#His job doesn't pay and he's putting a lot of it into searching for people (and Her)

[kodasea]

Babygirl (my heart)

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing. 

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin. 

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club. 

 The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about. 

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met. 

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud. 

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me. 

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home. 

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it. 

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again. 

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I��m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

  When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.  

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone. 

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste. 

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time. 

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants. 

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges. 

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive. 

“I can too!” 

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?” 

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.” 

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?” 

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.” 

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.” 

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

 “I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated. 

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.” 

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.” 

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle. 

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask,  “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?” 

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours. 

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.” 

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.” 

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream. 

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.   

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.  

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.” 

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years. 

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo. 

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him. 

You 

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night. 

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!” 

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.” 

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.” 

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.” 

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs. 

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?” 

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?” 

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?” 

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.” 

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!” 

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes. 

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.  

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops. 

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself. 

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile. 

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo. 

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man. 

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning. 

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.  

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” 

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve. 

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it. 

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear. 

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.    

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in. 

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point. 

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel. 

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied. 

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours. 

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you. 

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call. 

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears. 

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs. 

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller. 

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel. 

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his. 

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault  the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips. 

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you. 

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on. 

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently. 

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives. 

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging. 

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table. 

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms. 

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

Next Chapter

[lsunstreakerl]

hi! i must say i really love your fics and i’m currently re-reading the first chapters of Search History (because i can’t get enough) and i came across this bit:

   "I am so afraid of losing people I love, Max. That is why I did not approach you sooner, because I thought if I got close, if I loved you, something bad would happen to you too." He sniffs, and suddenly he really does have the waterworks going, worse than Max has ever seen from him before.

   "But then Silverstone happened and you got hurt anyways. And I realized it does not matter if I love you from close or afar, and if I am going to love you then I want to do it right. "

and i know SH deals a lot with the consequences of Silverstone ‘21 on Max’s health but i was wondering if you have any insight on Charles’ immediate or short term reaction to the event, specially given that they were not together at the time.

again, love your work! it scratched an itch i didn’t know i had regarding RB garage dynamics

The way I literally disappeared off the face of the earth sorry guys 😭 it's been a rough winter and I've been working lots of unexpected hours but I should have some stuff uploaded soon!

Silverstone '21 is kind of the tipping point for Charles in Search History. I don't write a whole lot of Charles' viewpoint or dive too deep into his character a whole lot, because I don't write him very well (thanks, anon) and I'd rather keep him somewhat as a side character than completely butcher his development. There's a bit more of him in the next chapter of Famiglia, but as far as Search History you probably still won't see a whole lot for the fic itself, but I might try to expand a bit in the rest of the series.

Charles and Max have known each other their whole lives, and Charles has been paying attention to Max for several years at this point, but kind of what I'm alluding to in the chunk you've pointed out is that Charles feels like he's cursed or bad luck to the people he loves. He's seen so much death in the sport, and in his family, and it's always people he loves, people he really cares about, so obviously he's the problem, instead of just having terrible luck, because that totally makes sense, good job Charles.

So Charles is realizing that he cares about Max, really cares, and that scares the hell out of him, so he's trying not to get too close, or get too attached, because then bad things will happen.

And then Max gets his shit rocked at Silverstone, and Charles realizes that he was doing all of this, putting in all this effort to stay away, and Max got hurt anyways, which actually helps break a little bit of that toxic thought pattern for him.

He doesn't immediately do anything dramatic or declare undying love of any of that lol, he just starts letting himself get closer. When Max wants to talk to him after a race, Charles yaps back to his hearts content. They start texting more. Charles seeks out Max to debrief sometimes, instead of Max always coming to him. They meet up in Monaco for lunch, they go on runs together, they spend more time with each other.

Charles still has a lot of anxiety surrounding Max and his eyes after he finds out, and it also creates a bit of a weird dynamic with Lewis going into them being teammates- Lewis doesn't know why Charles is sometimes nice and sometimes not, and Charles is trying to be a good friend and teammate but sometimes when he looks at Lewis all he's thinking of is Max. (This also leads into a really competitive year with Lewis and Charles. Charles is absolutely dead set on refusing Lewis his 8th, and Lewis is like "I understand competitiveness but this seems personal" and Charles is standing there lying through his teeth when he reassures Lewis it's not personal.)

Search History will have a Max and Lewis conversation about the accident. I want to make it clear that I'm not painting Lewis as a villain in this story, because sometimes shit happens, and sometimes that shit can fuck you up long term. It's exactly what it was called- an accident.

Sorry that got a bit rambling. Search History has been fighting me a bit in these last few chapters, so I keep rewriting things because I'd rather take longer and put out something I like than rush it and be unhappy about it later. I promise I'm working on it 🤍

[igglemouse]

I have no idea what my friend, my dearest Sofia, think's she's doing. Her ego is about the size of this country and so she truly believes she can just decide to become an actress because she looks good? Is that it? I almost feel like this is a personal thing with her, she wants to prove to me that...

OH! Right! Hello! I'm Teresa Tejedor and yes, I am an aspiring actress, and so is my friend Sofia, for whatever reason. She's been a sort of model I think and she believes that acting is the usual next step in her career. For whatever reason. I know better, I know it's just her latest get rich quick scheme.

But lets be honest for a moment, she doesn't have what it takes. She just likes the idea of being an actress, the fame, the luxury. You know, the designer shoes and dresses, the attention, the flashing cameras, the red carpet, but she has no idea what it takes to make it there. Not like I do.

It takes years of looking at yourself in the mirror and going "Damn I look good," and knowing with full confidence that you look so incredible that people will pay just to watch you do things. That's what being an A-list actress is about and she's not up for it. I am.

Even now I spend hours and hours before my mirror reading crappy skits for commercials, yes, commercials, because a lady has to start somewhere.

I hope that I move past commercials and move into comedy. I'm not sure why but there is something about the genre that I enjoy. It simply feels good to laugh, doesn't it? I like the easy-going nature of a sitcom or a romcom and how it never asks to be taken seriously. It wants you to enjoy yourself in that moment and that moment only and while playing the romantic interest of some comedian might not win me any kind of Simmy Awards it'll sure be a lot of fun.

My dad said be an actor but be a comical one! Alright, no, he didn't say that but imagine he through song and dance?

Enough about acting, I'm sure you only care so much about that and maybe you care a little more about me? Understandable, I'm someone you might want to know just a little more about and for now all I'll say is I've spent most of my life her in the DSVEEEEE! That's Del Sol Valley, for you lames, born and raised!

That means I'm pretty familiar with the people and places here and have a few friends I can lean on with one of them heading over now.

This is Phi Suttikul, a woman I met while waiting tables at the old Sunrise Diner, remember that place? The owner was crazy! Martin something? Any ways, the old man owned the place and shut it down to focus on his place in Oasis Springs for whatever reason. Either way, suddenly being jobless has allowed me to finally focus on my dream but it has left a bit of a void for Phi.

"I just feel out of place here," she tells me. "Everyone in this town is chasing fame and everything that comes with it while I'm just...well, here."

"Girl, you need goals! You don't have to be an actress or musician or influencer, just find something to reach for?" I tell her this over and over again because it really does feel like she just moves through each day with little to no purpose. "You've put your resume out there and are getting no job offers at all?"

"Nope, nothing!" she puffs out as if the entire job search has been exhausting for her. I can only imagine. "How about you? Any auditions?"

I give a shrug of my shoulders and wave of my hand. "I might be selling laundry detergent, if I get the part."

She chuckles at that. "Hey, better than nothing? How about Sofia, heard from her lately?"

I give my head a small nod but I admit to having a fully smug smirk firmly on my face. "She thinks being an actress is just about looking the part and is already planning her red carpet walks and outfits."

"Uh huh, that girl really shoots for the moon," Phi snickers with familiarity. She might not know Sofia like I do but she knows her well enough.

"She usually does get what she wants though," I begrudgingly admit.

"Mmhmm, she wants the good life and I wouldn't be surprised if she got it. Millions and millions, adoration, and respect. Some people are just born fortunate-"

"Yeah, don't we all, don't we all," I cut her off because I'm ready to move on from the topic of Sofia. You know the more you mention her name the more power you give her? Actually, I believe that is true for most people. "Sooo, what plans do you have for the week then Phi?"

"Well...umm..." she pauses because she likely plans on smoking weed all week and doing absolutely nothing.

"Oh Phi! We really have to get your life jump started!"

I'll be honest though I don't really have much planned either, at least for the rest of the day. I have an audition tomorrow and I plan on acing that and we'll see what happens from there. For now I just have a simple bowl of apple salad because I am incapable of cooking. No one is perfect.

Before I do call it a night I get in some extra mirror time because practice makes perfect and if I'm going to be the movie star I think I can be then I need to spend a lot of time practicing! This is a cut throat business with hundreds of people all vying for scraps. Just think about how many other women would love to get this role selling laundry detergent, how many would kill for this role, and how many would be content with just starring in commercials.

