#and in the end it will lead you back to industry anyway

[sapphia]

Okay, I’m not an expert and I know nothing about the US, but I’ve done some research into my own country’s green energy and how that’s categorised, so I might have some helpful comparisons.

Reading your difficulties, it seems that the issue is you’re looking at it from the perspective of what segment of society is causing the emissions, but are running into the problem of different emissions being able to be classed in different ways. You’re not looking at the sources of emissions, but the summary of ALL emissions, and that data can be dense and often poorly collected or presented. And this is just too wide, because one source can be multiple categories.

Take electricity, for instance. In most countries, electricity isn’t actually very “green” at all because a vast amount of it is still made with fossil fuels, especially coal. Even in a very green system, small amount of fossil fuel burning is generally going to be required for periods of high demand, and not all green energy is universally appropriate for every country/state. But Aotearoa has 80% renewables, so when we do heat our house in the winter with electricity, or buy our electric cars, we know that this genuinely is the much better option than coal ranges and petrol vehicles. But the US has about 20% renewables, so while switching to an EV is better for the environment, your fuel is still going to be 80% fossil fuels. That’s to say, a US person driving an EV is doing less environmental good than a New Zealander, because they’re still emitting more, and the cause of that is industry, which is entirely out of the control of the individual consumer.

And I’m still not sure which category this is emission comes under for the US. If it’s an EV, it probably come under home emissions because it’s powered by residential electricity, even though that electric is generated by coal. And even though people don’t really have a choice in how that electricity is created — they just get it from the providers in their state, who’ve already decided how much emissions per Watt will be produced when they designed the plant — it’s still framed as “personal choice” issue. Buy the lower emitting heat source. Buy the EV. Buy the energy-conserving fridge. But the reality is, whatever choice you make is largely irrelevant when you’re burning 80% no renewables to power it, and when it’s a CHOICE to buy an energy-saving fridge, and not a default method of manufacture so that ALL fridge purchasers are consuming less.

That’s why you’re so right about how consuming different stuff (and even just consuming less stuff) is unhelpful overall. You can invent electric leaf blowers and lawnmowers to fix the petrol problem, and you can legislate that they have to be used instead of fossil fuels. But we live under capitalism and there is always going to be new ways to consume; you simply can’t stop consuming all the things society relies upon operate (which are also emitting), certainly not without a total overthrow of the current economic system. Which seems like a nice idea, but we frankly just don’t have the time to wait for that. We need to make it so that they consumption isn’t as burdensome NOW, so that consumption can actually increase (because it will, and it always does) and we are still able to emit less. And to do that, the change needs to happen at the industrial level. At a political level.

I'm researching stuff about carbon emissions by state in the USA and where they are coming from and good god it really feels like the discussion of the issues is so wildly contradictory to what the issues actually are

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What the fuck is a PBM?

TOMORROW (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Terminal-stage capitalism owes its long senescence to its many defensive mechanisms, and it's only by defeating these that we can put it out of its misery. "The Shield of Boringness" is one of the necrocapitalist's most effective defenses, so it behooves us to attack it head-on.

The Shield of Boringness is Dana Claire's extremely useful term for anything so dull that you simply can't hold any conception of it in your mind for any length of time. In the finance sector, they call this "MEGO," which stands for "My Eyes Glaze Over," a term of art for financial arrangements made so performatively complex that only the most exquisitely melted brain-geniuses can hope to unravel their spaghetti logic. The rest of us are meant to simply heft those thick, dense prospectuses in two hands, shrug, and assume, "a pile of shit this big must have a pony under it."

MEGO and its Shield of Boringness are key to all of terminal-stage capitalism's stupidest scams. Cloaking obvious swindles in a lot of complex language and Byzantine payment schemes can make them seem respectable just long enough for the scammers to relieve you of all your inconvenient cash and assets, though, eventually, you're bound to notice that something is missing.

If you spent the years leading up to the Great Financial Crisis baffled by "CDOs," "synthetic CDOs," "ARMs" and other swindler nonsense, you experienced the Shield of Boringness. If you bet your house and/or your retirement savings on these things, you experienced MEGO. If, after the bubble popped, you finally came to understand that these "exotic financial instruments" were just scams, you experienced Stein's Law ("anything that can't go forever eventually stops"). If today you no longer remember what a CDO is, you are once again experiencing the Shield of Boringness.

As bad as 2008 was, it wasn't even close to the end of terminal stage capitalism. The market has soldiered on, with complex swindles like carbon offset trading, metaverse, cryptocurrency, financialized solar installation, and (of course) AI. In addition to these new swindles, we're still playing the hits, finding new ways to make the worst scams of the 2000s even worse.

That brings me to the American health industry, and the absurdly complex, ridiculously corrupt Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs), a pathology that has only metastasized since 2008.

On at least 20 separate occasions, I have taken it upon myself to figure out how the PBM swindle works, and nevertheless, every time they come up, I have to go back and figure it out again, because PBMs have the most powerful Shield of Boringness out of the whole Monster Manual of terminal-stage capitalism's trash mobs.

PBMs are back in the news because the FTC is now suing the largest of these for their role in ripping off diabetics with sky-high insulin prices. This has kicked off a fresh round of "what the fuck is a PBM, anyway?" explainers of extremely variable quality. Unsurprisingly, the best of these comes from Matt Stoller:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/monopoly-round-up-lina-khan-pharma

Stoller starts by pointing out that Americans have a proud tradition of getting phucked by pharma companies. As far back as the 1950s, Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver was holding hearings on the scams that pharma companies were using to ensure that Americans paid more for their pills than virtually anyone else in the world.

But since the 2010s, Americans have found themselves paying eye-popping, sky-high, ridiculous drug prices. Eli Lilly's Humolog insulin sold for $21 in 1999; by 2017, the price was $274 – a 1,200% increase! This isn't your grampa's price gouging!

Where do these absurd prices come from? The story starts in the 2000s, when the GW Bush administration encouraged health insurers to create "high deductible" plans, where patients were expected to pay out of pocket for receiving care, until they hit a multi-thousand-dollar threshold, and then their insurance would kick in. Along with "co-pays" and other junk fees, these deductibles were called "cost sharing," and they were sold as a way to prevent the "abuse" of the health care system.

The economists who crafted terminal-stage capitalism's intellectual rationalizations claimed the reason Americans paid so much more for health care than their socialized-medicine using cousins in the rest of the world had nothing to do with the fact that America treats health as a source of profits, while the rest of the world treats health as a human right.

No, the actual root of America's health industry's problems was the moral defects of Americans. Because insured Americans could just go see the doctor whenever they felt like it, they had no incentive to minimize their use of the system. Any time one of these unhinged hypochondriacs got a little sniffle, they could treat themselves to a doctor's visit, enjoying those waiting-room magazines and the pleasure of arranging a sick day with HR, without bearing any of the true costs:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/the-doctrine-of-moral-hazard/

"Cost sharing" was supposed to create "skin in the game" for every insured American, creating a little pain-point that stung you every time you thought about treating yourself to a luxurious doctor's visit. Now, these payments bit hardest on the poorest workers, because if you're making minimum wage, at $10 co-pay hurts a lot more than it does if you're making six figures. What's more, VPs and the C-suite were offered "gold-plated" plans with low/no deductibles or co-pays, because executives understand the value of a dollar in the way that mere working slobs can't ever hope to comprehend. They can be trusted to only use the doctor when it's truly warranted.

So now you have these high-deductible plans creeping into every workplace. Then along comes Obama and the Affordable Care Act, a compromise that maintains health care as a for-profit enterprise (still not a human right!) but seeks to create universal coverage by requiring every American to buy a plan, requiring insurers to offer plans to every American, and uses public money to subsidize the for-profit health industry to glue it together.

Predictably, the cheapest insurance offered on the Obamacare exchanges – and ultimately, by employers – had sky-high deductibles and co-pays. That way, insurers could pocket a fat public subsidy, offer an "insurance" plan that was cheap enough for even the most marginally employed people to afford, but still offer no coverage until their customers had spent thousands of dollars out-of-pocket in a given year.

That's the background: GWB created high-deductible plans, Obama supercharged them. Keep that in your mind as we go through the MEGO procedures of the PBM sector.

Your insurer has a list of drugs they'll cover, called the "formulary." The formulary also specifies how much the insurance company is willing to pay your pharmacist for these drugs. Creating the formulary and paying pharmacies for dispensing drugs is a lot of tedious work, and insurance outsources this to third parties, called – wait for it – Pharmacy Benefits Managers.

The prices in the formulary the PBM prepares for your insurance company are called the "list prices." These are meant to represent the "sticker price" of the drug, what a pharmacist would charge you if you wandered in off the street with no insurance, but somehow in possession of a valid prescription.

But, as Stoller writes, these "list prices" aren't actually ever charged to anyone. The list price is like the "full price" on the pricetags at a discount furniture place where everything is always "on sale" at 50% off – and whose semi-disposable sofas and balsa-wood dining room chairs are never actually sold at full price.

One theoretical advantage of a PBM is that it can get lower prices because it bargains for all the people in a given insurer's plan. If you're the pharma giant Sanofi and you want your Lantus insulin to be available to any of the people who must use OptumRX's formulary, you have to convince OptumRX to include you in that formulary.

OptumRX – like all PBMs – demands "rebates" from pharma companies if they want to be included in the formulary. On its face, this is similar to the practices of, say, NICE – the UK agency that bargains for medicine on behalf of the NHS, which also bargains with pharma companies for access to everyone in the UK and gets very good deals as a result.

But OptumRX doesn't bargain for a lower list price. They bargain for a bigger rebate. That means that the "price" is still very high, but OptumRX ends up paying a tiny fraction of it, thanks to that rebate. In the OptumRX formulary, Lantus insulin lists for $403. But Sanofi, who make Lantus, rebate $339 of that to OptumRX, leaving just $64 for Lantus.

Here's where the scam hits. Your insurer charges you a deductible based on the list price – $404 – not on the $64 that OptumRX actually pays for your insulin. If you're in a high-deductible plan and you haven't met your cap yet, you're going to pay $404 for your insulin, even though the actual price for it is $64.

Now, you'd think that your insurer would put a stop to this. They chose the PBM, the PBM is ripping off their customers, so it's their job to smack the PBM around and make it cut this shit out. So why would the insurers tolerate this nonsense?

Here's why: the PBMs are divisions of the big health insurance companies. Unitedhealth owns OptumRx; Aetna owns Caremark, and Cigna owns Expressscripts. So it's not the PBM that's ripping you off, it's your own insurance company. They're not just making you pay for drugs that you're supposedly covered for – they're pocketing the deductible you pay for those drugs.

Now, there's one more entity with power over the PBM that you'd hope would step in on your behalf: your boss. After all, your employer is the entity that actually chooses the insurer and negotiates with them on your behalf. Your boss is in the driver's seat; you're just along for the ride.

It would be pretty funny if the answer to this was that the health insurance company bought your employer, too, and so your boss, the PBM and the insurer were all the same guy, busily swapping hats, paying for a call center full of tormented drones who each have three phones on their desks: one labeled "insurer"; the second, "PBM" and the final one "HR."

But no, the insurers haven't bought out the company you work for (yet). Rather, they've bought off your boss – they're sharing kickbacks with your employer for all the deductibles and co-pays you're being suckered into paying. There's so much money (your money) sloshing around in the PBM scamoverse that anytime someone might get in the way of you being ripped off, they just get cut in for a share of the loot.

That is how the PBM scam works: they're fronts for health insurers who exploit the existence of high-deductible plans in order to get huge kickbacks from pharma makers, and massive fees from you. They split the loot with your boss, whose payout goes up when you get screwed harder.

But wait, there's more! After all, Big Pharma isn't some kind of easily pushed-around weakling. They're big. Why don't they push back against these massive rebates? Because they can afford to pay bribes and smaller companies making cheaper drugs can't. Whether it's a little biotech upstart with a cheaper molecule, or a generics maker who's producing drugs at a fraction of the list price, they just don't have the giant cash reserves it takes to buy their way into the PBMs' formularies. Doubtless, the Big Pharma companies would prefer to pay smaller kickbacks, but from Big Pharma's perspective, the optimum amount of bribes extracted by a PBM isn't zero – far from it. For Big Pharma, the optimal number is one cent higher than "the maximum amount of bribes that a smaller company can afford."

The purpose of a system is what it does. The PBM system makes sure that Americans only have access to the most expensive drugs, and that they pay the highest possible prices for them, and this enriches both insurance companies and employers, while protecting the Big Pharma cartel from upstarts.

Which is why the FTC is suing the PBMs for price-fixing. As Stoller points out, they're using their powers under Section 5 of the FTC Act here, which allows them to shut down "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The case will be adjudicated by an administrative law judge, in a process that's much faster than a federal court case. Once the FTC proves that the PBM scam is illegal when applied to insulin, they'll have a much easier time attacking the scam when it comes to every other drug (the insulin scam has just about run its course, with federally mandated $35 insulin coming online, just as a generation of post-insulin diabetes treatments hit the market).

Obviously the PBMs aren't taking this lying down. Cigna/Expressscripts has actually sued the FTC for libel over the market study it conducted, in which the agency described in pitiless, factual detail how Cigna was ripping us all off. The case is being fought by a low-level Reagan-era monster named Rick Rule, whom Stoller characterizes as a guy who "hangs around in bars and picks up lonely multi-national corporations" (!!).

