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sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n · 1 month

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Astro Observations

Venus Sign Obs Edition💫

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for 1k 🥹🫶🫶 here is an appreciation post 💖

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Aries Venus - these people are always doing it how they mean it or just active personality or they can have really strong values but open to new experiences. These natives are very open about how they feel about their relationships, they have a lot of passion for relations and friends, but it comes with a lot of issues being that they could have friends not reciprocate or people they love might not like them back in their younger years causing them to have low self worth. These natives have a big heart though! Aries is very big hearted but sometimes they don't act like it because they can be tough on those they care about but always to help them become better and they never mean true harm even when they try to be rude it usually just ends up funny or sassy to me (Aries mars too) 😭🤍

Taurus Venus - ooo LUV ❤ I am so biased lol as a Taurus moon because you guys are always super safe for me, like even the toxic ones can be super lovable ugh 😭 besides the toxic ones... The females are so kind and have some strong values/morals. Taurus Venus wants stable relationship with give and take and they want to have their partner to themselves and can become very jealous easily but don't like to admit it and they can be so shmexy about it like "I wanna leave a bite mark so everyone knows you are mine" ugh as scorpio Venus I eat that shiz up 😭💫💫

Gemini Venus - most likely to be besties before lovers, totally the most positive and funny in the room and so smart about random things. It's so much fun to hang out with these natives and they have a great sense of who they are and will take nothing less in relationships than what they deserve. They can have a lot of problems in the dating aspect because they are more comfortable with friends rather than being intimate and giving themselves fully to someone. Geminis and Gemini venuses can be quite open with their friends and people around them but with their loved ones closest to them it can be kind of hard for me to understand them because they can be a bit detached but it's for safety which I get and honestly I think they keep secrets just as good as ppl say Scorpios do, when they want to.

Cancer Venus - they get a lot of their values from their mothers. They have a lot of kind energy but sometimes they can be covert narcissists if aspecting asteroid narcissus or in the 12th house, because 12th house can make one have a hard time with boundaries in life. Cancer Venus is very kindhearted and want to care for their friends. However, they often seem great in the beginning but soon emotions become the forefront of the relationship often I see these placements being very sensitive people in close relationships and for me I just don't like that, sometimes it makes me feel like I have to walk on eggshells and I cannot speak my mind, but that is not Always the case for everyone and every cancer Venus if they have other good placements like earth placements to balance out emotions and grounded logic they can be very kindhearted and loyal and stable. In bed cancer Venus would want to get closer to the person and to create a nurturing environment definitely a cuddle buddy, the men might very comforting to their partner and protective which is just so heartwarming. Types to get turned on by cuddling literally. I love Cancer Venus peeps not super enjoyed as friends tho (8th house synastry😭) still tho ~🩵🩵🩵

Leo Venus - they are class clown guys or the baddie girlies, and they always have a pretty good sized friend group. Not necessarily famous but they have a lot of light and this can show up as getting a lot of attention from people. They are so IT ppl 💅 Always on trends and know how to dress UP 💃 these natives have a lot of passion for exploring and learning, always ready to go on an adventure with friends or family. They have a lot of fancy styles and elegance they dress to impress lol. (They also imo would be very good at dress to impress😭) Leo Venus in relationships want to be treated Right and nothing lessbut they have had low self esteem at some point in they're younger years but they grow into themselves later in life. Leo Venus in bed is passionate and looking to have fun, want to be praised or the opposite 🫣. . . Such loyal friends and family members, the types to give random gifts because they have a lot of nice things and might want to get rid of them and just gift to family and friends, really lovely souls and fun to be around.

Virgo Venus - most I have known were either really short or really tall no in between... They usually wear glasses if Venus/mercury is afflicted. Virgo Venus are very caring and they are very much the type to treat you as a patient whom they care about the health of same with 6th house Venus. Very concerned about the health of their loved ones and they want to take good care of them. Virgo Venus men in bed is always careful of your safety and wants to make sure you are comfortable and wants to know what you like/dislike and does so in a very attractive way. They are also very smart and/or smart looking people like dark academia aesthetic clothing. 🤍🫰also - of in good house - love for animals and care for them a lot

Libra Venus - these natives I have not seen in a good light and I have only met few, but I know that there are some lovely Libras out there somewhere - the ones I have known enjoy gossiping, mental stimulation, and often have a lot of conventional beauty. These people in some cases may be the type to run from arguments when less mature... In relationships they are really kind and compliment their loved ones a lot. Often they have pretty good skincare routines or they know a lot about make-up things, from my experience.

Scorpio Venus - these natives are super strong & powerful physically and/or emotionally. These natives in relationships are very loyal and passionate, might have issues with obsession in relationships and tend to like bad boys who are mysterious and this is usually what causes they're pain arc, and they end up staying by themselves especially if in the 12th house, so that they can rebuild and be more independent and learn about who they are. Scorpio Venus in bed are very maddening 🙈and intense, they may want connection and closeness with their partner sooner in the relationship rather than later. Scorpio Venus with friends are really loyal and sometimes may hold onto relationships a bit longer than necessary because they are comfortable even if it may be toxic... 👀

Sagittarius Venus - These natives are really fun, charismatic, and can often be jokesters. They do oftentimes like to party and have a wanderlust that cannot be beat. I see say men especially get a lot of flack for things like being flighty and having commitment issues and basically portray them as flirts and f boys which is so far from how I usually see it. From what I have seen, they are very outgoing and like to be friends with many, sometimes they are also the opposite too though, finding it hard to talk to ppl much, and sticking more to themselves... Either way, say venusians do in many cases think pretty highly of themselves though in my experience. Honestly they are, in my humble opinion, pretty fun and cool ppl. ❤️‍🔥

Capricorn Venus - often pretty serious but still fun and loyal ppl. They have a lot of sass sometimes in females and are girl bosses or they hold more traditional beliefs as males. The females I know are super strong and beautiful. As friends, they are giving with their time and energy with the relationships that they really care about. These natives are very hardworking or the opposite if afflicted. I don't know much about these natives because I know very few but I can say that they can be clingy when young, alao they often try to act mature sooner in turn some end up in relationships at a younger age, from what I have seen (male and female.)

Aquarius Venus - oh boy these natives are very different but they also are quite familiar to me, they have a need for a lot of mental stimulation and often they have like 2 really close ppl who they don't ghost but they often ghost ppl randomly and then come back like a few months later. Aqua Venus love to be sociable and have a lot of connections same with Venus 11th house, they are super fun and often come from a religious background but change their beliefs as they get older and have strong morals and values. They get really clingy with the ppl they love sometimes when younger and they can have rejection which causes them to be more detached and they end up being a bit flighty from one group to another, but overall when mature they are very interesting and smart ppl.

Pisces Venus - they're really kind and have a lot of love to give to the world, and are very artsy and have the ability to be very intelligent emotionally. Often Pisces Venus ppl are the kind of lover to paint for you or draw for you as a gift and love to just be freely very creative with their partners. Pisces Venus truly need to be protected they are very kind souls as long as they are kept away from the harmful things of the world in their homes. If they are not kept safe they may go down a bad path and those kinds of Pisces end up having insatiable loneliness which creates a perfect mentality for addiction. Pisces are amazing friends who can give great advice and they may often be the type to be friends with ppl who might hurt them or who they attempt to fix, or those who encourage their vices. Pisces ppl are super wise... and they love deeply when they fall for someone.

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『 Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment if I missed anything ~~ 💓🤍💓 ~~ 』

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erodasfishtacos · 5 months

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Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for.

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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teapartyprincess4two · 7 months

Note

Could you write about a random morning with Matt as his girlfriend? Sorry if I not making any sense.

Your writing is amazing!!! Have a wonderful day!!!

A Cold Sunday- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Girlfriend!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, established relationship, a lot of dialogue, very short

inspiration: request^^, A Cold Sunday by Lil Yachty, just the title mostly

summary: You and Matt spend a cold Sunday morning together, snuggling up and keeping warm.

—

Every day of the week was chock full of activities for both you and Matt. Whether it be work, appointments, events, or daily chores; you two rarely had time together during the week. Even Saturdays were hectic for you both, you’d usually only get a few hours together before bed before one of you dozed off.

That’s why you loved Sundays, they were the only day neither you worked and you always made sure never to schedule anything on those days.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Matt croaks from beside you, a lazy arm wrapped around your waist from under the comforter. “Good morning, baby,” you reply, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead.

“How did you sleep?” you ask, his eyes closing once again as the drowsiness settles back in. “Mmm good,” he hums, nuzzling into your chest slightly.

“That’s good, baby.”

You’re playing with his hair, your mind filling with ideas of what to do throughout the day. The possibilities were endless, especially because your only responsibility was to have fun with Matt.

“What do you wanna do today? We can go to the flea market, go eat some breakfast, or maybe we can try that new coffee shop,” you say in excitement, your cheery tone being too much for Matt this early in the morning.

“What about the mall? The mall could be fun. Ooo what if we have a picnic? We haven’t done that in so long,” you continue, subconsciously braiding strands of his hair as you compile a list of possible activities.

“It’s cold,” he murmurs, the statement being followed by a soft yawn.

Yawns are infectious, causing you to yawn shortly after. “Yeah, you’re right,” you reply, the yawn making it sound more like a roar.

“We can still do stuff…” he trails off, pulling away from you slightly to look at your face. You smile at him, you’re just happy to be spending time with him. “But we can stay in?” Matt suggests, loving the idea of a cozy day in.

You hum in response, already anticipating the cozy day ahead.

—

“Hurry, Matt! I’m cold!” you exclaim, lifting the comforter up so he can hop back into bed. “I can’t! The hot chocolate is gonna spill!” he shouts back, panicking as he tries balancing both mugs so none of the liquid spills over.

You groan playfully, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching for a mug, “here let me help you, you goof.” He chuckles at the nickname, carefully handing you a mug, “be careful, it’s hot.”

“I know, I’m smart.”

You sip the hot chocolate, trying to prevent it from spilling, but the scorching liquid has you pulling away immediately, “Fuck! That’s hot!”

“I just said that,” Matt chuckles, getting comfortable under the covers and pressing play on the movie you two were previously watching. “Shush, it’s good,” you murmur, going back for a second sip.

You settle back against the headboard, sipping occasionally as you watch the movie. Matt blows on his hot chocolate, afraid to burn himself like you did.

He blows on it hard enough for the liquid to spill over the cup. “Oh fuck. I spilled it,” Matt says blankly, looking at you as he tries not to laugh.

—

“Why was that movie so sad?” Matt sniffles, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. You’ve seen the movie a million times before and each time Matt has the same reaction.

“Babe, you know how it ends. How does it still make you cry?” you ask, chuckling slightly at his dramatic behavior.

“Y/n, don’t be so heartless,” he replies, looking at you as if you’re some type of monster. “How does it still not make you cry?”

You take a sip from your hot chocolate, fighting the laughter. “It’s really not that sad,” you say, taking a hold of the remote to find your next watch of the day.

“YES IT IS!”

“Matt, it’s Toy Story.”

“AND? HE WAS JUST A FORK!”

—

You’ve laid in bed with Matt all day, and although you haven’t waisted any energy, you’re really hungry.

“Just order pizza,” you suggest, resting your head on Matt’s shoulder as he orders the food on his phone. “I don’t want pizza though,” he replies, scrolling through DoorDash in search of the next best option.

“Chinese food?” you ask, your stomach grumbling at the suggestion. “Neh, too greasy.”

“Okay, what about Cane’s?”

“Not in the mood for chicken,” he replies, exhausting all his options.

“In N Out?”

