#((and how that springs up in certain situations regardless of how sure we are of ourselves))

[blank-house]

Hello Hello! Sorry if this sounds presumptuous (or if it's been asked before) but I've been curious about this since the first demo came out. I know the MC comes with preset personality traits cause of the seasonal personalities but will it still be possible to control certain aspects of the MC's personality in game? Not in ways that fully contradict the seasonal personalities obviously but I mean things like, is the MC more outgoing or are they a huge wallflower? How are they with other people? What's their attitude towards certain things? Likes and Dislikes etc etc, stuff like that. I don't expect the MC to be a complete 100% blank slate to customize like that since I'm pretty sure it's impossible to predict what every single player is gonna want to do with their MC, but regardless I've been curious about this. TLDR; Will the MC's more specific characteristics be something the player can play around with alongside the seasonal personality or are the MC's entire character traits just set in stone from the seasonal personality alone? Again sorry if this sounds presumptuous that's not my intent, have a good day/night and happy developing!

Oh of course! We assume some things about a season but we don’t assume everything.

For example, we don’t know how the Seasonal MCs are socially. Like Springs are natural charmers and are generally likable, but just because they’re well liked doesn’t mean they HAVE to like hanging around other people. That’s up to you.

When it comes to personalized things such as likes or dislikes, we have some occasions where you can set that— but we try not to make it a consistent thing in the game. Partly because it inflates what we have to keep track of in the long run and because it sometimes ends up being a one-time use. There are some exceptions though— like your music taste, because I think that’s something people can bond over (and thus score some points with). So you can kind of expect having autonomy over those.

You also just get to set small comfort things— like if you like to share meals and with who, how riding in cam’s car works between your best friends, if you know how to do this thing or not— but that’s because there’s a narrative purpose intertwined with it.

But essentially, there’s a middle ground we’re trying to achieve between player inputs and what we’ve already assigned to you. On one hand, we want the MC to be relatable and thus moldable by players— but on the other hand we don’t want to shoot ourselves in the foot trying to account for every possible way a player might want to respond/behave to a situation.

Hence the Seasonal MC’s. A workload of potentially tens of choices can now be condensed into four.

(And actually anon you might be pleased to find we do/will continue to give you options that DOES contradict your assigned personality! Haha the thing I want to do with Keyframes is tell a story of growth and changes. That, of course, includes the main cast but also YOU as the main character. By assigning you a season, we can track a point where you stop being a Compassionate Fall or a Confident Summer etc etc because of these “contradicting” choices.

It’s like how— sometimes you change for the better and sometimes the world was just harsh enough that you change into someone else entirely. But that’s okay because that’s just life, y’know? And it’s my hope we’ll be able to emulate that kind of change in the game for our players)

[todd-baldree]

Common Hazards in the Workplace and How to Prevent Them

Common Hazards in the Workplace and How to Prevent Them https://www.blogtrepreneur.com/common-hazards-in-the-workplace-and-how-to-prevent-them/ Injuries in the workplace can occur anywhere and at any time. If the correct safety and precautionary measures are not put in place, there is a real threat of not only staff sustaining injuries but being faced with a hefty lawsuit. As a business owner, you have a duty of care for your employee’s health and wellbeing. Here we will examine some of the top hazards in the workplace, and what steps you can follow to prevent them from happening in the first place. Noise Hazards When the term ‘hazard’ springs to mind, we normally think of physical examples like a slip, fall, or fire. However, while these are very real hazards, there is a significant danger of noise, especially for those who operate in factories or other industrial environments. If the noise is loud enough to damage hearing, it’s crucial employees have the right hearing protection, like noise-blocking earmuffs or earplugs to wear. Whatever machinery or equipment is used, it’s essential that everyone can hear instructions, warnings, and alarms in the event of an emergency. Slips, Trips and Falls An incredibly common workplace hazard that can occur anywhere is the risk of slipping, tripping, or falling over. One of the main culprits is a damp or wet floor. If there are no signs in place to signify the floor is wet, there’s a high chance of someone falling and injuring themselves. This can lead to broken bones, brain damage, and potentially a fatal situation. These mishaps can easily be avoided by implementing preventative measures. Make sure you have a health and safety policy in place and enroll employees on specialist courses, so they’re aware of the dangers. Hazardous Substances Hazardous substances may consist of cleaning products like chemicals. For those who operate in the medical field, these substances could include bodily fluids like saliva or blood. For those who work in confined spaces, there are major risks linked with chemicals. If you work with hazardous substances, you must conduct a COSHH risk assessment to identify them. HS Direct have a COSHH risk assessment template you can use to do this. They provide health and safety advice to businesses across all sectors, which you can make use of and put into action within the workplace. Fire Risks Regardless of what kind of company you run, there’s always a substantial risk of fire. Therefore, it’s imperative your team are up to date with your business’s fire safety regulations. Health and safety courses inform your employees on what practices to follow in the event of a fire, as well as where the emergency assembly point is housed. Your business must have a fire extinguisher on site, as well as fire blankets and axes. Make sure to perform regular fire drills and test that your fire alarm and sprinkler systems are working correctly. When employees are at work, you need to make sure they’re in a safe and protected environment. For this to happen, having a thorough understanding of the hazards above is essential. That way, you can identify certain risks and put protocols in place to keep your staff out of harm’s way. The post Common Hazards in the Workplace and How to Prevent Them appeared first on Blogtrepreneur. via Blogtrepreneur https://www.blogtrepreneur.com/ October 24, 2022 at 06:17AM

[sacramentonewsjournal]

Guidelines of Golf defined: Do Ive to mark my ball when taking most well-liked lies aid?

Should you mark the spot first earlier than you decide up your ball? Our Guidelines of Golf knowledgeable has a solution which may shock you Winter guidelines are again! You realize the climate is beginning to flip when governing our bodies and counties put out their annual assertion permitting most well-liked lies on carefully mown areas till the spring. You don’t must me to offer you chapter and verse on the popular lies rule, also called Mannequin Native Rule E-3. Anybody who has been taking part in golf for any size of time is aware of what it’s for and the best way to do it. However, right here’s a conundrum for you – and one that will perk up your committees in the event that they’re those setting the phrases for most well-liked lies. Do you have to mark your ball first, be it with a tee peg or a ball-marker, earlier than you’re taking aid for most well-liked lies? Guidelines of Golf defined: Taking most well-liked lies aid No, not for the reason that new guidelines arrived in 2019. I’ll simply let that settle there for a second so you may all end gasping. Folks get this Native Rule a bit blended up with Rule 14.1 and conclude it’s a penalty shot in case you don’t mark your ball. However that’s not the case on this state of affairs and right here’s why. Rule 14.1a does certainly say that the spot of a ball to be lifted and changed should be marked. Nevertheless, that applies if you’re lifting a ball beneath a Rule “requiring the ball to get replaced on its unique spot”. That’s not what occurs if you take most well-liked lies aid beneath Mannequin Native Rule E-3. Whereas the reference level for taking aid is actually the spot of the unique ball, you might be inserting it in a aid space – for golf equipment in England that’s inside six inches from that reference level. So, you don’t have to switch the ball on its unique spot. If we go leap again to Rule 14.1a, it additionally doubles down on this stating that: “When a ball is lifted to take aid beneath a Rule, the participant shouldn’t be required to mark the spot earlier than lifting the ball.” However simply since you don’t HAVE to mark the ball, does that imply you shouldn’t? It’s actually good observe to take action. It additionally avoids dispute for a begin, say if a taking part in associate believes you’re pinching an additional inch or two. If you happen to haven’t marked the spot first, how will you make certain you’ve taken aid within the appropriate six-inch aid space? In case your ball isn’t in that space and then you definitely make a stroke, you’ve performed the ball from a incorrect place. Yet one more actually essential level. Be sure to don’t confuse this with one other very related Native Rule permitting you to carry, clear, and exchange your ball within the normal space. Mannequin Native Rule E-2 is designed for things like moist floor situations the place mud would possibly stick with ball. However on this case, the ball must be changed on its unique spot so the Native Rule explicitly says you’ve bought to mark the spot earlier than lifting the ball. As at all times, try the Native Guidelines and ensure precisely what you’re doing if you exit on the course. Have a query for our Guidelines of Golf knowledgeable? Regardless of the simplification of the Guidelines of Golf firstly of 2019, there are nonetheless some that depart us scratching our heads. And as I’ve handed the R&A’s Stage 3 guidelines examination with distinction, I’ll attempt to assist by that includes the very best on this column. 2023 NCG High 100s Tour Spring occasions now on sale! VIEW EVENTS Subscribe to NCG (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src="https://connect.facebook.net/en_GB/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v3.2"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Originally published at Sacramento News Journal

[dodgefred]

do you have any ideas as to how you would direct abh/certain scenes if you had the chance

short answer: yes

long answer:

i think overall i would do similar things from mcc because the directing in mcc was exquisite and jessie nelson did a wonderful job, but i would also incorporate some other elements into the show like having an ensemble onstage at all times, having the ensemble integrated into the set like the spring awakening revival does, and i would want everything to feel much more intimate. mcc already does a great job with the intimacy but i really would want to expand on that feeling and make the audience feel as if they’re a member of the bunker listening to this story too.

another thing i would keep is the parallels between bunker visuals and wonderland concepts, like the gas mask flamingos. i would like to expand on this, though, and make the parallels used in the costumes much more noticeable.

the plot structure of alice by heart, in my mind, is alice spencer telling the story of alfred’s death (whether she realizes it or not). i’d have alice begin and end the show reading her book. the music of west of words would begin as soon as alice opens to page one, and the sirens wouldn’t get introduced until after her first verse. this lets us get introduced to alice as a character before we’re introduced to her situation. this also should be the only time alice is alone onstage, and the stage would be bare.

after the siren, the rest of the ensemble would run onstage with furniture and build the bunker in a flurry of bodies and chaos surrounding alice. alfred would run in front of alice before running to his cot, and the rest of this scene would proceed with alice still standing in the middle of all of the chaos around her. her book is still open in her hands. she is our narrator.

my next major point of change would be with down the hole. the bunker kids changing into their wonderland forms would be more clear, and would feature more dramatic onstage quick changes during each of their respective verses or lines. instead of alice twirling into her blue dress, she manipulates the rest of the cast into changing themselves. i don’t think alice would change into her blue dress until alfred sings his “down and down we fall” verse. alfred would playfully remind her to change herself, too. they’re best friends and have played this game countless times and we need to show it onstage. also i think alfred deserves to wear rabbit ears. that’s all.

an alternative decision would be alice starting the show in her blue dress in order to represent how she’s constantly with “[her] head in wonderland.”

i think mcc didn’t do enough with still. a bit of a spoiler for later is that i really want to keep the lobster dance, or at least something similar to it. however, i’d introduce it in still rather than in those long eyes. i’d introduce it as an overarching theme of their relationship. just like wonderland, the lobster dance is something they do quite often; often enough for alfred to know how to do it even when he isn’t fully paying attention. in still, alfred would still try to be evading the discussion and escape alice’s grasp, but she’d try and do their dance together. they don’t finish the dance before the end of the song.

the only major change i would make to chillin the regrets is i’d have the caterpillars lay down more for the scene before. they can get up and do fun choreo with alice afterwards (during the song) but i think she should work more for the attention they give her (during the scene), like alice has to in the original story. they should definitely be more apathetic towards her at first. i’d also like to introduce some sort of dance motif in chillin that alice echoes to alfred in the key is when she tries to get him to smoke. in chillin, i also think it would be cool if there was a smoke machine onstage making the stage as foggy as alice’s head is. if she as our narrator doesn’t know what’s going on, how are we supposed to? i think the smoke can fade for the key is, because we actually need to see that one for the plot, but i think even so there could be some sort of playing with shadows and silhouettes that would be really cool.

i think the bird scene would be really fun with puppetry! the puppets could be made out of items that would only be found in the bunker, like the same fabric the cots are made of, buttons that match the ones on the characters’ clothes, and the gas mask beaks. the birds would just be so much fun as puppets. skipping ahead a bit here, but i also think the duchess in manage your flamingo should have a pig puppet to reference the original a bit more closely.

as mentioned earlier, those long eyes would have a dance motif that would continue throughout the show, and i think while the dance in those long eyes lasted longer than it did in still, it still should be cut off by the sirens and shouldn’t be complete. alice still doesn’t have closure for their relationship by this point, so the dance shouldn’t either.

for most of the show, the cheshire puss should be hooded and perched on an upper platform whenever shes giving alice advice. when alice wont listen to her, she finally snaps and sings some things fall away. she gets on alice’s level and finally reveals her face.

i don’t have many more specific ideas until the end because most of the songs in the middle chunk of the show are just alice running around wonderland and i’m not a choreographer so i’m not really sure what i’d do exactly with these. but i do want to bring up the jabberwocky. i’m obsessed with what mcc does by making alice’s fear of the doctor and the soldiers physical, but i think we could take brillig braellig as an opportunity to bring back the puppets. i think it could be an entirely dark stage except for alice and the jabberwocky. the jabberwocky can be made entirely of white fabric and have images of war and alice’s other fears and traumas projected onto him. the stage can be lit from below so we get some interesting shadows. if we want to incorporate something like mcc did with butridge literally being the jabberwocky, he can be dressed in all white as well and have the puppet follow him around the stage to have more physical interaction with alice. in this scene, i imagine the puppet being pretty big so the ensemble’s place onstage would be helping in puppeteering so the stage would feel emptier than it actually is.

i’m obsessed with the falling rose petals and the coughing before another room in your head in mcc but i think that part could really benefit from some modifications. instead of them being in an empty stage, i think there could be a carpet of white roses beneath them and soap blood could literally come from alfred all over them and all over him. the roses aren’t the only roses in that scene.

in i’ve shrunk enough, i think it would be cool for the characters to go up in a puff of smoke and exit out of a trap door in the stage when alice poofs them out of existence. alice should be the only one poofing everyone away, as she is our narrator. i also think there could be a moment where alfred quickly runs backstage and changes back into his original hospital gown for the final scenes. (in terms of logistics i think the hospital gown could stay beneath his white rabbit costume so he’s able to more quickly change). when he returns onstage, it should be the end of the song. in the vassar reading, at the end of i’ve shrunk enough, alfred says “time’s up” after the final notes of the song. i would want to bring that back. alfred says it as he returns onstage, and the lighting suddenly shifts to two spotlights — one on alice and one on alfred — that merge as the two get closer throughout the next scene.

in afternoon, we bring back the lobster dance. this should be the only time the dance comes to a close. alice isn’t ready for alfred to die, but she’s a hell of a lot more ready than she was during still. she can continue doing the dance by herself after alfred leaves.

after alfred leaves the stage, alice also picks up the book. throughout the show it was probably left downstage in one of the corners of the stage, so here alice picks it back up and finishes it on alfred’s cot. the spotlight follows and doesn’t disperse to reveal the rest of the ensemble until the final notes of the song when alice finally closes the book.

throughout winter blooms, the characters should dismantle the bunker like they brought it on in the beginning. they each change into their wonderland costumes once again (or at least bits and pieces of them, since winter blooms is a pretty quick song, but i doubt their wonderland costumes are too drastically different from their bunker costumes regardless) throughout the rest of the song. at the very end, i’d have alice come centerstage once more, standing in the same place she was during alfred’s death. she’d sing to an empty stage, for the most part, until her final “and there you are.” alfred comes onstage (whether he comes onstage himself or he’s brought up through the stage on a lift or a turntable, i don’t know) in his white rabbit costume once again, and alice pulls him into an embrace as the stage fades to black once more.

[spencers-renaissance]

tell me how to balance my coins

Summary: When Spencer falls down the stairs one morning he decides not to tell anyone, his insecurities about not being enough winning out. Too bad insecurities don't matter when they end up trekking through miles of barren land on a search and rescue mission, and his injuries finally become too much. The team knows exactly how to make it better.

Tags: hurt!spencer, whump, hurt/comfort, hiding medical issues, insecurity, angst with a happy ending, fluff, team as family TW: self-esteem issues

Pairing: GEN / Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Set in S1 but there's no Gideon because he didn't really fit the plot, so it's just the five other field agents here. This entire fic was inspired by this post by @i-write-whump so credit goes to them for the premise! Title from this poem by Zahraa Surtee <3

Maybe it’s embarrassment that stops him from telling the team. Spencer runs headfirst into dangerous situations every day, puts his life on the line repeatedly and escapes unscathed more often than not, but his nemesis this time is the single flight of stairs in his apartment building he descends each morning.

He’s later than he usually is, and already feeling a little flustered from both his toaster and coffee machine breaking, leaving him with a cup of instant coffee and an overripe banana from breakfast, which only makes the situation worse. As if lying sprawled out in a public stairwell wasn’t bad enough. He gingerly pulls himself up, catching a glimpse of a “Caution: Wet Floor” sign he somehow missed, and winces as pain floods his body.

His ankle is screaming at him, throbbing and burning, and for a moment Spencer has to close his eyes against the gut-wrenching pain of a twisted ankle flaring up his calf. A couple of thankfully undisturbed minutes later, the pain eases enough for him to open his eyes and inspect the damage. It’s already swelling slightly, and he’s certain he’ll be covered in bruises by tonight if the aching of his entire body is anything to go by.

For a brief moment he considers calling Derek or Penelope or someone else on his team; maybe even calling in sick, but he quickly pushes that thought away. It’s not embarrassment that stops him from telling the team. It’s a good cover story to keep him from addressing the real reason, but it isn’t the truth.

The truth is that the only time he ever feels valuable is when he’s contributing to a case. That cruel voice in the back of his head will waste no time in piping up, telling him how worthless he is, what a burden his friends see him as, how insignificant he is to the team if he doesn’t suck it up and head into work.

Fighting back the tears burning hot behind his eyes with ardent determination, he drags himself up by the stair handrail until he’s upright. His ribs ache and his ankle burns something fierce, but he compartmentalises it, breathing deeply and taking a few tentative steps, one at a time until he’s limping towards the train station.

The moment he walks into the bullpen, JJ grabs his elbow. “You’re just in time, Spence,” she says, marching towards the briefing room with a pace Spencer can’t quite keep up with. “We have a new case. Rural Kentucky.”

Everyone’s already seated at the round table, and no matter how much he tries to disguise his limp, putting far too much weight on his battered ankle, he can’t get it past a room full of profilers.

“Hey, pretty boy, you alright? You’re limping.” Derek’s tone is light, carrying the cadence of joking banter, but he can see the concern in his eyes, and that’s just unacceptable. He can’t have people worrying about him: he’s not worth their pitied looks or vapid attempts at comfort, especially not when they have a far more important case to be focusing on.

He slips into a seat, and manages to conceal a wince at the movement of his ankle swinging forward. “Oh, uh, I just stubbed my toe pretty hard on the way in.” It’s not convincing even to his own ears, but luckily it’s enough of a time-sensitive case for JJ to barrel on regardless, drawing everyone’s worried glances away from him and towards the board full of grizzly crime scene photos.

Even though he’s been on the team for close to three years now, he still feels like the new kid. Elle is newer than him, but she’s still far more confident in her place on the team than he is. He suspects that’s probably because someone like Elle doesn’t have trouble fitting in anywhere. It’s never been quite that easy for Spencer.

Pushing his insecurities aside like he always has to do in these meetings, he reads the case file thoroughly before offering his own contributions. The unsub is snatching young women from bars and clubs and holding them for weeks before leaving them to succumb to the elements in the rural countryside of Kentucky. With a missing woman and the expected deadline for the unsub dumping her fast approaching, they don’t waste any time in boarding the jet and flying the short way to West Kentucky.

It’s a short enough flight that there’s no time for personal conversation — no time for Derek (or anyone else for that matter) to confront him about his blatant lie and obvious injury — since they spend the whole journey discussing the case. Thankfully, throwing himself head first into theories and hypotheses keeps his mind off the pain a bit, but he can’t fully keep it from bothering him.

He’s just thankful that he has enough experience in disguising his true emotions that no-one’s attention is drawn to him by poorly hidden winces.

They dive straight into the investigation when they arrive at the sheriff’s station, everyone laser focused on finding Marissa Williams. By mid-afternoon, though, Spencer’s gritting his teeth as he forces himself to persevere through the pain despite it increasing incrementally every hour, and he curses himself for not being able to dedicate 100% of himself to the case. If he can’t help everyone find this woman, then what is he good for? His stomach twists at the thought.

“You gonna tell me what’s really going on, Spence?” Derek asks him as it approaches 4pm, cornering him at the coffee machine.

Spencer looks around as subtly as he can for an escape, but he quickly succumbs to his fate. “I’m fine, Derek,” he promises. It’s so far from the truth he wants to cry.

The concern in Derek’s eyes only intensifies at that. “Seriously? You’ve been quiet this whole case, I catch you wincing when you think no-one’s looking, and you’re still limping. A stubbed toe wouldn’t do that, kid, and you know it.”

He sighs, knowing the jig is up. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Derek.” He’s not sure it’s the truth, but it’s close enough to it that it doesn’t bring burning tears to the backs of his eyes.

Derek’s about to say something when JJ calls out for him. They both turn to look at her, Spencer feeling relief flood his chest, while Derek’s expression quickly morphs into one of frustration, sighing heavily as he curls his hands into tight fists.

“This isn’t over,” he says, levelling him with a serious look before walking back over to JJ, leaving Spencer to stir his bitter coffee in peace. It definitely doesn’t make him want to cry.

They finally get a break in the case at nightfall, a call on the tip line combined with their profile leading them to a secluded wooded area down by a small river. Knowing there’s nothing more for them to do at the office, Hotch gathers them all up, insisting they join the search party to find the poor, beaten woman currently suffering exposure, awaiting their rescue.

Spencer’s heart sinks as everyone gathers their equipment, and he’s almost relieved when Derek speaks up.

“Reid can’t go,” he insists to Hotch, only barely in earshot of Spencer. If he doesn’t go out in the rescue party, then he’s still served his purpose hasn’t he? He helped with the profile that narrowed down the area she’s likely to be in, he worked the case until this point, he can rest and still be worth something. Right?

Besides, it’s not exactly like he can don the heavy walking boots everyone else is pulling on. If he goes out, he’ll have to wear the same loafers that have been squeezing his swelling joint all day, and that’s hardly going to work. Hotch will let him stay back, and for once, he’ll accept the rest he’s offered.