The libel claim is a nonstarter, but it's still wild. It's like one of those movies where they want to show you how bad the cockroaches are, so there's a bit where the exterminator shows up and the roaches form a chorus line and do a kind of Busby Berkeley number:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/news/2024-09-20-the-carlton-report

So here we are: the FTC has set out to euthanize some rentiers, ridding the world of a layer of useless economic middlemen whose sole reason for existing is to make pharmaceuticals as expensive as possible, by colluding with the pharma cartel, the insurance cartel and your boss. This conspiracy exists in plain sight, hidden by the Shield of Boringness. If I've done my job, you now understand how this MEGO scam works – and if you forget all that ten minutes later (as is likely, given the nature of MEGO), that's OK: just remember that this thing is a giant fucking scam, and if you ever need to refresh yourself on the details, you can always re-read this post.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[maryleclerc]

𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞* — charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader

face claim: gigi hadid

summary: in which y/n and charles leclerc has been dated for several years, but they broke up and y/n find out she was pregnant but charles leclerc never it was his child.

warning: pregnancy, single mother, this is an social media au!, it’s just an imagination so please don’t take it seriously. before you read it, charles in this will be an arse so if you don’t like it you don’t have to read. i CHANGE alexandra username, just use as face-claim

i don’t own any of these images, also does not have any pregnancy experience

haven’t decide who will reader end up with so you can recom whoever reader should end up with OR maybe just like the title name, single mom. also don’t know which gender baby should be so im open up to you guys opinion!! 🤍 also please let me know what you think after read this au!. thank you!!

yournameupdates

1,033,891 Likes

yournameupdates Y/n Y/l/n reportedly reveals to Glamour Magazine that she will take a break from Model Industry after this week fashion runway with Versace Winter Collection. In the interview, she quote “It’s a little too overwhelming for me, and after 8 long years working in the modeling industry, I think maybe this is the right time for me to get little rest and spend time with my parents, siblings and loves one.” she also quote “I’ll come back next year, so don’t forget who I am”

Also don’t forget to watch “Y/N Y/L/N Answers The Web Most Searched Question!”

View all comments

y/nthegurl It’s just too much for her, so many things happen this year from the break up with Charles 3 months ago to everything that lead to this, she deserve someone better than him!!! Just 3 months he already move on

loverfory/n We will wait for you!!

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername at mama papa !! 🧸🤍

View all comments

georgiaorlandoo Haven’t seen you since the broke up between you with Charles. But anyway, how are you?

⤷ yourusername I’m doing great!!! 🤍

⤷ henrypatinston_ @georgiaorlando Why did they broke up?

⤷ georgiaorlando Out of love, oviously ☹️

forevercharlesandy/n I will wait for you to come back!!

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, megansaintmleux and 3,451,902 others

charles_leclerc LA with my beloved @megansaintmleux

View all comments

y/nsgoddess Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

ginnag_ People say whatever they want but i know he’s happy with his new partner

spilltheteahere I miss Y/n and Charles era 😩 i cannot believe it’s GONE!!

deuxmoi

1,751,822 likes

deuxmoi The first pictures of Y/n after her announce of taking a “break”. Congratulation Y/n Y/l/n!!

View comments

lannister122 What? she PREGNANT?

babessbos I’m not surprise, know this will happen, just sooner or later

jessicawreen I wonder if Charles knows anything? @ihavethebesst

⤷ ihavethebesst Idek, like he’s already move on so i don’t even want to talk about it

[ to be continue ]

[hwachronicles]

▸ My Masterpiece. ✦ P.SH

♡ - seonghwa x fem!reader

! - mini plot, fashion designer!seonghwa, model!reader & smut [ praise, biting, marking, quickie (kinda), vaginal sex, cum swallowing, use of pet names (doll, love, & baby) ]. — MDNI !

✧ - wc = 1.3k!

୨ৎ - i’m back w more hwa ♡ hhng idk much abt the fashion industry so I’m sorry if anything is off >< “Marsent” is like Mars + sent ★ likes & reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡ please enjoy ^^

——————

“Look at you. My, you’re absolutely stunning, my love.”

You smiled at the compliment as you confidently walked down the marble runway—proudly wearing the newest piece your beloved friend ( and boss ) created with his own blood, sweat, and tears. Now, there was no fashion show for this dress to make its debut at, only a photoshoot, but you looked like you were ready for Paris Fashion Week—but maybe one day.

“Think so? I want to do this dress justice; are you entirely sure I’m the perfect one to model it?” Seonghwa scoffed, meeting you at the end of the runway, “Am I sure? When have you ever given me a reason not to choose you for my shoots?” Everything about you fits the style his brand, Marsent, exudes. Your overwhelming beauty, class, confidence, and passion for fashion caught his eye, and he knew he just had to have you. 

“True," You giggled, your hands reaching to rest on his shoulder, sneaking in a light massage, “I think I just wanted to hear you say that.” An airy groan led to a chuckle, he didn’t mean to take the massage so seriously—your hands just felt so good to him. “Ah.. I knew that, I just played along anyway. Now.. let’s get you over to the setup for the shoot.”

Cameras flashed as they focused on you. “Beautiful, Y/N. Now, can we get a close-up?” or you would hear, “Gorgeous…let’s get you positioned like this…” This environment was perfect for you; all the cameras, lights, creativity, the adoring eyes of the staff, just everything—you had no issue with getting into your element. You also made no mistakes during the shoot; every picture came out just how you and Seonghwa both had envisioned it—you wondered if it was because he was watching.

You would often sneak a few glances over to Seonghwa’s way, practically able to hear exactly what he was thinking. He wasn’t exactly discreet about his feelings for you—and neither were you. You just didn’t want the entire truth about the relationship between you two to come out. 

“You did wonderful. I’ll let you see every shot once we’re finished, okay?” The photographer, Wooyoung, excitedly whispered to you, bringing you out of your trance by patting your shoulder. You genuinely smiled at his excitement and support, quickly giving him your thanks before he continued, “Let’s take a 30-minute break! Can we get Ms. Y/N’s new outfit ready in her changing room for the next concept?” Immediately after Wooyoung called for a break, Seonghwa took your hand—leading you to a private break room.

He quickly locked the door, sitting you down on the couch in front of him. "I can’t just stand back and admire you anymore—I need to touch you." Him admitting this wasn't a surprise to you, nor was it new. You slowly sat up, happily giving him access to the zipper. “You looked so perfect.” He made quick but gentle work of getting you out of the dress. “Oh? I did notice how you were staring me down,” You smirked, slipping out of the dress slowly—almost teasing him. “You were just impatiently waiting for Wooyoung to ask for a break, weren't y-“

Seonghwa snaked his hand to the base of your neck, instantly cutting you off with a heated kiss. You willingly fell into it, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt—you swiftly unbuttoned every button of his shirt and even the buckle of his belt. You haphazardly tossed it over towards the conference table across the room, only focused on deepening the kiss. He caught it though, pointing at the table with it, “Stand up for me; I need you bent over this.” He ushered you over to the long, glass table, pinning you down against it with a single hand. “S-Shit..” You hissed at the feeling of your bare chest pressed against the cold glass, your nipples hardening every second. 

He chuckled as he spread your legs further apart, already noticing how wet you are, “Damn, you weren’t lying when you said that you get—“ You cut him off with a loud mewl—pushing yourself back against him, “Oh, stop it.. please, just hurry. I don’t know how much time we have left.” Seonghwa was so lost in the moment that he truly forgot all about the rest of the shoot. He agreed, tugging his pants down with his boxers. Seonghwa gripped your hips, smacking your ass a few times while drenching his cock in your wetness before slipping it inside.

You both exhaled loudly, almost all the air in your body escaped past your lips as he begins to slowly stretch you out on his cock. “Fuck—! You can go faster, baby..” Your trembling hands scrambled over the table, trying to find purchase on the edges—almost bracing yourself for what’s to come. 

He grunted, the loud sounds of his hips snapping against your ass increasing along with your moaning and whining. “You’re too loud, baby. You must want everyone to know how good I’ve been making you feel.” You sneaking away with Seonghwa during breaks just to fuck isn’t new—you can only hope that no one has caught on yet. “I—I can’t- fuck, it feels so good..”

Suddenly, through the intercom, one of the assistants announced, “Hello everyone, we’re gonna need Ms. Y/N, Mr. Park, Mr. Jung, and all the staff who were helping to return to studio A in about 15 minutes!”

You barely even heard it though, only focusing on getting closer and closer to your peak. “So pretty like this.. always been so pretty. S-So proud of you, doll,” He breathed out, his praises only melting you more. “Thank you… god, fuck me harder,” You pleaded, trying not to let a single tear fall from the pleasure. He pulled you up, your back now pressed flush against his chest—the new angle allowing him access to that special spot deep inside you.

He bit and licked all over your neck, not even caring that everyone would see the forming marks. “Shit- my bad. T-They’ll cover it up anyways.” He shakily whispered in your ear, succumbing deeper into the pleasure. “I don’t mind— please, I’m gonna..” Seonghwa cupped his hand over your mouth, muffling your screams as that familiar knot deep inside you finally snapped. Your knees went so weak, he had to hold you so tight against himself—still chasing his own high.

Seonghwa continued to pound mercilessly into you even after you had just came; the sensitivity overwhelmed you, eliciting such pretty sounds out of you. “Fuck, fuck! I might cum again—“ A shiver ran down your spine with every snap of his hips, but you could tell he was about to reach his peak.

“Oh my god— get on your knees for me. I don’t wanna make too much of a mess of you.” You quickly dropped down to your knees, opening your doll-like mouth and allowing him to finish off on your tongue instead. “Damn.. um,” You both chuckled tiredly, he didn’t expect you to swallow it so quickly. “What?” You could only smirk, quickly going to find your panties—finally coming back to reality. 

After finishing up with getting yourselves back together, you checked in the mirror—just barely noticing the marks on your collarbone. “Hey.. you better be glad they’re barely even there yet. The next outfit will thankfully cover them enough as well.” You smiled, letting him walk you back to the main studio. His playful demeanor returned, bumping your shoulder while admitting, “Even if they did show, I wouldn’t care. I truly do want you to be mine.”

That just about made you want to request for the second half of the shoot to be completed another day—you clearly had more important things to be immersed in today.

[writingoddess1125]

How They Lost their Virginity

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy

I'm on crack- I'm sorry

Back to Masterlist <<<

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Luffy

He was 'tricked' by a Food stall worker-

Ah Luffy- The 'I'd rather eat then anything else' type of guy.

Luffy despite what most would think, he knows what sex is and blah blah- He just doesn't care about it. So when the opportunity comes his way to have sex with someone he will accept if he's bored enough.

So when a food stall worker was flirting with him while he was getting a meat on the stick, as well as a offer by the person for free food with just some Romp in the sheets. He accepts!

He got a great exercise plus a fantastic free meals whenever he stops by that village! Won't care that he gave his virginity away for the food- Not like he was using it anyway!

Sanji

Still a Virgin

HA YOU THOUGHT!

Zoro

With a Bartender

He had gotten lost- only a few years into his bounty hunting gig and still trying to figure it all out. However fortune was on his side and led him to a sleepy bar, were he chatted up the Bartender while they served him drinks.

Never having such chemistry with a person before. Drinking at the bar and chatting up the Bartender the whole night, which eventually lead to the two of them doing the frisky in the inn next door.

He'd left the next morning, but regretted it quite a bit-

He will never know exactly what bar that was so will think about thay Bartender all the time. Hoping one day the winds will bring him back to them for one of night-

Shanks

With a Dancer

It had been at a festival, not long after Roger's had been executed. He was young and wanted to distract himself from his anger and disappointment- drinking for the first time and ended up watching a street performer around his age.

Enamored by their beauty he used his charm to whoo them. Losing his virginity that night under the stars.

It had been magical for him, And he walked away from it all with a smile on his face and crushing on the dancer who had been with him.

Has a infinity for performers now, If a dancer catches his gaze he will he head over heels and will follow his youthful heart.

Mihawk

With a Member of the Marines

Young, Dumb and filled with sperm. Mihawk had lost his virginity in his mid/late teens to a cadet in the Marines. The two of them the same age, trying to act like adults and decided to do the deed together.

Innocent and awkward- However Mihawk walked away proud from him. If not flustered and embarrassed from it all.

Developed a liking of sleeping with the 'enemy' it is a thrill for him and especially if he can do a sneaky link say besides a bar he will.

Will still sometimes drop by and sleep with that furst Marine member if they are still around. Finds it is nostalgic-

Buggy

With a Sex Worker

This man has such Bad/Negative Rizz he had a hard time in his youth pulling a partner. Maybe it was his loud mouth, rude tendencies or awkward graces that made it hard for him- However he got tired of lying about his 'sexual escapades' and instead decided to just get to the real thing at the age of 20.

He ended up going to a well established brothel. Buggy paid a unholy amount of money for one of the best in the brothel- tried to mouth off at first but after some firm words from the worker piped down and followed their lead.

Learned quickly to respect sex workers and also learned a few new things about himself as well. 😳

Has great respect for the industry and visits them often since he likes them.