So I have to be the best I can be and I have to 'break a leg' as the saying goes.

But my life is not a stage and I do want what most people want out of life. Someone to share my victories and defeats with, someone to laugh with and at, someone to love. Who doesn't want a little romance in their lives? If only I knew where to look. Where does one find the perfect partner?

I hear cupid's corner is an option and so I flip out my phone and scroll through the choices and honestly most are not very appealing. I do pause on a nerdy kind of guy, not usually my type but something about him interests me...

My dating life is another problem for another day! We'll see what comes of it I guess!

Teresa Tejedor - Next Episode 1.2

[the-words-we-sung]

Thoughts and pictures - S3E4

I've never been that slow with a Young Royals rewatch >< It's hard for me to get through this season (especially now that I'm in the last 3 episodes...)

And here we go, starting directly with a very sad Simon 😞 Omar plays a crying Simon way too well, it breaks my heart every damn time...

I like hearing Wilhelm call Simon his boyfriend 🥰 Also is it me, or do we have a lot more close up shots in season 3? (No clue if that's what it's called, I mean shots that are very zoomed in on their faces like this one.)

Vincent drawing a dick on the ground, of course... And I don't get his explanation: "why even try if there's no reward for the effort?". It means if the school closes, they all won't graduate and have to do their grade all over again? Surely if they're taking tests and all, it counts for something? Why fail an important test and take the risk to fail your year? 🤔 (Not gonna lie, most of Vincent's reactions to what's happening to the school this season left me quite perplexed ^^') And if it's just the graduation ceremony that is cancelled, it still doesn't mean they're not graduating, does it? 🤔

But can you really Simon?

And Wilhelm repeating his mother's words "it's a privilege, not a punishment" breaks my heart >< (Also I'm gonna be a little shit about it but even the Royals have a choice in the end about accepting or not their role and job: after all, Wille is gonna renounce it in 2 episodes :p)

I do like what he said about the role of the royal family in Sweden! We have very little information on that in the show so I appreciate it here. And he looks so pretty in this light!

Wilhelm sounded so surprised that Farima said yes immediately when he told her they needed to help Simon. He was expecting to have to fight them on that.

Why did he have to delete his whole account? Why not just put it on private? (I know I've read in several fanfics the idea that searching and deleting through all the new people who followed him before going on private would be too much of a hassle but I feel like it's a stretch, and an acceptable price to pay to keep his account?)

Their conversation about Wilhelm's choice of foundation makes me so so sad! I had hoped that he would see Simon's point of view on how he can use his role as Crown Prince to try and make things better! I was actually pretty surprised that he was 100% not interested. It's a new facet of Wilhelm's personality that we hadn't really seen before I guess? And it feels like it creates a serious gap between them, it shows that they're not on the same page at all about a pretty serious subject (which is not good for the future of their relationship...)

This shot of these 3 made me laugh :p

This one hurts... Another crack in their relationship 😩 Simon is realizing how different they are. He knew they were but this season is showing us a side of Wilhelm that just seems incompatible with Simon :/ It's not just differences in tastes or personality, now it's differences in their core values also. And that is a huge problem.

So we learn that Simon mostly avoided Micke for Sara's sake. Or maybe he's exaggerating that fact because he's really angry at her.

The sit-in scene is very funny, they're all so dramatic, thinking they might starve to death xD I didn't think that August's eating disorder would be confirmed this way! Also I guess Vincent does have ADHD then? It was not just an excuse to get pills.

"Because we are different?" Yeah... that's what this episode is really about, how different you both are. Which wouldn't be an issue for me if it was less about such important matters :/ I wish we had seen them learn more from each other this season, instead of being in conflict to much.

I agree with Felice that it's getting out of hand! (I still enjoy the whole thing though 😁). I don't dislike Stella as much as a lot of people seem to, but I don't like her in this scene and how she talks to Felice!

Cutest scene of the episode.

I adore this scene. It makes me want to cry. I love them both and I'm so happy that they're slowly finding their way back to each other <3

"Erik was there." This sceeeeene!! Such a punch in the face, so fucking terrible >< (So well acted also!!)

Another trauma for my poor boy...

So lots of mixed feelings with this episode! I'm very frustrated with Wilhelm and his reactions, but I love the Sara arc. I really like the end of the episode, with some very good scenes. But now I really don't wanna go watch the next one ><

[chansbabygirlsstuff]

Just a bet Chapter 7

HII lovelies here is chapter 7 please enjoy it!

warnings: fluff really cute

Words: 1k

"Are you avoiding me?"  he tells me 

"What? no, I'm not" I shift uncomfortably trying to hide the unexpected news I just got told about him

"Then why are you canceling all our plans and not even looking at me? did I do something wrong?" he asked now stopping walking and turning to face me, so I turned to him 

"Look, I just have a terrible eye infection and I just don't feel comfortable with people seeing it, and it hurts awful, I don't want to seem weird being around you with big ass sunglasses on right?" you try defending yourself 

"ok, come with me" he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the parking lot to his car, I get in with no context thinking how easily I can get kidnaped in life

"where are we going?" he starts the car and gets out of the uni "You'll see" he sighs frustrated 

he parks in a mini station mall where I can see restaurants, boutiques, ice cream shops, and more, I get excited as  I see the ice cream shop going straight to it, but before I enter it Chan grabs my arm and pulls me to the right, "here, we can go there later" he pulls me to a pharmacy

"hello what can I help you with?" the kind lady says  "Hi can we get a cream for an eye infection, please," he says kindly as  I freeze,  I didn't know this was coming. "of course, I will need to see how infected it is soi can refer you to an antibiotic" she smiles looking at him 

I look down as I would not like him to see my bruised eye, I look at him and he pressures me "Don't worry I won't say anything to anyone" he smiles. I take my glasses off and look at the woman. She nodded "Sweetie that is not an infection, that is a bruise caused by a hit" Chan didn't look at me respecting my decisions. Still, when she said it was a bruise he grabbed my face and started examining it, his eyes widened when he saw my eye "But we do have some cream for the swollen area and the pain" she typed something in the computer "We have x product for the swollen area and for the pain..." she searches in the computer "do you have any pain in your eye?" she looks at me "yes I do have lots of pain" I nod and look down feeling guilty about lying to him.

"we will take both, please," he says taking out his wallet "Oh, don't worry Chan I will pay for it," you said putting your glasses back on and taking out your wallet "Don't, I come here to buy you something for your eye so let me" he places your wallet down and he takes out his card to pay

"Thank you have a nice day " She smiles and we leave towards the car, when we both shut the door only silence can be heard 

"Who did this to you?" he tries to say calmly way trying to concentrate looking directly into the road while the car is still parked 

"I -umm" you have trouble telling the truth 

"When did this happen? and why didn't you tell me anything?" 

"I- uh it happened on Saturday" You feel scared not knowing what he is going to do 

"Who did this to you Y/n? I need to know" his worried eyes look back at you 

"my dad" you murmur to him looking down, you never had someone who truly worried about you when this used to happen 

"why the fuck would he hit you?" he looked at you with an unbelievable expression on his face

"Because I came home late last Friday" you murmur not wanting him to feel that this was his fault 

"he hit you becuase you were out late, but aren't you 23?" he looks more shocked and angry than ever

"I'm used to it, ever since my mom died he has been hitting me for any excuse he can find, so don't worry about me," I say looking out the window

"We need to do something about it Y/n I can't let this happen again what the actual fuck is wrong with him?" he starts the car

"I already tried everything and I have nowhere to go, the police won't do anything about it"

"Why don't you move out?" he asks you "My job doesn't allow me with my low income, and trust me if I could I would"

"mhm let me think..." he stays quiet

"don't worry about me Chan I swear it's fine, actually thank you for worrying about me" I express my gratitude towards him  

"look my sister is looking for a roommate, how about you pay the 20% each month and I will pay for the rest and I will talk to her ok?"

"no Chan please, it's fine, that's practically living for free" you saw feeling flustered about his request 

"Another option is living with me, but I don't know how you are going to feel about that" he looks at me

"Chan don't worry about me, I don't want to be a burden to you" 

"ok... just... please call me if he ever does the same thing again" I nod and he smiles at me 

he drives me home and says goodbye to me "Please know that I'm here if you need me ok?"

