought that maybe it was just an irregular period, but then I thought about how my cycle was before we found out about Peter. I took a test this morning and- and-” 

You couldn’t continue. Thankfully Max was smart enough to know what you were trying to tell him. Before Peter was born, you and Max had decided that you would be a One and Done family. It made sense at the time, what with you constantly fighting the thoughts in your head saying that maybe you were faking your identity. You had never wanted to go through that ever again. Yet here you were, telling him that you were pregnant with another baby Verstappen. 

Upon realising that he hadn’t said anything yet, Max bundled you into his arms and held you tight. It was exactly the reassurance you needed before you started to cry. Shushing you gently, Max started to softly stroke your hair. 

“We will figure this out Y/n. I promise you that.” Max was never a person that showed his emotions often, but he couldn’t help the tears that began gathering in his eyes. “We will survive this. When we get back home, I’ll schedule an appointment for you. Just in case this is a false positive.”

“What if it’s not?” You croaked out, voice hoarse from crying. 

Max didn’t once stop stroking your hair as he spoke. “If it’s not a false positive then I will help you get through this. I can call the therapist we used for Peter’s pregnancy and we can start going again. I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable so if this is something you find out you don’t want, I will find a way to fix it.” 

Your sniffles had died down by now, but Max had no intention of letting you go from his arms. You had told him years ago that you always felt safest when in his arms and Max would rather die than let you feel unsafe when you were vulnerable. 

“Max…” 

“Yes, Liefde?” 

“The pregnancy test wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about today…” 

“What else was worrying you?” Max asked, confused. He hadn’t thought that your visible stress from the day had been because of two different things. Looking back now, it should have been obvious that there was more than one thing on your mind. 

You hesitated to tell him. This thought that had been occupying a large portion of your mind lately was arguably harder to speak out loud than telling him that you were pregnant was. 

“You don’t have to worry about how I’ll react. I promise you that nothing you say will upset me.” Sometimes you hated how Max knew the exact thing to tell you in every situation. 

“I think I’m going to retire soon.”

“Okay.” 

You raised your head sharply, almost hitting the bottom of Max’s chin in the process. 

“Okay?” 

Max nodded and looked you directly in your eyes for a second before moving the hair away from your forehead and gazing at the rest of your face. 

“If you feel like you need to retire, then you retire. I’ll support our family and I will make sure that none of us could ever want for anything.” 

Your eyes started to water. You placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. Max’s eyes fluttered closed as you pulled him in. Breaking apart for some air, Max rested your foreheads together. 

It was quiet for a while before he broke the silence. 

“I will always look after you. I never want you to feel like you are at war with yourself. You will always be my handsome boy, Mijn Liefde. I will always be here to help you. I will take care of us. I promise you that.”

I hope you enjoyed <3 honestly this was so much fun to plan out and the write like I don't think I've ever enjoyed writing something this much i loved doing this

[generallycharmingcriminalminds]

Angel In The Snow

Summary: Modern AU where Nicky died, and months later, on Christmas Eve Agatha and Rio see each other at Nicky's grave.

Warnings: Hurt/slight comfort, referenced child's death, like one curse word, exes who still love each other.

Word Count: 1,319 words

Christmas Eve morning, what had once been one of Agatha’s favorite days, now spent standing in front of the cemetery, in the snow, trying to get the nerve to enter. Eight months, and it still ripped her heart out just thinking of the funeral. The one she loved the most standing beside her silently as they watched the coffin lower into the ground, the rest of her heart inside. Agatha tightened her grip on the bouquet of purple azaleas in her hand as she forced her feet forward, making her way towards the grave she came to see. A shuddering breath escaped her as she crouched in front of a headstone, reaching a gloved hand out to brush the snow away, revealing the name. Nicholas Harkness-Vidal. Nicky, her pride and joy, her little boy, forever six years old.

The illness had come quick, there still wasn’t a name for it, or treatments, so Agatha had been forced to watch her little boy deteriorate by the day, his own body betraying him. She never understood exactly what the geneticist had told her and Rio…Rio, the woman Agatha loved, still loves, even after their divorce. Neither woman ever reached acceptance in their stages of grief, both staying in anger, at the situation, and at Rio. It had been something to do with Rio’s egg that caused Nicky’s illness, at least that was how the doctor’s had explained it to Rio and Agatha in the hallway of Boston Children’s Hospital.

Agatha and Rio divorced not even two months after the funeral, unable to look at each other without screaming, if Rio was even home. Being a badass FBI agent meant she was rarely home even when Nicky was alive and well. But once he got sick, and eventually passed she claimed it was just too hard, leading to one of the worst fights they ever had in their almost ten year long marriage, the fight that led to their divorce.

“Being here is hard for you? Seriously, Rio? You were never here!” Agatha had screamed at her wife.

“I tried, I am trying. But at least you got to be here for him, make sure he knew he was never alone. You got to help him with his homework after school, drive him to sports, be here for dinner, his bedtime routine. You knew his favorite food, favorite color, stuffed animal, everything, unlike me. You got to be his mother, in every way that counts. Thanks to my job, and the crazy schedule I work, the most maternal thing I did for him was use my egg for his conception, and that’s what killed him,” Rio had replied softly, tears in her eyes, no fight left in her anymore as she avoided Agatha’s furious, hate filled expression.

“I wish we had never used your egg! We should have used mine, it would’ve saved us money, and probably wouldn’t have killed him! I want a divorce, Rio, you look too much like him, and I hate you for it.”

“Aggie…” Rio started, but a cold look from Agatha shut her up.

“It should’ve been you, not him.” With that Agatha had turned on her heel, storming out of the room.