“We had burgers last Sunday,” Matt finds an excuse to turn down all of your suggestions. “Just get whatever you want,” you mumble, becoming hangrier by the second.

He stays silent for a while, searching relentlessly for something appetizing, but he can’t find anything.

“I’m just gonna order pizza,” he finally comments.

“Bruh.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Just a short story about a goofy morning with Matt. Enjoy, luv u. Longer stories coming soon, they are COOKING!

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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punksocks · 7 months

Text

Astrology Observations: No.28

*just based on my observations, only take what resonates

(Sorry it’s been a minute, I got my time back then I got sick- like same day! I’m good now, thank god, but it was absolutely insane and everything has been going on in the world, my God)

-If your moon opposes your ascendant you may be known for making the wrong impressions on people (especially first impressions) at some point in your life

-Not the first time I said this but I feel like Libra Asc tend to need to balance out aspects of their life more bc of their houses having the opposite signs over them.

-On the other hand I feel like Aries asc have a very straightforward, sometimes less complicated world view bc of their houses lining up with their traditional rulers.

-Mars in determemt and fall (Libra, cancer, 12th house) really gives you a finite amount of stamina

-I feel like cancer venus/moons tend to wax the most poetically and romantically about the nostalgia they feel. Even stronger for Venus.

-Men with cancer placements be like: I didn’t know I was manipulating you into being nice to me until it was already happening (lmao oof)

-I noticed Aries and Scorpio Sun men/masc folks can get romanticized a lot, I think this is bc their identity is ruled by mars traditionally, so they tend to be assigned more masculine traits/act their traits out in a more “traditionally” (or even just comfortably) masculine way

-Aqua Sun/asc/venus usually have some features that makes their face really stand out I noticed (unique brow/nose/head shape etc) (idk why I haven’t seen this with moons as much)

-Signs in your 8th house may come off as mysterious or hard to understand

-You may find it really easy to vibe with people that have Sun conjunct your Asc

-I’ve noticed that a lot of Virgo mars may eat like really spicy or punishing foods (especially if the mars is in a fire house)

-Saturn aspecting your big 3 can help you age really well- depending on how well you take care of yourself (extreme example: dick van dyke, he’s almost 100 and he’s still jumping around with so much energy)

-Pisces placements can be like incredibly intelligent and yet still come off as a bit spacey (one of my favorite YouTubers used to head extra credits and he is SO SMART, like just a seriously huge capacity for knowledge but he sounds spacey when he does his chill gameplays and pieces things together unscripted lol)

-Jupiter square/opposition Sun can make you come off as overly pessimistic, it can also make you come off as optimistic at the wrong times (laughing at serious moments, etc)

-Taurus placements are so motivated by food, it’s so real (the amount of times I’ve had a Taurus sun/moon/mars not hear a word I was saying bc they were scoping out a restaurant? Countless lol)

-I notice a lot of rappers & musicians (especially the innovative ones) have major Pisces placements

-Aries moons get emotional fulfillment by winning what they chase after (Aries in big 6 tends to make you go after things in general too imo)

-I noticed sometimes Leo moon can make you a bit self centered, like in the most literal sense, you may have trouble understanding perspectives outside of your own

-Virgos and Geminis and 3rd/6th house placements have great memory but they tend to forget certain aspects. They tend to forget or mix up details. (My ex took like 3 years to remember my middle name beyond the first initial lol god; also, I always remember zodiac signs but not birthdays lol)

-I love how Joe Pera has a cancer Mercury and his comedy is like the coziest comedy I’ve ever heard, he even got his following bc his helping people fall asleep and just talking through his chill podcast (did not expect him to have like the most fire in his chart tho?? Wouldn’t have guessed lol)- Pisces Mercury and Mercury with hard aspects to Neptune probably have a cozy affect on others when they communicate with them too

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mswyrr · 4 months

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kanthony thoughts: rivals to lovers done right

I usually prefer Enemies to Lovers to Rivals to Lovers. What is the difference I see there, you might ask? Enemies are on opposite sides of a serious, life and death conflict, and rivals have issues with each other, but their rivalry takes place within the realm of everyday life. For me, I can forgive bad behavior within a serious conflict more easily than if the Rivals to Lovers couple goes over the top in a less serious situation.

I said all that to say: Kanthony is Rivals to Lovers done right. Below are the reasons I see for why.

1- The writers keep putting them in situations where everyone around them is feeling competitive - horse racing, the yearly Bridgerton pall-mall game, the hunt. If everyone around them has their blood up and is vying with each other, it's understandable that the situation brings out the competitive energy and Belligerent Sexual Tension they're both feeling for each other. They don't seem to be going over the top because of some inner excessive pettiness; they're caught up in the spirit of the thing and it's unleashing their repressed feelings for each other.

2- They are both competitive but also "good sports" - they conduct themselves honorably in these scenarios. No cheating, no getting too personal in their swipes at each other. They both love to compete and to win and hate to lose and they're bubbling over with repressed passion for each other, but they'll accept defeat without being childish or over the top mean. They maintain a sense of perspective, even when they're being passionate.

3- Their banter is either sincere or appropriately artful. Example: at the soiree, after Kate hears Anthony talking about ladies as chattels to the other men, she takes a huge risk in confronting him about it- this is a very rich and powerful man and she is a smart person, she knows keeping her secrets close is the safest and best way to do things in her situation. But she cares about him and hates that he'd talk like that - so she speaks up. She longs to connect with him, to understand why he could say such a thing. For his part, he cares that she's so hurt by what he said, he cares about her opinion of him. They matter to each other. This is the "sincerity" category of banter.

Kate saves her sharpest words for when they're alone, communicating two things (1) she likes this man enough that she's willing to risk being alone with him and tell him her truth and (2) he's eager to interact to the point of being willing to take that from her. He's willing to say "why do you hate me?" and truly want to earn her good opinion.

The other kind of banter, the appropriately artful kind, is told indirectly through the competitive games they play. For example: at the horse race she uses talking about horses--and how Anthony has simply chosen the one everyone is choosing--to criticize him for seemingly choosing Edwina simply because the Queen has named her the diamond of this season. But their byplay is all indirect - neither is aiming to wound or publicly humiliate the other. They want to win, but not destroy.

Good "Screwball Comedy" era films (1930s-40s) did Rivals to Lovers this way too - the couple would banter *over something* with subtext going harder but the surface not being too personal - that's the art to good Rivals to Lovers, the delicate balance. It can't feel too much, too mean, or too little.

4 - They are quick to have empathy and compassion for each other. They try to truly listen and see things from each other's point of view. The best example of this, to me, is the end of the pall-mall game - sure, they've been competitive. But Kate shares that she sees herself as a guardian for Edwina, like Anthony is for his sisters. And Anthony not only respects that - he says he sincerely wishes to earn her good favor. For her part, when her parting shot of the ball goes awry, landing near Anthony's father's grave, Kate senses something wrong and cares - she tries to understand how Anthony is feeling and why. She regrets if she "crossed the line" and went too personal - she's aware there IS a line and their rivalry doesn't justify wounding him deeply, even unintentionally. Anthony treats her with the same consideration as well.

This point is VITAL to cross from rivals to lovers - they both want to understand and have compassion and empathy for each other. As they learn more and connect more, the rivalry part wanes (though they'll always love being competitive together - in a sportsmanlike way!) and the desire to connect and understand intensifies. It feels organic as the shift happens because both components have been part of things all along - the urge to compete and the urge to care and understand.

5- They are explicitly paralleled as similar people who have hurt the same way (and tried to cope with that pain similarly). This is true of my favorite EtL ships: the baddie is often symbolically representing part of the goodie or a dark mirror of them etc. RtL often foregoes this so the rival is, like... just some random jerk?? But when they're mirrors or connected on a deeper level, compassion and empathy for the other is compassion and empathy for themselves too - vitally important with two people who don't "listen" to their own hearts like Kate and Anthony. They've buried them deep - but they can "hear" by listening to each other and caring. They can process their own feelings that way and learn self-compassion and self expression.

It's really good and if more Rivals to Lovers was done this well I'd love it! The writing here is certainly a template I'd turn to for inspiration if I ever write an RtL pairing.

#kate bridgerton #kanthony #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #romance #my meta #bridgerton meta

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lovingksuki · 11 months

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✰ SECRET ADMIRER

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

a/n: this is part one of three. let me know if you want this mini series to be continued :) and pls be patient since english is not my first language hehe ;;

word count: 1k

"oh c'mon! what if there's a heart shaped letter in your locker? you never know..."

"there's not."

"you can't be so certain about it. my girl is never looking her surroundings, who knows if someone got their heart pierced by an arrow?" mina pointed.

"shut up, every year the same thing..." you rushed and right after turning the corridor you captured by distance. "ok. maybe you were right." you said finding the metal compartment half closed.

then you grabbed the red paper in her hands, paying attention to the almost dry daisy taped lazily on the front; glanced around not spotting anything or anyone suspicious about it, then turned to your best friend.

"i got a feeling you're part of this." spurred.

"whoa, i was joking just now! even i am chocked. who's the sender?" the pink colored girl held her hands up in protest.

"i don't know, there's only my name." you stated carefully sticking the little flower out.

"let me search for a hint." mina took the letter from your hands suddenly, mumbling while quickly skimming through the words looking for something useful. she gasped before smirking at the content and then continued mumbling.

"enjoying yourself!?" you sighed waiting.

"mkay, done." handed the letter. "nothing between the lines. who wrote this sure is smart enough to not leak their identity."

"that's for me to decide. you ain't the smartest kind." you chuckled.

"hey!"

"more like the pretty girl type."

"you sly thing! you received a love letter, who's the pretty girl again?" both laughed at the statement and headed out to the cafeteria. "not reading it?"

"can't think when i am this hungry. we should hurry."

at the lunchtime the subject was the same. you two were discussing with your mouths full, sitting by yourselves on a table far enough from eavesdropping.

"hear me out. there's this line that seems to be rewritten over and over, it's a bit tattered." you mentioned. "it says: 'i'm still hesitant about what you think about me' and thanks to the pressure they put on paper seems to be 'afraid of who i am' underneath."

"adds a lot of nothing to our investigation. that's what everybody would say in a confession, i mean, nobody likes being dumped." pinky pointed out unfazed.

"yeah but, i don't think it's meaningless, what if this person is truly insecure about themselves." you pondered.

"or they're just ugly." mina chewed on her meal.

"i don't think that's the case... remember when you told me that thing you read about pretty boys' handwriting?" you brought up.

"did you actually believe that!? was just a discussion in a girl's meme forum." the pink one remarked.

"but there's some truth behind it. if you consider that people with a smaller hand can grip on a pen better when writing, also means the ones with big hands tend to have a sloppier handwriting!" you stated confident about your theory.

"girl, you're tripping... does this mean we're going across the school measuring boys' hands?" mina smirked unconvinced.

"precisely."

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

"what a fucking waste of time..." said raging.

"dude, calm down. at least you poured your feelings out..." eijiro reassured his bestfriend trying to point out the bright side of things.

but while he's the bright side, katsuki was the dark side. they say a good relationship is based in balance, in this case it makes total sense.

"you even checked if she read it?" asked the red haired.

"when she and mina walked by me at the corridor they were whispering and giggling like little lambs. probably laughing at that letter though." pouted.

"you're being paranoid, they're always like that."

"they're up to something..." bakugo murmured.

whilst the two struggled to put up with the 'plan cupid', the other two were constructing the 'plan pretty boy's handwriting'.