I nod and wave "Thank you for everything again" he smiles and waves back 

I get inside the house and run towards my room and lock the door, throwing myself in the bed I cover my face in my pillow kicking my feet "Oh my God he is such a bitch" you said giggling and kicking your feet  for making you feel butterflies in your tummy

You get up take a shower, do your skincare, and apply both creams around your eye

you lay back down grabbing a bag of chips in your top drawer and keeping snacks there so you don't have to get out of your room 

you grab your phone and open your contact to Chris's phone number 

                             -Thank you for the cream Chris it helped calm the pain around my eye 

 -ofc Y/nie text me if you need anything else:) 

                                                   - I will thank you again, Chris, good night 

-goodnight Y/n 

you put your phone back down feeling that crazy feeling on your stomach smiling to yourself, but then remember what Mina said about Sana and Chris last time, oh great there goes one of the best days ever.

hey lovelies I hope you enjoyed chapter 7 remember that i post every Friday at 6pm CTS and if you want to be on the tag list please tell me

Taglist: @stayceebs97 @foivestarrsketchez @salfetkablog @strayywayy

[cyber-phobia]

Hello! I need help looking for a fic, this is a long ask so sorry about that! I'm really desperate to find this fic so I wanna give out as many details as I can remember.

Even if it's deleted it would help a lot of any of you at least had a name or author, as I can try and search for an archive.

Here are some warnings just in case:

// Suicide mentions, child abandonment mentions

I don't exactly remember how the fic started, but I remember that Inko is neglectful in this fic. Hisashi goes to America bc of Izuku's quirklessness, and while he and Inko stay married, as they still love each other, he just wants nothing to do with Izuku. Inko stays but after a while Hisashi starts sending her care packages, with letters he wrote over the years, plushies all that stuff.

She eventually decides to move with Hisashi, but leaves Izuku behind bc "Izuku is old enough to take care of himself" (He's like 14-16?). She pays the apartment's rent and send money for food and such but Izuku stays alone and it affects him badly.

Inko and Hisashi live very happily in America and pretend they don't have a son, but one day Hisashi loses his job and they're forced to make budget cuts, which includes Izuku. They send less and less money to the point where Izuku has to get a job, and then eventually they cut him out.

Izuku due to the very limited money was not able to afford High School and instead started working at a grocery shop, but due to his depression, he ends up losing his job due to not showing up in a week I think?

He decides that he's just tired. Its just not worth it, he will be kicked out soon, so he commits suicide in the bathtub.

That's where the first part of the story ends

If it helps someone identify the fic, then part 2 is:

After finding out Izuku is dead, Inko and Hisashi decide to go back to Japan to make the processes needed. They get Izuku cremated and buy a cheap space in an urn cemetery thing. They don't even put up a photo, just a plaque and the urn.

They go to the Bakugo's to inform them what happened, as they will be going back to America right after. Hisashi is very pissed and doesn't care for Izuku, while Inko feels a little remorse and admits she was a bad mother (She specifically tells Mitsuki "We were bad parents), but otherwise is just ready to leave too.

The Bakugo's had thought Izuku had gone to America with his mom, so they never checked on him, and are obviously pissed about what happened. Inko and Hisashi leave and Katsuki is very upset.

He goes to the cemetery where they put Izuku and feels sad about how barren the whole thing is. Katsuki brings a photo to decorate it a little.

I don't remember what he does later but he shares Izuku's story somehow and it gets popular, with people leaving gifts for Izuku in his grave. It gets to the point that even All Might hears about it and in his small form, visits Izuku to pay his respects.

This part ends in a somewhat happy note talking about how Izuku's grave is filled with the hero merch he loved.

That's it as far as I'm aware. I would really really appreciate any details from this story please!! I can look for an archive myself if it's deleted, I just need a name and/or author.

Thank you so much and I'm sorry for the long post I'm just desperate.

.

[kunekojo]

Would they fall in love at first sight or would it be slow burn and why and how do they confess if the reader is oblivious for szayel, mayuri and adult uryu ? Fluff plz

Also thx for the follow 🥺

You’re welcome!!! I need to make more bleach moots 🥹🥹🥹 thank you so much for being my first request btw, this means a whole lot to me! I hope you enjoy this!!!

Love at first sight/slow burn with Szayel, Mayuri and Uryu(adult)

•••

Mayuri Kurotsuchi

With him, it’s pure slow burn.

At first, he’ll treat you just like he treats everyone else, but right when you indicate the tiniest bit of curiosity in his projects, he’ll be overjoyed.

His experiments are his pride and it’s pretty rare for any of the soul reapers to show the slightest bit of interest in them. Yet when you do, he’ll take you and show you absolutely everything while stating the smallest details, convinced you won’t last for too long. His intellect isn’t for everyone and it’s not his problem.

But the problem is, you don’t leave. A little unexpected but he’s sure you’ll leave, eventually.

But again, you don’t. You find everything about his experiments so fascinating that you just hang around because you genuinely enjoy it. You find him impressive enough that you can’t quit witnessing his psyche.

You’re not a scientist yourself but learning about these things takes a hold of you so much that you find yourself together in his lab with him oftentimes.

And believe me, you end up spending a looot of time with him. So much that everyone is kind of worried but that's not an issue.

The more time you spend with him, the more you begin developing ideas and you're not ashamed to spill your mind. Of course, he might be a bit cruel while correcting you but hey, this is his style, right? You can't be right about everything, but he's kind of encouraging you in a weird way to keep at it.

Still, he finds it a little fascinating how you hang around him, indulging yourself in his domain. After all, his mind is so vast, how can people not do that?

Little by little, you take after him and it impresses him greatly, so much that he's kind of developing a little something something for you but he can't exactly grasp what, hell he just thinks you've specialized yourself. Maybe it’s just mutual respect with how much you've evolved but oh boy, it's so much greater than that.

First, You'll notice he's actually letting you take part in his research as he does his lil mad scientist thing but hey, perhaps this means you’re finally able to attend to these, so good job.

Second, he'll tend to care about your well-being in battles. Thing he normally doesn't mind. As a soul reaper, you must give your all, even if it means your life, but he makes a little exception with you.

He can't explain to himself why and will try to find logical reasons for this odd behavior he's undergoing. But the more time you spend with him, it intensifies, sending him to spiral over this nonsense.

Then at some point, he needs someone as a test subject and while you offer yourself, he denies it, giving a rather weird explanation that rather makes sense but doesn't. You don't pay much attention to it because duh, you understand he knows better, you won't just question his decision despite not entirely agreeing to it, but the problem is he questions it himself

For some time the odd change he's sensing goes away, but everything shifts when you bring something for him on his birthday and he doesn't reject it. He might in fact look at it frequently. Why would he even accept something like this? Something, this insignificant. It's so frustrating, but he's got to search for an answer on his own.

This thing eats at him so much that he goes all the way to make throughout tests on himself and see wherever there's an after-effect to his experiments but it's not. The chemicals in his brain incline towards the possibility of behavior so much greater than plain respect, a little investment in you.

Simply put, he likes you a little but will run a few more tests to make sure, and they all come positive, again. He can't deny his own results at this point, but he has to accept whatever this is and work with it

Some more time later after (after days of analyzing), there's improvement on his side (he's accepted)

But you fall victim to a virus during battle and he does his utmost to generate an antidote for you and it drives him crazy when he almost loses which is unacceptable. It's the sudden fear of loss that astonished him, he's never felt that before but it’s a huge game changer between you two

This event makes him consider experimenting on you just so there wouldn't be any more chances of you dying on him

Afterward, once you're refreshed and up, you decide to thank him for saving your life and he makes an odd comment, something along the line “you better stay by my side for the rest of your time.” which you can't get at first but with time, it makes sense

Uryu Ishida (adult)

Uryu’s on the spectrum of love at first sight instead but with a tiny bit of slow burn

He generally protects and saves other women but when he meets you as you're proving you’re able to do that on your own. he acknowledges it. He can’t lie to himself and not agree he’s a little intrigued by it, but will still tend to overprotect you out of instinct

Your whole personality snatches his attention and he can't help but think about you a little, especially with how nice you are so expect him to not take his eyes off you when you seem to be in troubke

You find his carefulness precious but will constantly remind him it's not like you're helpless, but you do appreciate his care and it's what draws you to spend time with him

Despite his quietness, he's really enjoyable to hang around and you both do find a few things to talk about and they do expand quicker than he anticipated

There's just something about your being that draws him to you so much that he can't really imagine not having you around but he rejects the idea of this possibility

Then you praise him for something he did for you and it's done

Face flushed, he won't be able to take you off his mind and the first rational explanation to this oddness is that... He might have a crush on you?? If this is how crushes work.

He denies it but does take it into consideration. Everyone goes through this kind of feeling but isn't it a little different??

He has to go to Orihime and inquire about this, behavior just to confirm his hypothesis and it does

He doesn't know how to handle the news and it's somehow harder to be around you with these newfound feelings but you somehow manage to soothe him which is incredible

But he won’t just plainly state his feelings, especially that he’s not aware if you share them too. It wouldn’t even be proper to address this issue of his since you don’t seem to have some feelings as well

But god it eats at him so much that you start noticing it a little and he panics momentarily while trying to act cool about it

Still, it worries you so much that you’re sure he’s going through a bad period and you must be there for him, to listen to him, completely oblivious that this is only happening when you’re around

Maybe he trusts you enough to show his true colors in front of you!