His hope is quickly dashed. “We need all the manpower we can get,” Hotch says, clearly distracted in the same way he has been throughout the entire case. Spencer likes his boss but he has a tendency to wear blinkers when on a job, not noticing anything that doesn’t pertain to the ultimate solution. “He’ll be fine.”

Derek sighs again, clearly frustrated.

“I’ll be fine,” he says as Derek comes over to sit with him, not sure who he’s trying to convince. His ankle is still burning in pain. The last time he checked it, it was bruised and swollen, tender to the touch. It’s nothing short of a nasty sprain.

“You stick close to me, Spencer. I mean it.”

He can’t help the small smile that crosses his face, genuine happiness warming his heart at the concerned protectiveness of his friend. “Sure, Derek,” he says softly.

The pleasant temperature of the mid-Spring day drops to almost freezing as the sun sets, the moon and stars taking over the clear night sky. Even Spencer’s thickest coat isn’t enough to keep him from practically vibrating with the force of his shivers as they trek across the miles of terrain, staying as quiet as possible to listen for anything that could indicate their victim’s whereabouts. They’re spread out a little, but for the most part they all walk reasonably close together, the beams of their torches criss-crossing as they fight their way through the windy countryside.

Thankfully, it’s only a couple of hours into the search and rescue mission that a call crackles over the radio, telling them that Marissa had been found, beaten and weak but alive. Spencer can’t even bring himself to feel any kind of victory or relief, nothing being able to penetrate the haze of pain he’s in. Everyone else chatters happily enough as they converge back together for his silence to go mostly unnoticed.

His obscurity doesn’t last long, though.

“Are you ever gonna tell us what happened to your foot, Spence?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow at Spencer’s heavy limping and Derek’s worried hovering. By the second mile of their walk, Spencer had given up trying to hide the limp, instead focusing on gritting his teeth and breathing through the pain as it flares up his leg.

She’s clearly voicing what everyone else is thinking, judging by their worried expressions. Part of him wants to give in and tell the team, but the part that wants to continue to hide his embarrassment away, the part riddled with fear and insecurity wins out. He stubbornly shakes his head, closing his eyes tightly. In the kind of terrible timing so emblematic of the life of Spencer Reid, in the short second he has his eyes closed he manages to stumble into a small divot in the ground, and he trips, twisting his ankle all over again as he falls down.

His vision whites out, the pain suddenly all-consuming, punching nausea through his stomach and he can’t help the cry he lets escape as he lays helplessly in the grass.

“Spencer!”

Derek crouches next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder as he checks him over frantically, and Spencer can’t help but lean up into it, craving the kind of comfort he can only get from his best friend. Hotch joins them quickly as JJ and Elle stand close enough to offer support without crowding him.

“That’s it, Spencer,” Hotch says firmly, blinkers well and truly off by now, “you need to tell us what’s going on.”

As the blinding pain slowly fades into something minutely more bearable, Spencer forces his eyes open to face the team. “I fell down the stairs this morning,” he finally admits, sullen and teary. “Pretty sure I sprained my ankle.”

Hotch wastes no time in gently rolling his trouser leg up, exposing his ruined loafers and the bruised, swollen joint to the torches of his teammates. Derek audibly winces as he positions himself behind Spencer, supporting his back as his tired, aching body starts to collapse.

Hotch levels him with a stern glare after he finishes his tender inspection of his ankle. “Spencer, it was incredibly irresponsible to hide something like this. You not only put yourself in danger, but you put the rest of the team at risk, too—”

He doesn’t get any further in his lecture before the tears he’s been holding back all day, finally spill over and a dry, sudden sob, his bruised and aching rib cage heaving as he starts to unravel at the seams. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Softening immediately, Hotch puts his leg down gently and shuffles closer, taking Spencer’s hand in his. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry for yelling,” he says soothingly, watching as Spencer presses closer into Derek’s hold. “You’re not in trouble, I’m just worried about you, Spencer. Why didn’t you tell us you were hurt?”

He squeezes his eyes closed again: it’s as much dignity as he can hope for when his face is crumpling and he’s sobbing on the cold, hard ground as it nears midnight. “I just… I just wanted to be worth something.” It’s an admission he’ll regret later, he already knows that, but he’s so so tired and all he wants is the comfort that only his team can provide.

Derek pulls him into an even tighter hug before anyone can react, holding him against his chest fiercely while his hand plays gently with his hair. “Spencer, you are worth something whether you’re injured or fully intact, you hear me? We’d love you with a broken leg, with a bad case of the flu, if you quit the team tomorrow and decided to never work again. But most importantly, we love you now, kid. No matter what. Nothing can change that, alright?”

“He’s right, Spence,” JJ says softly, sinking to the ground along with Elle. “I know you think we only tolerate you because of your brain and what you bring to the table on a case, but you’re so much more than that. We love your nerdy rambles and your awkward waves and the way you love so openly and protectively, no matter how many times you’ve been hurt before. We love everything about you, Spencer.”

“Yeah, if you’re hurt, Reid, we wanna know,” Elle chimes in, sounding a little hesitant as the one who’s known him the shortest amount of time, but firm in what she’s saying nonetheless. “I know I haven’t been on the team that long but this is a group of people that watches out for one another, that supports each other, that builds everyone up leaving no person behind. That includes you, Spencer Reid, even when you don’t feel like it.”

“Everyone is right, Spencer,” Hotch says softly, still holding his cold and shaking hand protectively in his gloved one. “I’m just sad that you still prioritise your work over your own health. You are not this job. You are an incredibly talented and multi-faceted person that oftentimes needs a little TLC, and until you’re willing and able to do that for yourself, we’ll be here to do it for you, okay?”

Tears are streaming down his face as he nods, feeling warmer than he has all day despite the cold dark night they’ve found themselves in. The strangest part about it all is that he’s actually starting to believe them. It’s not like they haven’t all said similar things before, but hearing them all vehemently corroborating each other’s stories, hearing it all laid out in front of him as they promise him with earnest expressions that they’re telling the truth is doing something to shift the leaden weight of insecurity and low self-esteem that presses on his chest each and every day.

“Now, come on,” Derek says. “Let’s get back to base and I’ll go with you to the hospital to get you checked out, make sure it’s nothing more than a sprain.”

He shifts behind Spencer, using his already firm hold on his waist to help gently pull him up to a standing position, taking most of his weight as Spencer whimpers at the pain that swiftly reignites at the movement.

Derek turns around and bends at the knees slightly as Spencer leans on Hotch, before looking over his shoulder, his signature grin returning. “Hop on, pretty boy.”

“What— Derek! I’m way too heavy!”

Everyone immediately breaks out in amused laughter, even Hotch chuckling fondly.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Come on, Spencer, you’ve gotta weigh what, like, 140lbs? 150? You can’t exactly walk on that ankle anymore and it’s the only way we’re getting back without calling for a search and rescue team of our own.”

“Reid, I’m pretty sure I could give you a piggy-back ride,” Elle points out, raising her eyebrows. “Just let him carry you back.”

Let us take care of you is implicit enough in everyone’s words and expressions that it doesn’t really need to be said, but Spencer hears it anyway.

Hotch helps him up onto Derek’s back and they begin the long trek towards the search and rescue base, and Spencer’s never appreciated the easy banter they all share more. Hotch is visibly relaxed with the case solved and his youngest team member soon to be taken care of, so he joins in with the conversation, his light and happy expression that he only ever wears around his family or the team on rare days and nights off, replacing his focused frown.

Spencer clings on tightly to Derek and presses his face into the space between his neck and his shoulder, closing his eyes as he listens to the conversation, the vibration of Derek’s laugh and the shameless flirting between Elle and JJ taking his mind off the pain that throbs in his ankle with each step Derek takes.

When they finally get back to base, they all gather round the ambulance that’s been designated to take Spencer and Derek to the hospital.

JJ steps forward to give him a hug first. “Love you, Spence. Let us know what they say, okay?”

Hotch surprises him by stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug as well, forgoing the macho pats on the back for a short but close embrace that feels fatherly enough for tears to prick the back of Spencer’s eyes. “We all love you, Spencer. Remember that okay. And actually listen to what the doctors tell you. Morgan, you’re my eyes and ears.”

“Well now I want a hug, too,” Elle says dramatically, squeezing him in a tight embrace for just a moment before stepping back, lining up with JJ and Hotch to present a united front of people on his side.

“We’ll see you both in the morning,” Hotch says as the paramedic starts prepping for the journey, moving Spencer onto the gurney and rolling him in.

“Hope they don’t keep you too long!” JJ calls just as the doors close, making them both chuckle.

Derek takes his hand in both of his, staying out of the paramedic’s way as she quickly places a line of mild painkillers before sitting back, knowing that there’s not anything more she can do for Spencer until they get to the hospital.

Derek must see the anxious look on Spencer’s face, because he’s quick to reach a hand out and brush his cheek gently. “Hey, I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not gonna leave you on your own, okay? You’ll be alright, pretty boy, you’re gonna be just fine. I promise.”

And on the flight home the next morning he realises that Derek’s promise was kept. He’s fitted out with a crutch and a temporary wrapping around his ankle, resting comfortably with his head in Derek’s lap while his foot sits elevated on a pile of cushions carefully built by JJ, surrounded by people who swear up and down that they love him while proving it to him in a thousand little ways, and he’s really not sure it gets any more alright than that.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @jellejareau @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic-not-stupid (taglist form)

[dweetwise]

some fluffy adamkate for @neilusgrey because this ship is adorable <3 i used some prompts from this post while writing. it fit them too well!

word count: 3320

Adam X Kate: Turn your face to the sun

“So? What do you think?” Kate asked.

Adam looked around their surroundings. They were attending a folk concert held in Kate’s hometown, and even though it wasn’t Adam’s usual scene, he’d been quick to accept when Kate had invited him.

The sun was shining bright in the sky and nearly everyone was smiling, the sound of music getting louder but nowhere near unbearable as they approached the small stage in the middle of the park. There weren’t as many people as Adam had feared, only a small crowd forming in front of the stage.

“It looks nice,” Adam said. “I’m glad you asked me to come.”

“Of course!” Kate said. “It’s about time we—”

“Kate! Over here!” someone shouted from behind them, effectively interrupting their conversation.

Adam watched as Kate turned around to face a group of people, her face cracking into a brilliant smile once she seemed to recognize them.

“Hey, y’all!” Kate beamed, hugging one of the women. “Long time, no see.”

It was strange to see Kate so in her element. Just walking across the park and to the event area, they’d been stopped several times as people wanted to catch up with Kate and a few even asked for her autograph.

“It’s so good to see you! Where have you been?” one of Kate’s current admirers asked.

“Oh, I did a bit of soul-searching,” Kate explained. “Kinda needed to drop off the grid for a while.”

Adam could tell Kate was struggling with the lie. It had been a couple months since their escape from the Entity and they were only just now getting used to the normalcy of the real world. Standing here, being alive and well and surrounded by happy people with the sun shining down on them was almost too good to be true.

“This is my date, Adam!” Kate introduced him.

But the best thing about the situation was that Adam was here with the most incredible woman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“Nice to meet you,” Adam said, giving a polite nod to the group.

“Likewise!” one of Kate’s friends said. “We’ll leave you to it, but let’s catch up sometime, okay?”

“That sounds lovely!” Kate agreed, before turning to Adam. “Come on, let’s find a good spot!”

Adam followed Kate closer to the stage, almost transfixed on the way her long dress swayed in the gentle breeze. With her flowy sundress and the daisies in her hair, Kate looked like a personification of summer, and Adam was honored to be allowed to bask in her warmth.

It also reminded Adam how overdressed he was for the occasion. He’d chosen to wear a suffocating button-up and stiff chinos that already felt too warm for the weather. Hopefully he’d manage a few hours in the Pennsylvanian summer.

“You wanna stay farther away from the stage?” Kate asked.

“Yes, please,” Adam said with a grateful smile.

Kate knew how much of an introvert he was and she had never appeared to see it as a big deal. The concert was already out of Adam’s comfort zone, so getting some relative privacy would be very welcome.

They found a spot away from the commotion but with a relatively unobstructed view of the stage and Adam pulled out the picnic blanket he’d packed earlier and spread it over the soft grass. All the while Kate kept looking at him in intrigue, making Adam wonder whether he’d done something wrong.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You have a really good smile, you know that?” Kate said, making Adam realize he’d been smiling the entire time.

“Oh. Thank you,” Adam said, scratching at his neck self-consciously. “I guess I don’t tend to smile that much. Especially after…”

He didn’t need to explain further. Kate nodded in understanding, knowing they all had their own demons to battle after their capture and subsequent escape from the creature that still haunted their nightmares.

“Let’s make some better memories together,” Kate said with an adorable, soft smile.

Adam felt his face heat up and he merely offered a stiff “yes” as they started unpacking their bags.

They’d never officially decided what this was between them. For what felt like years, they’d been closer than friends but not quite lovers. None of the other survivors had batted an eye when Kate sought comfort in Adam’s arms by the campfire every time the trials became too much. There were jokes about them being a couple, sure, but to this day nothing had actually happened between them. Adam had never wanted to push and regardless, a world of violence and death wasn’t exactly the best setting for romance.

But now they were free and Kate had wasted no time in asking him on a date. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he was certain that it had to mean something.

“I brought snacks!” Kate's triumphant grin snapped Adam out of his thoughts.

Adam watched as she retrieved a small box of strawberries as well as a packet of cookies from her beach bag.

“I wanted to have a picnic but didn’t know what you liked, so…” Kate explained.

“That was very thoughtful of you,” Adam said. “I didn’t realize to bring anything…”

“And I didn’t expect you to!” Kate reassured. “Come on, have some!”

They sat down to enjoy the snacks together, catching up on the brief period of time they’d been apart. Adam had been busy with a pile of paperwork about his disappearance in Japan and Kate had temporarily moved in with her parents. It became clear that neither of them were certain what the future would bring.

“There’s so many opportunities!” Kate said. “We can do whatever we want. The freedom is amazing.”

“It is,” Adam agreed. “But also a little overwhelming.”

He had no idea what he would do or where he would even go. All he knew was that he wanted to be near Kate; she was his rock and no matter what happened, he was sure he’d be okay as long as they were together.

Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. They weren’t a couple and it was a little too intense to place so much importance on their friendship.

“We’ll figure something out,” Kate said, and just her smile was almost enough to reassure Adam.

They sat together and finished the snacks while enjoying the music, until the crowd seemed to get even more invigorated as people got up to dance. Adam watched a small group form in front of the stage with people twirling, jumping and laughing as they danced to the upbeat music.

"Let's join them!" Kate suggested almost immediately.

Adam shouldn’t have been surprised. Kate’s love for music knew no bounds, and even now she was nearly shaking with the boundless energy she always seemed to possess.

"We can't just leave our things," Adam tried to reason. "You go on, I'll stay here."

"Aw, you can’t get rid of me that easily! I wanna dance with you!” Kate said. “Nobody's gonna take anything.”

"I'm not much of a dancer," Adam protested, abruptly feeling the nervousness start to kick in.

"You'll be fine, hun—I promise!" Kate smiled at him and extended her bracelet-clad hand. 

Before the fog had swallowed him all those years ago, Adam would have declined in a heartbeat. But he wanted to believe he had changed. During the last few years, he’d learned he was much more capable than he could have ever imagined—a little dancing surely wouldn’t kill him.

So he grabbed Kate’s hand and let himself be briefly pulled into her world of sunshine and spontaneity.

While they approached the stage, Adam tried his best to learn the choreography by observing people dancing. To his mortification, there didn’t seem to be choreography, all of the dancers seemingly able to effortlessly improvise a professional-looking routine.

By the time they reached their destination, Adam’s hand was sweating where it was holding Kate’s. She didn’t seem to care, only turning to him with a bright smile before settling closer to him in a dance position.

"Don't worry hun, just follow my lead!" Kate said.

Kate started leading him into a dance and Adam followed the best he could. He stared at her feet to try to get the hang of her movements, focusing too hard and completely ignoring the beat—

It was only a matter of time before his foot landed on Kate’s much smaller sandal-covered one.

"Sorry!" Adam apologized, embarrassed over his mistake. “Did I hurt you?”

"Don't worry so much," Kate said. "Look at me and just go with the flow."

Adam lifted his gaze to Kate's face and some of his tension melted away under her familiar smile.

Gradually, he got the hang of it. The song changed but the rhythm of Kate's movements stayed the same, and eventually Adam's clumsy steps got more confident and mirrored the spring in Kate's. He learned to read her ques, changing directions when she did and twirling her around when she wanted to. Kate laughed and giggled while they danced, the smile never leaving her face, like this is what she was made to do.

Adam realized she might not have gotten the chance to dance with anyone before this, not since their escape. Kate was never meant for the dull grey world of the Entity; she was meant for this, sun and music and dancing without a care in the world. And Adam was honored to be able to give it to her.

He lost count of how many songs they danced to. Previously, he might have been embarrassed of letting Kate lead, but any worries about arbitrary gender roles had disappeared during the years where their lives were nothing but survival.

Worrying about the past was the last thing on Adam’s mind as he followed his ray of sunshine into another dance. He was sweating something fierce but he didn't care, absently popping a few buttons on his shirt and rolling up the sleeves to try to cool down. Kate seemingly didn’t tire of dancing, but Adam spotted the redness on her cheeks and the more pronounced breaths she took as they picked up the pace and the exertion started to kick in.

At some point, people started forming a ring in some sort of group dance, and Kate didn’t hesitate to guide them to join in. The choreography was easy to understand this time, Adam effortlessly keeping up as everyone danced in a ring, before partnering up and switching every so often. Even though he stumbled a few times, Adam had always prided himself on being a fast learner.

When Kate twirled herself into being his partner for the finale, Adam found himself laughing. He was having fun.

"See? I knew you'd like it!" Kate said.

“Only you could convince me to do something like this,” Adam said.

Kate laughed with him, the sound radiant and inviting. She was beautiful and so full of light, turning heads even on the makeshift dance floor. He didn’t think he’d ever quite understand what she saw in a nerd like him.

Once the song ended, Kate let out a sigh.

"Whew, I'm beat!" she said.

Adam couldn't agree more. No matter how much he enjoyed the dancing, he was starting to get winded and his shirt was now drenched in sweat.

"Let's go drink some water," Adam suggested.

They returned to their spot and, to Adam's surprise, everything seemed to be exactly the way they left it. He'd completely forgotten about his worries while they danced.

Adam got out his water bottle from his backpack, when Kate's voice interrupted him.

"Aww, no!" Kate said, clearly disappointed when she peered into her bag.

"What's wrong?" Adam asked.

"I didn't close my bottle properly," Kate said, pulling out her wet, empty water bottle. "It's leaked all over."

She showed her bag that contained some now-soaked cookie crumbs and her keys bathing in water.

"I'm so sorry," Adam said. "We should hang it to dry somewhere—"

"It's not a big deal," Kate said with a smile. "It's just gonna smell like soggy cookies for a bit. That's what I get for being a klutz."

Adam's full water bottle felt heavy in his hands.

"Here, have some of mine," he said, extending the item.

"Are you sure?" Kate asked.

"Absolutely," Adam said. "We need to stay hydrated in this weather."

"You're the sweetest," Kate said and Adam felt his face heat up from the compliment.

Kate accepted the bottle, and only took one prim, small sip before holding it out for him.

"Come on, take a proper drink," Adam encouraged. "We’ll split it in half."

Kate gave him a sheepish smile, before tipping her head back and taking big gulps of the beverage, drinking nearly half of the bottle.

"Whew, that was refreshing," Kate said with a happy sigh. "Thanks, doll."

"My pleasure," Adam said.

He followed Kate's lead and emptied the bottle with similar gusto. The water felt heavenly in his dry throat and overheated body.

Afterwards, Adam insisted on setting up Kate's bag to dry in the sun.

"It should dry in no time," Adam said. "It's really hot today. I wish I was dressed for the weather."

"But you look so snazzy," Kate smiled. "Feels like I'm with royalty."

"I don't know about that. You look incredible today. I mean—err, you always do, but..." Adam floundered. "Your dress is beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate said with a shy smile, doing a little twirl. "It's good for dancing."

"I still can't believe you got me to dance," Adam said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Admit it. You had fun back there!” Kate was positively beaming at him.

"I did," Adam admitted. "And I never would have tried it on my own. Thank you."

"Thank you for doing it for me," Kate said. “I know this ain’t your thing, and I didn’t wanna push too hard. But I knew you’d be great, and…”

Kate trailed off, and Adam followed her gaze to an ice cream booth at the foot of the hill.

"Do you want to get ice cream?" Adam asked.

"I was just about to ask!" Kate grinned.

They walked to the kiosk, only standing in a short line as most people were still busy dancing. Adam took some time to browse the list of available flavors while they waited.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Adam asked.

"Not yet—there's so many to choose from!" Kate said, almost as in awe.

Adam hummed in agreement and focused back on the list. He was a little disappointed to not find matcha flavor on the menu, as it was his favorite from his time in Japan. Most of the options looked sickly sweet, and Adam skimmed over the cookie and candy flavors until eventually settling onto pistachio.

He glanced over at Kate who was still staring at the menu. If Adam had to guess, she was choosing between some of the more strange flavors—maybe even thinking about mixing them into a daring combination.

"Okay, I'm done!" Kate said once it was their turn to order. "You go first."

"One pistachio, please," Adam said.

"And for the lady?" the vendor asked.

"Chocolate," Kate said.

Adam turned to look at Kate in surprise.

"I ain't that adventurous with food," Kate explained with a sheepish grin.

After Kate's usual spontaneity and boldness, it was incredibly endearing to find out that she was a picky eater. Adam was suddenly eager for an opportunity to introduce her to Japanese and Jamaican flavors in the future.

"You can't go wrong with the classics," Adam assured.

"Here you go," the vendor said, handing over their orders. "That’s $3 a piece."

Kate started fishing out her wallet, but Adam beat her to it.

"It's on me," Adam said, already paying for their orders. “I owe you for the snacks.”

"Well, ain't you a gentleman," Kate said with a mischievous smirk.

Rather than stay closer to the stage, they returned to their spot to enjoy their ice creams.

"How is it?" Adam asked.

"Love it!" Kate beamed. "Do you wanna try?"

Butterflies danced in Adam's gut when Kate extended the treat to him. He nodded and carefully took a bite out of the ice cream. The chocolate flavor was not as rich as he'd normally like, but the texture was creamy and it didn’t taste too sweet.