"as i was saying, a pencil has six inches approximately, we're looking for a hand as big at least. if we measure our hands we can compare with theirs without them noticing." stated grabbing a pen off her case.

"you're truly a genius. i refuse to accept you failed strategic test last week." mina complimented.

"i was in a really bad mood that day... anyway!" justified while traced her own hand in a empty page of mina's notebook. "fifteen centimeters. do yours and we're good to go!" demanded agitated.

when looking for friends of theirs, the girls pretended to just have a walk around the school.

"what if it was a girl?" mina asked suddenly.

"i doubt. how many girls with large hands do we know?" claimed.

"mmm... asui-san?"

"you've got to be kidding...!" pulled her phone and dialed quickly a number. "hey!" you smiled. "no, nothing really urgent, i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?" questioned without any filter.

"girl you gone mad?" mina whispered holding back a laughter.

"uh, ok. anyways, thank you. we talk later, kisses!" you hung up. "see? that's not her."

"woah you're so straightforward! it scares me sometimes..."

the boys exited the restroom still discussing, but when the blondie heard a certain voice he stepped back. pulled eijiro's tie to hide behind a pillar with him. "shut it!" mouthed.

"i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?"

"uh, ok."

his face started to burn as he became more anxious. could only hear a few words, enough to bring the boy into complete state of panic.

after the girls left he released his breath.

"stop overthinking! she just received a love letter, of course she's curious!" kirishima said.

"i didn't say anything, shitty-hair!"

"your face shows!" sighed. "seriously, how can she be so oblivious? just look at you! you're terrible at hiding."

"i- i... she doesn't even talk to me that often..." katsuki pitied.

"bro, you're not the friendliest around here. but she doesn't seem to be afraid of you." kiri pondered. "have you ever tried to smile?"

he looked at the red spiked guy and opened a shy smile.

"a bit more."

every time bakugo tried to put on smiling face it looked creepy. "be more genuine." said eijiro.

trying his best, but even with so much effort... his buddy analyzed. "ok. it looks absolutely terrifying."

"shit."

#mha fanfiction #mha bakugou #mha fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo x reader #self insert #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n

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hawksinacup · 5 months

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RANT ABOUT HAWKS

Thinking about Keigo's wings, and how a lot of people like to base Keigo's wings on a Red-Tailed Hawk. The average wingspan of RT-Hawks are just under 5 feet, and so if we scale it up by about 3.1x (taking the average size of a TRH and matching it as close as possible to Keigo's height.) Then multiply that by the average wingspan, (Lets say 4ft 2inch). Keigo would have a wingspan of around 13-15ft, depending on the size, so about 14ft.

From what we have seen, Keigo soars in the sky, like a Hawk would do. Understanding how a Hawk is able to soar, you would know that it conserves a lot of energy by doing so. We see that Keigo gets bored while flying during work, as its takes so little energy that it would quite literally not require him to concentrate on flying at all. (Theoretically, he could soar the skies effortlessly without even thinking, second nature type shit.) This allows him to use his eyes to scout the ground below, or shift his body during flight.

We also know that Keigo states that he is not powerful, and relies on speed and agility. Keigo can also manipulate his feathers to sharpen them, use them as blades, sense things around him, and pick people or object up. We know his feathers are incredibly strong, specifically the calamus, or quil. If we take that into account, we can theorize that Keigo could probably lift close to a ton with his feathers. We know this because when Hawks rescues the civilians in the collasping building in the nomu fight, he is carrying well over 20 adults (possibly 30-60), the average weight of a human being anywhere from 120-200 lbs. Even as a child, Keigo has saved adults during the high-speed car accident, meaning Keigo's feathers have always been strong.

Knowing all of this, we can safely say, I have no idea where this is going other than Keigo is stupidly fast, smart, and strong. Even if we only see two aspects, his speed and wit, we also get bits of how powerful his wings are.

BY THE WAY, Keigo is stupidly resiliant... He lands on his back, tumbling and recovered within the instant, adjusting his wings for balance as he runs at an inhumane speed, not only backwords, but squated, or knees bent close to 90°, any other hero would more than likely have taken the fall, stayed down for a good while then recovered.

Keigo is also impulsive, manipulative and aware. He can read others better than they think, he states how he is impulsive and can't control himself when he wants something. He snuck his way into Twice's brain along with 95% of the PLF. Keigo is so casual about how he presents himself, that people never notice how alert he is.

Oh and and and, THIS IS IMPORTANT. KEIGOS WINGS ARENT CONSTANTLY SENSITIVE. We knows this because canonically, kids and adults touch and mess with his wings when he deals with his fans. We only see his feathers detect sounds, vibrations, etc. when he concentrates to do so. Meaning he needs a lot of brainpower to "listen in" through his feathers. If they were constantly sensitive, then he wouldn't be able to use them during combat, rescue, or near others.

Thank you for listening to my TED Talk.

(Edit: spelling)

(Side Note: I could keep going, I really could... but if I did this would be stupidly long.)

#mha hawks #keigo takami #bnha hawks #pro hero hawks #hawks bnha #hawks mha #hawks #mha

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kimbappykidding · 1 year

Text

Hot things Ateez do that drive you crazy

Hongjoong - How he speaks about you when you're not there

Some guys like to complain about their girlfriends in front of their friends to maintain a false sense of masculinity. That was not Hongjoong. He really didn't care who knew about his feelings for you and expressed them willingly no matter who we was around...or what state he was in. It was Wooyoung's birthday so all the guys had gone out. You hadn't heard anything from them and then suddenly got a message from Seonghwa that they were outside. You opened the door surprised to see Mingi and Yunho carrying a very clearly drunk Hongjoong. "Y/n!" he cried seeing you and rushed from their arms to yours. "Y/n I missed you so much and I nailed mini golf". "Did you?" you asked "you won?". "No I came second to last but I got it in the pirate ship!" he cried ecstatic and you nodded "wow well done!". The guys helped you get Hongjoong to bed and when he was all tucked up, you thanked the guys for bringing him home.

"Was he much trouble?" you asked. Seonghwa went to say no while Jongho and Wooyoung nodded. You laughed "well thank you for putting up with him, I know he can be a handful sometimes". "Yeah especially when drunk but he was in Y/n mode tonight" San said and you paused "Y/n mode?". "Yeah where he basically just can't stop talking about you" Yeosang explained and when you still looked confused Yunho showed you a video. It was of Hongjoong and he was smiling to himself. "Hongjoong why are you smiling?" you heard Wooyoung ask and Hongjoong smiled more "Y/n likes this song". "Oh yeah?" Wooyoung replied and Hongjoong nodded "she's the best. She's so nice and kind. She's also so smart and her job is so hard but she smashes it. Not to mention she's pretty, she always smells nice and her hair is so soft". The video cut out and Wooyoung smiled "that's when he reached the video limit but it went on a while longer. The guys all nodded and you felt so touched. "And he goes into Y/n mode often?". Mingi nodded "yeah pretty much anytime he gets drunk and you're not there". You blushed "that's so sweet!".

After the guys left you got into bed beside Hongjoong and watched him softly. "Tomorrow you are getting a reward but for now you'll just have to settle for this" and you kissed his forehead. In his sleep Hongjoong smiled and moved closer to you. As if he couldn't be any more adorable.

Seonghwa - How he stands up for you

One of the things you liked most about Seonghwa was how he was the perfect balance between being nice and assertive. He tried to be polite and kind to everyone but if someone tried taking advantage of him or treated him badly, he let them know he wasn't taking it. He was especially good at this when it came to you.

It was your birthday and you'd been planning a weekend away to Japan for ages. He'd told work almost a year in advance and had everything ready. You were leaving from his work as it was closer to the airport and so you arrived with your suitcase and his ready to go. When the guys saw you they smiled "all ready for the trip Y/n?" Yunho asked and the manager looked around. He was a new manager and clearly wanted to make an impression because he'd been really rude ever since he started to try and assert dominance. The manager frowned "oh is that Japan trip this weekend? I need you to come in this weekend Seonghwa". You were a people pleaser so immediately thought this was it, your weekend plans gone but Seonghwa had other ideas. "I can't come in this weekend I'll do next weekend" Seonghwa said in a tone that left little room for discussion but the manager still tried. "No it has this weekend so the trip will have to wait". "No, we've had this planned for a year and the company has known for that amount of time too. It's Y/n's birthday and we're going to Japan". "But this is your career, are you really putting you girlfriend's birthday ahead of your work?" the manager asked in a sneering tone that made you feel bad but Seonghwa just stood up taller. "Put my girlfriend before my job? Every single time and if you disagree with that then we're going to have a problem. Y/n is nothing but supportive of my career. She never complains about the late nights or long working hours. She’s always there to pick me up when I’m sad of give me energy when I’m exhausted so really it's in your best interest to make her happy because she's what makes me happy. So I ask, are we going to have a problem?" Seonghwa asked staring right at the manager! You and the boys all watched awe struck through Seonghwa's speech and waited for the manager's response. Finally the manager looked down "no not at all, have a nice trip" and he left the room. The boys all cheered and you laughed hugging Seonghwa. A little later when you were waiting for the taxi you kissed Seonghwa and he laughed "what was that for?" holding you close. "For fighting for me" you said and he smiled "I'll always fight for you Y/n and I’m going to personally make sure you have an amazing birthday...starting right now" and he gave you an earth-shattering kiss. You didn't doubt his promise for a second.

Yunho - His body

You had a thing for tall guys and had dated a few in your time but none of them even mastered their height like Yunho. He always knew exactly how to style himself or pose in photos. Not to mention he used his body magnificently when dancing. He had such long legs but never looks uncomfortable or awkward. He was meant to be a performer and watching him always reminded you of that. You came to Ateez's training room to meet Yunho after work. You hadn't seen each other in a week and Yunho was working late tonight but asked if you wanted to get a late dinner. You agreed and hurried along the corridor anxious to see Yunho. You found him alone in a practice room and he ran to hug you when he saw you. He engulfed you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you securely against his chest. "I missed you" he said and you smiled "I missed you too" and gently kissed him "you almost done?". He nodded "yeah let me just run through the number once more, can you tell me what you think?". You nodded "sure thing" and got comfy on the floor "hit it". Yunho pressed play and started dancing. When he finished, your jaw had dropped and you stared amazed. Yunho chuckled "so it wasn't terrible then?". The opposite, you were amazing. The way you move your body is just...so hot". Yunho paused and a smile appeared on his face "is it huh?" he asked coming towards you. He gave you a hand to help you up and yanked you close to his body. You nodded "so hot, you roll your hips so well and your legs seem to go on forever, not to mention your face”. You were smirking the whole time so don't pretend you didn't know what you were doing to me". Yunho smiled "I did think you looked like you were enjoying it". "Very much" you nodded playing with the collar of his shirt gently "what time did you book the table for...". "We have an hour to go" Yunho said and you smiled "you so planned this!". Yunho smiled "and? I haven't seen you in a week! That does things to me". "Well you're doing things to me" you replied back and Yunho nodded "that's the plan". Your dinner could wait.