[urlovebot]

Hiiii. I love your works so so much!!

could you possibly do something for bada x idol reader who’s like- the totally opposite of her? Like super feminine and kind of short, very dramatic and expressive (aka has no chill lol)

Maybe how each of them handle jealousy differently- where reader gets all clingy and pouty and would straight up barge in and wrap her arms around bada from behind or sit on Bada’s lap. And everyone that sees is like “aw they’re such good friends” “industry besties” but they’re literally girlfriends lol

bada x idol reader with no chill 😭😭

bada choreographs for you alot as a solo artist

and you guys get along really well

... and she accompanies you to your events

she'll be in the dressing room watching you perform on music shows

shes behind the cameras when you're invited to variety shows

she shows up to red carpets with you, always making sure to match with you

her hand sits on your lower back as she guides you through the carpet

and when its time for you guys to walk down the steps, she walks first and holds her hand out at the bottom for you to grab for support

she accompanies you to your flights abroad

there are pictures on dispatch of you two linking pinkies that everyone thinks is so cute bc they just think

"i want a friendship like theirs 😭😭"

LIKE GIRL

anyway

you're referred to as the black cat and golden retriever friends

you're alot shorter than bada (which isn't hard given the fact she's nearly 5'10)

you're very feminine presenting

and very... very energetic

which tires bada out

but she loves you for that

your company lets you interact freely with other idols/celebrities so fans and media have gotten used to you being spotted with alot of different people so

naturally catching bada lee following you everywhere was the norm for them

theres a video of bada dancing to takeout (im gonna reference this fucking video every chance i get)

and when she gets down to the floor you jump in front of the camera shielding the viewers from her 😭😭

your arms are spread out and you're literally going

"DONT LOOK- DONT LOOK AT HER PLEASE-"

theres panic on your face

and everyone is just laughing but you're being so fr 😭😭😭😭😭

once bada is done she gets up and kisses you on the cheek which everyone excuses for the reasoning of friendship!

when bada was invited to compete on swf 2 you were really excited for her!!!!

and then she decided to grind in front of other women which made you... less excited!!!

you're always on set with them and when the behind the scenes clips start rolling out

after the battle with redy where bada just towers over her...the cameras cut and immediately you're storming up to her

and everyone just thinks its so cute like you're looking up and complaining to her and she's looking down at you, not giving a fuck about what you're saying... she's just glad to be there 😭

you're pouting afterwards so bada just grabs your hand and leads you to where her team is, sits down, and pulls you on top of her.

and then all is well with the world!

one time she taught a class with j.rick

and it required them to simply make eye contact

girl you would've thought the world was ending

bada finishes her dance with j.rick and you're just in the corner sulking

YOU JUST LOOK SO SAD

and people are starting to notice and the last thing bada needs is for your idol image to be ruined

so she just goes to the corner and stands directly in front of you, shielding you from the others

so your arms wrap around her and you lean your head on her back

and then her hands grip yours and she sways side to side

so cute

omg and she does the thing where her thumb caresses your hand

got lost in the sauce there for a second my bad

but when bada gets jealous uh its like alot less cute

more hot 😍

you're an mc for an end of year awards show and you have a duet stage for your partner

bada choreographs it for you

but its kind of sensual and it requires your partner to have their hands on you alot

(think the first half of this)

and bada kicks herself for being too good at this damn job

but she's so harsh on your partner 😭

she's monitoring you both in the mirror

"turn your foot more there."

"you're stiff during this part."

"people praise your dance skills but you're making me second guess their judgement."

LIKE DAMN

and when you get a break you pull bada off to the side

"???"

she doesnt even look at you

"what."

"you are harrassing that man. leave him alone."

she turns to you and bends down to reach your height

her eyes narrow

"why are you defending him"

"🤨 girl what"

"he can't do a simple step sequence. he shouldn't even be up there with you. and he's scared to grab you which is unprofessional."

you scoff,

"maybe he's scared to grab me because everytime he does, you clench your fist 😭😭"

and bada pulls away embarrassed

"oh."

she ponders for a moment

"yeah i guess that could be it."

anyway some extras

she buys you matching couple jewelry

she dresses you in her clothes when you go to the airport

she offers you her jacket when you sit in a dress/skirt

dispatch tried to expose you two once because bada was dropping you off at your company and kissed your cheeks and forehead before you left

like the headline was literally "solo artist y/n and her choreographer spotted kissing?"

and the description reads,

"bada lee drops y/n off at her company and is seen kissing y/n multiple times. an anonymous source claims theyve been dating for over a year, just months after y/n debuted [insert photos]

and all the comments on the article are like

"omg yall are always trying to stir the pot. THEYRE FRIENDS!"

"dispatch is always at the crime scene. mind your business!!!"

"they've literally been this close since before she debuted, its not that serious."

BUT THEN ON TWT PEOPLE ARE LIKE

"y/n and bada confirmed everyone cheer!!"

meanwhile you and bada are cuddled up in bed, giggling at your companys response of

"our artists private life is not the concern of the company."

long live idol reader + bada lee

[rhenuvee]

Table for Two [Alhaitham x reader]

Summary: Alhaitham receives a love letter from you, and after reading your words he tries to find you, except you seem a little shy to come face to face with him...

Warnings, A/N: reader is gn and portrayed as shy/anxious, this was written on a whim because I literally had a dream about this... ANYWAY-

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

"Hi, um- excuse me... Alhaitham?"

You have just entered the cafe where he would be relaxing while drinking his coffee. Alhaitham feels a light tap on his shoulder, and he looks up from his book. He sees you; a familiar Akademiya student by your attire, and nervous from the way you're avoiding eye contact (but still trying to maintain it) and the slight quiver of your lips.

Oh how you wish you could just disintegrate right here and now. You've been harboring a bit of a crush on the Scribe, or Acting Grand Sage now. It's a bit silly when you think of it, though... because you most definitely are catching feelings over miniscule things that Alhaitham probably doesn't bat an eye to.

The word "crush - romantically " doesn't exactly exist in an Akademiya student's vocabulary. If anything, that word would be used to describe what they wish a giant boulder would do to them before an exam.

You were working with other Ksharewar students on a project, when the renowned architect Kaveh came by to give suggestions. A while later, Alhaitham came by and it didn't take long for them to start bickering. Nonetheless, you and the other students continued to work on your parts. It wasn't until a shadow was looming over you, and by the shape of the cape you started sweating, already knowing who it was.

"Did you make this?" Alhaitham says while crouching down to your level to meet your gaze. Your eyes widened, being so close to the Scribe (who not to mention, is quite good looking as well).

"Yes... right now we're testing different methods of insulation since the location in Sumeru is closer to Fontaine, so the air is more moist..." You try to give a confident answer, while Alhaitham has a thinking face.

"Hmm, I'll admit this is impressive." The Scribe says quietly. Your heart fluttered at the compliment, even if it was directed to the whole group, but it made you glad that Alhaitham is not as stoic as he is said to be. It wasn't long until a voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What was that Alhaitham? Speak up I couldn't hear you." Kaveh says with his arms crossed. It seems he secretly heard the comment Alhaitham said and wanted him to admit this project he was leading was good. Alhaitham stands up and leaves to bicker with Kaveh some more.

"The only reason you can't hear me is because of all that hammering you do every night."

"Why- you!"

And a few days after that, you leave the Akademiya to go to the nearest river to dunk one of your industrial projects to cool it down. Suddenly you take notice of a figure sitting nearby, which turns out to be Alhaitham when you give him a second glance. To your surprise, he looks up from his book and gives you a small wave. The Scribe? Waving? At you? Clearly Teyvat is an upside-down world. You ended up awkardly waving back, then realizing how embarrassing it was wearing all your safety gear from before and being covered in dirt.

He looks at you and points at his forehead. Forehead? What? You look at him confusedly until he beckons you to come over and you do. He stands up, leaving his book opened on the ground. Then he reaches his hand towards your forehead and brushes some scraps that have been dusted onto your hair.

“You’ve got wood dust on your hair. You must have been working hard.” he says casually. You are taken aback again as he says something you never thought he would, and you manage to utter out an “I guess so” and “thank you” before he has a small conversation with you, then both of you going back to what you were doing.

Point is, there have been interactions with him like these in the past few weeks have been making you all lovey dovey. You’re hoping that Alhaitham will at least be willing to go somewhere with you even if he doesn’t return your feelings.

"Thank you, I'll... take a look at it." Alhaitham says with a slight suspicion in his voice. You nod and quickly run to exit the cafe. Oh god oh god oh god… you may just have to pay a visit to the statue of the seven to pray to Lesser Lord Kusanali to summon something to eat you alive. Oh but as if that would help you. Even in the afterlife it would come haunting. What were you thinking?

“Wait.” Alhaitham calls out and you stop in your tracks and look back. “You’re (y/n), right?” You nod slowly, then he nods signalling he’s got your confirmation and you scurry out the cafe and quickly to your next class.

To be honest, Alhaitham was confused when he saw you approach him and give him a letter, sealed and signed and everything… a bit fancy for an essay isn’t it? He finishes his coffee quickly, pays his bill and goes on a walk around Sumeru to read it.

Dear Alhaitham…? Soon enough, he realizes it’s not an essay you wanted him to review. He reads through your words and can sense how you were probably nervous to write your feelings out.

Suddenly he sees Kaveh approaching him who has an insult ready to hurl at him. After reading the letter, he makes a note to quickly find you to respond. But first, he had to get away from his roommate.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

More than half the day has gone by and you’ve been on edge the whole time. You were shuffling so fast between classes, it probably looked idiotic from other people’s point of view.

“Hey are you okay?” Your friend whispers who is sitting beside you. You clear your throat before answering.

“Yeah… why?”

“You seem tense… but I think I know why.” Oh no, has your friend found out about your love letter to Alhaitham?! “It’s because the Scribe has been looking for you.” What?

“The- looking for me?” You say in shock.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him going around and asking students if they’ve seen you.” This sends you into a panic as it gets you thinking about the possibilities. He is probably going to reject you right? And with his piercing glare and cold tone. The thought of this makes you zoom out of your last class once it was dismissed, knowing the Scribe was looking for you.

“(Y/n).” You stop like a deer in headlights, and see Alhaitham standing outside near the one of the Akademiya walls, with your letter opened in hand.

“Al-Alhaitham!” You blurted out.

“I read your letter.” He says flatly, and it sucks because you wish you could tell how he’s feeling by his tone. “And I'm flattered. I appreciate your courage for telling me this. If I’m being honest, I enjoy your company as well. You are one of the few people who is able to talk to me normally.”

What does this mean? Is he friend-zoning you? Did he not understand your message?

“If you’re free now, we can go to Puspa Cafe, my treat.” At first your mouth falls at an O-shape, shocked that he's inviting you for a meal. (You wrote the letter expecting good things, smart one!) His offer still makes you unsure whether he meant this as a platonic thing, but nonetheless you smile and nod your head eagerly. Your assignments and projects can wait.

“Hold on…” Alhaitham says before you both set off to eat together. He bends down to your height and his right hand brushes the side of your face- a familiar feeling like that one time. But it’s different this time, because he leans closer and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek. You blush and he pulls away a little, enough for him to get a full glimpse of your face and look in your eyes. You don't think friends do this.

“I understand I’m still a little intimidating to you, so that’ll have to do for now.” He says quietly. With the warmth, still in your skin, you nod shyly and Alhaitham gives what you think is the slightest smile, pats your cheek and pulls away completely. He offers his hand out, and you put your hand in his. Then he closes it, his large hand engulfing yours, and leads you to Puspa Cafe.

“Ah Acting Grand Sage, come for your usual coffee?” The manager of the cafe calls out to him as you both enter.

“Thank you, but not this time.” There’s a pause, in which he takes to look at you while he says this. “Table for two please.”

And oh, how that makes your heart flutter even if it was a small thing. You could only wonder what would happen after the “for now” Alhaitham said.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Bonus:

“Well how was it, did you give them that winning smile I told you to give?” Kaveh asks while lounging on one of the seats as his roommate comes through the door, letter still in hand.

“No.”

“…you- do you even like this person?! This student has either got to be the most boring or the most charitable and tolerant to like you.” Kaveh is having a crisis over Alhaitham’s lack of romantic behaviour, especially now when it’s necessary.

When the architect ran into the Scribe earlier today, he got excited and thought he’d be nice and help him respond to this admirer. However to Alhaitham, Kaveh’s instructions probably sounded more like blabber, because he couldn’t bother to listen to him.

"Did you at least say something romantic? Oh- Archons, Alhaitham. You really know how to woo someone don't you?" Kaveh says sarcastically to express his disappointment. “Can you at least tell me their name? Or what they look like? Because I want to find them and tell them how stupid you looked pacing around the Akademiya today asking students if they’ve seen them.” Kaveh snickers to himself.

"Even if you did approach them, I doubt they'd respond to a weirdo like you. They're too smart for that."

"You're one to talk!"

However, Kaveh stops shooting the many quips he has prepared for Alhaitham being dense once he catches the slight pink dusting his roommate’s cheeks before entering his study. He'll most likely find out himself sooner or later.

Plus, he can’t deny he loves a good romance, even if one of the characters is his hopeless, stubborn, and aloof roommate.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Part 2??? Update: Part 2 here!!!

Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this, and follow me if you'd like to see more of my works!

[gatorbites-imagines]

the request for hobie and the icp spiderman reader has intrigued me and I would like to see hobie x male reader who isnt a spiderman but a civillian, hes the lead guitarist for a metal band and hobie shows up to the venue for the readers concert as theres a gun threat or something along those lines (if thats ok ofc )

Hobie Brown x lead guitarist male reader

Headcanons

I think im experiencing writers block again.