"It's really good," Adam said. "Do you want to try mine?"

Kate regarded his green ice cream skeptically.

"Sure!" she eventually decided.

Kate hesitantly tasted the ice cream with the very tip of her tongue, before her face twisted into a grimace and Adam found himself laughing.

"Not for you, huh?" he teased.

"No, sorry, it's…" Kate said. "It tastes weird. Why is it salty?"

"Different strokes, I suppose," Adam smiled, digging back into his strange-tasting dessert.

They ate in companionable silence, watching the music performance and the people dancing to it.

"Thanks for coming with me today," Kate broke the silence.

"Thank you for inviting me," Adam said. "It's not my usual type of event, so I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself."

"What are you talking about? If anything, you're too cool for a place like this," Kate said.

"That's definitely not true," Adam protested. "I am not ‘cool’ in the slightest."

"Yeah you are," Kate insisted with a smile. "You're always so calm and polite and know exactly what to do. It feels like I'm just a dumb country girl in the presence of a prince or something."

Adam couldn't believe his ears. All this time, he’d thought Kate was too good for him, and she’d felt the exact same way about him?

"You are anything but dumb, Kate," Adam said. "To be honest, your charisma and talent sometimes overwhelms me. I often wonder what you see in me."

Kate laughed; not a mocking one, but a laugh that told Adam he was being absurd.

"Guess we're both kinda dumb, then," Kate smiled.

Adam returned the smile, feeling immense relief. He now knew that—for some crazy reason—Kate was just as fond of him as he was of her. Neither of them broke eye contact, and for a while they merely looked into each other’s eyes while their ice creams slowly melted.

"Can I kiss you?" Adam found himself asking.

It was barely above a whisper, finally having the courage to ask the words he hadn’t been able to during all these years.

"Thought you'd never ask," Kate said just as softly.

They both leaned into the kiss, and feelings of affection for this woman bloomed in Adam's chest when their lips met. Kate's lips were chilly from the ice cream but there was an underlying warmth in them that spread through Adam's body, like he was basking in the glow of the sun.

Their lips moved slowly against each other’s, hesitant at first and then finding a shared rhythm; just like when they danced together earlier.

When they pulled away, Adam was breathless, but it wasn’t not from a lack of air; it was from everything that was Kate.

"Hmm," Kate said conversationally.

"Hmm?” Adam repeated.

"Guess I don't mind pistachio flavor when it's mixed with Adam flavor," Kate smirked.

Adam threw his head back and laughed, and Kate did too.

They finished their half-melted ice creams while listening to the last songs of the concert. They talked about anything and everything, Adam no longer feeling like he had to hold back or keep up appearances. He placed his hand on Kate's and Kate insisted on trying some more ice cream from his lips.

It was the best date of Adam's life and he couldn't wait to see what their future might bring, knowing that Kate would be right by his side.

[autisticmisumi]

Birthday cakes have always been a weird thing for Chikage. They're sweet by nature, most often too sweet for Chikage to handle, and so he'd usually reject it, or let it go to someone else.

For his own birthdays, the cakes are... weirder. His repulsion of sweets and love of spice is well known, and so, every year the other members of Spring Troupe will attempt to make a cake spicy enough for him while still 'counting as a cake' (to quote Itaru directly). It has... debatable success, but always gets eaten.

(Chikage's certain Citron would know how to make it properly, and even more certain that he's the biggest obstacle in doing so. Maybe Chikage should watch them next year?)

This year is no different. They've already had celebrations with the rest of the dorm, including a more traditional birthday cake that everyone could have, and now Spring Troupe were gathered by themselves in Room 103, the spicier cake placed on the table in front of where Chikage sat. As he cuts the cake, he hears Masumi mumble something along the lines of 'I still think we should've dumped the whole thing in', to which Tsuzuru lightly elbows him and hisses 'At least wait until he's tried it!'

For whatever reason, it's at that point Chikage notices he's been smiling for quite a while now. Once he's finished cutting his slice, he looks up to see them all waiting with bated breath, and when he takes a bite, Sakuya almost immediately leans forward in excitement.

"How is it?!" He asks, and Chikage hums in deliberation as he finishes chewing and swallows.

"It's..." Honestly? He isn't sure. The simple answer is, as always, that it's not spicy enough, and also tastes very very weird. But even if he doesn't remember exactly how last year's cake tasted, he trusts them to have made this one even spicier; and even if he knows it's the spice he's being asked about, there's so much more to the cake than that.

What he decides on is, "It's warmer than last year."

Almost immediately, Masumi cuts in with "So it could be better. I knew it."

"It means we're getting better!" Sakuya corrects, then starts looking between all of them. "Ah, someone wrote down the recipe we used this time, right?"

"I have it write here!" Citron declares, waving a piece of paper in the air.

"LOL. You know that pun doesn't work verbally, wright?" Itaru comments, before leaning over to see the paper. "Oh, cool. It's in hieroglyphs."

"It's-?!" Tsuzuru leans over too, then snatches the paper away. "Hey, these are just doodles, aren't they? How are we supposed to decipher this next year!?"

Before the situation can escalate, Masumi sighs and holds his phone out. "This was obviously going to happen. I wrote it down myself."

Citron pouts. "Oh, Masumi, why must you ruin my fun like this?"

Watching this scene, Sakuya starts giggling, and Chikage finds himself laughing too.

"Now now, is the recipe really that important?" He states. "I'm sure next year will be even better regardless."

Sakuya smiles at him, pumping his fists in the air. "It definitely will be! We'll make sure of it!"

This year's cake is, somehow, still very sweet. But he wouldn't expect anything less from his precious family.

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 3/?: Focalize

It is a tranquil spring evening by the time Sakura appears within view behind the hospital's glass entryway, a blur of carnation and sage and ivory. It is just a few minutes past seven; it seems she is waving goodbye to what he assumes is the receptionist further into the building, out of sight. Then she’s pushing one of the doors open with her shoulder and coming into focus, pastel colors subdued in dusk.

Sasuke notices she’s carrying a plain tote bag, and that there are also two large books and what looks like something reminiscent of a magazine in her hands, neatly stacked and held to her chest. She is wearing a sweater that is slightly oversized, a desaturated green.

Her face lights up when she sees him standing there, leaning against one of the blue columns situated a few steps away, closer to the road; her expression belays something like a mixture of ardor and avidity, and as she approaches, he also observes her cheeks match her hair.

His heart swells pleasantly in his chest; any shred of loneliness he felt in the past few hours dissolves.

“Sasuke-kun,” she chimes in affectionate greeting as she ambles over to him, all lenity and upturned lips.

“Sakura.” Her eyes flash lighter, more vibrant, as she gets closer; they are reflecting glow from a nearby streetlight that flipped on promptly at seven, an electrified yellow-green.

There is a short moment in time where they just gaze at each other, scant amount of steps between them, an oblivion of chartreuse and charcoal in spring twilight.

“How was your first day back?” She finally asks, smiling up at him.

He thinks it over for a second as he studies her, a gentle breeze of springtide. “...Fine. I saw Kakashi and the dobe.”

Her smile shifts into a knowing one. “I’m going to guess paperwork and Ichiraku’s.”

He pulls the health screening forms out of his pocket in answer, and her dimple makes an appearance.

“You can come by tomorrow just after eight in the morning, if that works for you; I’ll be here.” Different hours than today, then, he presumes.

He feels he should clarify that she’s not coming in early just for his sake. “...Shouldn’t I make an appointment?”

Sakura shakes her head. “Thursdays and Fridays I don’t have appointments or surgeries until a little later in the day. The majority of those mornings are set aside for medical research and correspondence with some of the clinics. As long as it’s before eleven, I can step away from things for a bit.”

Research. Interesting. She hadn't mentioned much about that in her letters; he hadn't realized it was something she did regularly. “What kind of research?”

She blinks in surprise, and he thinks she looks a little sheepish. “...It depends. Right now we’re doing some longitudinal studies on mice; behavioral assessment in accordance with certain stimuli, neurobiological response, brain scans, that sort of thing... I’ve also got some poisons I’m looking at for antidote development, but they’re pretty rare, so it’s not super pressing.”

His eyes flick to the books in her arms, a silent question. Her lips quirk upwards even more, then; he tries not to focus on them for too long, because she’s shifting the texts so he can read the titles. The thin magazine-like one is labeled Progress in Neuro-Psychopharmacology and Biological Psychiatry; it must be a research journal. The top book reads Neuroanatomy Through Clinical Cases, and the other reads Molecular Mechanisms of Neurotransmitter Release.

“...Some light reading,” he comments dryly, his version of a joke, and he revels in her soft exhale of breath, a shy version of a laugh. He has missed it.

“I suppose. I actually need to return these; they’re almost due. I meant to do it yesterday, but...” She’s blushing again. Vivid eyes meet his hesitantly before sweeping away. “...I forgot.”

Heat edges up his neck.

“I… wasn’t sure what you wanted to do this evening,” she continues, pursing her lips a little as her fingers clutch the books closer to her again. “I thought maybe we could swing by the library? I’d like to take a quick look to see if they have some new things in yet; it shouldn’t take very long.”

Sasuke muses that Sakura absolutely is the type to visit the library regularly. He used to go often, when he was younger. He wasn’t checking out books of that caliber, though; he wonders how long she’s had them. He also ponders momentarily if rogue ninja status is enough for the powers that be to revoke your library card from the system. Probably.

He hasn’t been able to read regularly for awhile, being away; books have been unnecessary weight, something extra to carry, and also a distraction from what he was trying to accomplish. Though he would accompany her wherever regardless, he realizes he would like to start reading again. It would be something to occupy his free time, when she is busy.

He nods his assent.

“Okay,” she breathes, looking a little relieved and meeting his eyes again, luminescent jade. "They close at eight today, so we should probably get going."

He nods again, glancing down at the books still in her arms. He considers for a second, then holds his hand out. Sakura blinks in confusion, long lashes skimming her cheekbones.

“...I’ll carry them,” he offers, neck heating up again as she stares. “...If you’d like.”

Her skin blooms with color, darker than earlier. “Oh. Thank you.” She hands them to him carefully, soft fingers brushing his. Her touch is delicate, incredibly distracting; her glowing cheeks, even moreso.

She adjusts her bag over her shoulder and then turns; he falls into step next to her as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

They walk just east of the hospital, which tells him the library is likely still in the same location, despite Konoha’s changing landscape. Some of the buildings they pass along the way are under construction. That seems to be a recurring theme in the village right now; much of what he saw earlier today passing through with Naruto was the same. Sasuke wonders if the library will have expanded, too. He doesn’t think he’s passed by it, yet.

There are a few people milling about, but not nearly as many as earlier. He supposes the majority of residents must be retired for the evening, inside their homes with family. There are a few restaurants they pass that smell fairly appetizing, but Sakura doesn’t say anything, so he concludes he was right in thinking that she has eaten already.

“So, how were things with Kakashi-sensei and Naruto?” Sakura asks conversationally, peering up at him from his right. “Anything other than paperwork?”

Sasuke contemplates before responding. “...Naruto and I went apartment hunting.”

Pink brows furrow a little bit as she grins. “Did you invite him?” She asks, though he suspects by her expression she already knows the answer.

He shakes his head. “Kakashi mentioned it as I was leaving and he invited himself.”

She laughs, then, glancing in the direction of the mountain of faces at their old sensei. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He probably appreciated a morning with Naruto out of his hair. He’s been helping there a lot, when he’s not on missions.” She pauses, then adds, “I imagine apartment hunting with Naruto would be pretty draining, though. He’s gotten a little better at cooling it with the nonstop chatter since Hinata, but not by a ton.” She stops again, thinking, before inquiring, “Did you end up finding a place?”

Sasuke nods. “It’s north of here.”

She smiles again, then purses her lips as if she’s considering whether to say something more or not. Finally she adds, green eyes darting to his and then looking away shyly, “...Not too far away, then.”

His gaze softens. “...Not too far.”

They amble by a few street vendors selling gardening supplies, closing up carts for the evening; they must be doing fairly well, as all that’s left over from the day's plantable wares are saplings here and there, and a few starters, small labels detailing their required care poking up from the dirt containers they’re sitting in. There are several taller displays interspersed between carts, stocked with watering cans, spades, gloves, and the like. Sasuke thinks it is quite trusting of the merchants to leave their goods out overnight, evidently without fear that they will be stolen or damaged; many of them are walking away holding only money boxes. It speaks to the relative security of Konoha, in comparison to most of the places he's been.

“Did you get everything you needed for your apartment today?” Sakura asks him after they meander a few more steps.

He blinks. “...Mostly."

“Was there something in particular you wanted to do, after the library? We could stop by a store, if they’re open, and get what you're missing.”

He shakes his head, then admits, “I… didn’t have anything planned.” He worries, then, that maybe he was supposed to plan something. They’re together now, or at least he hopes they are; he'd kissed her, and he would like to, again, if they're alone. Maybe this should have been more formal. He then thinks he should answer the second part of her inquiry: a box and a drying rack would probably be easy to find at a general store, but the majority of places in Konoha that are open past seven only sell food. “...I think the store I went to closed at seven,” he adds.

Sakura looks as if she’s deliberating again. “What are you missing, still?” He notices she doesn’t seem upset that he didn’t plan anything; maybe it’s okay.

It takes him a moment to respond, carefully. “...A small storage box, and a laundry rack.”

She brightens. “I actually have a spare drying rack that I'm not using, if you want it. The washing machine in my unit broke in February, and when my landlady replaced it, she got a washer/dryer combo.” She thinks, then adds, “...And I think I have an empty shoebox in my closet; would that be big enough?”

Something like serendipity unfolds in Sasuke’s chest and begins to vine between his ribs. He thinks unbidden of the blooming cherry blossom tree he can see from his window, just within reach, if he only goes beyond the glass.

He nods. “...Thank you.”

Multifaceted eyes peer up at him warmly. “No problem.” Her cheeks darken again. “We could… walk for a while, and then swing by there at the end. If you want.” Her fingers are gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter. “I wouldn’t mind walking by your building at some point before that, so I… so I know where it is.”

Sasuke nods again, heart skipping a little. He had hoped she would show him where her apartment is tonight, too; he would like to walk her home. He also hopes ‘walk for a while’ means he gets to spend more time with her between the library and going by his building, before they go to hers.

He thinks maybe he should voice that. It comes out as a question. “...We could walk around a bit after the library?”

She’s gazing up at him with red cheeks and smiling with a gentle light in her eyes. “...I’d like that,” she murmurs.

His ears feel warm again.

They turn a corner, and then they are at the library. There is a small expanded portion of the building on the south side now, and it is painted a slightly different mauve-leaning gray than it used to be, but otherwise it appears the same. When they near the entrance, Sakura pulls open the door for him, since his hand is occupied.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, before they head inside, bell on the door jingling.

The librarian working at the front desk nods at Sakura in recognition as they enter, a fairly young woman with chestnut hair. The librarian Sasuke remembers was quite a bit older, elderly now that he’s thinking about it. He briefly wonders if she passed away in his absence. The thought makes him morose; he hopes she just retired. She had always been kind to him.

“Finished with those already, Sakura?” The woman asks, friendly and motioning to the books in Sasuke’s arm as he makes his way to the desk to set them down, Sakura beside him. She must know her well.

“Yes; the journal was interesting, this time. Very relevant to the experiments we're running, and much more substantial than the last edition.” There is something somewhat critical in her voice regarding the referenced last edition, as if something in it wasn’t up to her academic standards. She’s well within reason to be captious; she has become an expert in her field in a rapid amount of time, and if she’s doing research regularly, he’s sure she has the data to back up her assessment. He wonders just what kind of experiments she’s running that have to do with neuro-psychopharmacology; whatever they are, he imagines they must be complex.

The woman is wearing a name tag that reads Ichika, Sasuke can see now that they’re closer. Sakura pulls out what must be her library card from her tote bag; it’s connected to a lanyard with several keys and what he presumes is an ID badge for the hospital.

“Thank you," the librarian says as Sakura hands her card over. As she does so, the woman glances at Sasuke with brown eyes, and then back to Sakura, as if waiting for an introduction. “And this is?”

“This is Sasuke,” she answers, smiling, then adds, “Uchiha.”

“Welcome,” the woman named Ichika greets him, without any malice. Sasuke wonders if she just doesn’t know who he is, or if she’s being friendly because of Sakura’s presence. Maybe it’s because she’s a civilian.

“...Thank you,” he offers sincerely after a moment.

“It was nice of you to carry those books. I know from experience they’re quite heavy. My name’s Ichika.” She gestures to her name tag. “I don’t suppose you like to read as much as Sakura does?” Ichika laughs as she hands Sakura’s card back and starts scanning the books as returned. “I think by now there are more books in the library that she’s read than ones she hasn’t.”

Sasuke glances at Sakura knowingly, and she looks downwards bashfully for a second.

“...I like to, but I don't think I’d understand half of what’s in these,” Sasuke answers honestly, turning his gaze back to the librarian. He sees Sakura flush out of the corner of his eye.

Ichika laughs. Sasuke thinks then that she really must not know of his prior rogue ninja status. “I usually have her write down the titles of the books she’d like us to add, because I don’t know that I can even spell some of the words.” She squints at the last book. “ Molecular Mechanisms of Neurotransmitter Release. I haven’t the faintest idea what a neurotransmitter is, or what it would be releasing.”

Sakura smiles. “Neurotransmitters are the body’s chemical messengers. A release is when the neurotransmitter causes a response in the receiving neuron; they can be disrupted in diseases and biological toxins. Tetanus is a good example; it goes up synaptic terminals of interneurons where it blocks the release of inhibitory neurotransmitters. The result of the block is that motorneurons become overactive, and then cause muscle contractions and spastic paralysis, like lockjaw.”

Ichika blinks blankly. “I don’t know where you keep that information in your head, Sakura, because it certainly wouldn’t fit in mine. Guess I’ll try not to step on any nails in the meantime.” She’s shaking her head, but her tone is amicable. “Well, they’re all checked in, with a few days to spare. I left out the new journals and that other book you asked about in the usual spot, back in the Medicine section.”

Sakura nods, and the librarian’s gaze turns back to him.

"Would you like a library card?”

Sasuke is glad he won’t have to ask. “...I used to have one. I’m not sure if it’s still on file.”

“I can check our records, if you want to browse in the meantime. If it’s not still on file, we can set you up with a new one; you can take books today either way, if you find some you’re interested in.”

Sasuke nods; that was easier than he thought it would be. “...Thank you.” Ichika turns to approach a row of filing cabinets a bit further back behind the main desk area, he assumes to check for his name in their database; he turns to Sakura.

She’s smiling at him as if she wants to ask him a question, but she doesn’t say anything. When she turns to journey further back into the library, he follows. They pass through two interior rooms, organized by genre and alphabet just the same as they had been years ago. The shelves are a little fuller than they used to be; with the population expanding, it makes sense that they now have a wider selection available.

They turn a corner to another interior room, and suddenly he sees a familiar face. His replacement is hunched over in a corner, nose buried in a book that appears from its cover to be about painting. When Sasuke inspects the rest of the room, he sees that the majority of the books in this section have titles related to art.

“Oh, hey, Sai,” Sakura greets casually, heading over to him. Dark eyes glance up at her from his book. Seeing him here must be a regular occurrence, given her lack of surprise.

"Hello, Ugly,” he responds, somehow both cheerful and monotone all at once. Sasuke frowns. He’d been around Sai a few times following the war, before he left for his travels. He never liked his nickname for Sakura.

Sai then looks to him, still standing at the threshold of the room, keeping his distance. He knows him, but not well.

“Welcome back, Traitor," he adds, tone friendly enough. Sasuke supposes that one’s fair. He inclines his head minutely, hand in his pocket.

Sai twists his gaze back to Sakura. "Have you recovered from your birthday extravaganza?"

Sakura blanches and stiffens a little in surprise as Sasuke eyes her with great interest; clearly this was not something she’d expected to be asked about. "Uh… Yeah. It doesn't take long; I eat during and can heal my headache the morning after."

Sai nods. “Yes, Beautiful said you didn’t get nearly as plastered as she wanted you to.” The way he says it is with way too positive of an inflection, as if he’s talking about it being great weather outside instead of crude wording for getting drunk.

Sakura rolls her eyes, then. “She would think that.” She pauses, then looks at Sai carefully. "Ino should be back tonight, right?"

"Yes. I am excited. I'm feeling quite amorous."

Sasuke twitches and his frown sinks deeper, but Sakura rolls her eyes as if she is used to this lack of filter, and gently pushes his book into his face, firmly but carefully so as not to damage it.

"Too much information. Just say you miss her."

Sai smiles as he moves the book away. "It is less information than Beautiful gives."

"That's because she's not normal," Sakura replies, sighing. Sai nods almost mechanically, as if he is cataloging this tidbit on human social interaction away in a filing cabinet for future reference.

There is a pause that is just a bit too long, before Sai offers, “I am researching for an upcoming painting.” Sasuke doesn’t know Sai well enough to understand, but Sakura does; apparently this is his way of telling her that he is busy with his book.

"I won’t keep you, then. Don't let her forget about our plans, though, and tell her I missed our spar this week."

Sai smiles. "She was preparing a new playlist prior to her mission." This also interests Sasuke, but not as much as Ino trying to get her ‘plastered’. He is for some reason having great difficulty imagining Sakura even a little drunk.

Sakura sighs deeply through her nose this time, and says flatly, with no enthusiasm, "Great.” After a beat, she adds, “Well anyways, tell her I say hi. See you. Good luck with your painting.”

Sai nods, and Sakura then turns to go a different direction, Sasuke following close behind. They pass through four more interior rooms before they finally make it to the Medicine section towards the back of the building, where one book and two more medical journals are sectioned neatly away in an empty portion of shelf. The book is just as thick as the one she’d just returned.

“I didn’t know you liked to read, still,” Sakura mentions as she carefully picks up the stack. She’s smiling at him again; that must be what she wanted to say earlier. Maybe she’d expected Sai would be there, that they would pass through the room he was sitting in, and that’s why she’d held off.

Sasuke nods. “...I haven’t read much in a while.”

Jade eyes are soft on his. “Well, if you want to look for a bit, I could look, too.”

He nods again.

XXX

Roughly twenty minutes later, Sasuke leaves the library with Sakura, comparing what they’ve checked out underneath the streetlight just outside; the light has faded enough that it is a bit difficult to read without it.