Yeosang - Oblivious to other people flirting with him because he only sees you

Yeosang had a very beautiful face. His eyes were stunning and he looked like some mythical elf or an angel or something. So anywhere you went he tended to attract attention and had lots of people flirting with him. The funny thing is he never noticed because his mind was only on one thing...you. You were both kpop idols and your relationship wasn't public so you couldn't act like a couple at events. However Yeosang would always acknowledge you in some way with a smile or just eye contact until he could come over to you later. You were used to seeing idols check him out or ask him about his muscles (*cough*Soobin*cough*) but tonight the interviewer was really flirting with him. You could tell she was attracted to him just from how she looked at him and how she positioned herself in front of him. Then she directed every question she could to him and must’ve told him he was in shape 5 times in their 2-minute interview. Yeosang clearly had no idea though, he didn't even register she was flirting and just kept thanking her formally. His members were all trying not to laugh and your members were smiling too more than a little proud of your boyfriend. Later at the afterparty all the press was gone and so Yeosang came right over to you and hugged you from behind "how’s the most beautiful girl in the world". You smiled "good, how's the most in shape boy in the world because you’re really in shape Yeosang and I don’t know if anyone's told you that". Yeosang paused "what?" and you laughed "don’t tell you didn’t realise that interviewer said it like 10 times!". He chuckled "the guys mentioned something like that but I didn’t notice! Honestly I kept just listening out for you to speak and was a bit stunned with how amazing you look. You know I can’t speak for like 3 minutes after I see you". You shook your head "you're that type of guy that is so nice and respectful that you just want to rip his clothes off". Yeosang blushed slightly but smiled "well if you really feel that way we can leave early?". You nodded "yes please" and Yeosang nodded "anything my girlfriend wants" and he led you out of the door, his eyes still on you the whole time.

San - His performance skills

San and yourself had been family friends as kids and mainly got along because you both liked performing. You went to dance class together as kids and always enjoyed being on stage together but didn't see each other again until he became an idol and you were hired as his backup dancer. You were thrilled to be working together and quickly resumed your friendship but the second you saw him perform you were in awe. Your number was next so you were waiting in the wings to go on when you heard the fans scream and were confused why. Then you saw San shaking his hips while running his hands down his chest. You'd seen him go for it in practice but this was something else. You'd never seen anyone move like this and the fact he was only wearing a half-intact crop top really helped. You were staring so much that you almost missed your cue to go on and had to be prompted. When you got off stage you felt so warm because dancing with this San was such a turn-on. You were hoping to go get some air but it was the intermission and San followed you. He gently touched your waist and smiled "woah you were so good out there, you looked so hot" he said and you shot him a look "me? I looked hot?". San smirked "why did you find something else hotter?" coming closer to you. His skin was glowing and he looked so good it hurt. You couldn't even lie "you" you replied honestly "you're so sexy" and San smiled. "Really? I happen to find you incredibly sexy too, dancing with you gave me a lot of ideas, fancy going home with me after this and trying them out?". You nodded "very much so" and San smiled "good, try and last through the rest of the show" and with a wink he walked away.

Mingi - Even if he's scared he protects you

Mingi was scared of lots of things and so were you which either made you a perfect couple or a terrible one because you'd both scream if any bug appeared. However Mingi had one great motivator and that was you. If you needed him, his fear went out the window and he only thought of you.

The start of your holiday was off to a shaky start when minutes through walking through the door you spotted an eight-legged “friend” on your jacket. The spider moved and you screamed and so did Mingi. He yelled and hit it off you and then threw a magazine at it for good measure. He then grabbed you and picked you up, carrying you to the other side of the room where he jumped onto the bed still holding you. Only then did he let you down but you both still clutched one another. "Is it dead?" you asked "I can't sleep if it's not". Mingi frowned but he heard the fear in your voice and knew you were telling the truth. So he grabbed some big boots and approached the corner. "Mingi...are you sure?" you asked and he nodded "I just won't think about it". He reached the area and at the count of 3 lifted the magazine. With a war cry that turned into more of a scream, he began attacking the floor. You could see his hands shaking and felt just as scared as him but finally he held up the shoe triumpant "it's dead!" he cried and you cheered running to hug him. Mingi happily accepted you into his arms and you rubbed his arms "you're shaking like a leaf". He nodded "I know". "I can't believe you did that, it was so scary but you were so brave". He nodded "well you needed me" and you melted. "Wow...you’re amazing, you know that". He blushed and bashfully tried to push away your comment but you wouldn't have it. You made him look at you and smiled "you're amazing Mingi, my hero and I love you". Mingi blushed bright red but smiled "love you too" and kissed you. Once you separated he paused "your hero huh?". You smirked "yep want me to prove it to you?". His eyes lit up and he nodded taking your outstretched hand eagerly. This holiday promised to be extremely eventful.

Wooyoung - Endlessly flirts with you

One of the things you loved most about Wooyoung is how he always made you feel beautiful by how he acted around you. You could be doing the most ordinary thing or be wearing something baggy with messy hair and he'd be amazed by you.

You’d recently moved in together and it was such a stressful experience. First you had a work emergency the day you were meant to pack meaning you had to do it all at night. Then the van to move all your stuff never showed up and to top it all off the road leading to your new house was closed. So by the time you'd gotten to your home and moved all the boxes inside were feeling pretty tense and frustrated. You would leave unpacking for another day but had to get the basics running like the fridge and the bed etc. Wooyoung had sorted the fridge and came upstairs to find you finishing off the bed. You'd assembled the frame and were pushing the mattress onto the bed with lots of sighing and a few choice swear words. Wooyoung smiled as the mattress finally admitted defeat and fell onto the frame. You let out a sigh of relief and Wooyoung laughed.

You turned to see Wooyoung watching you and put your hands on your hips "how long have you been watching me fight that thing?". "Only a few seconds but honestly you didn't look like you needed any help". "Yes but some might've been nice" you replied when you frowned "why are you staring at me?". "Because you look so hot" he smiled and you blushed "how? I'm all sweaty and dirty from moving everything". Wooyoung shrugged "In my eyes you’re the most beautiful person I've ever seen and it makes sense. You helped buy this house with me and I did just see you take on an opponent more than double your weight, very impressive". You blushed shaking your head but Wooyoung wouldn’t let up "even the way you roll your eyes is hot, you have such beautiful eyes..." and he trailed off his voice going husky. You turned to him "really?". "Really?" he nodded coming closer to you "but I love every part of you, your eyes, your ears, your cheeks, your hair" he said gently touching each one "and of course your lips" but he used his own lips to press them. You of course kissed him back straight away and unpacking was well and truly left for another day.

Jongho - How effortlessly he hits those high notes

Sometimes you forgot how insanely talented your boyfriend was and then he'd do something amazing to remind you.

It was your sister's wedding and everything was going great until the singer your sister had hired for their first dance got violently ill. It wasn't his fault of course but your sister was freaking out because she'd wanted live music and not a tape. You were unsure what to do when Jongho who'd be calm through all of this spoke up. "I could sing if you'd like?" he asked and you all froze. "I know the song and think I could imitate it" he said "but of course if you'd prefer I didn't that's fine too". Your sister shook her head "no I'd love that thank you so much!".

So Jongho was rushed to the stage to stand with the band and you watched anxiously as the music started but you never should've doubted him. The minute Jongho opened his mouth you relaxed. His voice was so beautiful and smooth it was like honey. You saw your parents smile realising everything was going to be okay and saw your sister and her wife relax. The song was beautiful but challenging, there were several high notes and difficult notes...however Jongho smashed them all. The last note was the highest and he met it wonderfully. The crowd applauded both for your sister and her wife as well as Jongho.

He turned around and clapped the band, not taking any of the applause for himself before stepping down from the stage to come to you. "Good?" he asked you and you shook your head "you're amazing, you did all of that live and without any planning or warm-ups. How are you so talented?". Jongho shrugged "oh it's nothing, any singer could do it". "Yeah but it wasn’t any singer it was you and you saved my sister's wedding". "I wouldn't say saved..." he argued but you shook your head "are you kidding me? My parents will be here any second now to propose for me". Jongho smiled "a proposal huh?" pulling you closer and you wrapped your arms around his neck "they asked not me". Jongho smiled "right..." and before he could ask any more questions you kissed him.

When you separated you held onto him tightly but Jongho wasn’t done. "Maybe I can sing at our wedding too" he whispered in your ear and that's when you lost it and marched him right out of the hall and into your room.

483 notes · View notes

yeyinde · 1 year

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This might sound so cringe and cliche, but I wanna be of help in some way-

how about price faking injuries to see a specific nurse he has a crush on but won’t admit.

Cringe and cliche are quite on brand for me, tbh.

It starts as a concussion, a stiffness in his neck. A pinch in his shoulder.

Then it changes shape, shifting, evolving, into something more. A tenuous dance held together by silken threads. He tugs on the ends sometimes, just to watch little pieces of you begin to unravel. Raw skin, untouched and new bared to his curious eyes.

You’ve thrown him off-kilter, left him feeling strange. All asunder.

He shouldn’t be too surprised by the way you unmoor him so easily. Your eyes swallow the atmosphere around him, eating through gravity. Weightless, he’s left to drift in the aether until you snatch him from the air, leaving him wing-clipped, and kept cupped in the soft swells of your palm.

It’s greed, he thinks. That awful little thing that makes him keep coming back for more.

The helicopter crash did a number of things on him—mild concussion, a fractured rib, sprained wrist; it seemed to have flipped his insides all askew for a moment when he plunged to the earth before somehow righting themselves when he'd landed—but in retrospect, hindsight, whatever, it could have been a lot worst.

A fact Gaz seemed to have picked up on quicker than he had when they'd met in the medical bay together, holding their broken bodies with trembling hands.

(Or maybe threaded together by a statuette of Nefertem laced in the fibres of their hearts.)

"What's this now," Gaz asked when he limped in, knee smarting without the surge of adrenaline keeping him upright. Mirth rolling through his teeth, ge offered Price a fractured grin that very likely might have been a grimace. "Two for two? Might be a sign, cap…"

"A sign for what?"

Gaz shrugged, pressing tender fingers against the gash on his forehead. "Stay the fuck out of helicopters. Take the bloody bus instead."

There's a retort in the back of his throat, but it's swallowed when you walk in, hands gripping a medical bag between blanching knuckles. He's closest to the door, and you turn to him with an air of pensive uncertainty that nudges the spot inside of him that preens under authority. That likes law, order, and the simplicity of life. A natural-born leader. He plays the part, of commander and captain, and dips his head toward Gaz, a silent motion meant to convey him first.

The always in that is ironclad, he thinks. Brassbound. Even if he was bleeding out on the pavement. His men, his boys, first.

Except, he catches Gaz doing the same thing toward him. A stalemate, then.

You're new, he notes; ears still wet, face still green. He braces himself to step in, to lay down the authority you need before you flounder, unsure what to do, but instead of being met with uncertainty, he finds himself breathing in your ire.

"Well, heroes," you snip, brow pinching together in displeasure. "One of you has to go first, don't you? So while I put my stuff on the table, I expect you to have figured it out amongst yourself, yeah?"

And it's—

It's something.

A strand of static in the air. Direct current to his heart. It thuds in a strange murmuration, off rhythm, off balance. But it makes sense. You'd thrown him so wildly off kilter.

He clears his throat of the soot that congeals the back, and nods once. Sharp and jerky.

"Right, yeah…"

Price turns to Gaz, brows pinched in the middle. A messy bow.

It isn't like him to be so askew, but you turned everything upside down before he could familiarise himself with the world in its right state. He's adrift for a moment. Floundering, he notes, tasting something sweet behind his teeth.

Gaz meets his eyes somewhere in the fog, the furrow in his brow asking the questions he won't voice aloud—you alright, cap?—but he isn't sure what he's meant to say. Everything feels like it was knocked loose inside of him, left to roll off shelves and clatter to the floor. Disorganised chaos. Awash. Lost in tangled webs. He isn't used to this. To feeling so useless, so askew.

He later finds it just the concussion warping the edges of his mind, turning his thoughts into a slurry. That the mild part was an oversight, one that was immediately corrected by you—firm fingers holding his chin still, nails scratching against his beard as you peered into his eyes with a clinical air of detachment that shouldn't have made his heart beat as loud as it was.