The more time passes, the more he can't hold it inside anymore, and out of the blue, he requests you two have a talk about an important matter

You're worried sick about it and accept his invitation but when he can hardly find his words, you stare at him confused, urging him to tell you what's troubling so you could help him

“What?? No, nothing’s going on in my family, it's just that-” “just what? Please Uryu, tell me, don't bottle up your emotions. I'm here to listen. There's no shame in having family problems” “No it's not that.” “Are you sure?”

Your hand placed on his shoulders is what pushes him to the last straw

“There’s nothing wrong about my family.” “Then about who?” “You. I like you”

His words stun you but he's quick to explain his love feelings, confessing he had kind of fallen for you from the start

Szayel

Another pure slow burn similar in some ways to Mayuri

It all begins when you’re placed to work under him by Aizen himself. When you two first meet, he's not phased by your presence but takes it as it is, especially since Aizen pointed out that the choice of putting you alongside him isn't baseless

He's rather curious why though, a little convinced there might be a faulty reason to it but for that confirmation, he must put you through all sorts of trials

Yet when you pass these little mind tricks, he doesn't deny it. So you're worthy enough to witness his absolute genius

You catch up with his ideas pretty quickly which is intriguing. Your drive to help him achieve whatever’s on his mind is of great benefit to him and he does take advantage of it

Truthfully, as long as you're useful you're good to hold around.

You two spend quite a lot of time together and you get to see parts of him Aizen has never told you about, so your intrigue makes you show more of you as well

He might not make it seem like he cares but he does keep in mind everything, just chooses not to give further thought to it for now

All that time also comes with different experiments which start mild and are easy to handle but the more he increases them, you start showing signs of difficulties but your urge to keep them going amazes him

So you're not perfect after all, then he should make you perfect. He deemed you worthy in the beginning, so he must keep you that way to the end. You don't even protest and he welcomes your reply

There's something odd about the way you let him do anything for the sake of research. It's not like you do it as a mindless puppet, but as someone who understands his means to some extent

It draws him closer to you but again, he does not give much thought to it

Then at some point, one of his experiments goes bad and puts you in a sort of critical condition and he does everything to undo it

Why would he even do that? It's simple, he needs you and your psyche, he can't afford to lose such a significant piece, one who listens to every command

Also maybe he's grown attached to you and the realization itches deep inside his mind until it's knocking at the door

He enjoys the way you go to the extent of putting yourself in danger but it's not like he’ll allow that to happen. He needs you healthy and well, and not only for his experiments

Your input is always spot on so he praises you when you come up with ideas to boost his brainstorming and that means a lot to him

You're in fact an important piece in his eyes and he'll do everything to ensure your growth and your safety

You also begin showing him equal signs of attachment and care for him, which he can hardly digest because of the suddenness

But he can't deny his growing feelings of comfort and deep trust around you, practically giving a hint of a feeling much more evolved than previously

It's when you manage to do an experiment of yours without his help that he places the palm of his hand on your head, as his soft-spoken words seize your focus

“I love the way you've evolved, and I wish to see your astounding skills bloom so much further.”

[acrossthewavesoftime]

I was tagged by @basket-lily, thank you, friend!!

ೃ⁀➷ hiii hi here’s just a random question form ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav color: Green, dark reds, dark blues and the colour of the sea in a specific spot I am at times nostalgic for.

: ̗̀➛ how long have u been on tumblr for: I'd say I joined sometime during the Pandemic, I think it was the summer of 2021.

: ̗̀➛ wheres a place u always wanted to travel to: I have quite a few, currently I would like to re-visit Het Loo Palace.

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav clothing brand(s): I feel that in the end, one pays extra for the supposed 'privilege' of becoming a walking advertisement for a company, and thus avoid anything with visible branding. I wear clothes that I like, that fit me, and that, in a best case scenario, are from materials that aren't plastic. There is a particular shoe brand I like for their durability and quality materials; they do not put visible logos on their shoes, though.

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav singer/band(s): I have a few! Currently, I am listening to a lot of different folk artists again.

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur current phone lockscreen: ...I have not changed my lockscreen in over a decade, I realise. At this point, I have grown too attached to it to change it, and it is a little reminder of my interests back then, and how they continue to shape who I am today. It is a piece of art I found when I was lurking on Tumblr some 10 or more years ago. The original artist's blog seems to no longer exist, despite my best efforts to find them again via reverse image searches. It is a depiction of Richard III in armour, viewed from the back, and surrounded by medieval weaponry pointing at his head. The background is red, the outline of Richard and the weapons are done in greys. He appears to stand up straight, and over his head hovers a yellow crown. His back is overlaid with an anatomically correct outline of his scoliotic spine, also in yellow. It may be a long shot, but if anybody remembers the blog, or the artist, please tell me!

: ̗̀➛ most recent/current hyperfixation: I don't know if it counts as a hyperfixation, but I really enjoy reading about the Stuart family currently.

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur relationship status: There are some things that I would like to keep off the internet.

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur dream job: I am in the lucky position that I have been told more than once that I have a "dream job." As my industry is not too big however, I am not going to disclose exactly what I do. All I will say is that I may not be the first person you should approach regarding Sword Safety.

: ̗̀➛ outside of tumblr, fav social app: I don't really do social media, Whatsapp aside which I have in order to keep in touch with dear people fom my life.

: ̗̀➛ do u have pets: Not currently, sadly. I do have some very strong-willed potted plants, though.

: ̗̀➛ if u do have pets, what kind/how many: A pink syngonium who guilt trips me for abscences (despite always being cared for), a tall bird-of-paradise who is #not like the other strelitzias and enjoys everything it technically shouldn't, a Christmas cactus who has waged war on Christmas, and a "Prince of Orange" philodendron who, presumably like the person it was named after, doesn't grow quite straight.

: ̗̀➛ do u prefer tea or coffee: Tea!

: ̗̀➛ whats ur fav ice cream flavor: Chocolate, by far. Blackcurrant and mango are firm favourites as well.

: ̗̀➛ tag at least three other tumblr accounts

@mycological-mariner @cedarboots @clove-pinks - feel free to participate!

[bluebellsstories]

The Amazing Digital Circus severance AU: Meet the outies!

I had more ideas for this and decided that the best way to explore it is with the main cast's other identities!

In the digital adventure work unit, six people work as guides. Each person has their own reason for getting severed.

Agatha (Ragatha) is a mother of five who loves her kids more than anything. She used to be a stay at home mother until an accident put her husband out of work. Now she must provide the money for her family, but how can she balance her work and family life? With severance of course! Now she no longer has to worry about bringing the stress of work back home, giving her all her time to focus on her family. One must wonder where Ragatha's motherly traits come from?

Grace (Gangle) comes from a wealthy family that actually invested in the severance technology for C&A. Grace was force to undergo severance to convince the circus that it was safe. Grace would rather draw pictures and watch anime, but she couldn't say no to her family, so Gangle was born. They say it's fine, but every time she goes to work, she comes out feeling miserable. Could it be a mean co-worker? Regardless, Grace is doomed to be pushed around.

Ray (Kinger) is a kind but odd outcast, who deep down just wants some buddies. Being aware that severance makes you forget your time at work, he nonetheless undergoes it for the potential commodore. And who knows? If he thinks really hard, maybe he will remember something. During the operation, something goes wrong and the chip gets broken. Now Kinger can't remember anything in the digital circus either. Though maybe it's because his memories are mixing...

Jack (Jax) is a complex mix of envy, sadism and hedonist. Jack never cared about having a real job, he just wants to cause problems and have fun doing it. That changes when his sister does something that impresses the whole family. Her making something of herself causes the family to lose faith in Jack. He never had their approval before, but now that they're actively ignoring him, he's a little hurt. After a long time searching, he discovers a job that pays a lot, requires no effort and lets him have fun at other people expense: The digital Circus. Maybe with a steady job, things can go back to the way they were before.

Ash (Zooble) wants to be left alone for the most part. They took the job so that they don't have to remember any people. They wouldn't have even gotten a job if it wasn't so expensive to be alive. Though maybe underneath the cynicism is a person who's unsure about their purpose in life. Maybe they try not to care because caring only hurts you worse in the long run. Though whatever the reason may be, they aren't gonna open up about it anytime soon.

Polly (Pomni) was an accountant caught in a massive layoff at her company. Desperate to find another high paying job, she comes across the Digital Circus thinking that her livelihood was saved. Though the more time she spends working, the more she thinks something is wrong, like her other self doesn't want to be there. She wants to ignore it but she finds herself growing more and more curious. What is the circus like? What is her innie like? She might just have to find that out...

What do y'all think? I certainly had fun writing this! Let me know if y'all want more and I'll come up with something else!

[weepylucifer]

3 or 50 for the dialogue prompts!