You two most likely met at one of your concerts, or one of Hobies’ for that matter. Maybe it was an event where multiple bands would play.

You would both be amazed by the others playing, and before either of you knew what was happening, you two could be found flirting in the corner of the room. Everyone else faded into the background as you two got to know each other.

Time would pass, you two would text as you shared numbers that night, you two would go to each other’s concerts, all the shebang. Sadly Hobie had to slow down on his own music as all the spiderman things started going down, but that doesn’t stop him from coming to see you.

He can always be found in the crowd somewhere, easily spotted thanks to his height and his hair. Seeing him there always makes you feel better, and you tell him he’s gotta be your lucky token, as you’re playing always sounds better when he’s present.

It would be no secret that you two were dating, as it becomes a common sight to see you jump off the stage after concerts, maybe even throwing yourself as Hobie so he has to catch you. It becomes part of the experience for the people going after a while.

Your band probably isn’t that big, maybe more of a local famous band, but that’s exactly what Hobie loves anyways. He doesn’t approve of the larger music industry and how it relies on nepotism and money.

A gun threat could happen for many reasons, maybe they don’t like the music or your bands message, maybe they don’t like that the lead guitarist is so openly gay, maybe they just did it because it was somewhere with a lot of people.

Because the world you guys live in, you all get down when the person with the gun appears, waving their weapon around and threatening the people around them.

Of course, you have to play hero, so when they are threatening to shoot someone, you jump off the stage to get their attention. Right as the gun turns towards you and they are about to pull the trigger, Spiderman shows up and takes care of the perp.

If hes being extra rough with the perp, no one will notice. Its of course because Hobie was terrified you would get hurt, especially if he knows about canon events at this point, and has seen how the lovers of spiderpeople always end up hurt or dead.

He can’t go scoop you up as spiderman, so he quickly wraps up what he needs to do and comes back as himself, making it seem like he was there the whole time. Your band would be fuzzing over you, whilst also calling you cool for stepping in like that, when Hobie comes running.

Your bandmates only laugh as Hobie picks you up, checks you all over, and kisses you, telling you to never do something so stupid again.

After that Hobie would be on edge for a while, tense and paying closer attention to you than normal. He would stick closer to you during concerts, always eyeing the people around and staying close to the stage so he could pull you to safety if needed.

Your bandmates and the locals would just accept it, seeing it as one of Hobies quirks, some would even find it romantic that he watches out for you so much after the threat. They just think hes a protective boyfriend, they have no idea your protective boyfriend is spiderman though.

If he has no choice but to patrol on nights you have concerts, he always sticks close by and swings past where the concert is happening, to see you, but also to keep an eye out for any danger. It becomes a joke that spiderman is a big fan of your band, which you find humorous since he is, everyone else just doesn’t know.

It would take a while for Hobie to calm down, though the caution is always there but it’s always been there, as it comes with being spiderman. Just expect to be kisses before every concert now except for after, just in case.

[sanshofox]

At this point I am really wondering how the entertainment industry, especially gaming industry, is going to uphold/maintain themselves.

One layoff after another. How are people from that industry supposed to find a new job there when layoffs are happening everywhere? Do studios really think there’s longevity when they aren’t even willing to hire newcomers/juniors so there‘s adequate supply in the work force? Because look at how it’s currently going: investors want more and more money, the workload increases, but people are getting fired, leaving a smaller team to do said work, even distributing them for 2 or 3 projects at the same time, only to crash in a burnout or in later years go into retirement. Then who’s left? AI? Are you kidding me? As if games aren’t becoming more and more repetitive anyway, because of some „safe recipe for good numbers“ strategy. Creativity and the people behind it are suffering.

It’s been almost 2 years since I saw a junior 3D character artist offer. Ever since then it’s been a desert. And it’s not looking all too bright in other departments either. It’s now even a thing in job descriptions where they want you to have „AI abilities“. So as a junior or regular they want you to feed their machine, so in a few years they can fire you. The audacity.

Another audacity are those layoffs just to rehire people for a smaller price (can’t tell me otherwise. For me this is a tactic to put pressure on the work force to say yes to less money otherwise they will stay jobless). People that made projects what they are today, who are seniors and leads for a reason, out of a job just like that. Make it make sense (it doesn’t).

Studios like ubisoft now openly saying that they want to focus on AI, like assets completely made by AI to „save time and money“ and expand AI onto more fields. Shame on them.

The way creative industries like gaming finance themselves is also their biggest poison. And I only see a solution in that by regulating investors demands and upper positions sheaningans. They can’t have „absolute power“ anymore. It’s destructive and greedy and not realistic. Games can not be linearly successful. For the game design „recipe“ to improve it needs iteration just like when you work in a project for example and work on a design that needs to be iterated until it‘s improved or solid even. We see time and time again that „business/numbers people“ and creatives do not go hand in hand. We see an extreme imbalance.

I would predict that with less creative new input and letting mainly AI do the work consumers will be less and less entertained because everything seems to be and look the same. It will stagnate. And then crumble. And the industry needs to start like it did before. And that’s what I guess for the big companies.

With the layoffs happening and not enough job offers in return I could see that big talents get together to build their own studios now and we may get an era of new successful and growing studios happening that may even replace the current triple A studios one day in the future. They may even change the financing game. We saw successful games happening through platforms like kickstarter more often. So it might lead back to a „power to the people“ thing. Having an idea for a project and seeing if enough people agree and invest to see it happening. There’s room for improvement in that system. That’s all what it leads back to; in the end the consumers need to be satisfied to make it a creative and monetary success. BG3 and larian studios was a good example for that. It’s what made coral island grow and grow too. So there‘s potential.

Feel free to comment your theories. I really would like to see what others think about the current state of gaming studios and how it will or could develop.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 17

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: *Gives you a box of virtual tissues.* Just in case. 😘

Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: Macho angst ahead, hurt/comfort, major, major fluff…

Part 17: More Than Words Can Say

Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the largest private hospitals in the city. 

Fortunately, it was also the closest to Vought Tower, or what once had been the focal point of the superhero industry. It had been reduced to mere rubble and whatever dilapidated parts still stood. 

All the news outlets were covering the tower’s collapse, and speculating on what could’ve created the blast that made the entire city tremble—not unlike last year’s incident, when Soldier Boy killed the most powerful supe in the world.

In the hospital, M.M. walked through the Emergency Department until he found Yvette and her son, Devon. They sat beside each other on a single cot, now joined by Yvette’s husband Chris while she signed her discharge papers. She’d gotten off with a minor concussion and a bandage over her temple. 

“Just checking in on you guys,” M.M. said. Yvette smiled, but she asked about you. 

“She’s in surgery,” he told her. 

Yvette nodded, though tears welled up in her eyes. Chris rubbed her back and held his son’s shoulder. 

“Please call me with any news on her,” Yvette asked. 

“You got it,” M.M. said.

“And please,” she said, holding her son. “Thank Soldier Boy for us.”

M.M. paused at that. 

Seeing the family was well in hand, he returned to the trauma wing. There in the waiting room sat the whole team, minus Butcher, who’d been admitted to the hospital as well after the ED doctors didn’t like what they’d found on his lab reports. (But M.M. would look into that later. Hughie was with him now anyway.)

That left Frenchie, Kimiko, and Annie to wait for any news on you. Even Grace had arrived an hour ago. 

But M.M.’s attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway. 

Soldier Boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The collar of his supe suit was undone to give his neck and chest some breathing room. He’d removed his gloves, and an empty gallon jug of water lied at his feet. 

He was covered in a fine layer of soot and grime, though he’d since washed his hands and face to the best of his ability. He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales. 

Grace had run a quick background check on both, and as M.M. had learned, they were ex-Marines Soldier Boy had picked up in Colombia, while he was busy infiltrating a drug cartel.   

Fucking figures, M.M. thought, shaking his head as he watched the man. Grace stood and joined him.

“He’s not just gonna fuck off back to South America,” he told her. “You realize that right?”

She considered that with a tilt of her head. “Let’s just see what happens here.”

As if right on cue, your surgeon made his way down the hall and over to the waiting group. Ben pushed off the wall and went to meet him, as did Grace, Annie, and M.M. 

Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze.  

The doctor was a graying man in his fifties. He seemed to internally brace himself before he spoke, glancing at Ben first before the others. 

“We’ve repaired the damaged muscle around her right leg. The femur is broken. We also addressed the wound near her shoulder,” he said. “However, the rebar did nick her heart. She’ll need additional surgery to repair it.”

Ben sensed a but coming. He crossed his arms. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

The doctor gave a nod and a short sigh. 

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he explained. “We’ve given her a transfusion, of course, but she’s in a delicate state right now.”

“So why’re you wasting time? Do your fucking job,” Ben snapped. Grace shot him a glance, but addressed the doctor herself.

“What are her odds, doctor?” she asked. Ben eyed her with a glare. She ignored him for the time being. 

“She needs this now. But, there is a chance she won’t make it out of surgery at this stage,” the surgeon replied. “The OR will be available in thirty minutes…so this would be the time to be with her, just in case she’s unable to get through this.”

“Excuse me?” Ben said. 

His tone was dark and deep with grit, and the doctor stepped back. No one dared attempt to hold Ben back, but Grace quickly thanked the doctor and urged him to move forward with prepping you for surgery. 

Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown. 

Annie turned to Ben with a measure of sympathy, hidden underneath her irritation at his attitude and her worry for you. You were still her friend, and she felt guilty for how cold she’d been treating you lately. And she could see, at the very least, that this man cared about you. 

“Look, can you just calm down a bit? We’re all here hoping she pulls through,” Annie said. 

M.M. stood behind her, silent, supportive. But Ben just ignored her, and everyone else for that matter. 

He stalked down the hallway. And when he turned a corner, out of eyeshot, he growled and punched a hole deep into the closest wall.

Hughie perked up when Butcher finally started to rouse in his hospital bed. They had him on a hefty dose of morphine. 

He blinked his weary eyes, his head rolling over on the pillow. His lips quirked when he noticed Hughie, who was glaring at him. 

“Watching me sleep now?” Butcher remarked. “Pretty fuckin’ creepy, Hugh.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Hughie said. 

That was something Butcher couldn’t refute. He nodded. “I see they told you.”

“When were you gonna say something?” Hughie said. “When you fucking dropped dead?”

“Probably not even then,” Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger man’s face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed. 

“Ain’t nothing any of us can do about it.”

“Fucking cancer?” Hughie said incredulously. “You could’ve gotten treatment.”

“Would’ve bought me a few more months, maybe,” Butcher admitted. That fell between them for a moment with stony silence. 

“It’s all right,” he added. “I’ve had my fucking time. Got to see the life drain from that golden cunt’s eyes…got to let my girl rest easy.”

Hughie didn’t buy that. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to. His eyes burned, both with emotion and determination. He stood from his seat and set out to find Grace. If there was anything that could help Butcher, she would know. 

While the others went down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, Frank sat in the waiting room with Loco beside him and Dr. Baker’s briefcase on his lap.

He was sorting through its contents while Loco sat with crossed arms and slumping shoulders. He looked over at Frank’s stoic profile with a frown.

He was older, but not by much. They’d gone through one fresh hell after another together, and somehow, Frank always managed to pull their asses out of the wringer. It seemed Frank was trying to do the same for their boss. 

It was funny, actually. Soldier Boy wasn’t their first contractor. You were their first kidnapping though. Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but they’d agreed to do a job. Guarding you became part of that job. 

And yet, you had somehow reminded both Frank and Loco that they used to be respectable members of society. They used to have families, friends. They had once been soldiers. Good men. Maybe that was why they’d grown fond of you over the past few months. 

And Frank…well, Loco knew the man had his reasons for wanting to be done with this work. Loco couldn’t blame him; he was feeling tired himself. 

“Found anything good?” Loco asked in Spanish. Frank’s dark brows had drawn together in new interest.

“More than good,” he said. He looked up, but didn’t find Soldier Boy in the waiting room. “Where the hell did he go?”

Loco pointed to the reception desk. “Try asking someone.”

With a sharp sigh, Frank gave Loco the briefcase. “Guard that with your fucking life. Don’t let anyone from the CIA take it from you.”

Loco gave him a look of offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.” 

Rolling his eyes, Frank got up and went over to the reception desk. 

“Excuse me,” he said. There seemed to be no one at the reception desk. Granted, it was late at night, and they technically weren’t supposed to be there. Grace Mallory had worked out an agreement with the hospital to allow them all to stay overnight. 

He didn’t have to wait too long though, as an on-duty nurse came over with a clipboard in hand. Her red hair caught his eye, along with her pretty smile. 

“Hi there. Can I help you?” she asked. 

Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes. 

“Did you happen to see which way Soldier Boy went?” he asked.

She gave him a wan smile and pointed down the hall, to the left. “That ‘a way. Think he had an argument with the wall over there.”

Frank followed her gaze and caught sight of the hole in the wall. He frowned. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. 

The nurse gave him a sideways look. “No worries, hun. It’s not your fisticuff outline in the wall, now is it?”

Once again, Frank didn’t know quite what to say to her slightly teasing smile. But he returned it, more reserved, but genuine. 

“Thank you,” he said, with a nod. Then he remembered then what he needed to do. 

And he took off brusquely down the hall. 