Agatha shook her head, as if that would make the memory of her cruel words go away. She didn’t really hate Rio for her resemblance to Nicky, or blame her for Nicky’s death. But Nicky had Rio’s dimples, and her smile, and her unnatural ways of sitting in chairs that simultaneously drove Agatha insane and made her smile. It had all been too much seeing the woman she loved, and also seeing her little boy in Rio. So once the divorce had been finalized Agatha packed up her life, sold the house, and moved from Salem Massachusetts to Westview New Jersey, a small town where no one knew her as Agatha Harkness, the stay at home mother who tragically lost her only child. Instead they knew her as one of the best cops in the whole department.

She’d even made friends in Westview, Jennifer Kale, a cosmetic company founder. Lilia Calderu, a fortune teller who Agatha knew was just scamming people, but somehow it was legal. And Alice Wu-Gulliver, a fellow cop whose mother had once been a well-known rockstar, apparently. But Agatha wasn’t sitting in front of her son’s headstone on Christmas Eve to think about them.

Agatha carefully set the bouquet of azaleas on the ground in front of Nicky’s headstone, a shaky breath leaving her as she wiped her eyes, realizing she had started crying. “Hi, baby, mami and I both miss you, with all of our hearts. I’m sorry you had to hear us fight so much when you got sick, and I’m sure you saw it get worse, because there is not a doubt in my mind you’re keeping an eye on both of us, just like Santa if you think about it. I wish it had been me instead of you…parents aren’t meant to bury their children.” Agatha heard the snow crunching under someone’s relatively quiet steps, but she didn’t turn, assuming the person would just pass by, they didn’t.

“You and I both know he’d hate hearing you talk like that, Agatha. You’re right, parents aren’t meant to bury their children, but six year olds aren’t meant to bury their parents either,” a voice behind her said quietly, and it just made the tears slip down Agatha’s cheeks more. She didn’t turn her head as Rio crouched next to her, placing a bouquet of green azaleas, her gloved hand finding Agatha’s without thinking. “I saw you sold the house,” she said, attempting to make small talk, some sort of connection.

“Yeah, I couldn’t stay there, every time I turned a corner I expected him to come running up to me, wanting cuddles. The ghosts of the happy family the three of us once were was too much to overcome…”

“Just like our divorce.” There was no anger, or resentment, just sadness and understanding in Rio’s tone. “You know, Salem hasn’t had a white Christmas since the year Nicky was born,” Rio noted, looking up, some of the flakes catching on her eyelashes, and melting on her face.

Agatha nodded in agreement, moving to rest her head against Rio’s. “Our little boy’s watching over us,” she said hoarsely, and she believed it.

When they both left the cemetery a little while later Agatha finally met Rio’s eyes for the first time. Both had dark circles under their eyes, neither slept well anymore. “Do you…maybe…wanna get a cup of coffee, just for old time’s sake? No expectations, just two people who’ve known each other for years?” Rio inquired.

“Unfortunately I can’t. I have to get back to Westview because a friend of mine is having a Christmas party tonight, I’m sorry,” Agatha answered, her tone surprisingly sheepish as she glanced away from her ex-wife.

“Oh, well, it was worth a shot. Merry Christmas, Aggie.” Rio hadn’t even noticed she used that old nickname, but Agatha did as Rio turned, starting to walk away.

Before Agatha could think things through, or even at all she called after Rio. “Wait, what are your plans for Christmas?”

“No clue, probably unpacking my apartment that I’ve been living in for six months and haven’t done anything with,” Rio admitted, now the sheepish one.

Agatha scoffed, shaking her head. “Come on, Nicky would be disappointed in me if I let his mami spend Christmas alone. You’re coming to New Jersey, and staying in my guest room.” Her tone made it clear Agatha wasn’t going to accept any arguments from Rio.

What neither of them could see was Nicky watching from above, smiling ever so slightly. He didn’t know if his mama and mami would find their way back to each other, but for the first time since before he died, he had hope.

[wordsandrobots]

So I've never seen anyone badmouth Gaelio as often as you, besides the ones that rightfully complain that he shouldn't have come back. Not that I wholly disagree, but what are your reasons?

Oh, anon. No, no, no. No, you have to understand, I *adore* Gaelio. He's perfect, vengeance arc and all. He is my absolute favourite chew toy. I wouldn't have spent so long writing fanfic focused on what happens to him, mentally speaking, post-canon if I didn't love the obnoxious lavender-tousled prick to death.

Gaelio Bauduin is a man fucked over by his social position, a sweet kid scarred by having been born into an aristocracy, who nevertheless retains enough of a moral compass to change for the better. He learns. He grows. He cares for those closest to him with an earnestness that belies his snobbish, flippant attitude. He genuinely, uncomplicatedly commits to justice and loyalty in ways his upbringing ought by rights to have beaten out of him.

He is additionally the single biggest reason the story ends as badly as it does, on account of being the most hideously self-absorbed dipstick on the face of the solar system.

(Second most hideously self-absorbed, we do have to factor in Iok.)

In another story, Gaelio's gradual dawning realisation that the attitudes he was taught are bullshit would be a process of redemption. His experiences with Ein, his compassion towards Carta, his vitriolic semi-mentor/semi-friend relationship with Julieta, his apology to Mikazuki -- these are the markers of someone learning to be a better person. In another story, he'd be learning to be a hero.

But in this story, his slow personal journey isn't what's important. What matters is how it interacts with a world too cynical to run on heroic narratives. Elion uses him as a political wedge. Tekkadan do not give a rat's arse about what he thinks. McGillis allows no room for an epiphany concerning their friendship until it is far, far too late. In imagining the scales had fallen from his eyes, he railroaded himself into the biggest screw-up of his life.

It's not completely his fault. As I said, he's used and rejected by others, and McGillis did have a damn good go at murdering him. But if he had been slightly more open-minded, slightly more willing to put his money where his mouth was when it came to his disapproval of Gjallarhorn's actions, and slightly less prone to making everything about his feelings -- well maybe he wouldn't have ended a broken, wistful shell of his former self, voluntarily disabling himself and regretting everything he didn't understand.