50. “People are staring.”

Ulixes' hand hovers for an uncertain moment but then, at last, settles like softly drifting snow on his comrade's back. Five fingers splay between tense shoulderblades. "Take a deep breath, Steban."

"I'm sorry," Steban whispers. "I don't know why... I... this shouldn't be happening."

"It's going to be alright," Ulixes says.

Steban shakes his head. "I know this isn't normal. People are staring."

In reality, Ulixes surmises, the staring is probably mostly in Steban's mind, a manifestation of his very reasonable reluctance to embarrass himself in public. There are not many other shoppers present in the Frittte, two or three people drifting along the shelves, and most of them are absorbed in their own tasks. Sure, maybe some shoot them a slightly strange look, but disinterest takes over within seconds.

"Nobody is paying attention to us," Ulixes says, keeping his voice level and steady. "You can take your time choosing what you want."

Steban puts his hands on his mouth. Overwhelm is making his whole skinny frame shake. "I'm going to throw up. I'm going to throw up right now." Fevered, his eyes dart along the wide, expansive shelf crammed with garishly colorful packets of chips and nachos in flavors ranging from reasonable to outlandish. Dozens of brands, dozens of meaningless choices... freedom, under capitalism. "They're all the same, but really they're not... but really they are..."

"Yes, Steban." Ulixes begins to search his pockets for a handkerchief. Preferably a fresh one...

"I can't even afford these, really. I... this is the first time this week I have food money, and..."

Ah, and here is the crux of the problem, Ulixes thinks as he wraps an arm around Steban's quivering shoulders, here's why he's witnessing his best friend have a panic attack inside a Frittte. They're well into the week. And yes, of course, rent was just due... and Steban managed, again, to dodge eviction, but at a price. Really, Uli should have caught on, known what it meant that Steban was smoking a lot more and not inviting him over for dinner. Not that Steban would have simply told him. He never does. Maybe he doesn't want to be a burden, maybe he's too proud, maybe it's a bit of both.

Ulixes emphasizes. He hasn't known hunger himself, not like that - but right now it's as if he can bodily feel it. That yawning pit in his stomach, the nausea, the lightheadedness of too much nicotine and too little else. The emotional toll of the situation. Brittle, fragile, fit-to-crack emotions. He feels it all so acutely it makes his teeth ache. Just his imagination? Or... is this plasm? Is he really picking up Steban's real feelings?

Be that as it may, it is time for him to step up now. Ulixes straightens his back. "Step outside, Steban. Get some fresh air. Hand me your grocery list, I'll finish up the shopping for you."

For a moment, relief and stubbornness do silent battle beneath Steban's eyes, but he gives in. "Okay. Here," he says and tries to, along with the list, press a few pathetic, crumpled bank notes into Ulixes' hands. With his eyes lowered, his voice an anxious husk of itself, he adds, "Please make sure to budget."

Ulixes sighs. "Keep these." He has a little money left from his latest job - he takes commissions, occasionally, for translations: from Walder into Suresne or the other way around. It's irregular work and the rates are disturbingly low, but at least it's the occasional something. "Just buy me a coffee sometime," he says, knowing full well that he is never going to call in any sort of repayment for this as long as they both live.

--

They worked on the presentation together, because they naturally collaborate on most things now, but the assignment was ultimately Uli's: he's the one who must stand in front of the professor and his fellow students and, well, present.

Ulixes is not the words guy in his revolutionary cell of two. He sees himself as Steban's pillar of support, chiming in when needed, putting enemies of the cause in their place by any means necessary (any day now his chance will come), but not taking center stage. The syllabus is less than accomodating towards his vision. He can't just let Steban orate in his stead: he has to give some kind of talk, and it will affect his grade.

Now here he stands, seriously rethinking his every academic ambition. A lecture hall filled with students, their expressions ranging from bored over sleep-deprived to hungover, are looking at him. His palms are sweaty. The lights are too bright. He's all alone up here.

His eyes seek Steban, seated somewhere in the middle of the room, not up-front but not back row either. Steban smiles at him. Why can't you be here with me, Ulixes thinks. By my side as always. I can't do this. People are staring. They'll think I'm weird, they always do.

For a moment, he imagines Steban answering him, his voice so soft and kind and soothing as always, You'll be alright. You prepared for this, and you know your stuff. You can make them listen to you too. I have faith in you.

Clammy and tense with stage fright, Ulixes imagines Steban actually projecting those thoughts at him through an inframaterialist connection, through their strong bond, to show his support. Wishful thinking. Or is it...?

His hands unclench.

--

It felt right when they linked hands leaving Steban's apartment: like safety, like belonging, like doing something fundamentally correct. Steban felt something inside his chest swell with pride then, about fifteen minutes ago. Now, in the middle of the sidewalk on Rue du Saint-Ghislaine, in the middle of the afternoon, he's beginning to grow worried.

He tugs lightly on Uli's hand. Misinterpreting the gesture, or maybe just being stubborn, he merely takes this as incentive to walk closer.

There's nothing for it. Somehow, the topic has to be breached. But how to do that, and not hurt Uli's feelings?

"Maybe we should... erm..." Steban falters. Uli looks so uncommonly relaxed. He hates to take this from him.

"Yes? Maybe we should what?"

"Well..." Steban tugs at his hand again. "Maybe this isn't our... best idea to date."

"What do you mean?" Ulixes asks.

"I..." Steban squirms mentally. "I mean, it's nice like this, but... and I hate to reduce this to identity politics, but... look, it's like this. People are staring. We are going to get hate-crimed."

"I'll teach anyone who dares a lesson," says Ulixes ferociously, or what he thinks is ferociously. Steban finds himself endeared as well as concerned.

If only it worked like in Nilsen's theories already, he thinks, if only we could master that mind-melding technique. Then I could get him to understand why I worry. As it is, if I refuse him now, it's just going to look like I don't want to be seen with him.

Steban rolls his shoulders in defeat and submits himself to a near future filled with ambiguity and miscommunication.

--

"Don't worry," Steban says, "They're going to love you."

Ulixes wonders how Steban knew he was worrying. Maybe they're finally cultivating sufficient plasm, starting to read each other's minds? Or maybe it just shows in his face and posture. "I... hope you're right," he says.

"I know I'm right. Look, my family don't expect... I mean... they don't need you to impress them somehow. They're eager to meet you. They're simply, well... happy I have someone."

"That sounds nice." Ulixes can't even imagine bringing Steban home to his parents' house. Maybe once the revolution is at hand and it's time to torch the place. And even then, only maybe.

He's not actually that worried about meeting Steban's relatives. Steban talks often enough about how great they are, how tolerant of his idiosyncrasies - what, really, can go wrong? Okay, fine, maybe he's a little worried. The worry is being exacerbated, subtly, by his surroundings. Or maybe just his thoughts about the surroundings?

Revachol is enormous in size, so much so that a person can spend their whole life in one's quarter of town and never feel the need to leave. Consequently, there are whole neighborhoods of Revachol West where Uli has never gone, and this part of Jamrock is one.

Steban grew up here, which renders these streets sacred. Uli is not sure how to tread on sacred ground. Surely every other pedestrian on the sidewalk can see that he's never been here, that he doesn't belong here, that only by the grace of Steban's leave is he permitted to traverse here. Is he imagining it, or are the locals giving him hostile looks? Hostile looks out of black pool eyes...

"What's with you?" Steban asks. "You've gone all fidgety."

"Sorry." Ulixes tries to get a grip. Surely if Steban has noticed, so has everyone else on the street. Noticed him, the interloper, the intruder. "I just... I don't know, I feel strange. People are staring."

Steban pats his shoulder as they continue walking. "Oh, come now, they're not going to eat you. Yes, this is Madre turf, but you don't have to keep squinting over your shoulder. I doubt you'll meet even one banger today."

Ulixes feels like his brain is lagging behind. He hadn't been thinking of any of that sort of thing at all... or had he? Somehow, subconsciously? "Uh... what turf?"

"La Puta Madre. You know, the gang. They're not that interesting, they're just like the RCM or something." Steban shrugs. "No need to be such a gringo about it."

"Sorry." Ulixes lowers his eyes, appropriately chastised. Steban must see him hunch in on himself, because he squeezes his shoulder again.

"Hey, it's no big deal," he says, because he's just that nice, and intuitive. Or maybe...?

--

Ulixes tries to huddle in a doorway, but it only provides scant protection from the rain. He doesn't have an umbrella, or the right clothes for being out in this weather, and he hadn't planned on it either. He'd planned on a nice, cozy afternoon of drinking coffee inside, maybe reading, maybe chatting, maybe listening to the radio, perhaps even making some love if the evening took them that way. But then Steban got that faraway look in his eyes that he sometimes gets and started muttering about there being "something in the wind" and that he had to "get out to it", rubbing his arms as if suddenly chilly. Idly, Ulixes wondered - and still wonders - if Steban got his hands on some kinds of drugs somehow.