They still had his information on file after all, though the woman, Ichika, had him fill out a renewal slip and updated his contact information to his new address before giving him a new card. It is a strangely comforting and nostalgic feeling, to know that he was still present in the archives of Konoha in ways he had been unaware of.

He had picked out two books: one about the history of kenjutsu in Fire Country, and another historical text documenting the overthrow of the daimyo in the Land of Silence. He has never been there, given it is beyond the reach of Shinobi authority; he figured it would be interesting to read about. With it being a samurai-led country, it made sense to read at the same time as the book on kenjutsu.

“These sound like you,” Sakura says after scanning the titles of what he’s picked, glancing up at him kindly as she rotates so he can read the information of her own. Cradled in her arms are the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, the other scholarly journal, Human Brain Mapping, the book from the Medicine section titled Translational Research in Traumatic Brain Injury, and what appears to be a fiction book, an addition to the others, titled Spoiled Suitopi.

“You read fiction, too,” he observes as he reads the title of the last one, and she takes this as her cue to shift them back together neatly into one stack, largest to smallest.

She laughs a little. “I try to. It’s a good mental reset after reading medical texts; everything starts to blur together after a while. This was actually a recommendation from Ino; she’s into the dramatic stuff, clearly. Sometimes they’re decent.”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to ask. “...A birthday extravaganza?”

She smiles timidly, expression shifting to something a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t call it that; she showed up at my apartment last weekend with ingredients for drinks, and then we watched terrible movies in my living room.”

Sasuke is learning all kinds of things about Sakura this evening. “No Sai?”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s a me and Ino thing; he doesn’t really pick up on the nuance of them being terrible, and we figure we don’t want to give him poor examples to follow… he’s got enough of those already, dating her.” She grins a little, then. “Also, he can’t really handle his liquor.”

Sasuke thinks Sakura must be able to hold hers fairly well; she had seemed pretty confident earlier, regarding the morning after. He knows her mentor Tsunade has quite a reputation. He himself has never drank much.

“He’s... interesting.”

Sakura shrugs nonchalantly. "He's better than he used to be, regarding the oversharing. Ino is worse, honestly.”

He considers her words, then decides to drop the subject, because he doesn’t want to think about that. Sakura had said in her letters that Ino and Sai were together; he can only imagine what she knows about them, likely most of it against her will and learned in the manner he's just witnessed.

He shifts his attention upwards; a few stars are starting to peek their way into the night sky. He follows their path north, to the barest hints of lavender sinking below the horizon. It has become even more silent outside, fewer people and slightly cooler temperatures. There is still a breeze. They spent longer in the library than he'd anticipated.

He’s not sure what time she usually goes to sleep; if she works at eight, it’s probably early. He wonders if he should ask.

“Thank you for going with me. I’m sorry it took a little longer than I thought,” she says, before the question comes to him. He shifts his eyes back towards her; he’s about to tell her not to apologize because he clearly spent time browsing, too, but she’s already speaking again. “You said your apartment is on the north side, right?”

He inclines his head in an affirmative.

“We could walk that direction, if you want; there are a few newer things on that side of town I could point out that are kind of interesting. If…” She pauses, as if considering her wording. “If you haven’t seen them already, I mean.” She gestures to his selection from the library, gripped in his hand. “We could drop off your books, too. Not as much to carry back, then, with the box and the laundry rack.”

“...I’d like that.”

She smiles up at him again, tender effervescence. He realizes as they start making their way north that they both have been talking in more hushed voices, as if the blanket of nighttime shifting atop the village has quieted them in addition to their surroundings.

There is something soothing about treading around at nightfall with her. The village is well-lit enough that it’s fairly easy wandering, and lights emanating from windows cast everything softer, more inviting phosphorescence sifting onto the pathway beneath their feet. Earlier today, trekking back and forth between businesses and his apartment, it had felt more unfamiliar, like there was a disconnect and he was just passing through, despite the knowledge that he was transporting things to a permanent living space. It feels decidedly less transient next to Sakura, a hint of sweetness in tart recollections. He watches their shadows for a fleeting moment, cast close together to the right of them, near touching, and occasionally faded by windowpane glow.

There is a casino she points out a few blocks down where Tsunade apparently used to lose money fairly regularly. She explains it was her mentor’s favorite because it was somewhat close to the residence typically taken up by the Hokage; she used to call it lucky, even though she never won. Sasuke finds out through this story that the Hokage residence is still sitting empty; Kakashi has apparently still not moved there, preferring instead to stay where he has been residing for years. Sakura mentions in a softer tone that she thinks it’s because of his apartment’s proximity to the graveyard where his old teammate, the Nohara girl, is buried.

There is a long stretch of silence in which Sasuke considers just how Kakashi has always seemed able to see straight through him. He’s fairly certain the girl had been a medic, too.

“...Naruto’s house isn’t far from the Hokage’s office, either,” Sasuke observes finally, changing the subject. He’s with her right now; he doesn’t want to ruminate too long. He thinks that's improvement.

Jade eyes sparkle up at him. “No, it’s not. I’m pretty sure that was on purpose; I don’t think they intend to move again. I’m sure he’ll give you the tour eventually - he’s pretty proud of their place; Hinata keeps it pretty nice - but it has some extra rooms.”

He tries not to think about the implications of that for too long. Naruto being in charge of a tiny human is not a very reassuring thought, even with his apparent strides in social awareness.

They pass a yakitori place she mentions is good, a few more blocks down. It seems pretty calm for such a restaurant, not as busy as Ichiraku’s usually is, though it’s later now and they’re likely getting ready to close. “I’ve been there with Naruto and Hinata a few times,” she tells him. “At least, when we can convince him to go eat something other than ramen.”

Sasuke hadn’t realized Sakura was that close with Naruto’s wife, though it makes sense instantaneously; she has known her for years. He thinks for a second before questioning, “Is she still as quiet?”

Sakura purses her lips in thought. “She talks more, now, for sure, but she’s still pretty shy around people she doesn’t know well.” She smiles, then. “I think Naruto has been really good for her, actually. Her for him, too; they balance each other out well.”

He supposes that’s true; perhaps Hinata is the reason for Naruto’s continued emotional growth. He ponders momentarily whether he and Sakura will balance each other out well.

She’s looking at him as if he should say something, so he does. “...He had vegetables in his ramen today.”

Sakura laughs. “Yes, she does force vegetables into his food every once in a while, now, so he's more used to them. I think she might have slipped Teuchi some money to start throwing them in his orders, to be honest."

Sasuke snorts, because of course that would be how that came about.

"It’s for the best," Sakura continues, lips quirking upwards still. He tears his eyes away from her mouth after a second. "He was eating pretty much all noodles and junk for so long. Hopefully it’ll start to cancel out with a few more years.”

As they walk farther, he starts to recognize things from earlier today; a bed of alabaster azaleas surrounding a residential building painted green, and a rather large street sign on a corner, right next to an ornate bench. They are getting fairly close to his apartment building. He holds off on saying something for a little longer, though, because he wants to spend more time with her. He hopes that's not too selfish; he has missed her. A lot.

“There’s an interesting place over there,” Sakura notes, pointing out a clearly aged building that he thinks he walked by on his return trip from the market earlier in the afternoon. “They’re only open two or three days a week, but it’s antiques now. I don’t usually buy anything other than books, but it’s fun to look through; they get rare ones in, from time to time. The owner is really nice.”

He nods. That would be a good way to spend an afternoon. He suspects she must have a collection of books at her apartment, then. He wonders how many.

She is mute for a moment, as if in thought, as they pass through another intersection. He wonders if he should be adding more to the conversation, but it doesn’t feel like an awkward silence; just an easy one.

He spies another familiar sign, this one advertising the market hours. “...My building is a few blocks this way,” he mentions quietly, loath as he is for this evening spent with her to come to an end. She looks up at him for a moment, then nods, and he subtly starts leading her in the general direction of his apartment complex.

His building comes into view a short time later. He points it out right before they pass beneath the cherry blossom tree, and Sakura nods in recognition. “Sai used to live somewhere over in this area, before he moved in with Ino. I’m not sure where, exactly. I know he liked how quiet it was, though.”

Sasuke nods as he pulls his key from his pocket, and they cross the street. He had been right about the light pollution; there is little enough of it that one can see the stars rather clearly, more so than one could from the library.

He wonders if he should perhaps invite her in. He thinks of the letters, still sitting on the small end table in the living room.

She saves him from making the decision. “I’ll wait here,” she tells him politely, leaning up against the old brick. He nods.

He goes up the stairway, down to the last door on the right. Once he unlocks his door, he places the two books on the kitchen table inside, and locks the door again behind him. It only takes him a minute before he is coming down the stairs again.

She smiles at him, then blinks when he holds out his hand. She colors, he thinks, when she realizes he’s offering to carry her books for her again; it’s harder to tell with the lack of light.

As she hands them to him carefully, she says, voice soft, “My place is a little south of the library; not by too much.” Her eyes flit to his, then dart away; there is a careful smile on her lips. “Maybe a little over ten minutes from here.”

They wander together in an easy silence, her leading the way more now. There are a few crickets chirping. It was fairly warm out today, so it makes sense that insects are starting to make their return. A gentle breeze continues to waft through from time to time.

He walks close enough to her that he can faintly smell raspberries, each time the wind blows just right. There are even fewer people out and about now, it being closer to nine in the evening; the road is fairly deserted. They go by the library again, lights turned off, and more closed businesses. It soon transitions into older construction that he assumes must be residential.

She was right; it doesn’t take long, around twelve minutes at a leisurely pace, before she points out a building further down the street. “That’s the one.”

As they get closer, he notes that hers is also an older building, built out of cream brick; there is something nice about that realization, that she also apparently chose something older with a bit of history over something brand new. There are few enough street lights that one can see the stars overhead well at night here, too.

“There’s a patio or balcony attached to each unit,” Sakura remarks once they’re closer, pointing at one on the northernmost part of the second story that is brimming with potted plants, much more than any of her neighbors’. “That one’s mine.”

As they round the corner of the building, he assumes to reach the front entrance, she tells him it was one of the reasons she selected this apartment, aside from its proximity to the hospital and her family's residence. "My parents' house has balconies for both bedrooms. It was strange to imagine not having one. This one’s attached to the bedroom, too; it’s nice to sit out there, if the weather’s not too extreme."

It’s a smaller complex, only two stories high. He thinks there must be six units, given its size and the trio of balconies they passed beneath, three small patios in their shadows on the ground level. It is somewhat close to the hospital, as she’d said, but far enough away that it's not necessarily an area that would bustle with activity, even during the day’s busiest hours; it is very still right now, peaceful. They pass through a glass door that is not locked, leading into a common area with six doors, three on the main level, and then three on the second level, with a metal stairway leading upwards. A huge, two-story high bay window sprawls by the main door, overlaid in a diamond pattern, which must allow light to stream in the majority of the day.

Each of the doors to individual units has at least one or two plants framing it, but he knows which one is hers right away. An array of thriving potted plants surround the upper northernmost side door, spilling out to surround the entire right side of the banister that frames the edges of the building. Hers is also the unit furthest on the upper right, like his; another nice realization. A few of her plants are flowering, but for the most part they are varying shades of green, with accents of paler colors. Desaturated and calming, just as he’d guessed she would like, rather than intensities of marigold and cobalt and fuchsia. It's hard to tell in the dim lighting, but as they get closer, he thinks that the few blooms are pistachio and lavender and blush in color, like her hair.

Or her cheeks. Jade eyes are on him again as he finishes walking up the stairway behind her.

He follows her to her door and leans a little against the railing behind him while she grabs her keys from her bag; he doesn’t think she’d mind if he came in for a few minutes, but she didn’t explicitly invite him, and he wants to be polite.

Once she’s unlocked it, she turns back to him to take her books. Her hand brushes his, and it’s incredibly distracting, again. “I’ll be right back.” She smiles at him before disappearing inside her apartment.

She leaves the door slightly ajar behind her, and he tries not to look. He busies himself with observing what appears by her neighbors’ doorways instead. No light emanates from beneath the doors of any of them; he wonders, this being older construction, if more of the tenants here are older, and are perhaps in bed already. The upper units probably aren’t occupied by extremely elderly people, given the stairs, but the ground level units’ decorations appear more classic and refined, less youthful. He notes the pots surrounding the other doors are very matchy, but Sakura’s are less so; hers are various shades of neutral terracotta colors, soft and inviting, some with unique shapes.

She’s back quickly, foldable drying rack and shoebox in tow, closing her door mostly behind her. She also must have set her tote bag aside; it's no longer situated on her shoulder.

He realizes all at once as she meets his eyes, handing him the items she’s gifting him, that he does not want this evening to end.

“Thank you,” he says, voice husky.

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs, just as hushed.

Sasuke studies her eyes for a long moment, trying to commit the life in them to memory, though he already has, he thinks.

“...May I see you tomorrow after you work?” He finally asks quietly, trying to keep the hope out of his tone. He knows he’ll see her for his medical clearance in the morning, but he would still like to spend time with her outside of that, if she doesn't have plans already.

She looks crestfallen, smile slipping a little before coming back. “I would love to see you, but I have dinner with my parents every other Thursday, since I get off at four. They stopped by for a visit on my actual birthday, but they wanted to do cake and a gift tomorrow night after our usual supper time.” She pauses, searches his expression for a moment. “Maybe the day after tomorrow, if you’re not busy? I get off around four on Fridays, too.”

He nods, committing this part of her schedule to memory. “...I’ll meet you at the hospital, then.”

Her smile gets wider. “Okay. I can show you around the other newer parts of the village, if you’d like. The southwest side has really expanded.”

He nods his head in agreement, thinking. He would like to ask for more time with her, before he starts taking mission assignments again, but he also doesn’t want to monopolize all of it; she has years worth of life here, roots other than him that need tending. He hopes she’s saying yes because she actually wants to, and not simply for his sake.

He takes a deep breath, forcing down nervous vulnerability at his next question. “...And Saturday?”

She blinks, then blushes darker, smile growing wider still. She casts her glance downwards to her feet out of shyness, shifting a bit. “Saturdays I work seven to three; I’m going to stop by the market after for some gardening supplies with Ino, but other than that, I didn’t have anything set in stone.” But then jade eyes flick back up at him, and they are slightly apologetic.

His heart sinks for a second, rejection stinging a little behind his eyes. She doesn’t want to see me that often. He’s been absent for too long. She's probably tired of him already, though she hasn’t said anything. He has enjoyed tonight, but he's aware he doesn't make the best company.

“Naruto sent a clone by this afternoon that was going on about an original Team Seven reunion dinner, though. He mentioned Saturday night as a possibility,” she reveals, and his world comes back into focus, heart reversing upwards back into his chest cavity.

Sasuke huffs amusedly, then, relieved. “...Of course he did.”

She sighs wistfully, shaking her head. “Ichiraku’s, I’m sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve tried everything on the menu in triplicate, at this point.”

He eyes her carefully, trying to dry swallow his fear of rejection like a pill. Corrosion, he thinks. “...After dinner?”

Shimmering seafoam again. Happy, transparently pleased, and he’s glad he asked, shoved away the nerves; he’d do it again in a heartbeat, if it’s going to make her eyes look like that. “Of course. We could… hang out here, if you want. Or was there something you had in mind?”

His gaze softens. “Here is fine,” he answers. It is more than fine, actually. He’d go anywhere, if it meant he could soak in her presence longer, but he’s more than a little curious about what her apartment looks like on the inside. His own is pretty sterile, even now mostly put together after the afternoon, devoid of most anything other than necessities. He has an inkling that Sakura is the type to truly make wherever she's living feel like a home, though, given the pleasant spread of life he’s seen spilling out here on her doorstep.

“Okay,” she confirms, dimple reappearing. “I’ll look forward to it.”

There is something in her eyes after a second, gears turning, a question she must want to ask him.

"Would you…" She's talking even more softly, now, hushed as if she's going to scare him away. Her eyes meet his apprehensively as she shifts her weight from one side to the other. "Would you want to maybe... have tea tomorrow morning? I'm… not sure if you have plans or not, but I have a little time, before I work. There's a good place near the hospital, and then after we could get your exam done at eight like we planned."

The vines between his ribs twist pleasurably. She does want to see him, after all. She's not too busy. She's looking at him nervously, as if he would say no, as if he hasn’t spent the last twenty-four hours longing for her company again.

"...I'll look forward to it," he answers quietly, because he will; he likes tea, occasionally. He thinks he will like it better with her.

Her entire countenance brightens somehow, even as she flushes darker. "Oh. Good." She sounds relieved.

"...I can meet you here," he finds himself saying, and her eyes are sparkling at him, now, at what's implied - longer with her, another walk together. "What time?"

She purses her lips now, apparently still nervous. "Would… seven be too early?" Her voice trails off a little, as if in hesitance, as she finishes the question.

He chooses his next words carefully, meaningfully, so there is no uncertainty. "Not at all."

She regards him then like he has done something wholly wonderful, cheeks a rich red in dim light and expression heart-wrenchingly elated.

There is an expectant pause as the oblivion happens again, dimmer now but just as powerful. He really wants to kiss her; he’s been thinking about it the entire evening. He wonders if she has, too, and if maybe she wants him to. There’s no one around, in this little entry area of her small complex, in front of her door and her plants in faded hues.

He decides to go with his gut.

It’s somehow even better, this time, anticipation and lips meeting and a barely audible exhale of breath through the nose on her part, almost like she’s suddenly at ease; he thinks, pleased, that she must have wanted him to. Her hands gently meet his chest, tentatively pressing against him. He would like to do something with his, but it's still occupied, holding what she's supplied him with. He settles for pressing his lips to hers with a little more confidence than yesterday. It’s tender and over much too quickly, much like the evening they have spent together; all soft light settling, lambent and beguiling.

She is crimson when they part for a breath, before shyly directing her gaze away and shifting back down; he realizes that she must have been standing on the tips of her toes to reach him.

Her hands linger on his chest, and then her gaze comes back up to his, almost determinedly.

“I’m… really happy you’re back.” Her face is still flushed, but she doesn’t look away. Her pupils are dilated, bottomless black dwarfing green.

Heat creeps up his neck. His pulse pounds just below her fingertips, as if she’s tugging at his heartstrings with them.

“...I am, too,” he whispers, before he leans down again.

He thinks that he could stay here forever, clutching all that she’s given him, enveloped in a sweet ambrosia of tart berry and newly unfurling plants and soft lips that he’s thought of all day, now against his again.

She gently drops her hands from his chest when they finally part. She’s smiling; she is so pretty.

“Good night, Sasuke-kun.” Her voice is near a whisper. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“...Good night, Sakura,” he murmurs in response.

XXX

The journey from her place to his really is quite quick; he doesn’t see anyone on his way back. Stars are visible almost the entire way, Leo and Ursa Major and Cassiopeia. The moon is a thin sliver amongst them, raised high in the sky.

Once he's inside, he carefully folds out the drying rack she’s given him in the small laundry closet and lays out damp clothes to allow the air to finish the job. He's glad he didn't need to make another trip to the store. A trip with her was better, and she somehow had just what he needed. He thinks perhaps she always has, and his vision has simply been too blurry, obscured by smudged glass, to see it.

Sasuke retrieves the stack of her letters and places them in the box gingerly so as not to further bend them. He stares at the picture for a long time before also stowing it away, sliding the container onto the shelf in the closet for safekeeping.

He doesn’t feel tired yet, and it's not too cold, so he goes to visit the memorial stone, after, as he’d planned. He feels it is the right thing to do, after having been gone so long.

He confronts many things as he sits there, the bevy of crickets and soft swishing of grass the only sounds on this quiet spring evening, a long list of engravings barely legible in the shadows.

Melancholy is one of them, seeping in slowly, as he’d known it would. Grief and acrimony and betrayal, too. A little bit of anger, still. He also experiences sillage, the aroma of his mother’s flower garden and the scent of his aunt and uncle’s baked goods and the smell of an empty house, all blending together in his olfactory senses like it was yesterday, a bitter incense of nostalgia that is hard on the inhale.

This time, though, semisweet berry and antiseptic are also among them, memory fresh in his nostrils, and he experiences a little bit of comfort, too.

Sasuke doesn’t sleep well, after, but when the nightmare comes, gruesome, and he’s awake for the remainder of the night, he has some books to help steady him until seven comes.

[hisunshiine]

Money Heist | knj | Part 1

moodboard 1 | moodboard 2 | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Kim Namjoon x Reader starring in a bank robbery au

↳ M-18+, implied sexual content, major character deaths, bank robbery actions (violence, use of weapons, deciet)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Money Heist Masterlist | Heathfritillary (author)

The Professor’s Rules

Rule #1 - No real names Rule #2 - No falling in love Rule #3 - Absolute trust Rule #4 - No games Rule #5 - Follow the plan, throughout Rule #6 - No taking lives, no civils Rule #7 - Low profile Rule #8 - Memorize the plan Rule #9 - Codes, escape routes Rule #10 - Blend

Prologue: Dread was not the right word to use to express how I felt. Every waking moment was an uncertainty. Every passing day I had to look over my shoulder. Senses on high alert, heart-pounding fiercer, I had to stay sharp. All I had to rely on was my intuition, rationality, the rush of adrenaline as it pumped through my veins as it guided me to safety.

There was no room for fuckups. Rules were set in place before, during, and after the heist. The Professor made sure of it.

Everything was methodically thought out. There was zero tolerance for anything that steered from what already was part of the Professor’s plan. Every detail was thoroughly calculated, gone through numerous times until perfected, and every possible scenario or turn the heist could go, the Professor had already considered it.

When I met him, I guessed him to be someone who was reserved. That initial thought, however, remained throughout the months I spent and got to know him. Regardless of my attempts to loosen him up, he grew more inward. A timid and quiet man, one I could not quite figure out despite my intuitive bullshit radar. My instincts told me otherwise. The Professor was someone I could trust. Moreover, he was someone who had my back if the going ever got tough.

Even after I had broken one of his sacred rules, he kept me around.

He stated it was solely because of my natural blend-ability. In other words, I was the type of person who could go unnoticed and get away with things. Although originally offended, one of the Daegu brothers – during our first meetings – mockingly pointed out my pretty privilege, claiming it was a universal thing to bend the rules and show favoritism to people that society deemed as attractive.