It took him a few minutes to pull his head together, but Ben eventually worked up his nerve to go and see you. 

You were still drugged out asleep, of course. He stood outside the large window of your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. He wouldn’t go in though. Part of him refused to believe it had gotten to this. 

And the reality, that this was his fault. He’d caused the blast that destroyed the tower. His fault he hadn’t gotten to you sooner.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you’d told him once. 

You were right then, and it still held up now. 

So, no…he wouldn’t go in there, into your room. The truth was, he couldn’t. 

But Ben’s awareness prickled before he noticed, Frank had joined him. Ben tolerated it. While he wanted to be alone, maybe part of him (one he wouldn’t acknowledge) craved some kind of company. 

“You’ll get paid, don’t you fucking worry,” he said dryly. 

“That’s not the only reason I’m here,” Frank said. 

It felt like a confession. Ben didn’t reply though; he was focused on your pale face, covered by the breathing mask. Shallow puffs of air fogged the inside of it while your heart monitor clipped on.

“There’s another solution here,” Frank said. 

Ben gave him a cursory side glance. “She wouldn’t take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” Frank mentioned. 

Ben didn’t answer, but he’d been internally debating it ever since he’d spoken with the surgeon. 

“All right, get it over here,” he said. “The temporary stuff.” 

Frank rose a brow. He’d been curious enough to try testing the man. But now, he frowned.

“She won’t forgive you,” he pointed out. 

“What’re you, devil’s fucking advocate? She’ll get the fuck over it,” Ben snapped. 

But after his initial anger subsided…he knew his subordinate was right. 

“She’ll be alive to hate me,” he said, more honestly.  

Frank inclined his head. “There could be another way.” 

Ben glanced over at him. 

“She lost a lot of blood,” Frank said. Ben frowned.  

“They’ve given her fucking blood transfusions—” 

“Yeah, normal blood. A supe’s blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,” Frank said. “But, the only one who can break your skin is you.”

Ben eyed him in suspicion. “Who told you that?” 

“Read it somewhere,” Frank said evasively. 

Ben huffed in response, but as that realization truly sunk into his mind, his lips pressed together in new determination. He left Frank to start a brusque pace down the hall. 

He ignored the red-headed nurse calling at him at the reception desk when he shoved through a locked security door, into the OR unit. He searched until he found your surgeon and pulled him from the sink he was washing his hands in.

The man gasped with fright, though he tried to hide it looking up at Ben. “What the hell’re you doing?”

“I’m making a donation,” said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. “You better hurry the fuck up, because I’m about to open a vein.”

It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the “treatment” was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.

Ben nodded at the news. He didn’t respond, and just started walking down the hall. Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity. 

“Where are you going?” Annie asked. She was exhausted; all of them were. 

The supe ignored her though. M.M. shared a look with her before he decided to follow the man. 

Meanwhile, Ben once again stopped in the middle of the hallway when he was out of view. He took in a slow, steadying breath of relief, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Congratulations. After today, you’re gonna get your statue put back up,” M.M. said.

Ben turned around to stare back at the man, schooling his face into a stoic frown. 

“Yvette and her son are going to be fine, by the way,” M.M. added, as he crossed his arms.

Ben paused slightly at that, filing that information away with secret satisfaction. 

To M.M., he merely raised a brow. “You got something to say, or are you going to keep wasting my fucking time?”  

“You think saving one black kid makes you a hero?” M.M. asked, point blank. “Taking down Vought. Saving her. What does that all mean to you?”

Ben frowned in irritation. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Just answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckin’ life,” M.M. said. “Do you really think you’re a hero?”

Silence fell between them. 

Ben didn’t know what it was about this guy. Maybe it was his persistence, or the fact that he’d pulled you out of the rubble and got you to a hospital in time to save your life. 

But Ben actually considered the question.

Killing Stan Edgar and Black Noir. Saving you. He’d done it all for selfish reasons. The kid…that was something else. His face stuck in Ben’s mind, how he’d trusted the superhero, like dumb kids were supposed to do.

But in that moment, carrying the tower on his back and knowing he was the only barrier between a mountain of hot rubble and this one kid…Ben hadn’t wanted to fail. 

And still. You are the reason I needed saving…

It wasn’t really saving the fucking day if he started it, was it?

Ben’s lips turned on a humorless smile. Still, he had saved the kid. And his mom. And you. For now, that was enough.

“Looks like I am,” said Ben.

But he met M.M.’s stare, briefly allowing him to glimpse beyond a wall of arrogance and pride.

And Ben walked away. M.M. watched him go in silent contemplation.

Grace intercepted Ben before he could visit you in the ICU. 

Christ. What the fuck now? he thought sourly. 

She gestured for a word, and with an annoyed look, he followed her down the hall.

“I’ll get to the point,” she said. “Butcher is sharing a floor with your girlfriend, down in Oncology.”

Ben raised a brow. That prick had cancer? Par for the fucking course, if he said so himself. 

“So?” he remarked. 

Grace sighed. She’d expected that reaction. “They’ve given him weeks, but the way he’s been pushing himself, more likely it’s days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effects…if you were to make another blood donation, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

So now his blood was some fucking wonder drug? Hell no, Ben thought. 

“You’re asking me to save the guy who’s double-crossed me, tried to hunt me down, tried to end me?” he said, with a dark, incredulous chuckle. “You can fuck right off, sweetheart.”

She grated at the sweetheart remark, but Grace leveled him with steely blue eyes.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be on ice right now,” she pointed out. 

Ben’s lips pursed. He’d really like to snap this bitch’s fucking neck on principle…but then he thought about it. He could work this into his favor. 

“You know what. I’m having a good day, so maybe I’m feeling fucking generous,” he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. “But I think it’s time we renegotiated our contract. Don’t you?”

Grace stared up at him, and she inhaled a deep breath. 

“Fine.”

You slowly woke up in a hospital room, in a paper gown with an IV drip and a heart monitor. Which made sense, as the events of yesterday came back to you in a rush. 

But beyond feeling relieved to be alive, you also felt extremely well-rested. You didn’t feel like a building fell on you. 

What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me? You tried to read your chart on the wall, but you didn’t see any pain medication on there. 

Annie popped into your private recovery room. Her face brightened when she saw that you were awake. 

“Hey, hun! How do you feel?” she asked, lowering into a chair at your bedside. You wouldn’t know that this chair had been occupied by various members of the team over the past few hours, including M.M., Frenchie, Frank, and even Grace. 

“Great, actually,” you replied. But now you frowned. “I shouldn’t feel great.”

You remembered nearly being crushed under a pile of rubble. You remembered falling on a piece of rebar, and unable to move your crushed leg. You remembered the worry in Ben’s eyes… 

And panic stung at yours.

“Did they give me Compound V?” your voice shook when you asked. Annie calmed you down with a shake of her head and a reassuring hand on your arm. 

The door to your room opened once again. Ben’s frame filled up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat. He was still in his supe suit, and with his hands resting on his belt, he strutted inside the room. 

M.M., Frenchie, Frank, Loco, and Kimiko came in behind him and at least looked showered. Ben looked like he hadn’t even done that much, nor slept all night.

“It wasn’t the V,” he said at last. “Just a little blood donation. Seemed to work like a charm.”

His resulting grin had a bit of charm in it as well. Your head tilted in confusion.

"Whose blood?" you asked.

"Mine," he said. His expression faded, slightly more serious.

You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his blood…instead of Compound V.

While you tried to wrap your mind around the gravity of that, you reached for the pitcher of water on the rolling tray beside you. You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldn’t spill all over you.

Ben raised a brow. 

The room fell silent as all eyes stared at you. When the water finished pouring out onto the floor, you gently set it back down on the tray. 

“Seems you got some of his strength in the deal,” Annie remarked. 

“Great, there’s two of them,” Hughie quipped with a grin. 

“Well, that’s probably just temporary,” M.M. sighed. “Hopefully.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and it brought a slight grin to Ben’s lips. 

After a bit of well wishing, everyone cleared out of your room to let you rest up…except for Ben, Frank, and Loco. 

“What are you guys going to do now?” you asked of the latter two. Loco cracked his knuckles. 

“Got another job lined up in private security,” he revealed. “I’ve lost the taste for drug running. Nearly lost a damn toe on the last one.”

You laughed. “Well, thanks for doing one more job here.”

“Anything for el Capitán,” Loco said, giving Ben a respectful nod. “He pays exceedingly well.”

You raised a brow at Ben, who shrugged with a cocky grin. Smiling, you turned to Frank, who was sitting in the chair beside your bed. 

“And you?” you asked. Frank gave you a rare smile. 

“Going home,” he said. “To my daughter.”

Your eyes began to sting, but you tried to blink away the beginnings of tears. You nodded and squeezed his arm. 

“Give her a big hug for me. And thank you again…for everything,” you said, even though you realized that thanking your former guard keep was strange. Still, there had been no part of your kidnapping that was normal in the least. 

Frank hesitated, but he covered your hand with his. 

Though he caught the way Ben’s face tightened, and Frank let go of you. He stood with Loco, giving you and Ben a final nod. Then the two men left your room and disappeared down the hall.

Part of you felt melancholy, like chapters of your life were closing. But you also felt like new ones were waiting in the wings.

Your gaze turned to Ben, who stood near your bed.

He was looking over your chart to see if the doctors needed anything else before you were discharged. But your soft voice called to him, earning his attention. You beckoned him closer.

He went over and sat down on the edge of your bed, laying a hand on your thigh. You reached out for his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Ben scoffed, though a hint of humor glinted in his eyes. “For what? Saving your reckless ass for the millionth time?”

“For saving Yvette and her son,” you replied with a smile. “And yeah, all that other stuff.” 

Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm. 

“Really. Thank you…” 

Tears welled up in your eyes again. You still couldn’t fucking believe he opened up one of his own veins and gave you his blood. He gave a public hospital his blood in order to save you. 

He could’ve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didn’t just save you. He’d respected your wishes. 

What you wanted to say next got stuck in your throat.

Ben had something hiding behind his eyes, like he was reluctant to show you his real emotions. But when he focused on your face, his hand tightened on yours. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak. He only let go of your hand to brush a falling tear from your cheek. His lips twitched at a smile.

“Come on now, baby doll. You’re tougher than that.”

You choked on a laugh as more of your tears slipped down your warming cheeks. “Nope. I’m actually not.”

“Hmm. Could’ve fooled me,” Ben said. You matched his grin with a beaming smile of your own.  

Slowly, you pushed yourself up and took his dirty face in your hands. You guided him down to you, and you pressed your lips to his. 

He allowed it with his usual demanding, fervent kiss. But then it slowed. He held your wrist to keep your hand in place on his cheek, and his thumb drew bath and forth over your skin. 

You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to say…but maybe right now, it was too much. 

You met him with another tearful kiss.

Before you were officially discharged from the hospital, you had one more visitor. 

Grace was once again there to debrief you. This time though, Ben sat at your side on the bed, a silent statue who regarded the woman coolly. He seemed to be tolerating her presence with more ease than usual, and you wondered why.

“You’re going on medical leave,” she informed you. “For three months, and then a psychiatrist will need to clear you for duty.”

Part of you wanted to argue, considering you were completely healed of your injuries. But you knew you needed a break from the S.A.—from all of this. 

“Your mother and sister will be brought out of witness protection soon, after we determine that the threat is sufficiently neutralized,” she said. “You can return home today as well.”

You could finally go back to your apartment…though the thought didn’t call to you as much as it should have. You glanced over at Ben.

“Is this the part where you try to ship him back to Colombia?” you asked. 

“That was the agreement,” Grace said wryly. You frowned, trying to blink away the tears forming once again in your eyes.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you also didn’t want to give up your life here. You didn’t want to leave the S.A., or your family, or your friends. Ben put you out of your misery, however.

“We renegotiated,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Grace explained, “In exchange for his assistance in another case, he can stay in the U.S. on a trial basis. As long as he agrees to live within the law.”

You didn’t entirely trust Grace. Ben would be watched at every moment. That was a given, but considering he still didn’t have full control over his nuclear power, you were surprised Grace would allow him free roam within U.S. borders. 

“And, provided, he agrees to a relocation. Preferably not in a densely populated area,” Grace added.

There it is, you frowned. You shared a look with him, and you could see he wasn’t entirely on board with this. You had no doubt he’d agreed to her demands by lying through his teeth. 

You turned back to Grace.

“What if he becomes a contractor for Supe Affairs,” you proposed. “There may be some fallout after Vought’s collapse, and more of their records to go through. Other labs to clear out. Ben would be a lot of help, if he’s willing.”

You glanced at Ben again. He met your eyes, then Grace’s, and he nodded marginally. He was getting bored of the heat in South America anyway. 

Grace heaved a sigh. Ben’s lips formed a smirk. 

“Oh, relax. I just ended Vought. You’d be an idiot not to cash in on that PR,” he pointed out. 

“Need I remind you that you caused the tower’s collapse?” Grace said tersely. “And you did not end Vought. There will be repercussions to this, believe me.”

Ben’s face tightened, but you grasped his hand. 

“But he fulfilled the mission,” you said. “He took out Black Noir…and Stan Edgar in the process.”

“The idea was to arrest him, but I get your point,” Grace said. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she thought about your proposal.

Eventually, she spoke. “If you can play by our rules, then we’ll contract with you. But until you get that atomic bomb under control, you can’t remain the city. Upstate is the best I can do.”