You smell of summer rain. The musk of water on a hot pavement. He breathes it in until it's clogging the back of his throat, so thick he can almost taste it. So heavy, so heady, his head swims. Ozone. Charred wood. War tucked in a bottle.

The soft fingers against his pulse was a shock, made potent by the little curl of your brow when you counted the beats per minute and found they were much too fast. He isn't embarrassed. Doesn't think he has it in him anymore to feel that way, but there's a sense of frustration in the back of his mind as you move around him, commandeering him with an ease that leaves him feeling a little breathless.

"You're concussed," you say at last, lips pitching downward as you read his charts, the scrawl left behind by the nurse who'd seen him earlier. The one who promptly sent him to you. "And it isn't mild."

With that, and a list of things he ought to do (non-negotiable), you send him on his way. Gaz, too. Fixed up with gauze and made shiny and new.

Soap asks why he's so quiet later when they meet for a debriefing later on (one that he knows is definitely on the list of things you told him not to do), and has to stop the rip current from spilling past his lips.

"He's concussed," Gaz supplied, narrowed eyes clipping the side of his face when it lands; a physical blow. "Doc said he needed rest. But good luck telling him that."

"Don't need rest," he grumbles. There's a blossom of pain in his temple. A little sapling that flourishes under the waning sunlight. "'M fine."

They don't believe him, but the debriefing is too short to push him to lay down, and he spends the next hour pretending he's not seeing shadows in his periphery. That the words on the pages don't bleed together.

(That the scent of Petrichor doesn't glue to the back of his throat.)

When the hurt in his head dims, he finds his thoughts drifting back to you. Meek and unassuming. A wolf in sheep's clothing. It lingers long after the meeting has ended and he's ushered to the barracks for rest. Home tomorrow, Gaz promises on the tail end of yawn. Gonna sleep for a whole year, I think.

Aye, gonna head home in the morning, Soap murmurs, but his eyes don't stray from the corner where Ghost leans, chin dipped low to his chest.

(Price wouldn't put it past him to be asleep already.)

They tell him to get some sleep, dressing the worry in their voice as a friendly admonishment, and he takes it as it is.

But rest doesn't come.

He's curious about you. The little hellion that managed to snatch him clean from the air, and cup him in the palm of your too-small hands.

(He wants to feel it again.)

It begins as idle curiosity.

Price is a large man full of bulk and grit. The snarls in his throat command authority, respect. He isn't used to feeling so wing clipped, sidelined, and he blames that on why he seeks you out.

A pinch in his shoulder. His chest feels swollen around the broken rib. His knee hurts. There's an ache in his throat. A throb in his kidneys.

Each time is met with the same stern expression, firm hands. You commandeer him around the room, dragging out the ailments with ease that always seems to leave him off-kilter and breathless.

He realises what it is the fourth time he comes to your office, exacerbating some mild pain.

You take up space. All of it. Any crevasse, or corner is immediately filled by you. You have this presence about you that is so at odds with the meek façade you carried on your countenance like an ill-fitting mask when he'd first laid eyes on you.

You're an enigma, a paradox. A riddle begging to be solved. He wants to take you into his hands and pull you apart until your insides are bared to him, true and real, and known.

He's met people like you in his lifetime. Leaders in roles that don't fit them. He thinks you belong in worn pages of history, tucked behind a desk as you commandeer the world around you with firm hands and a gnarled smile instead of standing before him, musing softly at whatever ailments he throws your way.

Despite his plethora of issues, you tackle them all with an air of severity and seriousness that he finds kinship in, touching softly at the twined mass that writhes before him. The cuts in your gaze are made from the same shorn razor as his, and he wants to see what's behind that ill-fitting mask.

He wants to see you slip.

But you don't.

Tongue between teeth, clenched so hard that blood blooms and swells in the tip, you keep everything locked tight to your chest, and usher him out with pantomime remedies to heal his farcical hurts.

Price isn't sure why he keeps going—curiosity, maybe. An attraction that cracks like lightning striking through his chest. A gale of turbulence that leaves him seaswept and standing on shaking knees. He doesn’t know what to do with the kinetic energy that buzzes in his veins, begging to be free, and so he tests. Pulls and tugs at the seams that keep you spooled tightly together just to see that fissure that once split across your face, leaking fury and fire into the air until it ripped through his nerves, an electrical fire, and set him alight from the inside out.

(He finds he likes the way it hurts.)

As much as he tugs, he finds he likes it when you pull back.

"Should be careful," you coo, and the syrupy sweetness of your voice sparks against some dormant part of his mind. "You seem to have a lot of bad luck when it comes to ailments."

He shrugs. "Just unlucky."

"Or you're being cursed."

"Oh, yeah?" He hums. "Could be."

You offer a flimsy smile, but it’s enough to soothe the ruffle through his plumage.

"What's your name?" He asks, fingers plucking at the gossamer that sits between you, unsettled by the quiver in his chest.

The smile you flash at him is all teeth. "Sekhmet."

Laswell doesn't ask why when he requests your records, but he senses the confusion in her voice when she calls.

"All of them?"

He grunts in response.

"I vetted them personally, John… but," there's a shuffle in the background. Boxes sliding on linoleum. She's overseeing the tearing up of Shepherd's office, and this minute request suddenly turns his stomach sour. "Fine. If that's what you want."

"It's just—"

He isn't quite sure what to say. He was weakened and flummoxed by the world around him. You turned the tipping axis on its head, leaving him feeling asunder.

"Heard they were quite rough with you," she teases, an olive branch. An excuse. "Bossing around the boss. Is this what it's about?"

He scoffs, then, and only feels an inkling of pain. "No, Laswell. And I wasn't bossed around."

"Manhandled?"

It gives him pause. That feeling from before swells in his chest. Soft hands against his talons, clipping his wings.

"No," he mutters, but the airiness of his voice gives him away.

Laswell, in a feat of mercy, just hums. "They're good, John. Good for this team."

Good for you, she doesn't say. John thinks she doesn't have to. He hears it, anyway.

There are cracks inside of him, ones made from the chipped clay that once concealed an unslaked black hole.

You fill space, he thinks.

He isn’t surprised to find you fill the gaps inside of him, too.

He goes again, but this time it’s real. A bullet grazed his shin, deep enough to warrant stitches, and finds you waiting for him with that clipboard pinched between your hands.

The look on your face gives him pause. It’s pulled taut, coiled like a defensive viper, but where he expects the same clinical efficiency and detached airs, he instead is met with a palpable sense of uncertainty—too much, he thinks, like the first time you walked into the room, unsure and wobbling on unsteady feet.

His heart thunders under your prying gaze. “Need some stitches,” he says, if only to fill in the terse silence that settles over the room, hushed and aggrieved.

“Right,” you echo, eyes dropping to the blood that runs in streaking rivulets down his leg.

And you say nothing else after, working quietly as you knit skin back together and sponge the drying blood from the wry thatch of curls that blanket his shin.

Price takes in the paleness of your lip, pinched tight against your clenched teeth. The deep ravine that cuts a line between your brows, heavy with shadows and flooded in some strange amalgamation of anger—potent enough that he can catch the embers in the air on his tongue—and this uncharacteristic sense of disquiet that makes your shoulders tense, your hands slacken. The firm, sure touch is gone—replaced, instead, with clouded unease—and you no longer commandeer him around the room, catch him from the air and manoeuvre him to your fanciful whims. You nudge, now. Soft utterances; requests.

You don’t move space to fit yourself between the brackets. You linger in the periphery.

He isn’t accustomed to this, and the hesitancy in your brow needles behind his ribs, pinching and pushing until he’s left feeling that same, strange sense of weightlessness as before. But where you led him around by the tip of his ears, he finds himself unmoored.

(He likes the loss of control, but only when it’s tethered to your hand.)

His wound is patched up, skin knitted together with silken black lines that cut a neat crisscross through his tumid skin. There is no reason to linger, despite the weight on his tongue urging him to speak.

But you strike first, catching him at the door.

"Is there a problem?" You ask, words stripped bare, and masticated between clenched teeth. Reluctance is a heavy weight on your brow when he turns to you, as if you don't want to ask, but are compelled to. Forced to.

It's the first time he's felt any sense of control around you. He stretches his wings.

"Problem?" He echoes, and tucks his hands beneath his arms. Steadying his stance. Preparing for the fight.

You mimic his pose, but grab the knobs of your elbows between tense fingers instead. There's fire in your eyes. The room fills with smoke.

"You asked for my papers."

The meagre file tucked away in his cabinet spoke of your accomplishments in the same detached, clinical distance as one of the many façades you adopt. It listed your education, your former employment, and your accolades in Times New Roman, all standard affairs. Impressive, of course, but he found it all to be quite lacklustre.

It didn't mention the firmness of your fingers when you take his pulse or commandeer him to your liking. It said nothing about the paralysing weight in your gaze, vipers tucked in the corners of your eyes when he meets your stolid authority with his own fiery wrath.

(Or the softness of your cheeks when you try to hide a smile. The admonishing pinches made in jest when he says something that distracts you from your task.)

"I did."

"Okay," you breathe heavily through your nose. "Why?"

"Is there any reason why I shouldn't?"

"You just—" another breath. He has the peculiar urge to syphon the next directly from your lungs, to taste your air on his tongue. "You come here, week after week, with some—illness, and just—"

"Just what?"

"If you have a problem," you say at length, eyes flashing. "You could have come to me? One on one. I would have—"

"A problem?" He singles the word out, tossing it back at your teeth. “I don’t have a problem.”

You laugh, but it's scathing. "Are you undermining me? Is this—hazing?"

“Hazing? No,” he shakes his head, chasing the tail end of your derision. “Consider this vetting.”

And there it is—that fissure. Heat pops from the lavascape, spilling down the split of your lips.

“Right.” You snip, shaking your head. “Well, I hope I met your expectations, Price.”

He huffs, then. The noise is a broken facsimile of a laugh forced through crooked teeth. “Of course you do.” The pinch in your brow wobbles. “Wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, love.”

He rents the air with his admission, splits the seams of this tenuous dance you make each week he shows up, speaking of some phantom pain ripped the pages of the textbooks that sit, worn and well-loved, on the shelves behind your desk.

You say nothing when he leaves.

(Or when he rests a piece of himself on the doorframe—a glossy feather from his primary remiges just for you.)

He doesn’t go for the next three weeks, but it isn’t cowardice that drags him away from this oddly shaped choreography. He’s caught in a storm halfway across the world with sand in his hair, and the curve of your confusion nudged between the fibrils of his chest.

In the softness of night, he wonders what you've done with his clipped feather.

Price meets you at the beginning, but this time, he stands in the medical bay with firm knees, and a clear head. Searching, seeking.

The thread vibrates, and he finds you with your back to him, doling out gentle, firm, commands to the medical staff congregated around you. Clinging to your breathy orders with the same listless uncertainty that makes his chest swell with the urge to lead whenever it's rested on his shoulders.

He isn't sure if you can feel the reverberations through the thread, the leftover sutures from when you weaved a needle over the cut on his forearm, and accidentally sewed a piece of yourself into his skin, or if it's just the heavy weight of his gaze burning brands into your back that draws your attention.

(It certainly garners enough from the staff around you, their flighty eyes flickering from the mountain of a man seething at your back, to you—feigning obliviousness as he strips you bare beneath his glacial gaze, cutting a path to your membrane where he knows he'll find the piece of himself that you snipped off months ago.)