It bothered me to my core but despite it – and as the only woman on the team – I had to admit, I could complete missions and do things the others were not able to. Because of this, I was an asset regardless of how many rules I broke.

I was aware of it being careless, stupid even. It was not something that was planned, it was merely something that happened beyond my control. It occurred and I did not regret it one bit.

Love always seemed to happen at the least likely places. It was not a foreign concept to me, neither were relationships. In fact, I cherished everything about love and my language of expression was forever limitless.

When I was introduced to the other members the Professor carefully handpicked for the heist, I was taken aback by their charms and charisma.

They were handsome, all six of them; each with their own styles and skills to assist the Professor and his master plan. Some of them knew each other from rumors or past jobs and others did not.

I worked alone, always had and always would.  

The day the Professor recruited me, he had asked to meet him at Chateau de Foix, a castle in France. He had sneakily placed a note in my jacket as I was scouting a Chanel store intending to rob it days later. I was not sure what I was getting into but before even meeting him, he assured me with his note that he could make me wealthier than I could ever contemplate. So, I met him at Chateau de Foix.

I was interested. He caught my attention.

He did not disclose much until he was certain I was someone who he could trust. Honestly, I could not blame him. Partners were not my thing, especially partnering with a man. There was something about them that made my skin crawl. When it came to men and money, there was always one certain thing; they would fuck you over.

The Professor laid out pieces of his plan and as obscure and ambitious as it was, I kind of felt intrigued by his nerdy appearance, his hesitation to look me in the eye, how well-spoken he was and how greatly he sold his plan.

Again, he caught my attention.

Luckily, he had informed me where the next meeting would be and that I was the only woman on the team. He requested I thought it over and I did. I flew to South Korea. That was where the plan had to take place.

At first, I could not escape the futile catcalls or misogynistic remarks. The Professor was too much of a beta to control the dominant thieves who thought they knew better than most.

The worst one was the man with the effortless beauty and striking features. At first glance, he did not look Korean. GC as we called him, or Geochang County as the Professor had dubbed him. Younger brother to Daegu and quite frankly, a little too handsy for my liking and too excited to see a pair of tits on the team. So, I did what I had to ensure my survival and role as well as what I did not tolerate.

He did not appreciate the sass and the chokehold on his intimate part as I stood my ground.

Since then, no one had attempted to try my patience. In fact, all the teasing became just that, teasing … with zero malice or ill intentional comments. They were guys around me, sure, but they became mindful, more tolerable. Exactly how I preferred my men.

For months, I spent time with the six guys including the Professor as we prepared to rob the Bank of Korea. I got to know them individually and I had to admit they were starting to feel like family.

The Professor had set us up at Jindo, a remote island known for its parting sea during the spring season. He had rented a beach house and from there we listened as the Professor disclosed his plan, made the necessary preparations such as getting familiar with the bank, its routines, staff, and much more.

Busan, Seoul, and I would often get paired when a trip to the Bank of Korea was presented.

Busan was a mastermind in human behavior and expertly designed profiles of everyone that worked at the bank; from cleaners to CEOs. If you ever wondered or had questions about anyone going in and out of the bank, Busan was the man to call.

Despite his small size and soft features, he was a man who could not tolerate disadvantages. Knowledge was power he would often say especially during a heist and he would stride for perfection.

He was smart.

I did not think of making profiles for the law enforcement that would be called to deal with the hostage situation we would inevitably have to take to secure our survival. But Busan did. He knew exactly who the bank would call, their past, their marital status, the number of kids, he knew everything.

He was an asset.

Seoul, however, possessed something that completely went over my head. Technology. At first glance, I guessed him to be an assassin of some sort.

He was the quietest of the group and the hardest man to get close to. Despite his big eyes and tattoos, he was extremely fun to be around. Once he opened up, I realized my instincts about him were a tad off. Although a part of me questioned my abilities, I came to the realization that looks could be deceiving. Seoul was someone who did not open up as easily as the rest and had to assess his environment first.

I was much like him and because of this, he and I became the closest.

The technology was not my strongest suit but it was his. Every trip we made to the capital, he gained more knowledge about the bank and the software they used including hacking their system, so we could gain access to the security cameras.

The Professor was beside himself when he received the live footage of the bank. This meant we did not have to expose ourselves by making those trips to the capital but could spy on everyone from the comfort of our beach house.

I was relieved. Unlike Busan and Seoul, I had to be the one to risk everything and use my abilities and go inside the bank. The Professor had bought wigs and often I would rotate them with each trip but that did not stop my heart from beating faster than it ever had.

A thief afraid of getting caught, Busan would joke often in my earpiece but the Bank of Korea was something far greater than the high-end stores I used to steal from. It was a different level and the consequence of getting caught was larger than a meaningless brand shop.

Once the dust settled and we gathered some information, part two of the Professor’s plan could start. Breaking in the bank and taking hostages as leverage was the easiest part. Once inside, we had to establish some kind of order. The Professor would be on the outside helping the rest coordinate from within while being the voice of the heist.

I caught him blankly staring at the vision board he often used like a teacher standing in front of his class, deep in thought as his eyes wandered across the whiteboard, “Can I help?”

“No, I’m thinking.”

“Need help thinking?” I teasingly suggested the wine bottle I was drinking from.

“Once inside, what is your job?”

“The hostages with GC.”

“Why?”

I shrugged as I took a sip. The Professor ripped his gaze from the board and glared at me. He was not in the mood for my games. Something was bothering him. So, I sighed, “We both can handle a gun, GC isn’t afraid to use it. By having one of each gender there, the women will feel safer and the men won’t try anything.”

“And?”

“And we are the calm and order. Our job is to keep them quiet and put the fear of God in them.”

“And you?” he murmured as he placed his index finger on the bridge of his nose, keeping his glasses from falling, “I am sure there will be arguments and disagreements once you get inside. There’s no going around that fact. All of you have some kind of experience but most of you are hot-headed. Who will put the fear of God in you? As you eloquently said. Who?”

“Gwacheon is the oldest.” The Professor stood up after my answer. I watched him as he began to collect his things from the desk before he excused himself, “Where do you plan on going?” I asked as I followed him to the front door.

“I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He reached for his jacket and told me to trust him and take a break until he returned before leaving for an unknown mission.  

A couple of days turned into a week. The Professor was gone and some of the other guys grew agitated. Some questioned him and his plan while others, including myself, did as he had asked and took a break.

Gwacheon, the oldest and the most level-headed person on the team, was lounging by the bonfire created for the dinner he was preparing. Loyal to the Professor as I was, he went ahead and took his suggestion.

Everyone was desperate for a break. It had been months of planning and thinking of every detail. A break was welcomed, needed.

Gwacheon had planned a dinner for the team and was thrilled to have some downtime. With beers in the cooler, the sun setting beyond the horizon, and a cozy fire, he began to season the beef as he hollered for me to start the music. The Professor was on my mind. So, in honor of him, I played ‘Bella Ciao’ by Manu Pilas. He was far from home as was I and although he was not around at the moment to enjoy the festivities with us, I knew he was with us in spirit.

I tapped on Gwacheon’s broad shoulder and he shot an amused smile. The Latin vibes of the upbeat song made me dance with soju in my hand. Allowing the Spanish words to energize and elevate my mood as I poorly attempted to sing along. He laughed at my dance but could not help swing his hips along to the beat.

My eyes then caught Daegu’s as he was assembling a gun. He smiled and shot me a quick nod to sit by him.

I eyed him as he began to pick the L85 apart before placing it in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at him, he chuckled while gesturing I gave it a shot. Proclaiming it was better to be prepared for a situation rather than a situation unfolding and remaining oblivious.

From the moment I met him, I knew he was the real deal, even heard rumors about the great mastermind who stole the Hope Diamond. When questioning him in my drunken state, Daegu simply flashed me a gummy smile. I was not too sure what that meant but I was certain he was someone who was legit and that I could potentially learn a lot from. I did.

Daegu was the kind of man who kept to himself, quiet and reserved like the Professor but he did not shy away from passing down his experiences and knowledge. I often caught myself wondering how polar opposite he was from his brother, GC. Daegu struck me as someone methodical with his approach while GC was spontaneous. But as the Professor ensured, GC had something most in the team did not have; quick thinking, unique perspectives, and the kind of smarts that could never be taught.

“Go ahead,” Daegu said as GC came into view with Gwangju carrying bowls of rice, kimchi, and steamed vegetables.

I grabbed the disassembled parts and attempted to assemble them to my best capabilities. Daegu grinned and GC approached the table. He waited a moment and watched as I struggled with the parts until he groaned and grabbed the gun from me.

Swiftly, he assembled the gun while casually counting in his native tongue, “Samshipil,” he announced as he slid the gun back to me, “31 seconds.”

“That’s a record,” Daegu smiled at his brother.

“I don’t know what the Professor was on but I doubt you’ll get any hostage to take you seriously if you can’t even do that.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s a prick,” Daegu shot his brother a glare, “We have time,” he began to disassemble the gun once more, “Try again.”

I was grateful for Daegu’s patience. Although I had some knowledge of firearms, I tended not to use them during my ventures. A small pocket pistol was always in my bag and I could operate it. However, these types of guns were far from anything I had experienced, bigger too.

Luckily though, Daegu was a trained assassin and this was his specialty. He along with Gwacheon and Gwangju had pulled off heists before; together as well as separate. In other words, they were the experts on the team.

Daegu and Gwangju had a friendship like no other and had often saved each other from dire situations. They had worked multiple jobs together and relied on one another in admirable ways. For a moment, I was envious of their friendship and loyalty to each other.

Although Gwacheon had worked with them before, he often carried out small heists on his own. Much like myself, he preferred not to have a partner but made me realize that sometimes they could be useful, especially when it came to bigger jobs.

He was a lone wolf when he had to be. He told me to remember that. And I did.

I did not see the appeal. In fact, humans tend to be unreliable and oftentimes selfish. I could not trust it, anyone for that matter. It was one of the first things I learned from my father. His partner had sold him out, so he could reduce the sentence the authorities were threatening him with. Since then, I did not seek the help of others.

It was always me, myself, and I. However, the Professor managed to find a group of people whose company I actually enjoyed. Despite being thieves and some of them murderers, they were a group of men I had grown to like and trust.

Gwangju sat opposite me as I struggled with the L85. He clinked his soju bottle with mine and I grinned before giving up, “Look me in the eye as you take the first sip,” I ordered.

“Cheers,” he said and grinned, “Does that mean something where you’re from?”

“Means you’ll have bad sex if you don’t.”

“Well in that case,” he clinked his bottle with mine once more, “We don’t want that.”

He shot me a big and pearly smile before he began to assemble the gun. I studied his prominent features for a moment, admiring his natural beauty and olive skin before directing my gaze down at the heavy firearm as he explained which parts went where.

Fully focused on his words and his handle of the gun, I felt Busan’s presence behind me. He climbed between Daegu and me, “What’s up?” I asked when I caught his eyes.

“After dinner, we should get lit and go to the festival,” his suggestive demeanor forced a smile from me. Out of the six men, he was the one who actively sought my attention, persistent fucker.

He was interested in me, I could sense it. And although it would have been easy to spread my legs for him or any of the others, I was only interested in collecting my end of the robbery. Completing the heist unscathed was my sole concern and these little horny thieves were not going to stray me from my goal.

“Low profile,” Gwangju spat as my eyes were on Busan’s, “We can’t be seen together. Rule number seven.”

“Screw the Professor and his rules,” he responded without taking his eyes off mine. Busan studied my features as my gaze shifted from his plump lips to his dark eyes, “Besides, we deserve a little fun,” he directed his attention to Gwangju, “What the Professor doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“He did say we were on a break until he got back.”

“Do not encourage him, London,” Gwangju warned after finishing the assembly of the gun.

“A little fun didn’t hurt anyone,” Busan voiced as his fingertips caressed my bare shoulder.

“Careful there, brother,” GC sat beside Gwangju with soju in hand, “You do not want her claws piercing your ballsack.”

“London wouldn’t be that mean to me,” Busan’s eyes wandered between mine and then my lips as he leaned closer, “Would you?”

I felt the hot air from his parted lip brush against mine and I could not help but meet him halfway. With a cocky smirk, I reached down for his clothed manhood, digging my sharp nails in the jean fabric he wore as a sudden groan escaped him, “Don’t get too comfortable, kiddo,” I whispered against his mouth as he hissed and cursed under his breath.

“Told you,” GC grinned, and soon after the rest began to laugh at Busan’s failed attempt.

➰

Busan convinced GC and Seoul to join him at the spring festival. Every year on the day of the parting sea, locals would celebrate the event by throwing a massive street party. The island was known for its festivities and attracted a lot of tourists. I could not visit South Korea and not experience what Jindo had to offer. So, I went, and as reluctant as Gwangju was, he joined us as well until Gwacheon decided to make it a family affair and convinced Daegu to join the outing too.

South Korea had always been a country I wanted to visit. It was known for its rich culture, delicious food, and its kind people. So far, I enjoyed everything I had experienced.

Despite the intention of the visit, I was grateful to be here and be amongst native men who could guide me and translate if needed. Sadly, one of the Professor’s rules was to blend as much as we could and not draw any attention to ourselves. Knowing him and the stick up his butt, he would not have been too pleased to know that we were lounging with the locals, getting drunk until late, and essentially making a mockery of his rule system.

Close to midnight, Daegu wanted to head back to the beach house and he did along with me and Seoul who had to prepare to monitor the bank in the morning. He was close to hacking into the internal security system, the one that allowed us to view everything on the inside.

Freshly out of the shower, the house was painfully quiet with most of the others still enjoying the festivities. I danced around with a pair of headsets blasting music in my ears, enjoying the alcohol that roamed in my system as I shimmied into my undergarments. ‘All That’ by Emotional Oranges came on and I sang along as I smeared lotion on my body. Soon the music captivated every inch of my body and I began to dance when suddenly I caught a glimpse of a man watching me by the door.

A loud gasp came out of me, but as startled as I was, my body knowingly eased, assessing the situation as I stared down the stranger without showcasing any fear. I had not seen him before and I wondered how he had gotten inside of the beach house.

Seoul had explicitly explained that the place was safely secured.

The man leaned against the doorframe as a small sigh evaded his plump lips while he unapologetically allowed his gaze to travel down my body, “The Professor didn’t say anything about a woman being on the team.”

“The Professor?”

He eyed me momentarily, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m Ilsan. What’s your assigned city?”

“London.” I nodded as the realization came over me. He was what the Professor was searching for. He was the mission he had mentioned; the team’s leader and the one to instill the fear of God in us.

Just then did it occur to me that Ilsan had to be someone the Professor trusted completely. He was almost obsessively calculated with everything about the heist. For our safety and his own. Everything had to be planned. And he was right. We were hot-headed, argued, and disagreed many times. Everyone had their own styles but for the heist to be successful, it required that we all moved as a team. The Professor knew this, knew once we were inside, he was limited in terms of guidance. Although communication would be out of the question, he needed someone on the inside that would make sure the proper steps would be taken.

I eyed Ilsan and sensed why the Professor had chosen him. He had an authoritative aura. I was sure he was the kind of man who inserted his dominance well. The Professor was a beta but based on first impressions, Ilsan struck me as someone who did not mind and preferred - despite the pressure and responsibility - to be the top alpha of the team.

“London,” he sang, “That's a pretty name. I have been there. Wet country.” I attempted to hold back the appearing smile that the comment accurately described about my home city, “Did you choose it or did the Profess--”

“You got your sneak peek,” I hastily voiced, not interested in his small talk and especially with lack of clothes on, “Fuck off. I’m getting ready for bed.”

He chuckled into a low hum as he crossed his arms, resting his head against the doorframe, “You usually have a party before bed?” I caught a glance of his smirk and the dimples that came along with it. He was a flirt, much like Busan, and I was not having it. Ilsan did not know that I was someone not to be messed with. But he would soon. I walked over to the door and shoved him backward by his chest before slamming the door in his face.

↣ all rights reserved © heathfritillary 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed. 

[arhvste]

OIKAWA TOORU - RECKLESS

summary - the high pressure and expectations of your overbearing parents for yourself and oikawa finally become too much for the two of you to handle, your solution? to run away from it all

this is for @totorosleaff​ thank you for always working so hard and doing your best in everything you do, i’m always so proud of you and always will be 💖💗💕💘💞

pls ignore any spelling mistakes i’ll check them later okay 😌

warnings - minimal cursing

-

sighing for what felt like the 100th time that night, you mindlessly swirled the pale golden liquid in the gold rimmed champagne glass as you stared aimlessly across the room. 

galas.

 the bane of your existence.

-

being the daughter of such high status parents shouldn’t have seemed like a big deal to anyone. growing up, you thought you’d be free to control your own life, own decisions and they’d leave you out of their own business. unfortunately from a young age that assumed freedom was snatched from your grasp and your parents instantly took you under their wing and expected you to play the part of the daughter as they wanted.

a puppet pulled by their strings.

the only decision you found yourself somewhat thankful for was your future husband for the arranged marriage they’d contracted you into.

at first you were furious. they’d already taken so much from you and now they wanted to take the freedom of who you’d spend the rest of your life with? you were livid but forced yourself to conceal the ignited fury inside of you to prevent any out of proportion drama you knew your parents would cause if you were to even try and object.

you first met oikawa tooru a year ago in the spring. 

his parents seemed nice enough but you could tell they were putting up a similar façade to what your own parents would put up when meeting people outside your household.

oikawa didn't seem particularly thrilled about the arrangement but he was polite and welcoming to you regardless and managed to get on with it as his parents had told him too.

your future husband confused you. how could he act like he was okay with the whole deal so well? was he not angry? upset? he’d just been told he’s to marry a stranger with no option to protest. surely he must feel some sort of way about the whole deal.

your curiosity about the boy grew as you got to know him.

5 months later and his act slowly but surely began to falter. he didn't force himself to smile as much, he grew evidently more tired, he began to talk less around his parents.

it was one afternoon the two of you were sat in one of the gardens in your own exaggerated and over extravagent house the two of you casually chatted as you watched the koi fish glide through the pond.

you studied the boy as he spoke to you. before you had gotten to know oikawa for what sort of person he was, you couldn't deny the fact he was ridiculously attractive. his hair a pretty mop of brown locks gently swaying about every time he moved his head, his broad shoulders and strong build proved how seriously he took his fitness, his tall frame towering over many others who’d find themselves looking up at him. he had warm but intense eyes that you could compare to pools of honey when the sunlight his his face at certain angles and of course his smile. forced or not, you found comfort in his smile. it was almost reassuring that everything was okay. 

oikawa was in the midst of telling you something about his professional team whom he played for when his family business weren’t so demanding.

you were listening you swear you was, but the intruding thoughts about the whole situation about being married to the boy grew louder and louder until you couldn't hear oikawa’s soft silky voice.

“don’t you hate it?”

you cut him off staring at him wide eyed. he turned to face you and tilted his head out of wonder.

“what do you mean? volleyball? no i don't hate it i-”

“-no, no. i mean, this whole thing, don't you just - hate it?”

oikawa was stunned. nobody had ever really asked for his opinion before. sure he had some but he was never really given the choice to voice them.

“i mean, it’s what my parents want so...”

his voice barely above a whisper as you slightly frowned.

“i don't care what your parents want. i’m asking if you, oikawa tooru, feel any type of way about this situation because i know i do.”

the boy thought before speaking. it had been so long since he’d felt like he’d been given the chance to talk freely he didn't want to get his words all tangled and miss the opportunity.

“i did. i really did for a while. i didn't know anything about you. even when we first met i didn't like the situation.”

you nodded encouraging to keep going.

“but then, i got to know you. i discovered that you’re not someone who feeds off their parents wealth, you’re not someone who’s happy to play their puppet for the rest of your life, you’re not selfish and expecting of anyone, you made it bearable for me and that's why, that's why i feel more okay with everything now.”

he breathed out a sigh of relief. the thoughts that had been weighing on him for a long time finally set free out into the open.

“it’s the same for me. i didn't care about you at first. to me, you were just another obstacle in the way of me being able to escape the grasp of my parents. for months i wondered if you ever felt bothered by the arrangement because you never made it look like you did. i noticed though. i saw through your act. i knew you weren't happy, at least not for a while.”

the two of you stayed there like that for a while. neither of you felt the need to speak. the tension finally cleared and the now comfortable silence between the two of you showed that everything that needed to be said had been so. 

from that day on, you and oikawa were more reliant and open with each other. you found yourselves more trusting towards each other and decided that even if the inevitable situation held you both captive, you at least had each other to try and make the best out of it.

-

back to the present day of the never ending gala your parents had thrown, the weight of their overbearing tendencies never once lifted. sure, you and oikawa felt more comfortable together and yes, you felt like marrying the boy was going to be easier now. that didn't change the fact that you were both still puppets for your parents to play with as they pleased.

over a year had passed and the relationship between yourself and oikawa had grown and blossomed. it felt easier being a couple and you felt warm and safe with the boy and he had felt the same but, the fact that you two had to meet under forced circumstances and had a time limit to get to know each other still didn't sit right with the pair of you.

had you of met in a different environment things may have been different. you could've nurtured and embraced the millions of butteries you felt when you were together, your love could've grown so naturally and so beautifully. 

as always the opportunity was snatched, your love was forced to grow under intense expectations and while you had managed to eventually catch feelings for each other, this wasn't initially initiated through your own choices.

still, staring blankly across the decorated ballroom you felt two hands lightly ghost over your exposed shoulders. shivering you looked up to see the handsome face of your arranged fiancé who looked down at you with a small smile.

taking a seat next to you, he ran his hand through his messy brown strands and leaned towards you.

“getting a bit tired aren't you?” he whispered as he took his other hand into your own and laced his fingers through yours.

“mhm” you couldn't even bring yourself to speak actual words. the night had worn you out. talking to countless people who you couldn't say you cared about and being dragged about by your parents who’d introduced and bragged about you like you were some sort of trophy to their own acquaintances had really taken the toll on your body as you could feel yourself shutting down as the night dragged on.

oikawa hummed and moved a piece of hair that had fallen to your face behind you ear before leaning in again. 

“just a few more hours okay? then i’ll take you up to your room and help you get ready for bed.”

“so considerate of you.” you teased with a lazy smile.

“what sort of future husband would i be if i didn't?”

“a shit one.”

he laughed and squeezed your hand as you both sat up right as your parents approached.

a cold glare on your mothers face and a stern one painting your fathers.