Ben chafed at being told what he couldn’t do. What the fuck was he going to do in Upstate New York? Slowly rot to death in dusty-ass suburbia?

You shot him a knowing look, raising a brow. 

“It’s a fair offer, Ben,” you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.

Then he looked up at Grace. “Fine. But first, unfreeze my fucking bank accounts.”

Ben later led you out of the hospital. There was a car waiting outside, and he got in to drive, despite you offering. He must’ve been going on very little sleep, if any over the past two days. 

And of course, he’d refused to be seen at all medically, saying he was fine. You were still concerned about that destabilizing gun Black Noir had shot him with. 

“I’m fine,” Ben had claimed. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

You watched his profile for a moment, and a smile started to raise your lips…until you finally remembered something that felt like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“Um…” you said, earning Ben’s attention. You looked up at him. “My father’s dead…”

Good fucking riddance, was Ben’s initial reaction. Followed by a frown, as he now realized he would never get the pleasure of choking the shit out of Jon himself. 

Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that you’d been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frank’s pay). Had that asshole lived, Ben wouldn’t have put it past him to try and take you with him after escaping the building. The mere thought grated on him. 

“Black Noir killed him,” you said, heaving a shaky breath. 

That cut through Ben’s thoughts. He glanced over, watching you fight some conflicting emotions. 

“…Punched a hole straight through his chest,” you added.

Ben hummed in acknowledgement. You turned to him with a raised brow and glassy eyes. When he realized you were expecting a bit more from him, his lips pursed.

“Well, he got a quick death,” he said. “Better than he fucking deserved, far as I’m concerned.”

You sighed and leaned your head back on the head rest. Your eyes closed. 

“Goddamn it, Ben.”

Ben eyed you with a deepening frown. “What the fuck do you expect me to say?”

“How about some decency?” you asked, as a tear fell down your cheek. “He tried to apologize. But I wouldn’t let him.”

He paused at that. While he thought you were being unreasonable, it begrudgingly dawned on him what you wanted, and maybe, what you needed. He sighed through his nose. Even now, you were a handful.

Ben reached over, taking your hand from your lap. He pressed the back of it to his lips, earning your mild surprise.  

“That’s not your fault,” he said. And he briefly took his eyes off the road to look into yours. “None of it was. You understand me?”

Your face softened. Though you tried to blink away your tears, a few of them still fell. You wiped at them with your free hand, while the other squeezed around his fingers, resting against your thigh. Despite how you were fracturing inside, warmth still kept you afloat. 

So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.   

“We’ll have to go to the safe house to get our stuff,” you said eventually, with a small sniffle.

“No need,” Ben said. “That’s taken care of.”

That confused you. Was he taking you to your apartment then? 

But instead, he drove you out of the city, and an hour upstate into Scarsdale. You’d never been there, but you knew it by reputation—as one of the most affluent towns in the state.

You were even more confused when he drove down a street flanked by tall hedges within a private community. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of an immense white house, with a red brick roof, colonial architecture, a manicured lawn, complete with matching fountains lining the front door.

Ben parked the car and encouraged you to get out with him. You followed him up to the front porch, expecting an old billionaire to pop out of the tall bushes at any moment to chase you away. 

“What’re we doing here?” you asked. His hands fell to the belt of his supe suit as he surveyed the stood, the door, and the walls for anything amiss. 

“I’m looking into buying it,” he revealed, as if he’d just told you, It’s pretty fucking sunny today, huh? 

“Our stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,” he added.

Your eyes flew wide. “What? When did you have time to scope out houses?” 

You’d only been discharged about an hour after the conversation with Grace. 

“I had Frank look into some shit. He found this one,” Ben shrugged. “Could use some work, but not bad.”

Our stuff, you repeated in your mind. This house…was he trying to recreate what the two of you had in Medellin?

And more importantly, was this his way of asking you to move in with him? 

Well, there’s not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you. 

You brought Ben back down to Earth by grasping his hands, earning his attention from the old grout in the tile.

“Ben, this place is amazing,” you said. “But I don’t know if I’ll be comfortable living like this.”

He frowned down at you. “What the hell do you mean? You could have anything you want here. It’s safe. Got plenty of room—”

“A bit too much room,” you said, holding up your thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart. 

He looked adorably grumpy. You smiled and squeezed his hand. 

“Did you really feel cozy and at home in that mansion with fifty rooms and nobody in ‘em?” you asked.

He didn’t answer you, and he didn’t seem happy either. You didn’t want him to take this as a rejection. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you said, “then can we start a little smaller? Somewhere that feels like home to both of us?”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance. “You need to broaden your palate.”

You just managed to stop yourself from laughing.

“You haven’t had a normal home in a long time, Ben,” you replied. Maybe ever, you realized. “How about you trust me?” 

He gave you a dubious frown.

“What about this,” you tried. “Let’s pick it out together! If in a few months you still hate the new place, we’ll try it your way.” 

“You’re assuming we’re gonna make it that long.” Ben was starting to wonder if this was going to work after all. The two of you were from very different worlds. 

You offered a cheeky smile. “I’m optimistic.”

He huffed. “Sure.” 

You reached up on your toes, and gripped the front of his suit when you leaned up to kiss him. His hands rose naturally to hold you, resting on your jean-clad hips. He followed your languid kiss, his furrowed brows relaxing when you touched his cheek.

When you broke from his lips, his eyes opened to find yours. 

“I am, Ben,” you said more seriously. “I’m not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.” 

But then you hesitated. You lowered back down to your feet. 

“But if it’s not to you…if you’re just passing time with me, until you get bored,” you said, “tell me now. Please.” 

It was Ben’s turn to hesitate. It was the please that got to him, along with your downturned gaze. He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him. 

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

AN: *squeals* It's happening! We've really gotten here, folks. How'd you like how it all wrapped up with Grace, M.M., and even Butcher?

But we're not quite there with these two yet...

Next Time:

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months.

Keep reading: THE EPILOGUE

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[ventismacchiato]

42 behind the lens — curtain call !

epilogue

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

It’s at the times between recording scenes where you really get a glimpse at your lover.

His sweat stained hair and tear stained cheeks from a rather intense scene never get old. You were feeling rather fond as he made his way over to you, falling into your director’s chair and heaving a heavy breath. The only one other than you allowed to sit in it.

For a mere moment, you both simply look at each other. You guys were on break so a few conversation topics come to mind, it wasn’t often you guys got to speak as lovers rather than coworkers during work. And while they’re all things you’d like to talk to Scaramouche about, you realize you don’t need to force conversation with him.

There’s a hue of weariness that shows in Scara’s eyes, but you can tell that he’s happy. He’s doing what he’s been striving to do for all his years at university, so of course he is.

You search his dark eyes for his thoughts, too. When your eyes meet Scara’s he let’s out a tired smile.

“I missed you,” he easily says. The words come out easier than they would’ve years ago.

Your heart skips a beat, even years later.

“How? We’ve been working together all day,” you say.

“Do I need a reason to miss the person I love?” Scara scoffs, looking away from you to study the script he brought with him.

It isn’t the first time Scaramouche had told you that he loves you, but it’s never stopped holding the same weight it did the first time he’d ever said it.

It’s a rare type of love. The kind that exists so rarely for people in this industry and that lead lives similar to your guys’.

His loves makes you feel alive everyday. And Scara should know it, you should tell him more often—even if it’s rather dramatic for midday on set for their most recent project. It’s something you’d bring up at night that you two could laugh about in bed. Even if it catches Scara off guard.

But Scaramouche’s love caught you off guard, too, and every second you got the privilege to spend with him was a gift.

And as you stare at him, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume and eyebrows scrunched as he mouths his lines, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow heavy.

“I suppose you don’t,” you reply, a minute too late, but Scara still chuckles at your response as he tosses the script aside.

“What? You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, “And I thought I was the emotionally constipated one.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, hitting him on the shoulder, “I love you, too. I guess.”

“Archons, you’re worse than me.”

“No, you were much worse when we were younger!”

“It was hot and mysterious when I did it.”

“Uh huh, just go back to set I’m sick of you.”

“Weird way to say you agree but okay.”

“Go!”

.

.

.

୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev

author’s notes — and that’s a wrap folks! hope the ending wasn’t awkward i just wanted it to be short and sweet. anyway, thank u to everyone who read and kept up with this fic, means a lot to me that this blew up as it was smth i wrote for myself. if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate the silent readers, anons, and ppl who left me sm cute comments and reblogs. u guys made writing it more fun and easier to ignore the not so nice ppl. i cant reply to everyone but just know i do read every ask and comment i get! i do hope to see u guys in my notifs in the future even if i don’t write for genshin anymore, but if not then i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 have a great day/night byebye

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

[theriverbeyond]

It's crazy how well-crafted Hadestown is, like there aren't many shows out there that have equally strong messages artistically and politically. What do you think of the balancing of Hades as a character? Personally I love how it's shown that even after his reconnection with Persephone it's his clinging to the existing power structure that leads him to make the deal he does with Orpheus, so it isn't a clear-cut redemption - I think that is what makes it so neither his humanity nor the system he upholds feels hollow.

CRACKS KNUCKLES ok so on a character/thematic/narrative level I'm obsessed with Hades because the political compentary he represents feels so coherent and distinctly recodnizable to like, Figures and Systems Of Power that exist in the world right now

I really really really love how Hades specifically turns to industry because he is *lacking* genuine love/connection/care and using these material comforts trying to fill the void inside him -- "Lover, you were gone so long/ Lover, I was lonesome/ So I built a foundry/ In the ground beneath your feet" -- it feels very similar to how so much of modern life is Being Sold The Idea Of Love And Connection. We too turn to capitalism to replace genuine connection that is lacking in our lives, like how buying and being sold the aesthetics of community is easier than actually creating and being in community. Genuine affection and care vs the feeling of power as you wield it over others.

And Hades doing this only further alienates him from Persephone, and it becomes this vicious cycle of him creating and upholding a system that drives away any actual connection, which then of course only motivates him to Continue Onwards. His "Lover, when you see that glare/ Think of it as my despair for you" with Persephone responding "Lover, what have you become/ Coal cars and oil drums/ Warehouse walls and factory floors/ I don't know you anymore".

And re: Hades' redemption, I think the fascinating thing is he ISN'T redeemed. TO ME!! He gets to the point of redemption and then he turns away, which I think fits really well into the overarching theme of the show, as in, resisting the pull of capitalism feels impossible and often ends in tragedy but we should do it anyway, and also fits the PATTERN of the show, which is people getting to the doorstep of freedom and then turning around.

Specifically, when Orpheus asks "Can we go?" and Hades says "I don't know", that is his redemption point. He wants to help them, but he feels stuck, and trapped in this web he created and sat himself in the middle of. Can he break his own system? And Hades' personal tragedy is he gets SO CLOSE but then the Fates (or like, his own inner dialogue) come in and tempt him away. They make him Doubt -- "If you let him go/ Oh you're a spineless king/ And you'll never get em in line again". He is, at the end of the day, TOO trapped in the system he has created ("Whole damn nation's watching you"), too dependent on the workers he exploits that he doesn't see any other way to live. "That's the way the world is". Hades gets so close to letting them go before he turns around, because he decides that letting them go means letting himself go, and he no longer thinks that is possible.

He does let them try, though. "Give them a rope and they'll hang themselves" he does expect them to fail, because he doesnt himself have hope that another world is truly possible, but he knows Orpheus does. Even as he turns back I feel like he's saying. If you believe another world is possible, prove it. "Show the way so we believe"

And I'm just so obsessed with this sequence because like -- "Show the way so we can see/ Show the way the world could be/ If you can do it, so can she/ If she can do it, so can we/ Show the way" -- the unspoken here is that Hades is watching too, and this is a trial, and a test, and like. He can't break the system. He doesn't know how, he doesn't feel like it's possible. But he's watching, he can't not watch, and so that means like. Orpheus' effort is worth it. His believing is worth it. Even as they all fail, again and again and again, it's worth it.

[nxtt2-u]

⏤ cookies ࣪ ⤹

minho comes home late on your birthday and discovers you in the kitchen.

꒰ lee minho + fem!reader ⏤ 1.7k words ꒱ oneshot

༄ content info & warnings !! established relationship. fluff ⋆ some swearing. it gets suggestive at the end.

✉️𓂃 ࣪˖ i recently tried to make cookies from scratch and it turned out so bad 😭 i’ll stick to the pre-made packs… anyways, enjoy!! unedited as of 8/6.

You prop yourself against the headboard of the bed you share with your boyfriend, Minho, who still has yet to come home. You’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone when you pause and your eyes flicker to the timestamp at the top left of your screen: eleven p.m, it dully reads, and he’s still nowhere to be seen.

Today is your birthday. This year it rolls around on a Wednesday, so it’s no surprise that Minho would be stuck at the company today. However, he often gets out around eight — it’s three hours past that mark, and a bit of sadness creeps into your mind at the realization.

You logically know he can’t control his work schedule and that he would 100% have taken off today to pamper you if he could. But the idol industry is demanding, and Stray Kids is still filming promotions for their new album, so he had no choice but to head in today.

Earlier this morning, Minho woke before sunrise to prepare a lavish breakfast for you. When he eagerly padded back to your shared bedroom half an hour later to rouse you with a proud smile, he found you sprawled out over his side of the bed, sleepily clutching his pillow in wake of his absence.