When you finally turn, you give a peculiar look over your shoulder, eyes clouded over, gaze inward. He watches you for a moment, taking in the curve of your cheek, the slope of your nose. Foreign, of course; but familiar under the cloak of darkness and the hail of gunfire.

The fire still burns in your unreachable depths, but the embers are smouldering. He feels the heat even from this distance, but when you return from whatever thoughts were racing through your head, he finds the look that fixes itself there to be strange. Pensive.

A quiet contemplation as you take in the length of his shoulders, the width of his chest.

His heart hammers against the cages of his sore ribs, leaping to the base of his throat where it pulses like a raw wound.

The whole of his body smarts like a massive contusion—muscles bending at odd angles, bones brittle—but he knows in an instant that he won't mention it to you. He'll tuck the hurt aside. Let it moulder. Let it rot.

This thing between you—crafted from the design of his heart—has been pulled and pinched, flexed and stretched too taut. It's ready to snap. To break.

He waits for that moment, bracing himself for the inevitability of the recoil clapping him against the chest, but it doesn't happen.

You give a small dip of your chin.

Then, you're gone.

You've been moulding him between form hands since the beginning, moving him around however you please.

So, it just feels natural when he follows.

This time it's his chest.

You go through the same dance, steps known. Ingrained in muscle memory. Your hands are firm, authoritative as you lead him on this little chase, pushing and pulling, tugging on the threads that keep him sewn up and whole.

But an incipient path is born. A new routine. The hand on his cheek, as you read his temperature, lingers, thumb brushing over the dividing line that separates skin from wry curls.

The touch is familiar. You’re no strange to feeling around the phantom aches and pains he presents to you, but this is an electric shock that rattles through his nerves. The trail your thumb leaves behind as it strokes idly at his skin prickles and burns. Goosebumps rise, creating cresting hills and peaks along his topography. You map it all with nimble fingers, firm and sure.

You take the thermometer out of his mouth after a moment, not even pretending to read the results (thirty-seven degrees, always), and it’s tossed back on the tray quickly before your hand returns to his skin, drawn there by that same innate pull he feels in his iron bones. The warmth of your palm threatens to suffuse his skin, mated together in ferromagnetism.

His chin rests, plinthed in your palms, and there’s a sudden swell, a rush, that gorges on his heart. The façades fall, clattering to the ground. The broken pieces lay in remains by his feet.

Price doesn’t spare them a glance.

Can’t, maybe, because in azimuth he finds that solidary feather he plucked for you resting between your teeth.

Wonderment. Awe. He feels the surge of something ripping through his body—a paroxysm—but he can’t look away from the shapes of your bare face; the imperfect asymmetry, the wrought iron lines, the convulsing atoms. It’s mesmerising.

And maybe it’s an electrical phenomenon—no let go—but he doesn’t spare it a single thought, even as the current burrows deeper into his chest, igniting his tissue until red-hot, blistering, charred. Even then, even with the scent of smouldering, necrotising flesh brimming cloyingly into his scenes, the absolute apathy he feels for himself at that moment is a testament to the unshakeable draw, that primal magnetism that glues him to you; met in perfect equilibrium in the middle.

It’s you who moves, who splints the poles until they fall apart when you let your hand drop.

But you’re not finished. The tips of your fingers move, a long peregrination down the twisting, sloping topography of his visage; snaking down his temple, the dip of his nose, the rough bushel of curls, the soft pout of his lips, the ulotrichous hair along his cheek and jaw, the long decline of his check, the ridged of his collarbones, the swell of his chest. It’s there where it lingers, fingers spreading like webs along the birdcage of his thundering heart.

Price watches you, rapturous and nearly choking himself on the avarice that spills from his heaving lungs.

You rest the flat of your palm there for a beat; lost in perambulation. Feasting on the thud of his heart.

He thinks you’ve had your fill. Quenched yourself.

But when you look up from the slight tremor of your hand, pulsing in time with his hurried beats, the look in your eyes is distinctly unslaked.

(—and he can’t stop the rumble from spilling out of his chest at the sight.)

Price isn’t sure how long you stay like that. Minutes, seconds, hours. Aeons might have passed since you let your mask slip. Since he plucked at threads keeping it upright. But he shakes back into cognisance when you pull away, cutting through space and time, and filling the gaps once more with the heavy weight of your presence.

“You’ll be fine,” you say over your shoulder, reaching for your clipboard. “A little rest is all you need, captain.”

There’s an insurmountable number of things he can say, but you press on his throat, and he swallows them down, nodding at your back instead.

The cloven strands fall around him, broken with distance. There’s an urge in his bones to sew back into his skin, to press them like drying flowers into the folds of his heart where they’ll say, nurtured on his blood and suffused into his being. He rests his laurels on it for a moment, feels the weight of his want, his desire, and compares it to the fraying wisps dragging along the linoleum.

But he doesn’t reach for them.

He is wing clipped and flightless. You hold the only feather that gives him lift between the monoliths of your teeth.

A fine place to keep it, he thinks and turns around, ready to leave on unsteady feet, but—

"Seven," you say, firm and sure. No nonsense. But when he turns, he catches the pallor of your knuckles gripped tight around the clipboard. You hold it to your chest like a shield. The vipers in your eyes quiet their hissing, tongues lashing out to scent the air. "There's this place in Manchester that makes the best Beef Suya."

You're not asking him.

(But you don't really have to, do you?)

His lips pull up. He catches the drifting threads in his bare palm. "Manchester, mm?"

"I hope you like a little bit of spice."

"I can handle the heat."

You swallow thickly, and he thinks the action on anyone else might be easily mistaken for nerves, but the livewire that pulls taut between you thrums with a heavy sense of anticipation.

"I hope so, John," he startles at the mention of his name. It makes your lips curl back, and he shouldn't find it so mesmerising when can't tell if it's a smile or a sneer. "Otherwise I'd be quite disappointed."

His chin dips to his chest. It renders his voice to little more than smoke and ash, but you shudder from across the room at the growl.

"Wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

It isn't breathless when you speak, but he licks his lips and tastes the pulsing excitement that sparks in the air. It curls in his lungs. Saltwater on burning coals.

"Don't be late."

It's a promise, he thinks; a warning, too. A threat. "Wouldn't dream of it, love."

He turns away from you, shielding the growing smile from your searching gaze, but your voice stops him short at the door, fingers curled around the frame.

“And Price?”

“Yes, love?” He calls, featherlight in a way he hasn’t felt since he was eighteen and free. Ready to soar, to fly.

"You know," you say, brows knotting together. Despite the severity of your expression, there's a note of playfulness between your teeth. "If you wanted to see me, you could have just asked."

After dinner, they fucked so nasty that Qadesh could be heard gagging across the aether.

#u ever just write a thing and then realise there's something fundamentally wrong with u on an atomic level? cause hey that's me #no one asked for Sekhmet x Ptah but my god did i tackle that task as if my life depended on it #John Price x Reader #Captain Price x Reader #Price x Reader #ughghghghg #i feel like that kid who just stares point blank at the barrel of a gun and says “shoot me”#i kinda just wanted an mc who was like #oh you big man lemme manhandle YOU #and i did it #maybe

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existentialgaybirdnerd · 3 months

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2 and a half PhDs

It was a sweltering day when Soap found out about how smart his LT really is.

The only thing anyone had taken notice of all day was how miserable they were, how unfairly hot the weather was, how shit the food in the mess hall was for such a miserable day.

That's all that had been talked about in the Taskforce 141 rec room, how much Gaz and Soap would kill to have a better cooling unit or someone to blot out the sun for like 5 minutes so they can cool down even a little, how stupid it would be for Ghost to be wearing his mask on what is probably the hottest day of their LIVES.

And then, like the devil, speak of him and he shall appear. Ghost walks into the room holding a couple of heavy-looking books and a notebook.

Soap briefly entertains the thought that Ghost has been abducted and replaced. The glare sent at him when he says something snarky about wearing a balaclava in this heat puts that thought to rest quickly.

Without saying a word to either of them, Ghost situates himself at the nearby table set, sets down his heavy books, arranges his notebook in a way only he can make sense of (on top of one book while the other is turned open to the left of it???), and starts writing something from the book on the left into the notebook with his brows obviously furrowed underneath the material of his mask.

No one says anything for a few minutes, tense silence filling up the space as Soap and Gaz find their balance with this new dynamic of Ghost being near enough to touch but still untouchable in the softest manner they've seen him yet.

Ghost gets out his phone after a moment, typing something quickly and looking back and forth between the notebook and the phone, then scribbling over his most recent sentence and writing something short in the book he was writing from.

"What's that?" Soap decides to break the silent spell, curiosity getting the better of him as Ghost looks more and more miffed at the open book to his left.

"Astrophysics, although I guess it's too old. A sentence or two on this page are completely wrong, I didn't notice that when I bought it." Ghost replies in the longest non-mission sentence he's spoken to them, barring the string of puns and jokes he spouted at Soap in Las Almas, his tone betraying his anger at the information stored in the book.

"Why in the bloody hell do you have an astrophysics book? And why are you taking notes from it, especially if it's so old that some data is wrong?" Gaz decides to be the next to break the short silence after that revelation, shifting in discomfort when Ghost looks up at him from beneath his heavy brow.

Looking closer at the book Ghost has in front of him, they can visibly see how old it is based on the frayed cloth-like texture of the cover and the faded pale-green color of said cover.

Instead of an answer, Ghost just shuts the book, shifts his notebook on top of it, and switches the positions of the two big books.

The two on the couch get a better look at the second book than the first when he props it up against the astrophysics book to look something else up on his phone, a good portion of the open front cover peeking over and to the side of the other book and the notebook, boasting the words "Philosophy 101" in black and yellow print with multiple drawings of well-known figures and a "The Thinker" statue picture.

Gaz and Soap look at each other in confusion, turning back to the man at the table as he makes an approving noise and flips to the back of the book to look at something, then grab the notebook from behind his current book and flip to a different page than he was writing on earlier, noting something short down.

"Everything alright?" Soap manages to get out through his rising confusion, not understanding what Ghost is doing with these books, much less taking notes on them.

"Yeah, this one's within 10 years of relevancy, so it's fine, I shoulda checked before I bought them." Ghost turns back to the front page as he says this, then reads something and picks out a page to turn to, jotting something else down on the same note page.

At this moment, Price walks in, effectively stopping Gaz from continuing in the interrogation he was about to start in on.

Price looks between the men on the couch and the man at the table, seeming to make up his mind about something before zeroing in on the books on the table. "Oh, Simon, good. I was about to ask if you're busy today so we can go over some details Laswell sent me, but I guess you're working again huh?"

At the nod he's given, Price just sits down sideways at the table and says nothing else, further confusing the two occupants of the couch as he brings out his own phone and starts seemingly texting. No follow up to that statement. No other statements to follow.

"Ok, seriously, what's happening right now?" Gaz inquires, tone veering into almost panicked and almost angry, confusion morphing the longer he goes without answers to this very bizarre chain of events.

"Simon's studying-" as an afterthought, and cutting himself off, Price turns to Ghost more fully from his slumped position on his own chair "right? I'm not misinterpreting that?" a gesture at the books on the table clarifies his use of "that" despite not necessary.

"Yeah, been bored lately, thought I would finally go for my third." Ghost's response hangs in the air as Price turns back to his sideways position and gestures to Gaz in a "there you go" way, leading to more confusion on behalf of the two sergeants.

"Very clear, thank you sir" Soap grits out between clenched teeth, impatience showing. "I would like to clarify: a third what?"

"Degree" is clipped from the table as Ghost goes to shut the book, impatience brimming from him as well. "You didn't think I was stupid did you?"