(That would be alarming.)

He raised his reasonable concerns about the weather and the chill and the weirdness of it all, but Steban had brushed him off and said again, "There is something in the wind," in an urgent-sounding tone, and now he's standing out in the rain with his head tilted upwards, eyes closed, arms spread at his sides, listening intently. He's getting soaked to the bone. His hair and clothes stick to him. Still, there's a blissful little smile on his face - whatever he's listening to, it is in some way making him happy.

Uli crosses his arms. The cold is starting to get to him. He's sure he sees people passing by, huddled up in their coats, giving them irritated looks from beneath their umbrellas.

"Steban, come on, this is getting seriously weird. You're going to catch your death out here. People are staring."

Steban only raises a hand in his direction, pointer finger extended, Wait. Be silent. His eyes do not open. His lips move silently.

"What? What is it?" Ulixes shouts across the empty plaza.

Steban's eyes still do not open. "In a basement pub on Boogie Street, a man has just lit his cigarette the wrong way round by accident," he announces. "To the North, down the coast, three men are pissing into the canal. Competitively. No-hands-style."

"Grand revelations," says Ulixes.

"Whatever else it is, she says it is not yet time." Steban lowers his hands and blinks. "Like I'm not ready yet. Still, she's there. Isn't it amazing?"

"She?" Uli asks, and thinks, would that I could see what you see.

--

A day after this, Ulixes wakes up to golden morning light filtering in through the window, and Steban shifting languidly in his arms, still mostly asleep. He murmurs something unintelligible and nestles closer and wraps an arm around Uli's skinny chest, and it's a moment worthy of preserving in amber and gold, the kind of moment he'll remember to cheer himself up during harsher times. And ever so briefly, in this moment without thought and barrier and pretense, everything seems to slot into place, the universe to right itself. And in the quiet of his own mind, still in that floaty place between waking and sleep, Ulixes becomes convinced he can feel a current of drowsy, pleased emotions permeate his mindscape that are not quite his own, that feel sun-warmed and shimmery, and smell like soap and herbal shampoo and library shelves, and taste like a hint of some mellow, spiced tobacco: finally, real, actual Stebanthoughts.

Warm,

the sun-yellow feeling whispers,

Safe.

Pleasured.

Affectionate.

Then Steban's eyelids flutter and he drops off again, his breathing deepening.

Later, when he wakes up properly, maybe Ulixes will decide that he imagined this, or that it was a fragment of a dream, nothing more. Perhaps he will be right. But then again... who can say for certain? For now, he closes his eyes again, and permits himself to bask in the complete contentment he was given.

[voidshrubsquared]

Addi oc lore!!! For the only proper addi oc I have!!! She's a purple addi and her name is Mobi L. Addison (ahaha so creative I know-)

Putting a cut here cause this is. Long

As her name suggests, she does mobile game advertising! The really obnoxious and weird and annoying kind <3 Very energetic, playful and excitable before the Incident :)

Okok so. Lore. Mobi was part of a small department of 3 ads. Her, a pink and an orange. They did smaller scale campaigns and stuff like banners in less populated websites and such. One day their orange addi got a sweet deal from a big company that would have him work at a different part of town. It was a lot of cash, and the other two encouraged him to take it. With a bit of hesitation he did, and they had a celebration and everything. Big promotion day!!!

Their orange left, and for a while he'd send texts, emails, and his sum of money to take care of bills and pay off the house and such. Then... texts became scarce, he became busier, and the money trickled to a stop. He didn't come back for the vacation they had planned months in advance. He just. Left them. What a dick >:/

Realizing this, Mo and Locke (the pink, also nicknamed Lucky), both upset but not having a lot of time to process the abandonment, had to take extra work from wherever they could to keep the house, pay bills, and keep their sales up. It was very stressful, but they were able to stay afloat for a good while. They were able to keep positive about things and even grew closer together as friends! Locke was. Clearly interested in being more than friends, but Mo was very oblivious of her advances and only saw her as a friend (she didn't know until waaaaay later, but she's aroace). And things were good! Until the INCIDENT MWAHAHAHA

So one day, Mobi did her usual morning routine, said goodbye to Locke as they went their separate ways to work until sundown, and then when she came back, Lucky wasn't home yet. Which is weird!!! Because she comes home hours before Mo!!!! Mobi sends a few texts, no dice. She makes a few phone calls, straight to voice mail. Oh no.

Like how all missing persons' cases go, eventually there's a police search, posters go up, several restless nights... After long hours of waiting for something, anything, the only thing that is found is Lucky's car parked in the grass somewhere way out of the outskirts of the city. It seemed like she was planning to return to it, because she'd left it running, and they found it out of battery. That's all they know about her, and that's all Mobi will ever know about what happened to her. (Maybe. I might let her know in the future I'm not sure.)

But you get to know!!! Heck yeah!!!! So!!!

Lucky was trying her best to help Mo out and lighten the load a little, y'know? So she may or may not. Gotten into some. Reeeeally shady business. But!! It paid well!! It totally wasn't running errands and occasionally clesning up the dirty work of a company that may or may not maybe perhaps mayhaps. Abduct people to use as snuff film props. Ahaha. Noooo. Definitely not that. Uhm. Well anyways you can guess how that ended up for her. Once she made one too many mistakes and wasn't as useful as before, well!!

At least there's a tape with evidence of her on-camera death somewhere out there. Maybe that's how Mo finds out, actually!

Anyways. So obviously Locke's disappearance leaves Mobi incredibly devastated. She barely has any time to grieve though, first she has to move out of home into a smaller apartment, she can't pay everything off by herself now. For a while, she doesn't work, sales get low, and she just. Doesn't know how to cope with this at ALL.

So!! How DO you cope with this AND work to pay rent and keep yourself alive?? Simple! Work yourself to death!!!

Mobi very healthily decides she's going to keep her mind off things by working herself until her circuits fry off. Very normal. So she goes to this big video advertising megacorp, takes as many jobs and errands as possible, and works as much as she can until she passes out from exhaustion. She becomes a veey reliable asset to the company, at least...?

Her only sustenance is coffee, energy drinks, anything that can keep her awake for as long as possible. She doesn't take sick days, she doesn't take vacation days, only works. And she enjoys it, in a way! After a month or two of initial struggles, she finds her rhythm and doesn't stop. Eventually, she forgets Locke. But she doesn't stop working! And she stays like that. For like ten years. Super exhausting, she's NOTHING like the fun, excitable addi shw used to be. She got to work for a big shot for a little while at least! If you get to see one of his old commercials, you might see her as a background actor in a few! Nowadays she mostly does video advert work, graphic design, banners, all that good stuff everyone absolutely hates. (Fun fact she loves targeting Berdly, her ads annoy him so much)

So this cycle happens for ages until there's a new addition to the company that changes everything for her. See, Mobi doesn't have friends. She doesn't have time for friends! She just works!! And then this GOOF of a yellow ad joins and brightens up the place so much, that she can't help but look their way and smile. Videon the silly goof. The plinko. (Listen I was so deep into Bright's addi lore here, I couldn't help myself-) Fun fact I chose Vid specifically for this because canonically they take a job where they aren't as home as often after the whole Spamton disappearing thing. So yeah

Mobi likes this ad, they're loud and playful and love hanging out and goofing off on stage, off stage, mischievous little shit. And it... snaps Mo out of her routine little by little. She starts interacting with them, saying hi when they come in, laughing at their stupid jokes, thinking 'wait that'd be so funny' when they suggest they do something clearly dumb. Why do you want to dump all those pounds of glitter on the actors for this commercial. No, get away from the glitter, gET AWAY-

So Mo warms up to them, and she starts conversations with them!! They start out casual until Vid makes one of those suggestions, and Mo can't catch herself when she gets excited and adds onto it. And oh god suddenly they are friends. Oh god oh no. We are so doomed guys. The more she hangs out with Vid, the more that playfulness and energy returns to her. She starts dropping a few of her dozens of jobs to take WEEKENDS off. Dear god her co-workers look at each other like she grew a second head. But she loves it. She loves hanging out with this new friend, talking to them, doing dumb stuff like pour a bottle of bubble bath into a fountain and running away from a disaster that ends up on the newspaper the next day (they never got caught). She likes inviting them home! Crashing at their place and meeting their department! Accidentally thrashing the place with them! (They did get caught and had to do all house chores for the next month. Still worth it.)

Finally, they get to that level of friendship where you can open up to one another about Life and Philosophy and Problems and Stuff. So they do, and Mo remembers that 'oh yeah. I never really grieved my friend's disappearance. I'm gonna cry for an hour now.' And she does, and Vid does too, they bond over their lost friends, talk about them, reminisce about their happy memories turned sour. Vid gets to talk about Spamton without any BLUE GUMBALL BITCH BOYS SHUNNING THEM ABOUT IT ahem huh what what was that. Uh. And Mobi gets to remember her fun times with Lucky, and share how much she hates that orange addi that I never bothered to name! This is when she learns she's aroace also. And Vid informs her Lucky obviously had a huge crush on her. Oh! Welp! Something new to process, hopefully properly this time.