His heart squeezed in his chest at the domestic sight, so full of tender love for you that it was borderline painful. He leaned on the doorframe for a moment, simply admiring the beautiful slopes of your features that were highlighted by the dim glow of your nightstand lamp. Eventually, he managed to pull himself away from the doorway to wander over to you, waking you with gentle kisses peppered all over your face.

He tugged you out of bed and bundled you into one of his hoodies before happily grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen where your steaming meal awaited you on the kitchen island.

Minho hugged you from behind as you dug in, giggling lightly when you praised his cooking between bites with stuffed cheeks and crinkled eyes. It made his heart swell in his chest and the delicate grip he had on your hips tightened ever so slightly as he fought the urge to knead the soft flesh beneath his fingertips. He really is a cat, huh?

When you finished eating, he cheekily claimed he wanted a taste to ensure the food was good. So of course, you smiled and granted him a quick peck before skittering back to your bedroom, ignoring his affronted whine with a playful smile when you reminded him he had to get ready. If you two started making out in the kitchen, things would’ve escalated without a doubt and he would’ve absolutely been late.

With a grumpy pout, he side eyed you from his newfound place in the bathroom. He went through his skincare regimen, got dressed, and caged you in on the bed for one last kiss before he was out the door with a sigh.

You recall the promise he murmured against your lips before he left, the promise that he’ll make it up to you when he gets home.

You sigh and rub your eyes, setting your phone down as you try to ignore the way they burn with exhaustion. You’re going to stay up for him, damn it, even if he comes home at six in the morning.

You toss off the covers and trudge down the hall in a baggy sweater and comfortable shorts to pour yourself a cup of water with a yawn. Hm, maybe you should bake…? It’ll keep you busy while you wait.

And that’s how Minho finds you when you come home. The sleeves of your sweater are tugged up to the nooks of your elbows and a bit of flour taints the front of the dark fabric as you knead at some dough. The floor isn’t spared from your mess, either, and he bites back a laugh at the way your socked feet dance around the fallen powder when you move to transfer a pan.

You don’t notice his presence for a hot second until you hear the crinkle of plastic wrapping and a small giggle from the entryway of the kitchen when you drop a blob of dough on your sock.

You whip around to discover your boyfriend in just a black tee and sweats to match. He’s standing quietly near the corner of the wall with a bouquet of fresh flowers in hand and a lovesick smile on his lips.

“Minho!” You beam, moving to hug him but pausing when you realize your unsanitary predicament. Your clothes are a mess, as is the floor, and the kitchen is in utter disarray from all of the supplies you whipped out to try your hand at baking cookies from scratch. You should’ve just called up Felix for help earlier…

Your smile turns from joyful to sheepish as you turn back to the counter, moving to quickly mold the last bits of dough into vaguely-shaped balls so you could be in his arms sooner than later. “Sorry, I’d hug the fuck outta you right now, but it’s too messy.”

He steps away to place the flowers on the dining table before padding back over to you, heedless of the flour covering the floor. He plasters his chest against your back, giving a pleased hum when your warmth seeps through his clothes and onto his chilled skin. He’s so happy to have you in his arms again. “It’s alright,” he murmurs with a soft kiss to your nape. “I’m sorry for being so late tonight, love.”

You shiver at the press of his lips against your skin, though you’re the farthest thing from cold. “Don’t apologize,” you chide him. “You couldn’t control it, so you did nothing wrong. If anybody’s in the wrong, it’s your company for never giving you time off,” you huff with an eye roll, turning to rinse your hands at the sink. The cookies are finally ready to bake!

Minho stays on your heels like a lost puppy while you flit about the kitchen. You slide the full pan of your questionable cookies into the oven and set a timer for fifteen minutes before moving to clean up the disorder that reigns over your counters.

He helps you clean and you two fall into an easy conversation about how your respective days went. He complains about how long they filmed for, the constant outfit changes, the English interview he had to sit through and struggle to comprehend.

Eventually your conversation fizzles out into a comfortable silence and you both end up on the couch, watching a random romance drama on Netflix. You’re curled into Minho’s side and he’s playing with the ends of your hair when you begin to feel the lingering sadness from earlier finally bleeding out of your frame with every gentle touch.

You’re about to lean up to kiss him, but the shrill ring of the timer goes off and nearly startles Minho off the couch. You laugh at his rapid blinking as you get up to silence the noise and take out the cookies. He finds you again a moment later and peers over your shoulder to look at your fresh creation.

You grimace a bit. “Um… I followed the recipe step by step, dude. I don’t know why it’s so…”

You awkwardly poke at the ‘cookies’ with a fork that stare up at you pitifully from their place atop your counter. They’re golden brown on the outside, which gives them a pleasing appearance, but upon further inspection you quickly discover they’re still uncooked.

Your brows furrow as you genuinely try to trace back where you went wrong, but you’re pulled from your thoughts when you feel Minho vibrating with amusement behind you.

You tip your head back and close your eyes with a rueful sigh when he doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably. “Oh my God, they look so fucking sad!” He howls, on the floor at this point.

It’s not even that funny, but seeing him near tears because of your poor baking attempt leads to your own laughter bubbling out of your chest. You end up cackling on the floor with him, and moments later you’re both gasping for breath as you lay side by side on the cold tiles of your kitchen floor.

Your cheeks ache with joy when you sit up and flop over his body, effectively pinning him to the floor with your weight. Minho lets out a punched exhale at the sudden pressure but keeps smiling brightly regardless, his hands coming to rest on the small of your back as you breathe contentedly into the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” you sigh out. You swear you feel his heart stutter in his chest where it’s pressed against your own, and he blinks slowly at the top of your head, cat-like and dopey. “I love you too,” he answers before he pulls you up into a kiss.

You lose yourself as you two lock lips, unhurried and sweet. Although you’re only making out, you can’t help the arousal that starts to simmer in your lower stomach when his hands start to roam beneath the back of your sweater. You smirk against his lips and pull back. “You said you’d make it up to me when you got home, remember? How ‘bout we head to bed and you show me just what you meant, yeah?”

His eyes darken and he wastes no time in hopping up from the floor and scooping you up. You’d just have to throw out the cookies tomorrow morning, you suppose.

“It’d be my pleasure, darling,” he grins as he tosses you over his shoulder with ease like you’re nothing but a sack of rice. You squeal with delight when he lightly slaps your ass and the sound melts into a giggle when he leans in to chomp lightly on a cheek.

“You’re insatiable,” you chuckle when he deposits you on the bed and immediately clambers on top of you. He leans down to suck a mark into your collarbones and you can feel his lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Yeah, but we both know you love it.”

2024 © nxtt2-u on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[its-vannah]

Girl, Put Your Records On | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

A/N: I haven't seen any fics with him, so I had to make one. I love his character so much.

Blurb: Being the daughter of a music producer has its perks, and one of those is meeting Daisy Jones and The Six's Eddie Roundtree.

Warnings: Just fluff and a hit of angst, implied intercourse (no detail)

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being the daughter of a music producer had it's perks. For starters, you were able to listen to new albums and singles before anyone else. While the rest of the world waited for upcoming releases, you were already taking the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the phonograph.

Not to mention all the artists and bands you were able to meet. Your father was constantly popping open a bottle of champagne to celebrate his clients to celebrate their upcoming albums and tours.

Although you were too young to drink yourself, it was nice to feel included. Being there with your father, surrounded by new and interesting people with dozens of stories to share.

But being the daughter of a music producer has its downsides, too. On the smaller scale, sometimes your favorite songs wouldn't make the cut. When you were younger, it hit harder. But as you got older, you just accepted it and moved on.

That wasn't the only down that the role came with, however. You were a young, beautiful, kind girl with a heart of gold and a lot of love to give. Not many men in the industry had any problem taking advantage of that.

There was a thrill to it, for them. Sneaking around with their producer's daughter with the possibility of getting caught at any moment. You were sixteen when you had your first love. He told you all the right things, did all the right things. But the night before he left, he tried to convince you to "live in the moment" while leading you to his van.

It didn't take long for you to realize what was happening, so you freed yourself from his grasp, shoving him back and walking back inside your home.

He was too old for you, anyway. He was twenty, and you were still a kid. It wasn't right, but it was the seventies and he was gaining popularity. It didn't matter what he did, he had every girl in America wrapped around his finger. You, however, had made the choice not to be one of them.

A few years later, when you were nineteen, an up and coming group walked inside your father's studio. He was hesitant about letting them record, but he trusted Teddy and gave them a shot, alllowing you to sit inside the sound booth to hear them play.

You could see the nervousness written all over their faces as they got ready to play. They wanted to impress Teddy, and you didn't blame them. He wasn't easy to read.

Reclining in your seat beside Marcus, who gradually increased the volume on the lead vocalist and lowered the sound of the guitars, you smiled as you listened to them play.

By the end of their demo, you were on the edge of your seat waiting to find out whether or not they'd get an offer.

While Teddy went to discuss it with your father, you stepped out of the sound booth and made your way towards the group.

Smiling, you held out a hand to the only woman, who was closest to you when you walked in, introducing yourself, "Hey, I'm Y/N."

Karen gave you a gentle smile, shaking your hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Karen."

The drummer, who was fiddling with his drum sticks, hollered over her, "That's Karen Karen."

Raising a brow, you couldn't help but release a small laugh, "Karen Karen?"

The blonde shot him a look, "Fuck off, Warren."

Warren grinned, nodding his head as a way of greeting you.

Beside him, the lead vocalist looked over at you, "Is there something you need, Samantha?"

"It's Y/N," You corrected, "And I just wanted to say I like your sound. It's different. I think you guys have a good chance of getting a deal."

One of the guitarists, the one with curly hair who had been ogling Karen for the past half hour, smiled up at you from his seat on the amp, "Thank you, Y/N. Our main focus is creating music that people l-"

"For the love of God, Graham, shut up," The vocalist grumbled, turning back towards you, "Look, it's nice to meet you, but we're a bit busy here."

Graham held his hands up in surrender, returning to fiddling with his guitar, mouthing "sorry" to you.

The fifth member of the group, who had been nervously tapping his foot flashed his bandmate an irritated look, "C'mon, Billy, she's just being nice. At least people actually like our music."

"Eddie, all I'm saying is that we need to spend less time socializing and more time figuring out what we do if we don't get this deal."

On that note, you cleared your throat, "You'll get the deal."

Simultaneously, Eddie and Billy spoke over one another, the former asking if you really thought so and the latter asking how in the hell you knew.

"I know Mr. L/N well, and so does Teddy. Look, the last few bands Teddy has invested in haven't been doing too great. But I really think you guys have a chance. I know you guys do."

Eddie gave you a lopsided smile, "They liked us in Pittsburgh, I don't see how this is any different."

Billy glared back at him, "If you'll excuse us, I think we have a few things to discuss."

Nodding, you turned to exit, giving the band one last smile. But before you could step out the door, Teddy came back in with your father in tow.

Teddy looked at the band, "We're giving you a shot, don't blow it."

The band, who Teddy had earlier referred to as The Six, erupted in smiles, hugging each other and patting one another on the back.

Your dad wrapped an arm around you, addressing the band, "I see you've met my daughter?"

Billy's eyes widened a bit. He thought you were just some random kid. But you had been in the sound booth, he should've known better.

Warren, who was very obviously high, nodded, "Yeah, she's hot."

Wincing, Karen glared at him, "She's been very kind, Mr. L/N."

Your dad eyed Warren, kissing you on the head before congratulating the band one last time, kissing you on the forehead, and walking back to his office.

Once he was out of sight, Eddie took one of Warren's drumsticks out of his hands and smacked him on the head with it, muttering, "Dumbass, that was her dad."

The drummer's mouth formed an "O", "You think he knows?"

"Jesus Christ, Warren," Karen said, shaking her head before turning to Billy, "And you, you need to get the stick out of your ass."

A look of pride settled on Eddie's face. You could tell the two of them didn't see eye to eye just from the small interactions you had with them.

Moving towards the exit, you waved them goodbye, "I'll see you guys around."

Warren and Graham waved happily, Karen and Billy nodded, and Eddie tilt his head to the side with a smile.

Once you were out of earshot, Karen looked back at Eddie, "Jealous, are you, Roundtree?"

"Piss off, Karen."

Warren looked between the two of them, connecting the dots, "Psst, Karen, I think he's jealous."

Rolling her eyes, she flashed him an irritated smile, "Yeah, I figured that out, thanks."

------------------------------------------------------------

Billy: As soon as we got the news and packed up, I ran to the nearest phone to tell Camila. She had always believed in us, and now everything was falling into place.

Karen: I think I went back and got drunk in my room afterwards. We may have gone out to eat, I don't remember. We had been living gig to gig, I was just happy to have an income.

Camila: It was the first time in a while that Billy really seemed happy with how the band was going. He had always believed in it, but I really think it helped him to see that everything was coming into place. That we wouldn't be living in a shack forever.

Warren: I don't even remember being in the studio. I was in my twenties, I was doing anything I could get my hands on. Drugs, alcohol, women. I was just along for the ride.

Karen: I could still kill Warren for telling the producer's daughter, Y/N, that she was hot in front of her dad.

Warren: We all thought it. Especially Eddie. I was just the one who said it.

Eddie: There was something about Y/N that was different. She wasn't just a newfound fan, she believed in us from the start. She and Camila were the first people to have our record in their hands. As for Warren's comment to her dad... She was beautiful, still is, I just think he could've handled it better. A lot better. By not saying anything.