“why are you two sat here when there are guests to be entertained?” your mothers voice sharply cut through the comfortable moment you and oikawa had just shared.

“what would oikawa’s parents think if they saw their future daughter-in-law just slouched over a table ignoring guests?” 

you grit your teeth and looked up at the couple before you.

“i apologise. i’ll go see to them now.”

“don't bother. you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough.”

“-but”

“shut up would you. your father and i give you everything and you’re selfish enough to not even put effort in when we ask. everyone here is seeing what a brat you are. just sat here ignoring them like you’re of a higher status. who do you think you are.”

your mother’s words had always been harsh. throughout the years your impression of what a mother should be like had been warped and corrupted in all the wrongs ways. all the fairy tales which included a healthy and wholesome mother-daughter pair in had been shattered by your own mother’s approach to taking care of you. you were often left in the care of nannies who would try their best to nurture you in the way your mother was supposed to, but it didn't feel the same not receiving this type of affection from the woman who had given birth to you herself.

you tried your best to ignore her like you usually did, but oikawa gently squeezing your hand out of concern brought you out of your closed state of mind and your obedient act had been shattered.

“you know what? i’m done. i’m done!” you could almost laugh? were you going insane? perhaps. that outcome could be totally possible after the years of being forced to play a role you never asked for.

“excuse me?” your fathers voice snapped this time as his arms folded over his chest.

oikawa looked almost frighted for you for a split second. what the hell were you doing?

“you heard me. i’m done. this is too much i can’t do it anymore.”

“y/n l/n, you listen to me. you’re going to stand up and entertain your guests and you’re going to be polite and welcoming right now? you got that?”

that was it. 

“no. i won't be doing that and you know why? they aren't my guests. they’re yours. i don't care about them or whatever they’ve got to say. i hate it here, i always have i can’t do this anymore.” your voice sharp catching the attention of a few onlookers who were near the four of you.

“y/n, lets just go.” oikawa quietly pleaded not wanting any harm to come to you. you appreciated him, you really did but you knew he’d just want to leave peacefully without causing commotion and right now you wanted the opposite.

“you know what? yeah lets go and never come back. go find a new puppet to play with cause i’m cutting my strings off now.”

your parents stared at you wide eyed. you had never spoken back with such venom before this was new to them.

your father turned to oikawa who now had an intense look on his face.

“do something to control your woman.”

oikawa was usually good at handling tough situations. when it came down to it, he was mature, calm and collected but right now he felt anything but that. his woman huh? just like that a vicious anger lit up inside of him and he pulled you up and wrapped an arm around your waist. the sound of two chairs quickly flinging back caught more attention from even more onlookers now but he couldn't care less.

“excuse you? my woman? with all due respect mr l/n, your daughter is her own woman and i think you’ll find i’m more than happy to let her do as she pleases as she has every right to.”

your heart stopped as your lovers voice silenced your parents. all eyes on the four of you now the conversation that should've happened a long time ago now taking place in front of an audience.

“i see now. maybe you were the wrong choice for my daughter. your parents must be so let down. we liked you at first, a suitable choice to take responsibility for our daughter and her future but i guess not. you’ve deceived us and we’ll be looking to rearrange the contract between you both if you keep this behaviour up.”

oikawa scowled at your parents as he gripped your hand tightly.

“don’t bother, i’m marrying your daughter just like yourself and my own parents wanted but on our own terms. you won’t be attending the wedding. you won’t be there to congratulate us and we won't be expecting any involvement financially from either of you anymore. y/n doesn't deserve any of this. i’ve watched for long enough i refuse to let her be forced to put up with such stupid rules and regulations.”

tears began to pool in your eyes as you watched oikawa stand up for himself finally. he had always been so compliant despite his distaste for certain instructions and situations he was put in. the act you’d seen past months ago, finally dropping in front of everyone to see and you were damn proud of him.

“come on y/n.”

that’s all the convincing it took for you to allow oikawa to pull you away from the scene as the two of you dashed out the crowded room. one hand tightly gripping oikawa’s warm one and the other tightly holding the hem of your stupidly long dress. the doors to the large gathering flew open as oikawa pulled you out of the situation altogether. your dress fluttering about as the wind caught the long fabric, as oikawa broke out into smile as the two of you ran through the halls to find the exit.

behind you, your parents screeches of your names could be heard as they beckoned you to come back immediately. you didn't care though. how could you go back now anyway the damage had been done and you couldn't be happier.

a smile broke out onto your own face as you began to laugh carelessly for the first time in what felt like forever. oikawa glancing down at you, a big genuine smile gracing his own face as he found his own laughter join yours. the situation would've been anything but laughable to anyone else but to you and oikawa, this was the best thing to have happened to the pair of you and neither of you had felt so alive in years.

finally approaching the large doors to exit, your fiancé forced the doors open and grabbed his car keys out of one of the pockets of his now slightly crumpled suit. immediately spotting his luxury car he unlocked it and quickly helped you inside as he threw himself into the drivers seat as the two of you panted heavily.

you turned to smile at him as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before he started the engine. your parents running out the house screaming for the two of you to halt had oikawa hitting the accelerator so quickly your parents stood no chance of catching up to the two of you.

you both sat there in silence for a few moments allowing yourselves to catch your breath and gather your thoughts over what had just happened. one hand gripping the wheel and the other placed on your thigh he gave it a light squeeze before turning to you.

“we’re gonna be fine.” 

and just like that all your worries had disintegrated thanks to his small reassuring words.

you two had no idea where you were going or what you were going to do now but you had each other and that's all that mattered. 

you and oikawa had met so abruptly and forcibly that it ruined any chance of you being able to build the love you always wanted to develop gradually but, after getting to know him and seeing he did in fact feel the same way, you both knew that while you two hadn't met under circumstances which you’d prefer, you met by fate and that fate had given you the gift of a love so unique and so mismatched that you didn't even care anymore.

your love with oikawa was reckless but that’s what made it your own. 

[sabineelectricheart]

Commercial Holiday

Summary: Yosuga discovers the joys of a lazy day with his wife.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Having “Hades”s birthday on Halloween seems a bit uncreative to me, but...

A lazy morning in bed with Yosuga of the Purple was rare. So very rare, indeed, that it was virtually unheard of. The man himself is taken to believe that this is the first time he has done such a thing with a woman.

His bathhouse opens at nine, seven days a week. For that to happen, preparations must start before sunrise. Between starting the boiler, checking on Camelia to make sure her springs were charged enough to last most of the day, prepare the herbs for the regulars and cleaning up the tubs from the night before, it all took a long time, regardless of how many hands he employed.

Contrary to the shops in the surface, where owners and managers rarely involved themselves in the meat of their businesses, Yosuga made a point out of dirtying his own hands as often as possible. He wanted to make sure that his high standards of quality were being followed to the letter, and he was quite jealous of the secrets he accumulated over the years, both relating to his herbalism and the society intrigue that went about on his fine establishment.

Besides, he was often plagued with insomnia, so it would be a better use to the anxious energy within him into his work, rather than turn around in the sheets between bouts of terrible nightmares.

These days, however, have not been as easy to get up early and work, and he certainly longed for a day off. He had found that there was a lot of joy in skirting responsibilities when it came to be next to his darling wife, especially whe she was free herself.

When the door to their chambers opened once more, Olympia sat up, drawing the covers up over her naked chest. She was still unused to sleep in the nude, as ever since she arrived in Tenguu Island, she has been firmly taught to keep her modesty at all times.

This lesson stuck in uneven ways, honestly, but a single girl’s conception of acceptable modesty was much different than a married woman’s. It has been a bit of an adaptation to transition between them.

Besides, Yosuga wanted to seize the rare night they spent together on that bed in a certain fashion, and she wholeheartedly indulged him. Her body must be smelling of sweat and her hair, while white already, should likely state to these activities.

Fortunately for her demure disposition, the intruder had been Camelia, who picked up a pouch of herbs and soon disappeared back through where she came from.

As Olympia looks beside her, there her husband lay, awake but peaceful and undisturbed. It was surprising, since she almost never sees him in bed even when she sleeps with him.

“Yosuga? What time is it?” She asked, already making to slip out of bed. “Have you overslept today?”

“It is a quarter past nine, and no, I am not late to anything.” The purple-haired man responded, wrapping his arm around her waist and gently pulling her back. “It is Sunday and we are all tired. I have declared this to be a holiday and I shan’t move from this bed for anything less of a life and death situation. I beseech you to do the same.”

She was silent for a moment, leaning back on her elbows. The declaration from her husband that he would remain in bed for the day went straight through her sleep-ridden mind. However, she soon considered it once again, and the way he put it made her want to laugh. Nevertheless, she is very glad that they would spend the day together, regardless of the activities they would be doing.

Yosuga, in turn, admired the woman of the White with loving care. In all truth, she looked angelic, even when unkempt, as it gave her a natural look, as if she was a spontaneous manifestation of the will of the gods. Her white hair is tousled and haloed around her shoulders, her pink eyes are slightly glassy with sleep, her lips are still a little swollen from the night before.

“When you put it like that, I cannot help but comply.” She said coyly, tilting her head to the side.

The herbalist sighed, and the corners of his lips twitched with a fond smile.

“Don’t mock me, wife.” He said, slipping under the covers with her in only his small clothes.

Olympia sighed contently, directing his arms around her waist and wriggling backwards into him. She yawned softly, resting against his broad chest. Yosuga let his eyes slip shut, his face buried in her hair as he allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation.

After the death of his family and Colour, after his harsh sentence imposed by Lord Akon, he thought he would never be allowed to love anyone. Byakuya was not only his soulmate, but she saved him from a lonely existence that, while he grew accustomed to and even appreciate it, it was still just that.

She turned around in his arms, looking up at him, trailing her fingertips over his arms.

“I wish we could stay in this bed forever.” She mumbled, still half-asleep.

The woman felt his chest rumble with a suppressed chuckle.

“I would certainly wear you out too quickly, Byakuya, trying to put a child in your belly...” He responded.

She gasped, hiding her face.

“Do not act like a demure little lady. You certainly did not last night.” He teased, squeezing her hip.

“Sometimes I find myself not liking you very much, Yosuga of the Purple.” She pouted.

The pharmacist smirked, kissing the top of her forehead.

“You and I both know that is not true, Olympia of the White.” He murmured in her ear, making his wife shiver. “Now, go back to sleep.”

When Camelia returned at noon, carrying a lunch tray for her master, she found them both sleeping in each other’s arms. She found fascinating to learn what people did in their said days off.

*_*_*_*_*

Olympia Soirée Masterlist

[crash-cinematic-universe]

A Speedster, A Nuclear Bomb, and a Worn Down Walkman (Ch.1)

pairing: peter maximoff/fem!Wilson!reader

summary:  Y/n Wilson is the only child of the renowned X-Man Deadpool. When Y/n is asked to enroll in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters by Charles Xavier himself, she has no choice but to accept; much to the dismay of her father. Y/n isn’t used to the knew surroundings or the constant stress of her mutation. All she wanted to do was disappear. Little did Y/n know, she caught the eyes of a certain speedster who wasn’t planning on letting her fade away anytime soon.

req:  Hey, I was wondering if you could write something about dating peter maximoff and being deadpools kid - @8-eight-8

warnings: none, rlly

notes: FUCK YEAH!!! IM BACK TO WRITING THIS SERIES BABEY. sorry this took so long, i swear it wont take this long next time. also 2.5k words to make up for it hell yeah!

PREVIOUS: prologue 

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @wallows-spring

            Saying that life at the academy was hectic would be a severe understatement; your first few days were filled to the brim with endless placement assessments and class work and first impressions. It was as if you were meeting every person at once, each new smiling face and unique name immediately leaving your brain after mere seconds of talking. It was overwhelming and chaotic and at one point you felt as if you had begun to spiral in the first week-- worst of all, you were beginning to miss your father. However, there was one person who stuck in your mind like a fly to a gluetrap-- Peter Maximoff. 

            Peter was made of pure adrenaline, constantly on the move at high speeds as if he would cease to exist if he were to stand still. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to land himself right next to you anywhere you went. You’re not exactly complaining, though, you quite like having Peter around. He’s like your anchor, a person you can lean on when everyone and everything becomes too much-- not to mention Peter’s physical appearance. His features were refined and smooth, as if he was carved from marble by Michelangelo himself. He always had a grin on his face, his eyes lighting up like Fourth of July fireworks that you just can’t look away from. 

            Similarly, Peter was still having trouble processing… you. You were like an ethereal being, an inhuman gracefulness and beauty following you everywhere you went. You brightened up rooms, your laugh could make the saddest person feel uplifted, your eyes were abyss-like pools that made Peter feel fuzzy whenever they locked with him. Peter couldn’t stay away from you if he tried-- you were magnetic, an invisible force pulling him closer and closer until he got close enough to smell the shampoo you use. Everything about you was amazing and perfect and pristine to him-- he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t have a crush on you. Unfortunately for Peter, you were completely and totally out of  his league. In fact, you were so out of his league that the mere thought of you liking him seemed about as realistic as a fever dream. For now, Peter was content with being your friend.

            Meanwhile, Charles was attempting to settle on one of the hardest dilemmas of his lifetime. Originally, Charles had invited you to the academy to attempt to control your mutation. Hank had run various tests to get an idea of exactly how strong you’d become, and the results were shocking. Long story short, both Charles and Hank had come to the conclusion that you were a ticking time bomb. With every day that passes your manipulation of energy expands, reigning in more and more force by the second. The process is gradual and slow, but with time, you would lose your ability to contain the energy. Keeping you in the academy would be your only chance at stopping your inevitable destination, but that would also put the rest of the students at risk. Then again, you were useful; having you on the X-Men team would help save so many people. For the first time in what felt like years, Charles didn’t know what to do. 

            “Hank,” The British man called. “If you were the equivalent to a timed explosive, would you… would you want to know?”

            “I’m sorry?” Hank’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

            “I just… I’m not sure if I should tell Y/n about her… situation.” Hank nods in understanding before inhaling deeply.

            “Charles, she’s only been here a few days. She’s barely settled in-- give her time to… warm up to the place.” Hank replies. That doesn’t help Charles’s situation.

            “And after that? After she’s settled in?” Hank sighs. He’s not sure what to do either-- all Hank really knows is that he wants whatever's best for you. Hank had come to enjoy your presence through the last few days. You were kind and paid attention to Hank and his interests. It was refreshing-- Hank wasn’t used to having some be genuinely impressed by his work.

            “You have to tell her eventually, Charles. You’re only hurting her by hiding it.” Charles groans and leans back in his chair. He was truly dreading this conversation-- he had no doubt in his mind that you’d want what’s best for the other students; Wade mentioned that you had a habit of putting others' needs and feelings before your own.

            “Thank you, Hank. That’ll be all.” He waves the other man out of the room, allowing himself to be left to his own thoughts. Charles’s head ached as he glanced at the report Hank had written on you, one specific observation jumping out at the distressed man: “Y/n Wilson is as much an evolutionary breakthrough as she is a safety hazard-- she must learn to contain her power; if she’s successful, she’ll be one of the most powerful mutants ever recorded. If she fails-- if we fail, the consequences will be as catastrophic and destructive as a nuclear explosive. Proceed with caution.”

______________

            The sound of confused giggles and hurried footsteps echo through the hallway as Peter gently tugs you along, turning to glance at you every now and then. Peter knew you were having trouble getting comfortable with the other students, and he was determined to change that. He had a small group of friends that were eager to meet you-- Peter managed to bring you up in every conversation he’s had with anyone in the past week.

            “Peter, where are we going?” You question as Peter turns around a corner. He just shoots a smile back at you before quickly pulling you into his bedroom-- a bunch of students sitting in various places on the floor. You can recognize a few faces from the hallways, but other than that they’re mostly strangers. Except for one-- I can recognize Kurt from the library.

            “Alright, so, uh, I thought that maybe you’d want to meet some of my friends. Just to-- uhm-- just to get more used to some of the people here.” Peter’s stomach flutters as you grin at him.

            “You did this for me?” Peter nodded before your attention was quickly drawn away from him and to the people around the room. Peter is quick to introduce you to all his friends.

            “Uh, Kurt, Jubilee, Scott, Jean, Ororo, this is Y/n,” A blue teenager materializes in front of me almost instantly. 

            “We met already but it is nice to meet you again,” He grins a toothy grin, his hand extending to shake mine. I’m soon met by a boy wearing odd goggles, presumably Scott, then Jubilee, then Ororo, then finally, Jean. They were all friendly and unique and oddly comforting in a way, regardless of the fact that they were all a full decade younger than you and Peter. 

            “What’s the best way to get to know someone?” Scott asks, glancing at Jubilee. She smirks back at him.

            “In all 16 years of living, I’ve come to learn that the single best way to get to know someone's personality is via the ancient practice of Truth or Dare.” She grins wildly.

            “Oh, uh, I don’t know if--” You can hear Peter inhale sharply as Scott pulls him onto the floor, the other students following suit and soon forming a circle on the floor. Jubilee tugs you down by your sleeve.

            “Alright, who’s first?” Jean quips. Everyone exchanges a look before settling on Peter.

            “Oh, uhm… Kurt, truth or dare?” Everyone seems to be disappointed by Peter’s selection, but they continue nevertheless.

            “Truth.” Peter bites his lip while he attempts to think of a question to ask, and you can’t help but stare. The silver speedster is undeniably cute-- you’ll willfully admit that any day. “Out of everyone here, who do you think is the smartest?”

            “Well, both you and Y/n are much older than ze rest of us, so it’s one von of you two-- sorry Jean, zey just have more experience. Uh, I guess Y/n since I vonce saw Peter try to catch a bird with his bare hands.” You laugh out loud at this new discovery and Peter’s face burns a light red. 

            “Alright, Kurt, it’s your turn.” Jean says. The blue boy scans the crowd before choosing the next victim. 

            “Y/n, truth or dare?” All eyes turned to you expectantly. You were never a coward, so you took the most logical route.

            “Dare.” The entire group jitters with excitement, anticipation for what odd things Kurt would make you do circulating in the air.

            “I dare you… to hold hands with Peter for ze rest of ze game.” Scott and Jean both huff in disappointment as Jubilee and Ororo gaze at Kurt with such fury it was as if they were trying to kill him. This dare was odd, sure, but you weren’t one to back down.

            “Easy peasy,” You quip as you hold out your hand for Peter to take. He laces your fingers with yours and immediately your entire arm feels as if it had just been jostled awake. The feeling of Peter’s hand in yours is foreign, but incredibly welcome. His hands are warm. 

            “My turn, right?” You ask, trying to forget the fact that Peter’s hand is entangled with yours. “Jubilee, truth or dare?” 

            “Truth, and make it good.” She grins. 

            “Whose mutation do you think is the least useful out of everyone in this circle?” Jubilee glances around the circle.

            “Depends. I don’t know what yours is,” she trails off for a moment. “And I don’t wanna be mean…”

            “My mutation is energy manipulation-- I can control the energy that’s constantly being produced.” Peter’s grip on your hand tightens a bit as Jube’s eyes widen. 

            “Okay, that’s fucking awesome so definitely not yours,” she exclaims. “Kurt and Peter are useful in combat, Jean is useful in getting information, Ororo and Scott are both super powerful-- I think my mutation is the least useful.”

            “Don’t say that, Jubilee,” Scott says from across the circle. “You’re useful sometimes.” Jean cringes at his words and both Jubilee and Kurt laugh aloud. Scott seems unaware of his mistake. 

            “Thanks, Scott,” The young girl said before returning to the game. “Alright, my turn again? Ororo, truth or dare?”

            “Dare,” Ororo smirks. She’s quite pretty, her hair looked soft and shimmery-- not dissimilar to Peter’s. 

            “I dare you to knock the power out of the entire mansion for a full five minutes.” Ororo complies, a large clap of thunder echoing through the mansion as the room goes dark. Ororo had created a large thunderstorm to cover for the power outage, lightning and rain wailing down on the windows. Peter grips your hand tightly, his muscles tensing as he shuts his eyes for a moment. The other students are consumed by their chatter and laughter in the darkness.

            “Hey, you okay?” You ask softly. Peter is jumpy and nervous, but he doesn’t want to seem cowardly in front of you. 

            “Y-yeah, I’m just not the b-biggest fan of thunderstorms,” You can tell he’s trying to act tough. Gently, you run your thumb over his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down.

            “Don’t worry, silver, the storm will pass. For now, I can distract you if you’d like me to,” You offer. Peter looks at you for a moment, and his heart skips a beat. You’re kind and sweet and selfless, you’re considerate and caring and wonderful and Peter is in awe of you. 

            “A distraction would be nice.” Peter said quietly, wincing at the weakness in his voice. He was almost 30 years old, one of the oldest among the group in the room and he was cowering because of a little thunder. He felt ashamed and small-- it really was no shocker that you were out of his league. However, when you flipped his hand over and began tracing shapes on his palm with your finger, all of his worries melted away for a moment. 

            After a while, Ororo switched the lights back on and dispersed the storm outside, the group  of teens returning to the antics almost instantaneously. You pulled your hands away from Peter reluctantly.

            “Well, uh, I better get going-- I have some work to do.” You say as you stand up. “It was lovely to meet all of you, this game was pretty fun. I’ll see you around.” You can hear Peter scramble behind you, quickly following you out of the room as if he were a lost puppy. You walked in silence for a while, Peter’s strides in sync with yours as you made your way to your bedroom. You admired the detailed architecture along the walls as you walked, various small symbols were scattered across the wallpaper. You didn’t realize you’d reached your bedroom until you were standing face-to-face with the door.

            “Thank you.” Peter says, his voice low and raspy. He’s not looking at you, his eyes glued to the floor.

            “For what?” The shameful feelings returned as Peter kept his eyes on the floor. He feels like a baby-- a whiny baby who gets afraid during thunderstorms and has trouble articulating his thoughts and feelings. It made him so frustrated when he couldn’t find the words to say what needed to be said-- his mind just moved too fast to grip onto any coherent thoughts. When he glanced into your eyes, he managed to get something out.

            “It’s just that I know a lot of people who would make fun of me for being as old as I am and so easily scared.” You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. Peter didn’t want you to pity him, but at this point he just needed to express his gratitude. “Thank you for… not being one of those people.” You took his face gently in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

            “Anytime, Maximoff. Anytime.” You smiled before opening your bedroom door and stepping inside. The first thing you notice is that the books on your desk have been knocked over. Then, you realize that there was someone standing behind you.