It's *beautiful*. Seriously. The tenor of your question leads me to believe I should restate my opinion that Iron-Blooded Orphans is a near-perfectly executed tragedy. When I say Gaelio is 'Always Wrong (TM)', I mean that is the part he plays in the tale. The man who makes every possible mistake he could in the course of getting exactly what he thought he wanted. It's a narrative role and he is a fantastic way of filling it because unlike Iok (who exists entirely as a hate-sink), Gaelio *does* have redeeming characteristics. He's loyal and principled. Passionate and determined. Able to adjust his world-view based on his experiences. Ultimately capable of swallowing his pride and admitting he was wrong.

And it doesn't matter one single jot. Things still end in flames, not just in spite of his attempts to do right by those he accidentally doomed but because of those actions.

Also he's a melodramatic brat who canonically used to flirt using Norse mythology, repeatedly injured people on his own side by mistake, got his arse handed to him by children (again, repeatedly), adopted the most on-theme moniker he could while wearing a doofy mask for months on end, and spent Season 1 with a crush on the world's least-hinged cop-brained class-traitor. I denigrate his character in precise proportion to which it is presented as lamentable.

Anyway, to lay off the verbosity for a minute, please also understand that if my opinion on a character is negative in the sense of 'I think the writers fucked this up', I'm unlikely to spend much time creatively cussing them out. For instance, to pick another Gundam example, I don't enjoy Shinn from SEED:Destiny. I get what the writing is going for with him and I think it's a neat plot concept, but I find the actual result grating. It's the same for a lot of the cast. Overall, I just don't rate that show very highly. So I don't talk about it, and I don't expend effort to dig into narrative roles, how characters come across, what that means for other parts of the story, etc. To put it bluntly, it's not worth my time, especially when there are people who *do* like SEED and don't need me raining on their parade.

But I enjoy watching Gaelio and that's exactly why I bad-mouth him. It's more than a passing joke; it's part and parcel of what I love about how Gaelio is implemented, that he's that much of an aristocratic nitwit, and that even when he's making moves towards the broadly 'good' end of the moral spectrum, he's still got a deeply hierarchical attitude. This is a man who, in the middle of quite understandably wanting to get back at somebody who tried to assassinate him, reflects on enjoying being in the heat of battle again after having just beaten-up/killed a bunch of workers trying to break free of colonial rule. There is a *lot* you can dig into about what (and who) Gaelio sees as important and how his attitudes are a perpetual work-in-progress, constrained both by his assumptions and by the alliances he has to make in order to pursue his revenge.

It's well executed, as I said, and I happen to find it extremely compelling. Certainly more so than if he hadn't been resurrected because the show-runners liked his voice actor's performance.

[v1b3ss]

𝔸𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕥𝕒𝕤

Fluff, crack, the Arbiter and Rtas being childish, sleep deprived reader, reader doesn't talk much, possible ooc??

✧|| Request!

"Your time with the human is done. Relinquish it to me and I won't call upon my battalion for your inability to honor deals."

The Arbiter's gaze narrowed as Rtas accused him of not holding up his end of the deal. He held you closer against his armored body, which wasn't exactly comfortable, but it's the thought that counts.

"You are the dishonorable one. You spent 325 seconds more with the human than I did. I am evening the playing field and amending our deal for your mistakes," he rebutted, steadfast in his objective to make things even.

You, on the other hand, were less thrilled about this entire ordeal. While it was nice having two absurdly strong, powerful, and influential space creatures squabble over you, they sounded like a bunch of old politicians. You wondered if this was how the founding fathers sounded when the constitution was made.

While the Arbiter and Rtas were arguing, speaking more and more Sangheili (which you most definitely did not speak other than "WORT WORT WORT"). As they debated who was less honorable, you wriggled out from under the Arbiter's arms. Must've been nice to so quickly relieve yourself of back pain. I'm still suffering.

The two were loud enough that you could walk away calmly and not worry about them hearing your footsteps as you slink off without them noticing. Speaking of not noticing, you wondered how the Arbiter didn't notice how you had squirmed out of his grasp. Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of your body that kept him calm and unrealized of your absence. Well- as calm as he can be whilst in yet another predicament with Rtas.

------------LATER-------------

"HUMAN!!"

You awoke from your slumber with a jump, eyes blown wide as you frantically searched around for the abrupt noise. The doors of your barracks were burst open with both Sanghili standing there looking rather panicked. Once they saw you, however, they both visibly relaxed. Then, in an almost comical manner, they looked at each other, blinked, and then both dashed forwards in an attempt to get to you first.

Rtas was faster, scooping you up and holding you in the air with a triumphant huff. "Aha! The human is mine," he declared with pride.

The Arbiter was quick to grab Rtas' hand and pry it off of you, grabbing you for himself. "You dare to lay claim to the human who so clearly prefers my presence? Insolent fool!"

You let out an irritated sigh and thought to yourself, 'If these two idiots don't kill me with their stupidity, I'll have to do it mysel-' However, in the middle of your thought, you were ungracefully dropped onto the floor with an audible thud.

Looking up at the two massive beasts, you noticed that they were, once again, arguing about who had dropped you and who should face the punishment.

'God, I hate these two...' you thought to yourself. They were childish, truly. Two feared Sangheili fighting over a human they had captured in battle a few months ago. It was amusing, yes, but inconvenient when it came to your sleep schedule.

You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking right in between the two squabbling aliens, gently pushing them out of the way and making a beeline to your bed. You plopped down with a sigh and pulled the covers over yourself, turning so that your back was facing the two now quiet Sangheili.

Once the two saw just how visibly exhausted you were, they had become silent, just staring at you. Rtas crossed his arms and quietly said, "I often forget the fragility of humans. Specifically those not on par with the Demon."

The Arbiter sighed and begrudgingly replied, "As much as it pains me to do so, I agree. It seems the human has been worn out. Not uncommon for Earthlings."