Okay this is getting real long. I don't have much after this, except for the idea that Vid could offer helping to find anything they can about Lucky, any info at all, just to try and help her get some closure. She offers the same for them and Spamton's missing case. They wouldn't find anything Spam related, but they would find a lead for Lucky. And it leads them to perhaps a dangerous ARG-type rabbit-hole where they find documents of Lucky's involvement with the snuff film company, a copy of the tape of the film involving her death, and maybe even enough evidence for the authorities to launch a big investigation that saves dozens of missing ads and bringd closure to hundreds more. I like that, I think I'll make it canon. Like a buddy-cop thriller type thing or something idk.

Ok wow that was a lot. That's all I have/remember of the Mobi lore!!! Thanks for reading all this way if you did!! Woah!!!! I'm starving I'm gonna go eat BYEEEE

OH AND I SHOULD ADD HER REF SHEET TOO LEMME JUST

There we go!

( @emiplayzmc @yanderespamton78 and why not, @turntableart @solalunar-eclipse I told you guys about this but I don't remember how much so uhhh ye :3)

[kiwibeanv]

Astray in the Black Water: Post-Chapter 2 -> Chuuya

Fatal Frame 5 x Bungo Stray Dogs Crossover x fem! reader

Flashbacks of dying shrine maidens plagued your dreams. A knife cutting into you, a man gouging your eyes, being forced into a reliquary, and seeing people commit suicide before your eyes. You woke up with a racing heartbeat. Those dreams felt too real. Not even the emptiness of your home could console you. Footsteps creek along the floorboards, yet you swear you lived alone. Random whispers that you thought were in your head.

A restless night was no excuse to close your café for the day. You at least let in your workers and made arrangements for your absence that day. With the warm sun rising, ghostly activity slowed down and you had a better moment of peace.

You didn't rise from your bed until your phone rang. It was your coworker calling you that you had a visitor who wished to speak with you. Assuring them that you will attend, you got yourself dressed and ready.

Emerging from the diamond door, you immediately spot the man with a hat sitting on his head. He sat on the stool of your counter, playing with the napkin on the table. Hearing the sound of the door opening and closing, he turned to you and you recognized his face. The same man Dazai was familiar with. However, you couldn't recall hearing his name.

"Good morning," you greet as you settle behind the counter at the edge where he sat. "I hope you did not wait long?"

"Mornin'," Chuuya crumpled the napkin in his hand. "Nah only a little." He studied your face. "You look like you didn't get your full eight hours."

"Ah, I did came home very late," you took a seat. "I never got your name."

"Nakahara Chuuya. You?"

"(Last Name) (First Name). A pleasure meeting you."

Chuuya nods his head and repeats your name in his head. "Likewise. So about my case..." He cleared his throat and sat up. "Need your help looking for a dear friend of mine. Last known location was in that same mountain you were in yesterday with those punks."

You raised your brow. "How long ago did she go missing?"

"Four days by now. The sooner you search, the better. I'd like to join you, but I got a busy day today. I'm available tonight, though."

"It's not safe going at that time. Just last night, I witnessed more spirit activity."

Chuuya frowned. "Shit... but don't you have fancy equipment to do something about those ghosts?"

"I do, however, it is still risky."

"I'm coming anyways. Four days is too long. I can't wait any longer."

"Alright..." You reached for a notepad on the counter. "So... where and when should we meet up?"

"I'm gonna see if I can make it at..." Chuuya paused to think over his schedule. Whatever he had planned, it really depended if the job gets done fast. "Put it down for 7PM. I might come in sooner. Oh and here in this quaint café of yours."

You wrote the note down with a nod.

"Oh! By the way," Chuuya rested his chin on his hand. "You don't... plan on visiting Dazai?"

"I do need to stop by the office for a report today," you replied.

"Look, hand me a paper and pen."

You passed the pen and the notepad to him. He wrote down his phone number and signed his name.

"Here's my number. Not just to contact you about this case," he slid the notepad back to you. "But I know a lot of things about Dazai. He's the worst person to be around with, let alone date him. So, if he happens to trouble you or you got any questions, I'm the guy you should talk to."

You studied his handwriting on the notepad. It was neatly written and his cursive signature was so elegant. "And why should I be concerned about Dazai?"

"I have a long list of reasons. He lies, he's manipulative, doesn't pay his bills. As soon as you are done with the ADA, ditch 'em. Mainly Dazai, but I think you get the point."

"I see..." you stood up from your seat. "Well, tonight we meet here again. I will finish my business and... see you then."

Chuuya got up from his seat.

"Mhmm. See ya."

He tipped his hat before leaving the café. Once he disappeared, you gathered your things before you left to the ADA.

Optional Post-Chapter Content: ADA (Go in order descending)

-> Kunikida

-> Atsushi

-> Dazai

Else, here is the next chapter link.

-> Chapter 3

[topconfessions]

[ask] hi.. I’m one of the newly obsessed Tops fans after watching squid game.. since he first shows up on screen I’m like “this character seems he could be an idol…and this dude is really really good at playing an idol..very natural” and then did my little research and here I am now in your inbox.. so.. I’m same age as top so I’d say I might have considered my self too old for boy bands back in the 2010s (but I am not NOW at 37 lol) and I’ve entirely missed his golden and dark days and I genuinely want to understand what the hell is going on with him.. I’m so intrigued by what I saw TOP was when performing, how shy and posed he was off stage for example in interviews, how quirky and random (and I agree he might be high functioning neurospicy) and so talented and classy and all over the place with his interests passions and work projects.. like.. I guess I wanna know him or his story a bit more, from people who were there this whole time.. I mean.. has he really tried to unalive himself? That pic of him in a wheelchair seemed staged to me no? Like why would there be pictures of someone after something like that.. if not for spectacle or pity? I mean I don’t know what to think or what to believe.. but I’d love to know your perspective (while I keep reading your blog in search of more answers).

Also in my humble opinion his role in sg was the perfect contrast to the heavy sense of doom the rest of the players were giving off.. it made the whole thing even darker cuz he was intentionally out of place mentally basically..I reckon it was a genius move, from a cinematic standpoint.

Im not Korean so I can’t possibly understand their culture, unfortunately, nor their unforgiveness and strict morality around drugs and whole the hate towards him, but I believe the hype now and the new international fans will boost his confidence.. I’m convinced it must take a lot of courage to do what he did, despite his reasons (broke or not, fame thirst or whatever) which we’ll never know obvs.. he should show up for promotion tho.. put up a poker face and expose himself if he wants to heal the wounds..

I have felt a lot of compassion towards him and I’d love to get to know his past a bit more.. if you’d like to share some of your stories or even just recommendations of reliable sources where I can get an idea of who is was/is.

Thank you so much and sorry for my venting 😅

I think I'll have to go back and compile a list of links and sources for it all, but he did try to unalive himself when he was younger when he was briefly (and secretly) dating Kim Woo Bins current girlfriend (finance? Wife??) Shin Min Ah. They had a bad break up and everything wasn't working out well. He has some mental health struggles but he recovered a lot from that point. It was way before I'd say their big album Alive. Alive in 2012 was a turning point for their career.

Didn't he have like an anxiety attack or panic attack? Pills? Damnit. I gotta go comb through netizenbuzz blog (type netizenbuzz into google then enter T.O.P or bigbang into the search. Enter his name any way you can to see the list of stories). He did say that the industry teeats idols like Machines. He doesn't like the idol industry and made it clear how toxic the working conditions can be in that interview for the magazine where he has white hair and angel wings behind him.

He is multiple dimensional so while I do feel he was acting out an exaggerated caricature of his worse time in the industry some years ago, he really is one of the most intelligent and sophisticated men in the idol world for real, his art history and painting knowledge is incredibly expansive. I'll tell you now, my interest in him helped me land a great job once cause I learned so much about art through paying attention to him lol. I really wish he would go back to that.

I do miss the old top. But nearly everyone changes eventually while some people stay the same. I wish he was kinda like GD and consistency with his personality and interests.

What do you think of his wine so far? Like his investment in that? I think he should've pushed it harder, as hard as the space x project and create a non alcohol version of it so all fans of legal age can drink it.

Theres so much to unpack and revisit. But yes to all of this.

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

Why I always think the "harmonic convergence" and "dark avatar" arcs would work better in Aang's saga than they do in Korra's.

If we look at the core central themes of ATLA and TLOK and establish them and their main characters as direct foils, ATLA is about a human becoming a god while TLOK is about a god learning to be more human.

But how they execute those themes is not that great. They're almost executed in the reversed way, accidently perhaps.