"No sir" The surprise of the answer and the accusation bleeds the tension out of Gaz in a second.

"I wouldn't expect any less than a degree or two from you, but you two are being vague about the whole thing, would it kill you to give a detail or two so we don't have to keep asking questions about what you're talking about?" Soap's irritation ebbed at the surprise as well, but he hung onto the confusion of the interaction "Since you're working on a third degree, what subjects are the others in? What subject is this one in, actually?"

Ghost tenses at the question, never quite ready to reveal information about himself and get closer to those he doesn't want to die because of him. He untenses and locks eyes with Price when he feels a boot hit his shin, a comfort to let him know that Price is there to clean up any mess Ghost may make. Like he always has been.

"My first PhD is in astrophysics, although I don't have my textbooks anymore and don't remember quite a bit of what I learned. Too many concussions. My second PhD is in aerospace engineering, I decided that knowing about space wasn't enough, building stuff to get us there was the next logical step." A pause to take a breath and determine if he lost his audience.

At the astonished nod from both men on the couch, he continues.

"Now I'm getting my PhD for philosophy, because apparently inconsistent and confusing things are an interest. Questions answered now?"

Soap stands up and points an almost accusing finger at Ghost, "You just told us you have two and a half PhDs, and you're in the military? For what?"

"Personal reasons Johnny, it doesn't matter much now anyway."

A scoff follows this statement, a hand gesturing to the books on the table. "You're obviously smarter than you give yourself credit for ever, so I think it kind of matters. I won't pry though. I'm just glad you've got something going for you that isn't 100% military."

At the shrug he gets for this, Soap just shakes his head and sits down. "Really, I shouldn't even be surprised at anything you do anymore."

Before the discussion can devolve any further into the topic of Ghost, Price makes a noise of interest at his phone, quickly turning it to Simon to see, whose eyes quickly grow round and wide as he grabs his own phone and dials a number. Ghost gathers his things and stands with them in his arms as the call seems to connect, excitement in his movements. He's halfway down the hall by the time the two sergeants gather themselves up from their stupor and shoot questioning glances at Price.

"Black hole was photographed, he really likes space" is the answer given as Price shows them a news article about said photo, then stands up to walk out himself.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty ghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #soapghost #it's subtle but there #call of duty #john price #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty price #call of duty gaz #Smart Ghost #I suck at dialogue #someone help me #snippet #birdnerd ideas

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tornadeoqueen · 2 months

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Really have been in such a bad funk lately so fuck it, here is a list of things about Twisters that I love in no particular order:

that scene where Tyler and Kate are explaining how a tornado forms and the scene cuts between the two of them so it’s like a seamless line of dialogue/they are so in sync each other. Taking about weather with the same reverence that’s soulmatism.

“Ohkay uniform. Wrinkle free shirt. Crisp hat!”

That the wranglers and storm par crew cross paths so often they know each others names enough to rib at each other (and wranglers having the time of their lives competing against them)

When that one storm par guy yells “chase it!” because he’s secretly a Tyler Owen’s fan

Tyler’s truck driving across a field towards the first tornado looking like a cross between Mater from Cars and a horse galloping like yeehaw “it’s like the Wild West out here!” They saw the opportunity and they took it

That his truck is red!!!! And I know people are tempted to be like “he inherited Bill’s truck” but let’s not forget Bill’s truck got eaten by an EF5 and I don’t think it made it out like Tyler’s did

KATE’S BARRELS (never not over KATES’S BARRELS)

I wanna know more about Dani and Dexter’s friendship. Dexter being all “there’s a name for that there’s a name for that” and Dani’s like “just enjoy it, man!” I just know they balance each other out

“We’re driving into a tornado for gods sakes”

The way Tyler is immediately smitten and recognises how smart Kate is and like that’s why he likes her so much?? Like yeah she’s pretty but she’s pretty BRILLIANT You can tell he’s just like “wow I have met my match”

Kate giving it back to him and not falling for his charm so easily - there’s a fire/cheekiness in there

When Tyler’s heart of gold/the real Tyler starts to show away from the cameras and it’s just Kate and Tyler testing Kate’s theories but Tyler is still 100% himself like his persona is not all bravado he still wants to send things up in rockets and drive into tornadoes like that’s just who he is and when it’s away from the cameras it’s kind of dorky dude

Frankenstein playing in the cinema in El Reno and Doctor Frankenstein yelling “it’s alive!” Right before the wall of the cinema is ripped off

Also while I’m on that, that the wall that gets ripped away is the wall with the screen, making the storm outside in some sense the movie wow I just thought about that. Art imitating life or whatever the ultimate 4D experience (reminds me of sound and light shows ok I’m digressing)

“She’s your story, Ben.”

Hanging out and sitting on the truck having lunch and staring at clouds I need 1000x fics about this

When they rustle the team together to get Kate’s theories in motion with the whole team and everyone is immediately on board and defers to Kate as to why they need a trailer ect

Addy: “you’re no fun since you got hit by lightning” I WANT THE STORY

The Tornado Wrangler belt buckle 😭

Ok this list is getting long but anyway the movie isn’t perfect but it’s fun and I’m glad it makes me happy in this way

#twisters #could go on for ages tbh

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numinously-yours · 1 month

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Free Tarot Reading: Why did X happen?

Today's free reading is going to look deeper at why something in your life happened. I am answering the following questions:

What is X?

Why did X happen?

How can/did you grow from X?

Choose an X above and find your group below the cut:

What is X? Knight of Swords

You may have started a project and, in the middle of it, it abruptly ended. You thought you had all of the resources you needed – money, people to back the project, a solid plan – so when it ended it was really disappointing. You’re not quite sure what went wrong or why the project couldn’t get off the ground. The main point of concern keeps coming back to the people. Why did people decide to stop investing?

Why did X happen? Seven of Cups rev.

At some point during this project, there were too many cooks in the kitchen. Since it was your idea originally, you took the reigns back and decided to make executive decisions. While this isn’t always a bad thing, it feels like people may have stepped back from working with the project because they didn’t feel their voices being heard. Additionally, there were a lot of short term goals as the project was getting starting rather than looking at the bigger picture, so the small things didn’t necessarily add up to reaching the ultimate goal.

How did/can you grown from X? Ace of Swords rev.

This situation is helpful for you as you move forward with other big ideas (or even if you try this one again!). You are excited about ideas so you want to get them off the ground, but this can be a reminder that taking time to plan is just as important as the execution of the plan. Create SMART goals (specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time-bound), allow others to provide feedback, and find a balance between leading and collaborating. Something else that you may have/can learn from this is to wait on announcing ideas until you have a rough draft. It may have been too early in the planning stages of the original project and that made it asier for a lot of opinions to be thrown around. Come in with an outline/structure which allows for some movement, ideas, and opinions, but isn’t a complete blank slate.

What is X? Six of Swords & Page of Cups rev.

There is/was someone in your life who was holding you back. You are inspired, full of ideas and plans for the future, and have always been someone who’s been able to move forward. Someone came into your life and once they did, you felt dragged down. This person has an immature nature about them. They are a bit narcissistic and childish, but think they are mature and know what they are talking about. It has become incredibly frustrating for you. You feel like you have to put your needs on the back burner in order to avoid chaos. For some of you, you may have distanced yourself from this person for a while, but now they are coming back into your life and you don’t know what you are doing to do. You’ve finally gotten back into your groove – will they mess it up again?

Why did X happen? Knight of Wands rev.

Although frustrating, this person came into your life because the delays in your progress were necessary. Whatever you were trying to achieve at the time where they swooped in and paused your work was not going to be successful if you were to have finished it then and there. I feel like my mom when I say that this also happened to “build character”. In a less annoying sense (for me lol), this person was there to teach you patience – not necessarily patience in people, but in not achieving your goals as quickly as you want. Without this person, there would have been risk of impulsiveness and built up energy.

How can/have you grown from X? Three of Pentacles

On a personal level, having this person in your life will ultimately help you appreciate other people who come into your life. Knowing that the person came into your life to help delay progress may help you see people on another level. “There is a reason this person came into my life. Let’s find out why.” It doesn’t mean you have to enjoy spending time with them, lol, but it will help it be less frustrating when the people around you are frustrating.

Regarding the goal(s), it has been aided in growth by the delay. Now that more time as passed, you will be more objective, have a more solid plan, and know where you can get resources to help it flourish.

What is X? Two of Cups

This has “the one who got away” energy for me. Whether it was a romantic partner or a platonic friendship, someone who you loved and had a great partnership with isn’t in your life anymore. You’re wondering what the point was for this person to bring beauty to your life just for it to be ripped away.

Why did X happen? The Lovers & Nine of Swords

They came into your life because you deserved to know that this type of love exists. You deserve to know that, even in your darkest moments, you are loveable and worth the effort. This person was likely the first person in a long time that you were able to be vulnerable with. You learned how to trust again. You learned how to communicate. In terms of why they had to leave, I think it’s as simple as they weren’t meant to be. It’s not an easy answer to accept and it still probably doesn’t make sense. But the time that you had together really shaped you to be successful in new relationship(s) to come.

How can/have you grown from X? Eight of Wands rev. & Ace of Wands

This relationship is bringing you back to the root of YOU. It has probably started already. There are days you doubt your worth because the person did leave, but each day it gets easier to remind yourself that you are worthy. This person has lit a fire under you to live your life for yourself because you finally know that you deserve good things. They showed you the potential that relationships can have and that you have within them. You can move forward from this relationship with optimism for the future.

What is X? The Tower & King of Wands

Your X was a huge tower moment for you. There was sudden change followed by chaos. Everything that you knew was turned upside down. You had a plan for your future. You could visualize opportunities ahead and see the steps to get there. It feels like you’re expected to build the tower back up but there aren’t any directions to tell you how.

Why did X happen? Justice

I’m not being told exactly what happened that caused the tower moment, but it seems like the actions that were being taken were not in your highest good or the highest good of others involved. Unfortunately, the collapse of the tower was the consequences to those actions. Someone did not stand by decisions that they made and left everyone to their own devices. There was a missing level of ethicality and fairness.

How can/did you grown from X? Knight of Pentacles

This knight is the hardest working knight in the deck. They are methodical and driven. They may not be the most creative, but they get the job done. You are being called to be this knight as you rebuild that tower. You don’t have to be the most creative person in the room. You don’t have to be the most inspiring person and come into a planning session with a full list of new ideas. If you focus on getting the job done effectively and consistently, you will be successful. Sit down and write goals. Just like group 1 (which you may have been interested in checking out), create goals that are tangible and attainable. You can also grow by accepting responsibility for anything that might go wrong. The original tower moment may or may not have been consequences of your own actions, but moving forward you need to be aware of your actions so another tower doesn’t fall. Stick to what you know, stick to a routine, and soon you’ll see the tower is standing higher than ever.

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andreafmn · 9 months

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12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 4

Word Count: 1.6K Paring: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @a-cure-for-writers-block: mothering their S/Os younger siblings and making sure they're getting enough to eat

Summary: Lip Gallagher has had a hell of a year, and most of the time he doesn't think he deserve the mercy he's been shown. But (Y/N) will stop at nothing to make sure he and his family know they are taken care of. And he knows it.

A/N: a bit late, but still published. Also, this is very short and sweet and does not follow the canon after season 5. Kind of went off path to give Lip a bit of a quicker redemption. Hope y'all enjoy!

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“Yo, Lip,” Ian’s sleepy voice rang through his brother’s phone. “Uh, your girlfriend is over here, and I think she’s gone crazy.”