Rtas nodded and they both fell silent once more.

After you had fallen asleep under the watchful gaze of the two, the Arbiter spoke up once again in a hushed tone. "Let the human rest. We shall settle this in the morning."

With a reluctant sigh, Rtas responded. "Indeed. Let us depart."

You briefly heard the closing of the barracks door as you turned over in your bed, having woken up at the sound of voices again, but quickly fell back into a peaceful slumber for the first time in two months.

𓋼𓍊 Hello everyone! Thank you for reading and I apologize for this taking so long. This was a request from @jiren123456, so thank you for requesting! Once again, I apologize for my inactivity, but I'm back now. Have a marvelous day darlings!

-Vibes🪐

[propertyofsamcollins]

"You see strength in my weakness"

Sam/Darlin' fic

796 words

A/n: Guess who finally finished a fic🤭 it took me way too long to finish this. I started months ago, but anywhooo, I hope you enjoy.

Darlin’ was nervous, and Sam could see it.

While they didn’t talk about their feelings much, Sam had learned that they expressed them with their body language.

The way they kept fiddling with the rings that adorned their hands, the continuous bouncing of their leg, all pieces of body language that Sam had realized the meaning to over the years.

“Darlin’, you alright? you look like something is eatin’ at you.” Sam asked, effectively breaking his mate out of whatever trance they seemed to be caught in.

“Hm? Oh, yeah I’m okay, just thinking...” They murmured, trailing off at the end, seeming to be caught in whatever loop of thoughts they were in.

“Thinking about what? If you don’t mind me asking,” Sam whispered, not wanting to disturb them too much.

Darlin’ looked up at Sam but stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing their options. Questioning whether they should tell him the thoughts running circles in their mind.

“There's just…” Darlin’ paused for a second. “There’s something I wanna say, but…i uh, i don’t know how to say it”

Sam smiled at that. Though he hated watching them struggle, he loved seeing how much they’d grown in the past 2 years. “Take as much time as you need Darlin’, there's no rush.” Sam stated, smiling, before cupping their face in his hands “I'd wait a thousand lifetimes for you.” And he smiled again, not that he’d stopped, but somehow, it looked brighter. Like the warm sun that he could no longer sit under, it was poetic in a way.

Darlin sat there for a second, simmering in their thoughts. They wanted to tell him just how much they cared for him, they felt they hadn’t expressed it much in the time they’d spent together, unlike Sam who was perfectly okay with reminding them just how much he loved them.

“I just…I appreciate you a lot, y’know?” They paused, looking up at their mate for some sort of confirmation, and Sam nodded, with the loving look in his eye he always seemed to have when staring at them.

“You,” they hesitated for a moment “You let me be weak, and you see strength in it, a lot of people don’t do that, and it means a lot to me” they whispered, voice wavering a bit, the vulnerability they felt at the moment was a lot, but they’d bare with it for him.

They’d do anything for him

Sam cocked his head to the side, a habit he’d picked up after spending so much time with the pack, and Darlin’ smiled at that, a small sense of pride filling them. “I appreciate you too, but I don’t really understand what you mean by ‘I see strength in your weakness’,” the vampire paused for a second, as if he was trying to figure it out himself, “Do you think you could tell me what you mean?” Sam almost whispered softly, his hand coming up to cup their face, while his thumb traced patterns onto their face.

“Well, it’s hard to explain,” Darlin whispered back, “But, basically, when most people see you weak, they tend to forget that you’re still strong.” the shifter explained, “And a lot of people start to treat you like porcelain, even when you don’t need it.” darlin’ paused, gathering their thoughts again, “Like, yeah it was nice when I was crying my eyes out, but I don’t need you to treat me like a piece of glass anymore, y’know?” darlin asked, and Sam nodded.

“Yeah, it’s like once they see you in a bad moment, they treat you like a child having a breakdown,” Sam paraphrased, it made sense to him, and he could definitely see how someone like Darlin’ wouldn’t like that. He knew they were strong, and he treated them as such.

“Exactly!” the shifter exclaimed, practically jumping out of their seat at the prospect of someone finally understanding what they were saying. “I can’t stand it when people do that shit, it irks my nerves.” they huffed, and Sam laughed, nodding along.

The two sat in a comfortable silence, holding eye contact with each other. A smile on both their faces.

“But…” the shifter hesitated again, “You don’t do that,” darlin muttered, smiling a little wider, “You see my weakness, and view it as proof that I’m strong, instead of dismissing my strength.” they whispered, “And I really appreciate it, so, thank you.” they finished, still looking at their mate, staring at Sam like he held the world in those beautiful silver eyes of his.

“Always, Darlin’, always.”

[lauralot89]

Loveless

I'm late on this because the book was published in 2020, but I only heard about it in the last month when I was reading an article about asexuality in fiction but in case anyone is out of the loop like me let me tell you about this glory

Loveless is a YA novel by Alice Oseman, author of Heartstopper and Solitaire. It tells the story of Georgia Warr, freshman at Durham University, and her realization that while she's in love with the idea of romance, the actuality of a romantic/sexual relationship repulses her.

Alice Oseman herself is aroace, which makes perfect sense because throughout the novel I kept asking myself, "How does she know? How does she know?! How did she get these thoughts out of my head?"

for my fellow ace and/or aro people, let me quote some of the lines that just got me straight in the soul:

"I had a theory that a lot of people's "celebrity crushes" were just faked to fit in."

"I was disgusted by the thought of him near me. Wanting things from me. That wasn't normal, was it?"

"Oh, God, this thing is actually real, it's not just in fanfics and movies. And I'm supposed to be doing it too."

"Did I even know what romantic feelings felt like?"

"He was clearly the sort of person who I should like romantically. Who I could like romantically. He looked like a boyfriend. I loved his personality. I'd loved his personality for years. So I could fall in love with him. With a little bit of effort. Definitely."