            You yelp, whipping around and shooting out a blast of energy. You didn’t even expel that much force, but the figure is launched into the wall. It’s only then that you realize this figure was actually your father.

            “Dad? What the fuck are you doing here?!” You shout as you rush to help him off the floor.

            “What, I need a reason to come see my daughter?” He jokes as he pops his arm back into its socket. He looks worried, but he masks it with a smile. “It just happens that Charles wanted to see me the same day I came to visit you.”

            “Charles wants to see you? Why?” You ask as Wade pulls you into a hug. A cough from the doorway startles you apart, and a very anxious looking Hank is standing in the doorway.

            “Looks like we’re about to find out,”

[radbeetle]

|Call to Arms|

wow these screenshots are so old. do you know why i’ve been sitting on them for so long? because i wanted to finish the writing about this mission before I posted them

AND I DID. Check it out on AO3 or under the readmore.

“These robots were assaulted by institute synths.”

Katherine scrunched up her face and shielded her eyes as she looked up at Danse , who insisted on keeping his headlamp on.

“Um, sorry, I - I gotta ask… what are… synths?” and what’s the institute, for that matter, she thought to herself, but one question at a time.

“Technological abominations created by the institute, and let loose to run rampant throughout the commonwealth.” Danse’s voice was heavy with disgust, even through the buzzy modulation of his power armor.

“Danse. That’s… I get that you don’t like them, but what are they?” Katherine pleaded. “Just… in simple terms? Please?”

He scoffed. “I would have thought you familiar with them. Most in the Commonwealth seem to be.”

Katherine deflated, shoulders sinking. “Well… just… I’m out of the loop. Let’s leave it at that.”

The blank stare of the T-60’s helmet concealed Danse’s puzzlement. Regardless, he provided explanation. “Robots, built in the shape of man. A mannequin brought to life by machinery. They’re a mockery of humankind at best, and a blight upon this world at worst.”

Katherine bit her tongue, and suppressed her curiosity. As much as she wanted to know more, it was obvious Danse was biased. “I guess things have come a long way from the Mr. Handy, huh.” There was still a little bit of awe in her voice - she very much wanted to see these synths. Truly humanoid robots had always been a lofty goal of the industry… she had heard of RobCo’s Assaultrons, but they were still miles away.

Danse scoffed. “Unfortunately. Keep your eyes open as we move deeper into the facility. It’s highly likely that the Institute’s forces still have a presence here.” The paladin was already moving on, and Katherine was quick to follow.

“Mmm-hmm.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Part of her was brimming with curiosity about these synths… and part of her knew that if they could take down those protectrons, they could take down her.

“This place has really been trashed, huh? What do you think it was like back in the day?”

“Filled with men making poor decisions, I’m certain.”

Katherine pressed her lips. So much for small talk. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the hallways opened up into another room. Two dust coated windows framed a sliding door, which Danse was quick to investigate.

“This is the way forwards, but it seems to be locked tight. There’s no apparent way to open it from here.”

Katherine straightened up, and holstered her 10mm. “Oh, if there’s no visible controls on the door, they’re likely wired into a local terminal. It’s technically required for them have a way to bypass the lock through the hardware, in case of emergency, but they never make it easy. Security stuff. Uh…” she trailed off for a moment, glancing around the room. There were a few desks still standing on the opposite wall, terminals still intact. “Um, give me a moment.” She kicked a toppled chair away from the desk, and bent over the keyboard. “Mmm, this one’s still logged in. I guess there’s not really time to properly disconnect from your workstation when they’re bombing the city.” she muttered as she scrolled through the inbox.

“Any luck over there?” Danse inquired.

“I’ve got access to the internal mail system, uh, lots of reminders about security protocols and - ah-heh. Automated password change reminder. Looks like it’s for the lab access?” Katherine had a gnawing feeling in her gut that she was over-explaining things. Surely the paladin didn’t care about the specifics.

“That’s where we’re headed.”

“Great, yeah, uh.” She scanned the room again and scampered to the other still functional terminal. “Let’s hope…” she trailed off.

Danse took a few steps away from the laboratory door, turning to watch Katherine with mild curiosity, hidden behind the power armor helmet. She seemed quite at home amongst the terminals and technology. An unusual trait, compared to most of the wastelanders he met. Though he was initially skeptical of her claim to being a Vault Dweller - the Brotherhood had no record of a Vault 111, after all - he wondered if perhaps there was some truth to her statement.

“Hey!” Kate’s head popped up over the top of the terminal. “Got it.”

“Excellent. Let’s not waste any more time. If you could open the door?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” A swift keystroke and the door opened with the whnk-hsss of pneumatics.

Paladin Danse formed around, set once again to lead the way onward, through the facility - but the incandescent blue laser bolt that buzzed his power armor brought those plans to a standstill.

“Hostile detected.” The matter-of-fact statement and computerized voice carried no overt aggression, a sharp contrast to the flurry of laser fire passing through the now opened doorway.

“Synths! Take cover!”

Katherine didn’t need to be told - she dove for cover behind a fallen file cabinet the instant she caught sight of the laser’s flash. Her grip tightened around her pistol as she heard Danse shout - a cautious glimpse revealed that the synths - that’s what he said they were? - were prioritizing the Paladin as a target, paying no attention to her. She wasn’t sure if they had even noticed her.

A dozen thoughts all raced through her head, tangling together as she stared at the machines. Mannequins was the comparison Danse had drawn. He wasn’t too far off. They were battered, damaged, rubber skin torn to reveal steel skeletons and plastic components. Only a moment had passed before one of them turned its gaze to Kate. The faint yellow glow of its eyes and the exposed grimace of its metal skull was an eerie sight - and one that quickly exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Danse had taken it out with a single headshot.

The moment was enough to jolt her back into action, and she followed up by returning fire. Her 10mm pistol wasn’t nearly as effective as the AER-9 laser rifle Danse carried, but it did the job.

“Hmph. Sent them to the scrap heap.” He noted the laser weaponry carried by the synths, and had a realization. He glanced at the pistol carried by his current associate, and offered her the backup laser rifle he had brought. “Take this. I’m certain there’ll be more of them, and they’ll be carrying microfusion cells. Energy will be more effective than a weapon of a ballistic nature.” The Paladin tossed the rifle towards Katherine, who caught it with a startled yelp. She turned the weapon over in her hands. She had a passing familiarity with the AER-9 - though she had never personally handled one, she understood the basic mechanisms, and microfusion cells were something she was well acquainted with.

She fastened her 10mm pistol to her belt and kept the laser in hand. Danse had already stepped over the smoldering wrecks of the synths, but her curiosity was too strong. She stopped in the middle of the room, and crouched down over one of the robots.

They had been shooting at me only minutes ago, she thought, and there was still part of her that was worried they might spring back to life. Yet despite that lurking fear, she had to get a closer look.

The situation struck her as a little morbid, perhaps. Moreso than examining a broken-down Mr. Handy, at least.

It was the faces, she thought. The eyes.

The Institute. That’s where Danse said they had come from. Katherine had seen how the world was torn apart, still ruined from the bombs dropped so long ago. But it seemed that somewhere out there, something had not just survived, but thrived. Moved on past the limits of the world she knew, developed things that General Atomics could only have dreamed of.

A weight settled somewhere deep in her chest as she turned one over. An aching sort of sadness.

She didn’t have a chance to process those feelings, to figure out the why behind them.

“What are you doing? Hurry up. We can’t waste any more time.” Danse snapped, irritated by what he saw as Kate’s dawdling.

“Oh.” Katherine’s response was quiet. She got to her feet, gaze lingering on the remains of the synths, before turning away to follow Danse once again, through the ruins of ArcJet.

Katherine was worn down by the repeated encounters with the institute synths - after the first firefight she stuck closer than ever to the paladin - and stayed behind him, too. The power armor could take a laser much better than she could.

She was sure Danse was scowling at her cowardice, under his helmet.

“This way leads to the engine core. We’ll have to pass through here to reach the location where they’ve likely stored the transmitter.”

Danse looked back to find Kate dragging her fingers through the dust on a long abandoned desk, staring at a box of long faded files and folders.

“Everything here stopped so suddenly… how many people do you think made it out?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“When… the bombs dropped.” Katherine clarified, her voice tinged with sadness.

Danse cocked his head. “I couldn’t tell you, and I doubt anyone in the commonwealth has that information, given how many years have passed since those events.” He scoffed. “Regardless, I would suggest against concerning yourself with the people of the past. Their actions brought the war upon themselves.”

Her only response to Danse’s declaration was to go very quiet.

The elevator ride that took them to the engine core was awkward; Katherine pressed herself into the back corner of the car and wondered how much a suit of T-60 power armor weighed. Every time the elevator creaked, or groaned, she flinched. The thought that it had gone two centuries without maintenance scared her.

Kate’s knuckles went white as she clutched the pitted railing, just leaning barely enough over to stare down to the depths of the room. Her eyes followed the length of the rocket booster back up, and turned to look back at Danse, whose attention was drawn upwards, assessing the staircase - and the massive gap where it had broken away over the past two centuries.

It wasn’t filling Katherine with confidence, that was for sure.

–

It was only a short few flights to the floor of the test chamber, thankfully. The ash crunched under Katherine’s feet, and she walked a line around the edge of the room, idly looking over the footprints she left.

Danse placed an armored hand on the cowl of the engine, which had laid dormant for over two centuries. He wondered briefly if the brotherhood would have a use for it.

Maybe if it were smaller. As it stood, there was no way to transport the thing.

“See if you can find a way to turn the power back on. Perhaps redirect it from other parts of the facility.”

“Yeah - yeah sure.” There were only two ways out of the room, aside from the stairs. An elevator, unpowered and unusable, and a set of heavy steel double doors, halfway open and leading to what looked like a maintenance hall, judging by the wires and pipes running along the concrete. Seemed promising - or so she hoped.

There was a… she supposed it was some sort of control room, judging by all the consoles and buttons present, but she didn’t pay much attention to it - another doorway at the rear of the room exposed a fusion generator, and that was much more promising when it came to potential power systems.

Not just one fusion generator, but two - and a terminal at the back of the room. She nudged the chair away from the desk, wheels leaving a trail in the dust. As she settled in, Kate’s fingers ran across the terminal keys. There was no elaborate security down here in the depths. It didn’t surprise her. But it did make her current task easier - and she was glad. She tapped her way through various options, scanning every choice and setting .

Ah. There we go. Auxiliary power. A few confirmations and…

She could hear the power systems coming to life in the walls around her, the faint buzz of electricity through wires, and the hum of mechanical systems powering up. That should have done it, if everything was still connected.

The fusion generators she had passed has turned quiet, and her gaze lingered on the fusion core left inside. Well… if that was no longer connected, no longer needed.

Push, turn, and a click as it disconnected, slipped into her pocket on the way out.

It was the sound of gunfire that made Katherine snap to attention once again. Or, more accurately, laser fire. Flashes of blue and red through the reinforced glass window of the control room.

The paladin’s shouts confirmed her assumption.

“Synths!”

She froze up, eyes darting across the room, tracking the barrage of blue bolts in front of her.

It felt like hours before Danse called out again, directed at her. “Do something, Vance! Don’t just - urgh - stand there!”

It was enough to jolt her into action.

She slammed her open palm down on the big red button on the console in front of her.

The sounds of laser fire weren’t enough to obscure the pre-recorded countdown that initiated.

“Command accepted. Test fire commencing in five… four…”

Katherine’s heart was doing backflips in her chest. “Test fi- oh god oh no job on that’s not -” She pounded on the window. “Danse!”

“Three… two…”

Danse didn’t have time to muster a response, under the onslaught of synths.“

"One. Engine firing.”

The roar of the engine was deafening, and Katherine’s immediate reaction was to cover her ears. The sound was matched in intensity by the engine’s output - even here behind the safety of the blast shield, she still felt the wave of heat.

Danse dropped to one knee, arm raised to shield his face. The steel of his power armor picked up a faint red glow around the edges under the engine’s flames.

The synths weren’t nearly as durable. Any of them immediately under the test engine were swiftly reduced to ash, and those with a little more distance crumpled to the floor within moments.

“Test firing completed with an efficiency rating of ninety-six point seven percent.”

Katherine was already at the blast doors by the time they swung open. Her footsteps crackled in the ash as she ran to Danse.

He hadn’t moved since going down, and that made her fearful.

But as she approached, he groaned, reaching for the laser rifle he had dropped.

“Danse? Oh my god I’m - shit, shit I’m sorry I didn’t know - I didn’t think - *are you okay?!” She was on the verge of panic.

“I’m fine.” Danse grunted, getting to his feet with a little more effort than usual.“Thanks to my power armor. Without it I would have fared no better than those damn synths.”

Katherine reached a hand out, a gesture of support, but as she placed it on his arm…

“Ouch!” She yelped, flinching backwards. The metal still held quite a bit of heat. She shook her hand - that was gonna leave a mark.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision, but the results are acceptable enough.” The paladin gestured toward the elevator, where the call buttons were now lit up. “I strongly suggest we keep moving on. I don’t know how many more synths are in this building, or if they’re on their way to us again, and I’d rather not stand around to learn the answer.”

Perhaps it was more of a command than a suggestion, as he didn’t wait for a reply before heading towards the elevator.

“Um…” Kate hurried after him, still worried, though now for a different reason. “How much does that power armor weigh…? Is that going to be within the weight limit? I don’t - that elevator is two hundred years old and I know it hasn’t had regular maintenance, what if it -”

Danse turned around to look at Katherine. Even with his helmet obscuring his expression, she could sense his disapproval.

“Sorry.” She offered lamely, before going quiet and squeezing into the elevator car beside him.

It was a tight fit.

“All the information I’ve gathered indicates that the deep range transmitter is most likely stored in this control room,” Danse explained, “and there’s almost no evidence of scavenger activity in these parts of the facility.”

“What about the synths?”

“They arrived not long before we did, from the looks of things. If the deep range transmitter isn’t in the control room, one of the synths may have taken it. If that’s the case, we should hope they haven’t yet left the facility - if they’re still here, recovering the transmitter will be a simple task.”

“… more gunfights?”

“Very likely.”

Katherine clutched her laser rifle just a little tighter as they made their way towards the control room.

She was very conscious of her choice to keep behind Danse. The power armor protected him - and anyone behind him.

The tinny statement of “Hostile detected.” was the first sign of synths ahead, followed by the pchew of laser fire overhead.

“Contact!” Danse was the superior marksman between them and was quick to take out a trio of synths. They crumpled to the ground in rapid succession, and the third found its plastic skin burnt to ash as it fell.

Katherine was quick to offer fire against the last two synths as Danse reloaded - though none of her shots missed, she was far less accurate. It took more than twice as many shots for her to take them down.

“Well done.”

“Oh - um. Thank- thank you.” She never was great at handling praise, and was quick to scamper off in search of the transmitter, investigating the destroyed synths while Danse searched the room.

A few recovered microfusion cells found their way into her pockets, before a larger item caught her eye. She nudged the synth aside with her boot, uncovering… well, she wasn’t certain it was the deep range transmitter but it did have the look of a very complicated and very expensive piece of technology.

Katherine made her way back to Danse with the device slung under her arm. “Hey - I found this and um. Is this what you’re after?”

“That would be it, yes. Excellent! And it doesn’t appear to have sustained any damage.”

“Yeah, that’s good news.”

“There should be a way to exit the facility from here, so there won’t be any need to backtrack. Follow me.”

Danse wasn’t one to loiter - Katherine found it hard to keep up with him.

“… oh, another elevator.”

The service elevator led to an exit behind the ArcJet building, up a hill, sheltered inside a concrete structure. The commonwealth was quiet - there were no signs of any synths lingering outside. They were both equally relieved by this.

Danse took a few steps past the aged, rusting fence, and turned back to face Katherine. With his rifle holstered he reached up to remove his helmet, tucking it under one arm as he spoke. “well, I’m certain that could have gone smoother, but mission accomplished.”

Kate winced. She really had no frame of reference here. “I’m - I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She trailed off, deflating.

“While the operation was flawed, your contributions were still invaluable. Without your assistance I would certainly have been overwhelmed on multiple occasions. I’m not certain I could have retrieved the transmitter on my own.”

“Oh…!” There was surprise in Kate’s exclamation. She shuffled her feet a bit, awkward. “I’m… glad to hear that. I think.”

The paladin continued onward. “With that said, I believe we have two important matters to discuss. First and foremost is the deep range transmitter. If you’ll hand it to me, I’d like to compensate you for your assistance during this operation.”

“Yeah, yeah okay, here, this is, um. This is yours.” Kate offered Danse the device, which was swiftly packed away and secured.

He unholstered the rifle at his side, presenting it to Katherine. “Here. You clearly have an aptitude with technology - and with energy weapons. I think you’ll benefit from this; It’s my own personal modification to the standard issue AER9 laser rifle.”

“…really? Don’t you need this?” Katherine gingerly accepted the weapon, scanning it. She could see evidence of tinkering - and, of course, the brotherhood’s symbol stencilled along the barrel. She ran a thumb across the paint.

“It’s not the only weapon at my disposal. Besides, I believe in paying my debts.”

“Well then… thank you.”

“You’re welcome, civilian. Now, onto the second matter.”

Kate bit her tongue, unsure of what to expect.

“I wanted to make you a proposal. We had a lot thrown at us back there, and for the most part, you handled yourself exceptionally.”

She found herself wanting to disagree, but said nothing.

“Our op could have ended in disaster, but your determination kept that from happening. I believe that with a bit of training, you could be a valuable asset to the Brotherhood.”

“Erm.” Was she being recruited? She would have flunked out of the pre-war military almost instantly.

“The way I see it, you’ve got a choice. You could spend the rest of your life wandering the commonwealth, scrounging for supplies and trading your skills for a meager reward. Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world.” Danse shifted his weight, grip tightening on the helmet he still held.

“So, what do you say?”

Kate bit her lip. “The Brotherhood of Steel, huh? You guys are… aren’t you military?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Her hesitation was obvious. “Is this something I can think about? I don’t think I know enough here to, uh. to make a decision so quickly.”

“Of course. It’s a big decision. The offer still stands, and when you’ve made up your mind, you know where to find me.” Danse took a moment to put his helmet on once again, and his voice crackled out from within. “With all that said, I need to return to the police station. The deep range transmitter ought to be installed sooner, rather than later, so we can get in contact with the rest of the Brotherhood. Thank you again for your assistance, Vance. I wish you the best.”

Katherine found herself staring after Danse as he turned and left, heavy footsteps echoing off the hills around them. She shook her head as if to clear it. This whole thing had taken her off track, and she sighed. She had always been praised for her willingness to help, but so often that kept her away from her own tasks.

She certainly wasn’t going to make it to Diamond City today, she realized - the sky was still light, but she knew that wasn’t going to last much longer.

There weren’t enough hours in the day. That had been true two hundred years ago, and it was still true now.

She wasn’t looking forward to setting up camp for the night.

[hiddenwiki13]

Fall In Love With HIDDEN WIKI

Reviewing the 1970s, "darknet" was truly not an awful term: it just inferred networks that were detached from the standard of ARPANET for security purposes. Notwithstanding, as ARPANET changed into the web and a brief timeframe later ate up basically the wide extent of various PC networks out there, the word came to perceive areas that were connected with the web yet not really of it, hard to track down on the off chance that you didn't have a guide.

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There are still protests where medications are evaluated, says Radware's Smith, regardless, review that they ought to be taken with a gigantic grain of salt. A specialist may get a high from something they purchased on the web, at any rate not like what the medication was that given it.

  One explanation such errors are made? Different weak web drug makers will in addition buy pill presses and tones, which retail two or three hundred dollars and can make risky clone drugs. "One of the later alerts that I could imply would be Red Devil Xanax," he said. "These were sold as some super Xanax bars when truly, they were simply horrible medications expected to hurt you." Everything You Wanted to Know About hidden wiki and Were Too Embarrassed to Ask

 The weak web gives discount things to striking nearby retailers...

 Smith says that some standard remedy cartels utilize the dull web networks for dissipating—"it disposes of the subject matter expert and awards the cartels to send from their own stockrooms and spread it on the off chance that they need to"— yet inconspicuous administrators can also give the individual touch at the neighborhood level following to purchasing drug produced combinations discount from China or somewhere else from areas like the one in the screen get here. "You know how there are loads of neighborhood IPA microbreweries?" he says. "We in addition have a ton of nearby little investigation workplaces. Around there, there's obviously, notwithstanding, one child that is gotten canny and recognizes how to arrange drugs on the darknet, and make very few solutions to offer to his neighborhood affiliation."

 ...who utilize the gig economy

 Smith depicts how the darknet meets with the unregulated and passed on the universe of the gig economy to help reasonable hold. "What about we expect I need to have something bought from the darknet transported off me," he says. "I'm not going reveal my authentic territory, isn't that so? I would have something like that passed on to an AirBnB—a territory that can be discarded, a burner. The case appears to be the day they lease it, by then they put the thing in a Uber and send it to another space. It winds up being astoundingly hard for law need to follow, particularly in the occasion that you're going across different domains."

Not all things are open to being purchased on the dull web

 We've contributed an enormous heap of energy looking at drugs here purposefully. Smith calls narcotics "the genuine foundation" of the weak web; "cybercrime—selling attempts and inadequacies, web application assaults—that is the electronic foundation. Basically, I'd say a ton of the darknet is in reality medications and children analyzing little encroachment on get-togethers."

 A piece of the truly terrifying sounding stuff you get some answers concerning being open to being purchased as frequently as potential breezes up being by and large gossipy treats. Take weapons, for example: as Smith puts it, "it would be less hard for a criminal to buy a firearm, truly, versus the web. Going to the darknet is adding an additional development that isn't huge for the association. Precisely when you're administering confirmed hoodlums, they will recognize somebody that is selling a weapon."

 Unequivocal specialties are in

 Notwithstanding, there are some sure darknet specialty includes out there, regardless of whether they don't have the very impression that tranquilizers do. One that Smith made me notice was the universe of skimmers, gadgets that fit into the openings of genuine credit and ATM card perusers and get your money-related harmony information.

 In addition, giving another outline of how the darknet weds certified articles open to be purchased with information available to be purchased, similar complaints likewise give information manual sheets to different standard ATM models. Among the jewels accessible in these sheets are the default passwords for a couple, praised web-related models; we will not give everything away here, in any case for a couple, it's a similar digit emphasized on different events.