If what Iroh said is true and everyone would despise Iroh for reclaiming his stolen birthright, why don't those same repercussions apply to Zuko? Iroh enabled Zuko to attack his sister for a position of power, aka, the very thing Iroh said was a bad idea and "couldn't" do himself. Iroh may have thought he would have to kill Ozai and figured he'd be hated for that but did it not occur to him that Zuko would've likely had to kill Azula, had she been in her A-game? Does Ozai's life somehow matter more than Azula's?

During the first week as fire lord, Zuko was already dealing with rebellion problems and refusal from the public of the change of regimes, exactly as Iroh described. Iroh would most likely deal with it but is he somehow more fragile to criticism than Zuko? In the search, Zuko could just casually leave Iroh in charge with no issue and nothing bad happens, making what Iroh said even more pointless.

Everyone keeps saying that it's only Aang's destiny to stop Ozai in order to put an end to the 100-year war but there's no clear reason as to why. The showrunners might say it's because he's somehow "the strongest firebender there is" but the fact that they felt like they had to say it instead of show it proves that they didn't do that good of a job building him up.

Even their word wasn't enough to change the Iroh fandom's minds and instead of staying true to their word and having Iroh at least say, point blank, that he does not stand a chance against Ozai, Iroh just says "he doesn't know," clearly setting up bait of the possibility of Iroh being the winner. But even if that happened, it would just make Iroh look pathetic for he's just letting Ozai walk all over him. Like he studied all the nations except the earth one. Because there's evidence to suggest that Iroh is a clear winner here.

Iroh was actually a soldier who knows non-bending combat, he understands battle strategies, has experience in various battles, mastered both negative and positive sides of firebending, and even came up with new fighting techniques as a result of studying all other nations. Ozai would often flip a Pai Sho board and burn the pieces whenever he lost a game to Iroh, heavily implying that Iroh won nearly every game. So, Iroh was always better than Ozai at everything. To top it off, Iroh is firstborn, which means the throne is rightfully his, Ozai stole it from him. Why would it be a big deal to the public if Iroh got back what is rightfully his but not so much if Zuko does it?

Even if Ozai did have an edge, being the best firebender is one thing, all other non-avatar benders having the same level of mastery over their element, such as all members of the white lotus and team avatar, that is another. Is Ozai strong enough to waste off the rest of the white lotus and team avatar all by himself? A lot of people doubt it. I guess we'll never know for sure because he's never given any action scenes beyond one with Aang. Katara had never even seen the guy.

In short, in ATLA, the world did not need the avatar as much as the premise and characters insist; some of the characters are either shortsighted or incompetent fanatics who refuse to grab hold of their destiny and command it which is odd because "making one's own destiny" is one of the avatar franchise's core themes.

Then we have TLOK. That series had a knack for making its big bads ridiculously overpowered, overpowered enough to give Korra a hard time, even at her peak. The most infamous example being the back half of season 2.

Harmonic Convergence. A supernatural phenomenon that occurs once every ten thousand years. When the planets align, spiritual energy is greatly amplified, causing the spirit portals to emerge. During this event, Raava and Vaatu engage in a battle that determines the fate of the world until the next Harmonic Convergence.

This event COMPLETELY blows the 100-year war and the Sozin's comet events WAY out of the water. Plus, Vaatu is written to be more powerful and more evil than every other avatar antagonist combined and they introduce an actual thing called "the dark avatar." Raava, aka, the avatar spirit, isn't just a foil to Vaatu but his only weakness.

This all looks way too big for any non-avatar to handle, Wan and Aang's stories parallel each other drastically, and the avatar cycle can be traced back to Vaatu's influence. It took everything Korra had to destroy him temporarily.

I always see Ozai and Vaatu as the same person because it would make more sense now on why only the avatar must face him, preferably after he's mastered his bending arts, chakras, and avatar state to their fullest extent. Regardless of how strong team avatar and white lotus are, the avatar would be his one true weakness. Plus Ozai is so flat and one-note with no single redeeming quality that you could hardly notice any difference between him and Vaatu personality-wise. If it was actually canon that Ozai was Vaatu in human form the whole time, I doubt it'd surprise anyone.

In short, in TLOK, the world needed the avatar WAY more than ever before despite what the premise and characters would have you believe.

[surely-galena]

Hey Galena!

Just a lil something i've been thinking about: How did Vincent meet Marius?

They're like the same age so they had to have met at presumably school or somewhere but to go from classmates to working for Marius? There's a story here and we're not getting it.

What are your thoughts on this? (back again with increasing Galena's Marius posts)

Hi hi Rose!

I'm so sorry for the delayed response, the combination of me being busy + the time it took to think about the ask (because it's really interesting!) meant that I took much longer to answer than I normally would.

[WC: 0.9K]

Actually for some reason I had assumed Vincent was a little older than Marius (thus following the pattern of Marius being the boss of people older than him), but I looked Vincent up in the ToT wiki and there is no canonical age. And it's true, Vincent does look really young! He could honestly pass off as 19 if he really wanted to!

But: to be able to work for the von Hagens, one thing is clear: you have to be exceptional. And since Vincent has been working for Marius for what seems like a fairly long time now (since he's trusted to do NXX work), I'm guessing he's probably around 20-ish by now.

So that brings us all back to what you said: he's probably super close in age to Marius.

We know that Payton has been working for the von Hagens since he was in his 20's (Blizzardous Threads of Red), and so there's no reason to think that it's not the same with Marius.

But let's follow the timeline: Marius only returns to Stellis after the Giann incident, which means we can probably surmise that Vincent only started working for him around then (the exception being: Vincent worked for Giann before and was just sorta... transferred). This isn't a long time at all, it's actually about the same amount of time Marius has known Vyn (which hey, means he got introduced to Vyn and Vincent, the two... uh.. Vin's).

So this is possibility #1.

Marius needs a P.A., Vincent wants an internship/job/work experience at a nice company so he can get some good things to put on his CV. For various reasons we'll brush over, he arrives at Pax and that's when Marius meets him (possibly through a series of interviews where Marius and/or Austin search for a good P.A.).

These are the Personal Assistant Trials, or PAT, if you will, where Vincent eventually comes out as candidate number one.

This feels to me like a fairly logical thing that could happen, but I also want to explore the other possibilities that could have occurred -- I mean canon hasn't said anything, so until then I have lots of space to play around with!

Possibility #2: Meet Cute (but platonic)

So let's say the whole PAT thing never actually happened, or that it did happen but Marius wasn't satisfied with the applicants (because they were all insincere or not the right fit or something).

Let's say Marius is still searching for the perfect assistant and Vincent, a fellow college student, is looking for a part time job to pay the bills. Maybe something happens where Vincent demonstrates his Highly Capable Skills and Marius decides to offer him an interview.

Like: it's 2 in the morning and Marius and Vincent end up being the only students left in the library, Marius because he really needs to finish an essay that was actually due at midnight and Vincent is there for... whatever.

Marius is absolutely exhausted, he's had a long day with classes and dealing with Pax and other people, and then he glances over at Vincent, who for some reason is still going strong. Like, he's typing on a computer with one hand and photocopying a textbook chapter in the other, and in the extra seconds where he doesn't need to hold down the textbook, he's crossing off various things on his to-do list.

Marius leans over and sees one of the things on the to-do list is a bit less easy to check off, like get a job or go to an interview, and his 2 am brain puts two and two together. He fumbles around for his business card and takes that leap of faith.

Possibility #3: They knew each other from the start

Okay, last scenario for now.

Actually, this one is where I try to explain why exactly Marius trusts Vincent so much, and it's if they had already met. Like, maybe Vincent was one of the good kids at school, like not just a good kid in the academic sense, but actually good to him. Maybe it went like this: Vincent never tried to take advantage of him, Vincent always smiled at him in the hallway, Vincent always offered him a juice box when he brought extra.

And so as they grow up and go their separate ways: with Marius taken out of school after the freezer incident and then later going off to Florence to pursue art, and Vincent doing... whatever Vincent does. (Accounting? Economics?) And when Marius returns to Stellis, now in need of someone he can count on, and he thinks of that one smart, quiet kid in class who had always been nice to him. He tracks him down eventually and they catch up, exchanging general how have you been's and what have you been up to's. Vincent admits that he's been looking for a job now, but hasn't had any luck since he's got virtually nothing on his CV. And something clicks in Marius' mind as he realizes there is a way they can both get what they want.

So yeah! I'm sure there are loads of other possibilities as to how they met, but this is what I have for now. Marius and Vincent's friendship is pretty subtle and lowkey in canon, but I genuinely think that they both care for each other in some way -- especially, again, if Marius trusts him enough with NXX work. Now that I think of it, we totally should have more Marius & Vincent content that isn't just "hey Vincent look at this database for me" / "okay cool be back in five".

Thanks for stopping by Rose!! I had a lot of fun with this ask :D