"I thought I'd understood what all these romantic things would feel like--butterflies and the spark and just knowing when you liked someone. I'd read about these feelings hundreds of times in books and fanfic. I'd watched way more romcoms than was probably normal for an eighteen-year-old. But now I was starting to wonder whether these things were just made up."

"Straight people don't think shit like that."

"Just because I'd never liked anyone didn't mean I never would. Did it?"

"I thought all the movies were exaggerating, but you're all really out there just craving genitals and embarrassment. This has to be some kind of huge joke."

"How could I feel so sad about giving up these things that I did not actually want?"

"I felt like I was grieving. I was grieving this fake life, a fantasy future that I was never going to live."

"How was it fair that everyone got to feel that except me?"

"I never had any crushes when I was a child. Not any real ones, anyway. Sometimes I confused friendships for them, or just thinking a guy was really cool."

"For a long time, I was just dating and having sex because that's what people did. And I wanted to feel like those people."

"You've been so confused about stuff. You really thought we could be together, because you do love me. Not in a romantic way, but just as strongly."

"Oh. This is an asexual thing. I forgot other people are obsessed with having sex."

seriously the entire time I spent with this book I just kept asking "was this written for me specifically?" because that's exactly how it felt.

It is a gorgeous book that explores that bizarre feeling of not knowing the word for what you are, not even knowing that you are something out of the ordinary because we don't define ourselves by what we lack and we just expect that one day, it'll happen and we'll be like everyone else. That struggle of trying to differentiate between loving someone and being in love with them, and trying to make the former into the latter and hurting everything in the process.

It is so good. 10/10, no complaints

also there's an asshole in the university's queer pride group who doesn't think aces belong and everyone hates him so that's fantastic, aphobes fuck off

in conclusion I highly recommend it

[wearentdelulu]

Into you~ Chapter three🔞

The weekend rolled by in a blur. Kook spent the entire time working out and debating on what to say to ‘A’. He didn’t understand why it’s taking him this long to message her, but every time he attempts to type out a message he deletes it. And this pisses him off. Why the hell is he so hesitant? The more he thinks about how ridiculous he’s being the more frustrated he becomes and when he’s frustrated he needs to fuck. It’s the only healthy outlet he can think of.

He calls Yuna only to be left with her voicemail. Is she serious? This is the second time this month that this has happened. What’s the point of a fuck buddy when she’s almost never available? He throws his phone on his bed thinking of something to do to get his mind off of things. He looks at his monitor and thinks if he should stream. Maybe he could tease ‘A’ a little bit. So that’s exactly what he does. As he streams and looks over at the comments he feels a sense of pride knowing that ‘A’ is somewhere in there watching him. She’s probably shaking in her boots as he speaks.

“Oh? You all seen my instagram story?” He chuckles. “What can I say? The letter ‘A’ just might be my favorite letter now.”

Yeah that’ll get her for sure. He would love to see her reaction to his words. He knows for a fact that he’s getting her worked up over this, and he loves it.

Meanwhile Anya was sleeping. She stayed up late the whole weekend trying to convince herself that Kook isn’t interested in her. He’s just doing fan service, but Anya catches herself practically stalking his instagram account. She can’t help but picture what he could look like. Is he tall? He’s definitely muscular by the way he talks about how much he works out. What color are his eyes? What does his smile look like? She lets out a sigh and takes a deep breath, her mind going overdrive. It was now almost 4:00am she should rest but every time she closes her eyes she pictures a faceless man hovering over her.

“Mmm you’re dreaming about me?”

She hears a familiar voice. The voice she can pick out from a crowd of people. Her subconscious mind creating the illusion of Kook in her dreams. She follows the voice in her dreams, the sound echoed through her mind.

“A…..”

“Kook….” She finds herself in the darkness with a single light in the distance. As she walks towards the light she sees a tall figure in the middle. His back was faced away from her. Was that Kook? What did he want? She stops behind him and takes a deep breath. Who could this be?Hesitantly she taps his shoulder and a familiar face turns to her.

“Jeon?” She said confused. Why is he here? Where did Kook go? Jeon opens his mouth to speak but before she could hear his voice she wakes up to a notification from her phone. “What the hell?” What kind of dream was that? She stretches and looks over at the time. Damn she really slept in late. She reached for her phone and checks the notification.

Her heart stops.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kook ends the stream satisfied with the amount of flirting he did. For some reason Kook really enjoys this. He pictures a faceless girl blushing like a child at his words. It’s like doing fan service, but since when did he have this much fun doing it? Maybe it’s because the way ‘A’ is so bold. First she praises him and then she’s calling him cocky. She’s different and Kook likes it. He always had a thing for girls who stood up for themselves. It was hot. Most women in his case would drop to their knees if he gave them a glance. It was flattering of course but it gets boring over time.

Kook stands up and walks into the living room with a satisfied smile on his face. He sees Jimin scrolling on his phone, he clears his throat trying to get his attention.

“Let me guess……she called me an asshole?” Kook says flopping next to Jimin. “No no that’s too easy. Mmm she called me a dick didn’t she?”

Jimin looks at him with a confused expression. “What are you talking about?”

Kook huffs out a laugh. Now of all times Jimin was to play dumb. Kook isn’t stupid. “What did she tell you this time?”

“Who?” Jimin says furrowing his eyebrows. Kook rolls his eyes, tiring of playing this stupid guessing game.

“A, I know she texted you while I was on stream. So what did she say this time?”

“She didn’t text me. I don’t even think she’s online.” Kook’s smile falls. What? She didn’t even see the stream? She’s always in his streams, she’s a fan. Why the hell wasn’t she there to see him flirt with her? “I gave you her username why don’t you just text her and ask yourself.”

That’s true he does have her username. Why the hell didn’t she join the live? That’s a reasonable question to ask her, isn’t it? After days of not knowing what to say to her he seems like this is a good way to start. So he grabs his phone and goes to message her.