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[curiousconch]

Gravity

Chapter 5 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU) 

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As Heather struggles to decide how to move forward, she and Bryce gets embroiled in a night full of revelations.  

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song) 

Words: 2.7k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language and a bucket heap of angst (maybe more)

Author’s Notes: I will expect some hate towards all the drama, but a love triangle is always a complex subject to deal with. In reality, navigating through it does not spare any of the hearts being broken at some point or another, because of the level of humanity that gets exposed when love isn’t returned. I know that firsthand.So this chapter is somewhat taken from that very real experience. But I promise, there’s purpose at the end 🌈🙂

This was inspired by IMHO, one of the angstyiest songs ever produced in the face of the earth - Gravity by Sara Bareilles. Also, disclaimer: majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC villain Jordan Anderson.

Thanks for taking the time to share and read this ❤ BTW, are you Team Bryce or Team Rafael? Let me know in your reblogs!

Rafael tucked his cold hands inside the pockets of his jacket as he kicked a random rock from the sidewalk. He badly wanted to sleep, but he can't. He can't stop thinking about what he's done to Heather, and about how he much he hurt her. 

He can't stand staying in his apartment due to the memories that flooded each corner, couldn't even bear to clean up the pieces of shattered glass from that night. So that cold night, he decided to sulk in the middle of the crowd. At least, he wouldn't be alone. 

He arrived at Donahues, and nodded to a few regular patrons as he approached the bar. He asked Reggie for a bottle of beer, and settled himself on one of the stools. 

As he was about to take a sip, he heard a voice nearby. He could single out that voice anywhere, so his eyes immediately darted towards the direction of a nearby booth. Once he found who he was looking for his gut twisted in knots. He knew that silhouette like the back of his hand.

There she was, leaning on an old jukebox, a glass of cocktail in hand. His heart jumped inside his rib cage, excitement at the sight of her flooding in. He twisted himself to stand, but abruptly stopped as he saw a tall figure approach her. 

Even in the dim light, she saw her brilliant smile as she looked up at the guy. He instantly felt like an idiot all over again.

A fast-paced song flooded through the speakers. He saw Bryce offer a hand to her, which she happily took. Rafael saw them dance to the beat, laughter filling the gaps in between. He noticed a new spring in Heather's step, taking him back to the first time he brought her home to his grandmother. It was the same night when he taught her how to dance samba, with only the moon and the dim street lights illuminating their movements. The very night he decided to pursue Heather - the only woman who embraced him at the time when all he could offer was himself, a woman whom at first he thought as entirely out of his league.

All of those fading memories suddenly returned in full color, now when that same woman is dancing with anyone but him. Now it wasn't his hands holding her, it wasn't him who's making her laugh, it was no longer him who made her smile. Instead, he became the cause of her pain. 

He looked away, the idea of Heather being with someone else becoming more unbearable by the second. He leaned heavily on the bar and chugged the rest of his beer, before asking for another bottle. He covered his face with the palms of his hands, as the pain of his guilt pricked him inside like a fresh wound. 

When the tune ended, he looked back at Heather and didn't immediately find her. 

"Rafael?" he stopped as he recognized who just said his name. He wanted to ignore her. But deep down all he wanted was to make amends and be hers again. So despite his shame, he turned to face the music. 

"Heather," he straightened himself up, sobering when he saw the shine in her eyes. "How are you?" 

"I'm doing fine," her icy tone was like salt to his open scar. 

 "Can we talk?" 

"Why, so you could come up with another of your lame excuses?" she leaned away from him as she ordered a round of shots. 

"I deserved that," Rafael rubbed the back of his neck. He stepped closer, fixated in trying not to touch her. "Heather, please, just this once."

"Okay," Heather said before she even had the time to think. She couldn’t help herself, she was still drawn to him, and she cursed herself for it. One moment with him seemed to decimate all of her fragile strength. "Let me just bring this over to the guys and then I'll meet you outside," she turned before walking away, "but you get only 10 minutes, then we're done." 

“That’s more than enough for me,” he nodded. He trailed her with his eyes before he went outside, finding an empty table in the back garden. 

Heather handed out the shots among Jackie, Aurora, Sienna, Elijah and Bryce while she explained the situation. Bryce almost choked halfway through his tequila when she mentioned Rafael. It was as if a bucket of cold water just washed over him. He made an effort to keep his cool, while he internally battled with his desire to stop her from going back to him.

Heather was able to make a read on Bryce’s sudden silence though. He was full of life just a few minutes ago, when he twirled her around as they danced together. She was almost certain that he wanted to interject, but chose not to interfere. 

“You really wanna do this?” Aurora broke the quiet that fell upon their booth.

”I don’t know if it’s the best thing for me,” Heather replied, ruffling her bangs. “Maybe? I think I just owe it to myself to hear him out.”

“Well if it helps you both in the long run, I say you should go,” Sienna said as she offered a comforting squeeze on Heather’s arm.

Her best friend as usual, was right. She needed to hear what Raf had to say, regardless of how they both move forward. That was all the encouragement Heather needed. She then tipped off one shot - slightly relying on the liquid courage to help her get this over with.  Although there was something that seemed to anchor her on the ground, she went to find Rafael anyway. 

Bryce followed her with his eyes, hoping against hope that by the end of the night he wouldn’t have to let her go again.

”Hey,” Heather sat down opposite Rafael in a corner table.

He watched her without speaking, unable to find his voice for a few moments. His chest felt heavy, conscious of the fact that the odds were stacked against him. Yet, he held onto hope, not wanting to give up so easily.

“You wanted to talk, so, talk,” she crossed her arms, and tried to put up a brave front. 

He cleared his throat, delaying his response as he tried to compose a coherent offer to convince her take him back. When he found the right words in his mind, he began to speak. 

"I'm not going to justify what I did, Heather. It was incredibly wrong of me to betray you and to have caused your hurt," he shifted a little, leaning closer to her, and tried reaching out for her hand. Seeing that she did not flinch, he continued.

"I can never take back what I did, and the damage I've done. But if I have to spend the rest of my life asking for your forgiveness and trying to make this work between us, I will do everything in my power to do that, meu amor," he reached out and took her hand in his. "I simply can't stand to not be with you, I love you so, so much. I still do. So if you still want this, if you still want us, I'm asking you to take me back."

Heather felt her bravado begin to dissolve with his touch. Oh how she missed the calloused hands with which he caressed her, every cell in her body seemed to betray her. She sighed deeply, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. In her heart, she wanted nothing else but to forget everything and move on. But at this point, she wasn't sure if she wanted to do that with him. 

"I-I don't know, Raf," she stuttered, her eyes beginning to shimmer. It hurt that she couldn't just say yes to him again. "I know I'll be able to forgive you someday, Raf. But I'm not sure if I can choose to stay with you, for what you've done..." she concluded. 

She didn't know. At least not now. That's what he heard her say. Even if there's a slight chance of her being able to forgive him, and to take him back, he'd gladly accept it. 

"You don't have to answer now," he said. "Take all the time you need to think about it. I promise I won't bother you until you're already decided," he spoke gently. 

"Thanks, Raf. I'll think about it." And with that, she excused herself and went back inside. She went directly to the restrooms, her head spinning. She slumped herself on a nearby wall, inhaling air deeply as if she was drowning. She felt her chest thump with her rapidly beating heart, exhausted with the encounter. 

After several minutes, she composed herself and went back out, moving towards the direction of their booth. Her friends asked how it went, so she shared the general gist of it. They all agreed that it made sense, pitching in each of their own thoughts. Heather tried to listen to them, but she was distracted. 

Bryce's disposition faltered a little. She noticed that something changed, leaving her bothered. She knew that there’s a reason behind the diminished sarcasm in his voice, as well as in his almost-muted cockiness. She tried to justify to herself that he probably had something to deal with at work, but couldn't completely convince herself. She didn't want to let herself swim in her own assumptions, unless until everything with Raf was settled. So she chose not to prod. 

It wasn't long that they all decided to call it a night. They both walked towards his car and got in without a word to each other. She noticed that he barely even looked at her. The rest of the ride back to the condo was spent with her fidgeting with her phone, the awkward quiet gradually swallowing her whole. 

When they entered the hallway, Heather couldn't hold it in anymore. She wanted answers. 

"Hey Lahela, what happened there?" she asked. 

With his back facing her, she couldn't see his reaction. 

Bryce was stumped in place, unable to take another step forward. Damn it, reading me like an open book as always. The swirling emotions in his chest threatened to loose control. He shut his eyes closed for a few seconds, willing them away to no avail. So with clenched fists, he turned around and stared at the woman who captured his heart and threatened to unknowingly rip it apart. 

"You're a smart ass woman, Heath, try to figure it out."

Heather's mouth went ajar, unsure how to process his response. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or as an insult, Lahela." 

Bryce forced himself to walk forward, leading his steps to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels, downing it all in one gulp. 

"What's gotten into you now? Just this afternoon you gave a freaking speech about bouncing back and yada yada yada, now you're insulting me?" Heather was flustered and beyond infuriated as she followed him to the kitchen.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, not now, Heath." He poured another helping of the strong liquid, hoping it was enough to push down the rising anger within him. 

Heather was hell bent in getting to the bottom of it tonight. If there was anything she valued in her life, it was honesty. And when she wants it from anyone, she won't back down. 

"Yes, you do. You know fucking well that you need some explaining to do. I'm done beating around the bush with you, I'm done being in the receiving end of veiled threats, betrayals, or hidden truths. I'm not taking that crap from the one person whom I can rely on to not screw me around with lies," she pounded her fist on the wooden surface of the table separating them. "So for the last goddamn time, I'm going to ask, what the hell happened with you tonight?"

He replied by setting down his glass, the force with which he set it down cracking its bottom. All the pent up frustration within him was now manifesting unrestrained. 

"Fine, you want to know what's the deal with me? You. It's you, dammit," he finally said without shame, like a contrite man in confession, his hands waving in the air.

Fuck it, I'm doing this. Friendships be damned.

"I never liked commitments in relationships because, I wanted to stay suspended in midair, always on a high," he paused, sucking in a deep breath. "For me, all that romantic crap only meant being pulled back by gravity, it's all just a whole gigantic crash and burn. Ever heard of my mother?" The mention of his own mother's selfish act still stung him to the core. "But every single time I see you, I'm more than willing to crash down to the ground for you. It's because I want you, you idiot. I wanted you ever since I met you. I wanted you so fucking much that I hid it because I wanted to stay in your life, even as only a friend."

There I said it. Bryce no longer felt suffocated, lighter, like a heavy boulder was lifted from his chest. 

He watched Heather who was stunned into silence, as he tried to catch his breath. He attempted to translate the expression that suddenly filled her hazel eyes. He sighed in relief when he noticed it soften, as she began to speak. 

"A little too late, Lahela," her voice was small, and her smile seem to be filled with sadness. 

Bryce's eyes widened in shock, as the meaning of those five words dawned on him.

"You didn't just assume that I opened up to every man that showed interest, didn't you?" she laughed bitterly, sitting down while her knees buckled with regret. "I waited for you to make a move, Bryce. But you never did. So I thought you weren't interested. Then Raf happened." 

He couldn't find his voice, confounded with what Heather was trying to tell him.

"When Rafael and I first met, I thought of his as a close friend. It wasn't love at first sight, it was a more of a slow burn. A gentle, uncomplicated but stable romance," she paused, raising her head to look him in the eyes. "But he was man enough to own up to his feelings, Bryce. He was man enough not to hold back," he watched as she bit her lip, struggling not to shiver himself. "But most of all, he didn't quit. Not like you who bailed himself out too early, too afraid to get hurt."

He took a step forward, wanting nothing but to hold her and kiss her. His confused emotions held him hostage to the spot where he was standing.

"I'm not some clueless bitch you think I am. I had an idea, but you were too busy hitting on every woman in front of me that I never thought you'd get serious with someone," she paused, her voice filled with rue and remorse. "For the so-called golden boy of Boston's DA office, you're one hell of a wimp," she rose from the table and walked away, leaving Bryce alone and regretful more than ever.

***

Bryce spent the next morning in an empty apartment. He heard Heather move around and leave at dawn to catch her early morning flight to Baltimore. But he didn't have it in him to face her. At least not yet.

Gathering the will to pull himself up from his bed, he prepared for another day at work. He mindlessly went through his routine as he processed the events of last night. He finally admitted his feelings to her, but she trampled with it with her own revelation.

Her words echoed repeatedly in his head, and he sunk within himself a little more. I waited for you to make a move, but you never did. He hated that she was right, that he was just some egotistic, self-absorbed coward who missed a hell of a shot with her. He also hated being helplessly powerless to do anything about it, her being more than 400 miles away from him.  

So he instead made himself busy - preparing drafts and evidence for the various cases that was about to go to court soon.  

The day was almost done when his phone began to ring incessantly. He ignored it at first, but it rang and rang until there was no the point to refuse to answer it. Sienna's name popped up on the caller ID. He sensed that something was wrong.

"Sienna?"

On the line, Bryce could hear the rising panic in her voice. 

"Johns Hopkins just called Dr. Ramsey. Heather didn't show up in the research facility today. Did she chose to stay back at your place? Bryce, please tell me you know where she is?"

Tag list - @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

Ricochet AU tags - @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela​

[lunaleetarot]

Gemini 2021 Year Ahead Birthday Spread

Starting from the top clockwise, theme in the middle.

May 2021- Queen of Wands

This month you may be surrounding yourself with a friendly individual who loves animals. This person may be you- or your mother or a mother figure or your romantic partner. Sometimes it just means you need to take on the traits of the Queen herself. Good or bad this may be a person who has a significant say in your current situation. I feel for some of you this may be a mother in law. This person will be more relevant in your life this month. The Queen is ambitious, she wants to climb the career ladder or do other great things. Usually this individual finds themselves playing the role of the leader for having the ability to take charge. This person takes pride in being a good friend and ally. They will consider how their decisions affect others before making any moves, making sure everyone involved is being treated fairly. Enjoy time in nature as much as you can this month. If possible, go to the zoo or take a nature hike. Keeping fit and taking care of your health will be important to you. There may be a demanding and domineering woman standing between you and what you want. Watch out for controlling and oppressive behavior. If you find yourself micromanaging everyone around you- check yourself. You may be dealing with someone born on the Pisces-Aries cusp (March 19-24th).

2. June 2021- Ten of Swords

Disaster may be coming to your doorstep this June. This is not a welcoming card, as it usually indicates destruction. I feel this has been brewing for weeks and it’s finally coming to a head with the Queen of Wands above. All may be lost here Gemini. Drama, conflict will reach their next stage or conclusion. Your relationship may end in the most terrible or cruel way. Something may happen that will strip you of your confidence. This card and abusive relationships can go hand in hand. Business, career and fiance many make a turn for the worst. Once the dust settles you can start anew, but I feel for this month you're still going to be in the thick of it. You may be in ill health. Take care of yourself from physical and emotional pain. At the very least I feel some type of betrayal is going to occur and you won’t be able to resolve the issue. This is your card Gemini, this is going to affect you directly.

3. July 2021- Seven of Wands

As we move into sweltering July, you're going to face the challenges from last month head on. You're ready to preserve and defend yourself. It could possibly result in a fight for you. The person who betrayed you last month is going to make a hassle for you, and it may become a severe problem in your life. You do not see eye to eye with this person, but I feel this is someone who you were once very close to. This person does not respect you or your way of doing things. For some of you, this could be a co-worker out to steal the spotlight from you in the office. Although this is frustrating, you have the long term advantage here. They covet what you have, but you earned it with your merit, talent and personality. Because of this, even if you have to fight, you will remain on top. You may be dealing with a Leo here.

4. August 2021- The High Priestess

All the conflict from last month has really helped you to trust your intuition. However this may be a time where you need to brace the unknown, Gemini. Your insights will be so spot on, it will almost feel like your psychic. You may have strong suspicions. You may suspect your partner is being unfaithful to you. It will be revealed to you. Something in your life isn’t quite right, and you’ll feel it Gem. A lover or a business partner may be keeping a secret from you. You will sense the dishonesty, even if you're not completely sure what it is. The secret will be revealed to you this month.

5. September 2021- Ten of Wands

You learned a harsh truth last month, and it’s leaving you physically shattered this September. The truth was revealed to you, but it left you wounded. Now you're facing many burdens. This is a card of hard work, and there is a lot of work left to be done for you Gemini. You’re going to have to put in a lot more effort than you have been previously. Now is the time to decide if you want to buckle down and complete the challenge or throw in the towel. This card isn’t telling you what to do, it’s only telling you that things are about to get more difficult. You will have a lot on your plate this month. You're most likely juggling work, family and other responsibilities. You go to bed at night thinking about all the work that is facing you the next day. You will be very overwhelmed. You're going to need to take care of yourself, especially since stress related illness is likely to crop up at this time. This card is often drawn for new parents who are spending sleepless nights and drained from responsibility. It could also mean you're working hard trying to get a business off the ground. You keep pushing and pushing but there’s no end in sight. If you keep grinding there is a cozy environment in your future. If you stay committed you will see the fruits of your labor. Keep pushing towards the life you want. You may be dealing with a Sagittarius.

6. October 2021- Five of Swords

As we move into Autumn, you will face defeat. You will lose something through a fault of your own or for some something may be stolen from you. Regardless you will experience misfortune in your conflicts. This is a theft card so make sure you have proper insurance, make sure you're careful with what you brag about within the home. An enemy is going to outsmart you. You may experience loss of reputation, position or your entire career altogether. This could come from friends instead of co-workers for some. A lover being stolen from you is also a possibility. It won’t be fair, but it won’t matter very much. You may be dealing with an Aquarius here.

7. November 2021- Five of Cups

After your fall from grace in the spooky month of October, you're facing setbacks in November. You're dealing with a lot of disappointment and negative thoughts. This will be a period of great sadness for you. Instead of feeling thankful this month, you will find yourself in a negative place. At this time you will be confused about what your next move should be, and possibly indulging in self-pity. This card often makes an appearance during a break-up or divorce. Although this is difficult now, there is someone out there who is better suited for you, Gemini. Your life is by no means over. If you're battling depression, get help. You don’t have to battle these feelings alone. You may experience this fall out over a strained friendship or family relationship. All is not lost, a second chance is within your grasp. However, you're going to have to try. You may be dealing with a Scorpio here.

8. December 2021- Ace of Wands

As we move into the holiday season, you're ready to start over and begin creating a new life for yourself. This month you’re creating something that will have an impact. This could be a life changing event like a new child or a new job- but for most it will probably just be a new hobby. You will be excited about new opportunities that present themselves. You may be starting a new relationship that is filled with spark and fire. If you find yourself pregnant- this card can indicate it will be a male child. This could be you or someone you're close to. Be mindful not to get so caught up in the excitement that once it isn’t fun anymore you stop putting in effort. You don’t want something promising to never get past the first stages because of this. However, I will say this is the first promising month I see for you. I feel like the holiday season will be when Gemini gets their groove back.

9. January 2022- Four of Cups

Coming into the new year, you may find the spark you had last month is now fizzling out. Perhaps reality stepped in or a new lover has decided to leave you this month. If this is the case for you, it’s likely they got bored of the relationship. If it isn’t, you will be the one feeling the boredom. You feel unhappy and discontent in your current circumstances this month. The excitement from December has fizzled out. You won’t be happy until you do something to change it. You may be procrastinating at work or your boredom could be leading you to an affair. You may feel like you're suffering from some sort of mid-life crisis (or something that closely resembles one) You covet what other people have, wishing your own life was better. You may be chasing something that just isn’t meant for you. Use your jealousy of others for good and work on the areas of your life you're upset about. Work hard and strike for the things you see others have that you want. Keep in mind, the grass may not be greener on the other side. Count your blessings and be grateful for what you have. You may be dealing with a Cancer this month.

10. February 2022- Six of Swords

You find yourself feeling apathetic this month. You're just not interested in the drama that’s been going on all year. You're ready to forgive and move on. This can result in moving towards or away from conflict- that’s up to you. This card is all about movement. You may be physically moving residence or leaving your hometown. You may be close to the water when you travel on a boat or make a plane trip. You're moving towards a certain goal or outcome. Keep the faith, you're making progress even if you don’t feel like it. Something could be progressing in a way you didn’t want to expect. Once you get what you want, you see the grass isn’t greener on the other side. I feel this could be you achieving a goal you set out last month and realizing it doesn’t really suit you. Keep your options open for now.

11. March 2022- The Magician

With the energy of moving on, you're setting your sights on your own talents, possibly sales. You will have a lot of willpower this month. A nice change for you as winter becomes spring. You’re setting goals and seeing them through. Nothing will stop you, Gemini! Taking action at this time will attract the opportunities you crave. Be careful, for some of you a con man may be coming into your life (or trying to come back into it). One thing is for sure, you will be starting something new. A new business, job or hobby is in store for you.

12. April 2022- Six of Wands

The talents you displayed last month will lead you with victory and new found popularity this month. Success is finally coming to you! You will receive recognition for your hard work. Soon you will be able to sit back and bask in the glow. It’s been a hard year, you deserve it. There is a possibility that you will be looked up to as an authority. You may become a sort of celebrity in your field or interest. Your social media following will likely increase at this time. You will also be rewarded financially. A well deserved ego boost may also be in order. For some this may mean your letting your stubbornness get in the way of your happiness. You can’t admit when you're wrong or deny that others may know more than you. This arrogance may turn people off. You may be dealing with a Leo at this time.

13. Theme of the Year- Page of Cups

This will be an emotional year for you, unfortunately a year of emotional immaturity. For the next 365 days you may be feeling sensitive and a bit soft. You desire love, care and affection- but you're going about getting it in all the wrong ways. This gentleness may be coming from a good place, but you appear overly sensitive and annoy others. You will come off childish, moody and downright silly. In other words, you need to act your age, Gemini. I feel you will spend much of this year day-dreaming. Be mindful not to lose time because you have your head in the clouds. A certain stage of your life is coming to a natural end so a new stage can begin. You will notice this especially in June and September. This will be a painful experience for you, but it’s all for the best. I feel this could mean the end of a relationship so a new one can begin. Big events will occur in August and March. In October and November you will feel as though you’ve been defeated. February and April a special relationship may begin to bloom. It will start off slow but could lead to something amazing.