“What you mean?” Lip chuckled as he rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “‘Cause that’s a lot coming from you.”

“Very funny,” he laughed sarcastically. “No, but she made Christmas puke on the house, and she’s been cooking nonstop since this morning. She hounded us all morning until we ate breakfast and wouldn’t stop until we sat down at the table.” ”

Lip couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he pictured his girlfriend with her face dirtied by food, her hair tied back and away from her face, and her voice carrying around the house as she made sure everyone had eaten. It was one of the things he loved about her and one of the reasons he was glad she had come into his life. “Look, I’ll be home soon,” he chuckled. “Can you just make sure she actually eats? I know she’s gonna forget.”

“Fine,” Ian groaned. “Just hurry up.”

(Y/N) had come into Lip’s life at a moment when he was sure his life would have gone down the rails. She has become his sense of normalcy in his less-than-normal life. He had needed something to ground him back to earth, and that was exactly what she had done. After being so close to rock bottom he could taste the soil on the ground, she had been the only one that had been able to bring him back to his feet.

As he got off the L, he wondered what she could have ever seen in him. She was smart and beautiful and a complete juxtaposition to the man he was. She was sunshine where he was rain, she was happiness where he was gloom, she was future while he was stuck in the past. And she was everything he never thought he needed.

The moment he reached the house, he could hear the chatter from his family and the smell of (Y/N)’s cooking. Inside, Liam, Carl, and Ian were hypnotized by the TV while (Y/N) and Debbie talked away in the kitchen.

Ian had not lied. The Gallagher house had been decorated like it had never been before. From garlands to stockings above the fireplace, to a massive Christmas tree in front of the stairs, it was a scene that had never lived inside that house. “Yo, you weren’t kidding, huh?” Lip chuckled as he shook off his jacket. “Didn’t think we’d ever have these many decorations.”

“And presents,” Carl grinned. “Check under the tree.”

Just like his younger brother had pointed, under the pine rested a couple of boxes wrapped in kraft paper. Each of them had every one of the Gallagher’s names written on them and a glittering red bow around them. It truly was more than Lip could have ever expected.

“Ian, did she eat something?”

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s also been pecking at everything she’s doing.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Taking the scenery in, Lip walked into the kitchen to find (Y/N) wearing a dirty apron and plates balanced on her arms.

“You’re home,” she smiled, kissing his cheek as she walked past him to give the three boys each a plate. “Good. There’s a plate for you in the microwave. I made some turkey sandwiches for lunch. Light enough to not fill you guys up for dinner but strong enough to tide you over until then.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” the boys chorused before digging into their sandwiches and focusing back on the TV.

“This is so good, (Y/N),” Debbie exclaimed from the breakfast table. “I don’t know how you’re not studying to be a chef.”

“I cook for fun, not for work,” the young woman smiled. “That’s what engineering school is for.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “If the genius stuff doesn’t work out, you could definitely be a chef.”

“Thank you, Debs,” (Y/N) responded. “And speaking of school, how was your last final, babe? I know this semester has been a bit hard.”

Understatement of the century, Lip had thought. He couldn’t understand how he had not been expelled after everything he had done the year before. He had been so close to losing it all. Had it not been for (Y/N) stopping him before he smashed Youens car and speaking up on his behalf at the disciplinary meeting, he was sure he would have gotten a worse punishment than a semester suspension. She had been the saving grace he didn’t know he needed, and she was the reason he understood he needed help.

Lip had inherited more than a hard life from his parents, he’d fallen victim to their addictive genetics and gone off the deep end with a bottle of liquor in hand. But somehow, she had been there to pull him up while he was down and walk beside him as he got back onto the right path. She stayed with him as he rebuilt himself into the man people believed he was.

“I think it went pretty well,” he said before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Won’t know until after the break, but if midterms were anything to go by, I did good.”

“That’s good. I’m pretty sure you did very well,” she smiled as she sat beside him, placing a hand on his and a coffee cup in front of his plate. “And I know you’re tired, but I’m gonna need you to help me prep the table for dinner tonight. Kev, V, and the girls are coming over. Fiona can’t make it, but she’ll try for actual Christmas Day or New Year's.”

“You’ve got everything planned out already, don’t you?” Lip chuckled. “Not that I am surprised in any way, shape or form.”

“I would have told you earlier, but I wanted you to focus on your exams,” she said before turning to the boys in the living room. “Hey, guys! Remember to wash your dishes when you’re done! I’m gonna need them for tonight.”

“Yes, (Y/N),” they chorused back.

“You got them very well trained,” Debbie laughed. “Where have you been all our lives?”

“Just on the other side of town,” the girl smiled. “Now hurry and finish eating. We’ve got work to do.”

After everyone finished their lunch and the how was suddenly dispersed of children, (Y/N) and Lip set off to work. While she waltzed around the kitchen, he rearranged the formal dining area to fit all the guests. As he walked around the house, the young man wanted to laugh. He remembered a time when that type of domesticity would have sent him running, searching for the easiest way to drown his fears of commitment and stability. But there he was, setting tables for a dinner party that his girlfriend had cooked, and he didn’t feel the jittery need to escape. He didn’t feel the anxious desire to feel alcohol burn its way down his throat and fill him with a mirage of confidence. He wanted to stay.

“Hey,” he whispered after he had finished his task, snaking his arms around her waist and kissing her cheeks. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Of course,” she smiled, leaning into the comfort and warmth of his touch. “Do you think there’s enough food I don’t know if I should set out some snacks for the kids while the turkey is finished. Maybe dinner is too late for Jemma and Amy. I should set some snacks out.”

“(Y/N), baby,” he chuckled. Lip flipped her around, kissing her lips softly to stop her rambling. “There’s enough food, and they should be starving by dinner. You worked hard enough on all these dishes, they need to be eaten.”

“And they will, but…”

“You really enjoy mommying them, don’t you?” Lip grinned lovingly. “You know they’re not kids anymore –other than Liam. The other ones are all teenagers, they know how to get food when they’re hungry.”

“I know that. But I just wanna make sure they know there’s someone here that cares about them other than you now that Fiona’s gone,” she admitted, her eyes falling onto the hands she pressed to his chest. “And I want them to like me, Lip. I’m in it for the long run, babe.”

“If there’s one thing I can assure you, it’s that the Gallagher family loves you,” he smiled. His hand caressed her cheek softly, and it surprised him that only a year before, his knuckles would have been ripped and bloodied. But not with her. Never with her. “And if you keep cooking like this for them, they’ll make sure you’re here forever.”

“And what about you? Would you want me to stay forever?”

Lip couldn’t help the smile that spread across his mouth. As he stared into her eyes, it took everything inside him not to spoil the plans he had for Christmas morning. He wanted to give her all the reassurance she could need with the ring he had hidden deep in his underwear drawer. But when he had a plan, it was hard to divert from it. “How could I want anything else?” he grinned. “Now, why don’t we finish up here so we can have a little treat before dinner ourselves?”

“Philip Gallagher,” she exclaimed at his advance, slapping his chest playfully. “I have too much work to do to be thinking about that.”

“Come on, I’ve only been thinking about this all day,” he groaned. “It’s the only thing that got me through that test.”

“Then you can wait a bit more,” she laughed. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, baby. All good things come to those who wait.”

And, at that moment, she had no idea how much truth there was in that statement.

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cryptwrites · 2 years

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Poisons

Hello! I'm gonna share how I go about writing poisons and the things I think are helpful to keep in mind. Now, I have never actually poisoned someone - shocker - but I have done extensive research on the topic, so I would say I know a decent amount about how to effectively poison someone. Disclaimer: This is for writing purposes only, don't poison people. Thanks.

Keep In Mind:

Poisoners need little to no physical strength although they do need a strong sense of self control & nerves of steel. Shooting or stabbing someone takes a mere moment of consideration and is frequently the result of a split second decision, while position requires dedication. Many poisons require a certain amount of time to work and the poisoner usually must administer several doses of poison in order to work. The poisoner also usually must be within close proximity to their victim and often will have to look them in the eye and engage with the person while the person slowly dies.

Exotic poisons can be more trouble than they’re worth. Importing exotic poisons leaves a trail for authorities to follow, and they require more research to correctly use.

Smart poisoners work with what they’ve got. The clever killer looks for drugs that are already in the victim’s medicine cabinet and that could be deadly. Read medical warning labels to get an idea of how to use them.

Poison can be used in ways that aren’t deadly. If the goal isn’t death, you can render someone dizzy or dopey, making a character vulnerable to a bad influence.

Common Poisons

Hemlock: Poison hemlock comes from a large fern-like plant that bears a dangerous resemblance to the carrot plant. It was readily available for treating muscle spasms, ulcers, and swelling, but in large doses will cause paralysis and ultimately respiratory failure.

Mandrake: It was used as a sedative, hallucinogen and aphrodisiac. Superstition mediaeval denizens believes when the vaguely human-shaped root was pulled out that plant gave a piercing shriek that would drive anyone to madness or death - hence the harry potter scene.

Arsenic: Arsenic comes from a metalloid and not a plant, unlike the others but it’s easily the most famous and is still used today. instead of being distilled from a plant, chunks of arsenic and dug up or mined. It was once used as a treatment for STDs , and also for pest control and blacksmiths, which was how many poisoners got access to it. It was popular in the Renaissance since it looked similar to malaria death, due to acute symptoms including stomach cramps, confusion, convulsions, vomiting and death. Slow poisoning looked more like a heart attack.

Nightshade: A single leaf or a few berries could cause hallucinations - a few more was a lethal dose. Mediaeval women used the juice of the berries to colour their cheeks, they would even put a few drops on their eyes to cause the pupils to dilate for a lovestruck look which is why Nightshade is also called ‘Belladonna’ or “Beautiful woman.” The symptoms include dilated pupils, sensitivity to light, blurred vision, tachycardia, loss of balance, staggering, headache, rash, flushing, severely dry mouth and throat, slurred speech, urinary retention, constipation, confusion, hallucinations, delirium and convulsions.

Aconite: This toxic plant, also called Monkshood or Wolfsbane, was used by indigenous tribes around the world as arrow poison. The root is the most potent for distillation. Marked symptoms may appear almost immediately, usually not later than one hour, and with large doses death is near instantaneous. The initial signs are gastrointestinal including nausea, and vomiting. This is followed by a sensation of burning, tingling, and numbness in the mouth and face, and of burning in the abdomen. In severe poisonings pronounced motor weakness occurs and sensations of tingling and numbness spread to the limbs. The plant should be handled with gloves, as the poison can seep into the skin.

If someones poisoning another:

The character should analyse the daily life of the target well before attempting to poison them. Note what sort of medicines they take, at what moments they are most vulnerable, how attentive they are to their surroundings, and so on.

Choose a poison that suits your needs. You need to be as discreet as possible and not arouse suspicion. Too dramatic and people will know something is up. Choose poisons that are easy to slip into meals/don't have to be administered constantly, or you could simply frame it as an overdose by using the target's own medicines.

Think of how you want to administer the poison. Some take effect through touch while some require being swallowed. Based on that, come up with a plan to poison your target.

Make sure everything corresponds with the plot and characters, and nothing becomes a plot hole. Don't have a typically nervous character be perfectly calm when thinking of poisoning. Don't poison someone just for the sake of it. Have everything tie back to the plot, your characters rarely should be poisonings someone just for the "cool" effect. Trust me, it doesn't actually have that effect and just comes off like lazy writing. Have your characters act in accordance with their personalities.

Research time periods and history when choosing poisons. Not all poisons were popular during the same time periods, and not all of them are native to the same geographical areas.

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