Kook?! He texted her?! How did he even manage to get her information? Anya blinks a few times to make sure this isn’t a dream. Kook actually texted her. Okay okay she needs to relax and just reply back before he loses interest.

Wow he’s persistent. Who knew he was this straight forward. Oh right Anya knew, because she knew almost everything about him.

Kook grins at his phone. A feeling of excitement in his eyes. She sure didn’t hold back. He expected her to be fangirling over him maybe even apologizing to him, but nope she’s just the same. Kook gets up from his spot next to Jimin and goes into his room to finish the conversation with ‘A’.

Kook flops on his bed smiling once again at his phone, loving the reaction he’s getting from her.

Anya was slightly still freaking out, but she really liked the attention she’s getting from him. He went out of his way to privately text her just because she overslept and missed his live. Does he do this with his other fans? Why text her privately? Does he care? Anya shakes her head and just decides to be in this moment with him. Who knows when this will happen again.

Kook stays up all night texting back and forth with ‘A’ it’s almost 2:00am and he never stays up this late, especially when he has classes tomorrow morning. But Kook didn’t want to stop. He wanted to make sure he had her undivided attention since she missed his live. Maybe he likes the attention or maybe it’s something else, he doesn’t know what yet. Eventually exhaustion catches up to him and he falls asleep and lucky for him so does ‘A’. He falls asleep feeling satisfied and a sense of peace. It was a new and weird feeling that Kook wasn’t used to and he doesn’t want it to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours turned into a few days of straight texting back and forth with Kook. Anya didn’t expect this to last this long. She definitely didn’t expect this to feel so easy. Talking to him feels so comfortable and relaxed despite his cockiness. Even that didn’t annoy her like she thought it might. She’s been so attached to texting Kook she completely forgets about Jeon……until he bumps into her on the way to class. Her head was down looking at her phone replying back to a stupid gif Kook sent her, before she could send her message she feels her shoulder bump into someone else’s. She looks up to be face to face with Jeon. She’s never been this close to him before and she immediately panics.

“I-I’m so sorry I….I wasn’t paying attention…” she says looking at anything but those pretty doe eyes. Gosh they look even better up close. He looks at her with a nonchalant expression. Is he mad? Angry? Annoyed? In love? Just kidding he’s not in love. Anya couldn’t read his expression so she feels like she should leave. “I’m really sorry.” She says taking a step back, but she bumps into someone else. The small gap that separated her and Jeon was immediately closed up. As she was just about to fall he catches her by her waist. Her hands landing on his shoulders. Then she does the thing she shouldn’t have. She looks up. Her eyes meeting his in a heated gaze.

“Are-…..” he whispers but stops himself. She’s never heard him speak and she couldn’t hear him whispering with the loud background. The two of them stay like this until Anya pulls away feeling way too delusional right now.

“I-I’m sorry again I…I um….” She takes a deep breath stilling her nerves. Come on Anya don’t embarrass yourself in front of the hottest guy…..ever. She reaches a hand out. “Uh hi my name is-

“Hey.” A beautiful girl says as she walks up towards Jeon, putting her hand with his. Anya recognizes her…..It’s Yuna……probably the most beautiful girl in the entire school. Of course they’re dating. It makes sense after all. Hot guy, hot girl they’re a power couple. Anya pulls her hand away, feeling stupid for attempting to introduce herself. What did she think would happen? “oh hey I’m Anya I’ve seen you before in class and you’re really hot, wanna get married?” It was stupid and Anya feels embarrassed. She tries to hide her disappointment not wanting to look like a pathetic loser in front of them. “Sorry again…..um bye.” She walks away in the different directions not evening knowing where she’s supposed to go.

Kook watches her leaving feeling a pang of sympathy towards the girl. Something about her seems familiar……Lost in thought he feels Yuna grabbing his wrist and pulling him in the nearest empty classroom. She closes the door and locks it behind her. “We have about 30 minutes to ourselves.” She steps closer pushing him against the desk. “I’m in the mood……you look really hot today.”

Kook groans in frustration. “Well I’m not.” To be honest ever since he’s been messaging ’A’ he hasn’t been frustrated enough to fuck Yuna, or horny. Him and Yuna haven’t fucked in a week and he didn’t even care to notice.

Yuna scoffs not believing him for a second. “Yeah right….” She starts to undo his jacket and he grabs her wrist holding it firm.

“I’m not in the fucking mood.” He drops her wrist moving towards the door, but before he can exit she stops him. A look of determination on her face.

“What’s your deal?”

His deal? His deal is that he didn’t want to fuck her. Especially not in the empty classroom and most importantly not while he had someone else on his mind.

“I just said I’m not in the fucking mood. I have work today anyways so move.” Kook lied he’s off work today but he needed to get out of here. He waited for her to get out of his way and after what feels like eternity she finally moves with a frustrated sigh.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“Don’t care figure it out.” With that Kook walks out leaving Yuna alone in the classroom. Once he’s in the hallways he scans the crowd hoping to find that girl from earlier. He didn’t get to formally apologize and he really did feel bad. She looked familiar. He must’ve seen her in one of his classes but he doesn’t know which one. He makes a mental note to apologize to her next time he sees her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the embarrassing encounter Anya had with Jeon she goes home. She thinks back at the way he looked up close. He’s eyes, his lip piercing, his eyebrow piercing, even his detailed tattoos. Sighing she walks into the kitchen to heat up a frozen dinner. As she rips off the plastic her phone dings. She looks at the notification and sees it’s from Kook. A small smile appears on her face as she opens the message.

He stops replying as Anya puts her food in the microwave. She waits for the three bubbles to pop up but they don’t. Before she could text him again her phone rings. It’s him. He’s calling her…

Her heart pounds, her palms are sweating, what does she do? Does she ignore him? What if he gets uninterested. She doesn’t want to lose his attention but-

“Hello?” He says on the other line. When did she even answer the phone? “You there?”

She clears her throat stilling her voice. “Hey yeah I’m here. I uh didn’t expect you to call.”

He was quiet for a moment. A long moment. Did he hang up? Did she sound like a man? Was he busy? Oh god this is so embarrassing. What does she even do in this situation?

Kook recognizes that voice. Didn’t he hear it today?………That girl! The one who bumped into him right? It had to be her. No it was her. They had the same quiver in their voice. Yes it’s her……and Kook didn’t expect for her to sound like…….home? He already gotten used to texting her and teasing her but he didn’t have a face or a voice to go off of this whole time. Now he does. He seen her in person. They go to the same school. She close to him, and she doesn’t even know it.

“Um Kook?”

He snaps out of his thoughts. He needs to keep his composure.

“You sound exactly how I thought you would.”

Anya blushes. God he’s doing something to her and she can’t get enough. “What does that supposed to mean exactly?”

Kook smiles at her sassy response. “Exactly what it means, it’s cute alright?” It was more than cute, but he didn’t want her to know that. Kook smiles back to their reaction from earlier today. The way she looked when she bumped into him. If he knew she was ‘A’ he would’ve paid more attention to her physical appearance. But all he could focus on at that time was her eyes…..those glossy beautiful eyes. He could’ve sworn he saw a whole galaxy in them. Was that cringey? He’s never cared this much about someone, let alone her eyes……He clears his throat pushing away those weird thoughts. As he was about to speak he hears beeping on the other line……is that a microwave?

“What are you eating?” Kook ask trying to change the topic.

“Oh I have a frozen meal in the microwave. Let me grab it real quick.”

He scoffs on the other line. Frozen meal? That’s all she’s eating? “You do know how unhealthy those are right? You’re killing yourself with those.”

“I can’t cook so these are always a good option.”

“You can’t live off those forever. You need home cooked meals.” Kook stated. Is she seriously eating nothing but instant noodles? Does she not have anyone in here life to cook for her? He wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about her and more, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate because he isn’t………yep definitely not desperate.

“Well if I cook I’ll burn my house down and I can’t have that-“

“I’ll cook for you.” Kook said out loud. Shit! He meant to say that in his head but his mouth moved faster. There’s no turning back now he might as well go with it.

“You can cook?” Anya asks.

“Obviously I can pretty much do everything and you eating packaged food is screaming “Kook please save me I’m completely helpless”. He grins. It was true. She obviously doesn’t have anyone to make sure she’s eating well, kook might as well do it.

“Wow you’re really ignorant you know that?”

“Hey don’t call me when you’re in the hospital for food poisoning or something because of all the processed food you eat.”

“Okay I won’t.”

Kook scoffs. She’s a stubborn one, but he doesn’t want to give up. He wants to crack those walls she has built up.

“What kind of fan doesn’t listen to their idol.”

Anya laughs on the other end. “My idol? You want me to bow down at your feet and submit to you or something?”

“Mmm submit to me huh….” Her saying that made a heat rush through him. He can imagine it. Her fully submitted to him and just him. Is it weird for him to be feeling this way for a girl he just met. Something about this situation makes him feel……..god something so different. He wants to know what it is and if she feels it too.

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Twenty-Seven: Touch Starved @rowaelinscourt

Link to Month Masterlist

Guess who is back on her regularly scheduled angsty angst? It’s me. 

Warnings: mentions of a arent death. Hurt/comfort in the form of grief.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

All Your Ways, All Your Thunder

The changing seasons always had a way of leaving a brand of melancholy on Rowan’s soul.  He never knew exactly what it was or why it came, but when the days began to grow shorter and cooler…Rowan’s own mood would shift completely and he found himself drowning in the past.

No matter what he did or how he prepared--he never was ready for it to happen.

He didn’t know who he could talk to or how he could explain it.  He’d never been allowed to express these thoughts, his feelings when he was growing up.  His da had never been the emotional type and his mother always thought he was the perfect child who never struggled.  And as he’d grown up, trying to express himself and actually talk had never come easily.  

And today with that distinct chill crawling through the air and the fact that it was the two-year anniversary of his da passing—Rowan figured it was as good a day as any to wallow.  That’s what people did, wasn’t it?  They’d let themselves collapse beneath the weight of it all and dwell on how miserable things had become.  And then the feelings would pass and it would be alright.

So, Rowan returned to his apartment after a particularly long day at work and dropped onto his couch as he waited for the past to wash over him.

Only…it never came.

He could feel it burrowed beneath his chest, right next to his heart.  And slowly it leeched into his lungs.  But all it did was linger right on the cusp of his brain.

And all there was, was silence.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, sprawled out on the couch with one arm thrown over his head.  But it was long enough for the shadows of the living room to shift and the room to darken.  He knew he should get up and eat dinner.  Maybe he’d order take out so he wouldn’t have to think about anything or actually get up.

What he did know was that he had to do something to fix this mood.  It wouldn’t do well to wallow in his own misery.

Sighing, Rowan fumbled for his phone that had dropped on the floor.  He found there was already a missed message from Aelin that had him loosing a breath of relief.

>>Aelin: i hate fenrys

>>Aelin: he stole the chocolate i was saving for after my meeting with maeve this afternoon

>>Aelin: and ate it in front of me

>>Aelin: may end up murdering him

Rowan smiled at the messages, already feeling better at just seeing her name.  It was simple, and maybe a little stupid, but he could feel the wariness of the day sifting away.

Another message came in.

>>Aelin: what r you doing tonight?

He could lie and tell her he was busy.  Caught up in case notes or meetings.  Or say he was at the gym. Or--

<<Rowan: nothing 

<<Rowan: come over?

>>Aelin: be there in twenty.

…

In the five years of knowing Aelin Galathynius, four of those had been spent in animosity.  Between her arrogance, his pride, and the underlying mutual hatred that bloomed from nothing more than meeting at the wrong time—Rowan and Aelin could never manage to stand in the same room together, let alone have a civil conversation

Until one night with too much alcohol and just enough loosened inhibitions.  It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than that.  They’d said it wouldn’t happen again, that they’d both been lonely, the tequila was to blame.

And then it did.  

After six months of sneaking around, they’d almost gotten caught a few times.  And considering how stubborn they both were, they didn’t want to admit to their friends that they were dating.  If that was what you’d call this.  Rowan wasn’t seeing anyone else and he knew she wasn’t either.  They spent most weekends together and texted entirely too much.  But they’d never labeled what they were.  And it had never really bothered Rowan, hell his track record with relationships was a joke that labels were hardly worth it.

Eventually, Rowan forced himself off of the couch and managed to change into sweats and a t-shirt.  No use for Aelin seeing him in such a state.  He didn’t expect anything out of the night and knew that she didn’t either.  They’d eat and then end up watching Netflix or busting out the PlayStation.  Aelin was extremely competitive when it came to Mario Kart.

When Aelin arrived twenty-five minutes later, she let herself in using a key he had given her.  It had been a random thing he hadn’t thought about—she’d needed a place to stay while her apartment was getting renovations done and his place was closer to her work—and he’d just never asked for the key back.

“I brought pizza!” Aelin announced.  The heels she wore clicked soundly on the hardwood. “I know it’s not part of your meal plan, but it sounded good.”

Rowan, who found himself back on the couch, laughed humorlessly. “You got extra cheese, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Aelin said. “And then I got that chicken and artichoke thing you like on thin crust.  Honestly, it’s not pizza at that point, buzzard.”

He watched as she set the pizza boxes on his kitchen table, kicking off her shoes so they were right in the middle of the floor.  Her tight, red pencil skirt hugged her curves perfectly, the black blouse hanging neatly and only emphasizing her golden skin.  Even on a random weekday, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Maeve sent out assignments for that new project,” Aelin said as she grabbed plates and a roll of paper towels from the cupboard. “Stuck me with Kaltain and Graves.  So you know I’m going to get stuck with all the work.”

Rowan listened as she talked and bounced around the kitchen.  She was so at home being there, as if it were second nature to make sure the fridge shut properly or the one drawer didn’t catch when you opened it a certain way.

She portioned out a few slices for each of them and brought soda and the paper towel over to the couch with her.

“Thanks,” Rowan said, accepting his plate from her.

Aelin settled beside him, tucking her feet up on the coffee table.  Already she was taking a massive bite of her pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese.  

“Howwasurda?” she asked around her mouthful of pizza.

Rowan rolled his eyes and threw a paper towel at her. “Fine.  Nothing terrible.”

In truth, most of the day was a blur.  He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts, his own worries, that he really hadn’t noticed if it had been good or bad.  Though, he’d left his office door closed and ignored his phone for most of it so that had to help.

Aelin pursed her lips but didn’t press the issue.

He knew he shouldn’t have invited her over if he wasn’t even going to try and talk to her, knew that just sitting in silence wasn’t her idea of a good time, but even just having her near was enough to make him feel better.

He knew he could have gone to the bar and Lorcan, Fenrys, and the others would have joined him without hesitation.  He would have gotten tipsy enough to forget what day it was and that would have been more than fine with him.  Today was not a day he wanted to endure sober, but he’d done it.  Forced to relive memory after memory of his dad and wonder what he could have done differently as a son.  It wasn’t a good spiral to go down and would have been much more enjoyable if accompanied by Fenrys doing something stupid to distract him or Lorcan who would just keep sliding him beer the moment he knew something was wrong.

“Hey,” Aelin whispered after a long stretched of silence.  She reached a hand across the couch to brush through his hair, clearing the messy strands from his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Unconsciously, Rowan leaned into touch.  It had only been two days since they’d last been together but her touch was so gentle and easy that he fell into it easily.

“Nothing,” he said, even though the lie was far to easy to spot.

“You had a bad day?” Her fingers trailed down his cheek to his jaw and it would have been so easy to melt against her.

He didn’t know how to tell her everything that was on his mind.  Didn’t want to say it was the anniversary of his dad passing or that he just wanted to touch her, to linger in this moment a little while longer.  It all just felt too heavy on his tongue, so Rowan shrugged in response.

Aelin didn’t seem to like that.  She gathered the empty plates and wadded up paper towels and tossed them onto the coffee table.  And then before Rowan could ask what she was doing, Aelin grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her.

“C’mere,” she said.  She made no room for arguments as she kept him close, curling against him even until her skirt and blouse were askew.

Aelin said nothing else as she wrapped her arms around him, one hand burrowing in his hair and the other running patterns against the skin of his neck.  She even hooked one knee around his hip until they were utterly flush against each other, curled on the couch in the dying light of dusk.

Rowan was certain he was smothering Aelin but she wouldn’t let him move.  All she did was continue to hold him, one hand ticking softly at the nape of his neck.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held like this, the last time he’d felt this level of comfort.

“It’s alright,” Aelin murmured. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

She didn’t know it, but those were the exact words his mother had told him the day of the funeral, the day they’d gone to pick up his father’s ashes, the day they’d sat in the car staring out at the dense forest trying to decide how you mourned the end of a life and how you moved on from it.

Rowan couldn’t help the shuddering breath the rippled through him as he wrapped his own arms around Aelin, crushing her to him.  She didn’t mind though.  Not as he pressed his face to the crook of her neck and pulled her blouse out of her skirt so he could reach her bare skin.  She didn’t mind as he held on as though she were his lifeline.

He didn’t know if they would talk about it later, didn’t know what he would say if they did.  But for that moment, Rowan let himself remain wrapped in her, this woman who had come to mean more to him than he could even begin to describe.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

tags are dumb as per usual