Graham: It was nice to know that someone outside of the band and Teddy believed in us. Moving out to LA meant that we were starting over. In Pittsburgh, nearly the whole city had heard of us. At least, the people our age.

Eddie: That day was a turning point for the band.

Camila: There was no going back after that. They started recording and within a month, they were on their first tour.

------------------------------------------------------------

You came to every recording session The Six had, excitedly listening to their songs and giving input. You studied the way Marcus moved the volume and reverb, making a mental note of it. What he did had always fascinated you, and he was willing to teach you. It was one of the perks of being F/N L/N's daughter. People bent over bsckwards to make you happy.

Over the course of their time recording, you went out for drinks a few times with them.

You met Camila, who you adored, and quickly became friends with. You wouldn't have changed any of it for the world.

Well, except one thing.

From the moment you met Eddie Roundtree, your heart hadn't stopped fluttering, skipping a beat every time he walked into the room.

Warren constantly teased the two of you about it, suggesting different ways to release the tension between the two of you.

Karen kicked him under the table, giving him a look that sent fear down his spine.

It made the moment awkward for a minute, but the band could sense it was bound to happen.

Eddie was used to being pushed around by Billy, who was by far the most popular and well-known member of The Six. But for once, he was first place. With you.

The two of you often nursed a glass of champagne, talking to one another at the bar while Graham attempted to flirt with Karen, who wound up finding another guy to hook up with, and Warren fell into a crowd of women.

He took a sip, looking down at you, "What's it like, getting to hear new music before anyone else? Not just ours, but in general."

"It's incredible. Don't get me wrong, being in the studio so much has its ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. There's nothing else I can imagine myself doing. That's why I want to work in the sound booth."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Marcus offered to teach me a while back. I just wanted to wait until you guys went on tour. I just want to focus on The Six, just taking it all in."

Eddie bit his bottom lip, "So... You and Marcus...?"

You shook your head, "Are friends. My mother is friends with his. We grew up together, he's just a few years older. He's protective, like how I imagine an older brother would be."

He nodded, "So, are you seeing anyone?"

"No," You let out a shaky breath, not meeting his eyes, "Are you?"

"No, are—I already asked you that," He said nervously, swirling his glass in his hand, "Do you... Have an interest in... You know, seeing anyone?"

"It depends on who it is," You said, heat rising to your cheeks, "And you? Anyone on your mind?"

He set down his glass, looking at you, "There is."

Meeting his eyes, you turned your back to the counter, leaning on it for support, "What's she like?"

"You have a mirror?"

You burst out laughing, "Is that your best line, Eddie? C'mon, you can do better than that."

He put his head in his hands, embarrassed.

Pressing a hand to his back, you used your other to pry his head away from his hands, "Don't worry, you can make it up to me."

Raising a brow, he tilted his head, "And how can I do that?"

"Pick me up on Friday at six."

"That's the day before tour starts."

"I know."

He nodded, "Wear something nice."

"Don't I always," You tease, stumbling into his chest.

He lifted the glass from your hands, "You know what I mean. I do, however, think you've had enough of this. C'mon, I'll drive you home"

------------------------------------------------------------

Warren: I was so happy to see Eddie leaving with Y/N. He was growing up, leaving the nest. It was about time he got laid.

Eddie: I drove her home. She had driven herself, but I was worried with her having three glasses. Truthfully, I just wanted to see her get home safe. And she did. I dropped her off at her door, walked her up, and waited until she got inside before I left. Once I got back in the car, it hit me—I had a date with Y/N.

Karen: I think he was more excited about the date than the record deal.

Eddie: It had just been a big few months. Moving to LA, getting a deal, meeting Y/N. Things were finally going my way.

------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie: Long distance relationships weren't easy by any means. I was the one who had to call, since we were constantly moving around. It strained us a bit, but she was able to go to a few of our concerts and I got to see her, take her out a few times.

Karen: Y/N visited us while we were in the northeastern part of the states. She stayed with us for a week and a half. And I never got any damn sleep while she was with Eddie. They could've been quieter, but I guess it was young love.

Eddie: She had her own hotel room during her time staying with us. Her dad set it up. We'd just stay in mine talking to one another.

Warren: Eddie swore nothing happened in his hotel room when he was alone with her, but I was on the other side of the wall. Look, I was pretty high, but it'd be hard to forget that. I may have been the one to call her hot, but he was the one that took it three, four steps further. Good for him, though.

Eddie: It was only when we got back from the tour that things started to go downhill with me and Y/N.

Camila: After I gave birth to Julia, Billy checked into Rehab. I was on my own for a while. But when the band came back, they were there to help me. Julia enjoyed time with Uncle Graham and Eddie, and Y/N whenever she was off work.

Graham: Eddie and I were there a few times a week just helping out and checking in on Camila and Julia. I loved that kid more than anything. We'd just sit out in the grass and I'd sing to her.

Eddie: Camila needed all the help she could get, especially with Billy not being there. Not that he would've done much anyway, to be honest. I tried to be there for her and Julia in any way I could. I didn't realize that it would tear Y/N and I apart.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Eddie, I barely ever get to see you. Can't you go one day without seeing Camila and Julia? You can stay with me. It's better than that shack."

"That shack is my home, whether it's shit or not, Y/N," He grumbled, "Camila needs all the help she can get with Julia. She's only a few months old."

"Her mother is with her, Eddie. She's got her mom, Graham, the whole band really. It's not that I don't want you to be with them, I just want to see you. I never get to see you."

Eddie sighed, "Y/N, they mean everything to me."

"They're your bandmates, I get it, I just—"

"Y/N..."

It was written all over his face. He wasn't just talking about The Six.

------------------------------------------------------------

Karen: We'd all known, except for maybe Billy and Camila, that Eddie was in love with Camila. We just thought that he had put those feelings aside when he met Y/N.

Warren: Out of all the girls Eddie had dated, which hadn't been much, she was my favorite. She was fun, she kept up with us, she was passionate about music and the band. When they broke up, I nearly snapped the guys neck. And I'm not a violent guy. She just deserved better than whatever the hell that was.

Eddie: Camila and Billy were married. I would never have come in the way of that. At the same time, it wasn't fair to Y/N. I loved her with my whole being, but I still had some unresolved feelings for Camila that started stiring when Billy was gone. It's wrong, and I know that, but it wasn't fair.

Graham: Eddie was an idiot for what happened. I remember when he came back from their first date. He swore up and down that they'd get married one day.

------------------------------------------------------------

When the band broke up, everyone went their separate ways. Karen continued touring, this time without Daisy and The Six. Warren got married and started working on boats, which became a passion for him. Billy stepped away from music and settled into life with Camila and his daughters and Graham continued working in the music industry, starting his own family. Daisy recovered from her addictions, and wound up adopting kids of her own.

These all took years to play out. But not for Eddie.

As soon as the band was over with, the first thing he did was buy a ticket to LA and knock on Y/N's door.

He explained everything and told her he loved her, he always had.

------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N Roundtree: Eddie proposed to me the night he showed up on my doorstep. He told me he couldn't imagine a life without me. I was touched.

Eddie: But she said no.

Y/N: I loved him, but I told him it would take time. We still had so much we didn't know about each other. It had been ages since I had seen him. I didn't even know that the Six had split up until he told me. He was back in LA that fast after the split.

Eddie: We did get to know each other, though. And I proposed almost a year later. We got married a few months after that. And the rest is history.

Y/N: It was a quiet ceremony. Eddie didn't want Billy there, and thought it may be a bit off putting for me to have Camila there. But I knew how much he cared about her and the girls, so we extended an invite.

Camila: Billy and Eddie never really saw eye to eye, and with Billy finally getting comfortable with family life, I didn't think it would be good to thrust him back into that.

Eddie: Y/N was a little upset they chose not to come, but understood. If you invite half a family, it doesn't exactly work.

Billy: I was surprised Eddie found the balls to get married.

Y/N: It wound up just being Eddie's immediate family, mine, Marcus, Warren, and Graham. Daisy showed up a few days earlier to congratulate us on our wedding, bringing a guitar with her as a gift. She just didn't think being back in that environment would be good for her. There would be too many questions.

Daisy: Just because the band was over doesn't mean the music couldn't continue. Eddie was a good guitarist and Y/N knew everything about managing sound and rhythms, so I figured it was an appropriate gift. I was really happy for them.

Eddie: Karen was touring at the time and wasn't able to make it, but she visited once the tour was over and stayed a few days.

Y/N: I preferred having a smaller wedding, with the people we knew the most.

Warren: They had great alcohol. I wasn't high during the reception, so I was actually able to enjoy it. I even met my wife there.

Graham: It made me long for a relationship, honestly. But it also made me realize I need to focus on myself first. I didn't want to just settle to settle.

Y/N: Our son was born a year and a half after we got married and music was automatically a big part of his life. He'd sit on Eddie's lap at not even a year old while Ed played the guitar. I still have pictures of them back then on the mantle.

Grant Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's oldest son: I remember when I decided I wanted to pursue music. Dad sat me down and explained what happens when you achieve fame and how to handle it. Mom told me that I needed to take it one step at a time and really enjoy my childhood.

Farrah Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's daughter: Grant never stopped playing that damn guitar mom gave him.

Grant: Sometimes I played just to drive Farrah and Eli crazy. I never stopped.

Eli Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's youngest son: I wanted to be just like Grant when I was younger. He was my cooler, older brother. He even taught me how to play the guitar and I could carry a tune, but my stage fright got in the way of anything beyond that.

Eddie: Grant went into the music field, Farrah pursued modeling and is now acting, and Eli is just now graduating from high school, planning to attend college this fall.

Y/N: I'll always be grateful for Daisy Jones and The Six, but I've got to be honest—I'm even happier it ended when it did.

Eddie: Everything happens for a reason, and for me, it couldn't have ended at a better time.

[boyfhee]

⋆ NOW WE DATE ! · psh

CHAPTER SEVEN · ruin our friendship

SYNOPSIS · everyone knew you were sunghoon's biggest fan— or so you claimed to be— it didn't take a scientist to guess after your nonstop gushing about him during enhypen's debut. now, they didn't know you found him 'so babygirl' not until you accidentally tweeted it on your main.

warnings · food mentions + written part under the cut ( 1.02k )

the weverse live went smoother than expected. 

well, it’s not like you had been anticipating some sort of commotion or whatsoever, but you did expect random bouts of awkwardness every ten to fifteen minutes because first, both you and sunghoon lie slightly towards the introvert side of the myers-briggs type indicator; and second, you both are aware of everything that has went down between the two of you in past two to three days. moreover, being awkward is natural when you’re meeting someone for the first time— which is not exactly true because you did meet sunghoon at the backstage of music bank from nine months ago when iris and enhypen were promoting their respective albums, but if greeting each other in hallways counts as meeting people then you probably have already met three-fourth of the industry. 

“i kind of imagined you as someone who prefers vanilla or something, instead of chocolate,” and you certainly didn’t expect sunghoon to take you out of ice cream just three hours before midnight. 

“i like all the flavours but nothing tops chocolate,” you say before eating another spoonful from your cup. “i even did a commercial for melona as a kid, although it’s not chocolate. you can still find it on youtube, i guess,” singing wasn’t really your forte, unlike acting. you’ve had quite an active childhood from the ‘job’ point of you, for you always had a few commercial shoots here and there every few months. your career as an actress didn’t blow up until after you had debuted in iris. even as a childhood actress, you only had minor to second lead roles except one in ‘crushed,’ which accounts for your first main role and also is the drama that brought you into the spotlight before debut. 

you feel sunghoon smile as he unlocks his phone to switch to another playlist— it’s for both of you since one of his’ airpods is with you and listening to music while having ice cream sounds like a perfect date, as friends, of course. though, you’d be lying if you claim your heart didn’t do a little something when sunghoon offered you his airpods. “why did you ask me to get ice cream with you, though?” 

“i just wanted to spend some time with you,” a pause. you stop on your way, albeit a few steps ahead of him, turning around to look at sunghoon’s flustered face that was adorned by the dim streetlights. a series of silence follows, a string of fluttering gazes along with heartbeats that could be heard clearly if they get any louder. before you could say anything, sunghoon stuffs his phone back into his pocket out of panic. “wait— don’t get me wrong. i mean, you’re cool and fun to be around so, you know— please don’t misunderstand,” 

and a soft chuckle falls off your lips. “jeez, hoon, you’re all good,”

the comforting silence never leaves, it’s rather amusing to the two of you. considering everything that has happened so far, from your silly tweet to him assuming you’re dating jaemin and everything that he ends up blabbering in front of you, anyone would end up getting awkward. fortunately, that isn’t the case for him. perhaps, the heavens are on his side, and maybe that is all he needs to muster up the courage to say his next words. “to be completely honest, ice cream was an excuse because i was sort of hoping we’d get to know each other better,” 

“yeah, i’d love that,” your voice isn’t much louder than a whisper, but you know your words reached him anyway. the smile dancing on his face holds numerous tales, if one could notice closely. “by the way, you still didn’t tell me the thing that could potentially ruin our friendship,” 

“i did, didn’t i? i texted you,” 

“and you want me to believe that?” you scoff, remembering his response. even if it was supposed to be a coverup, you did find yourself too stunned to react at that moment. “i mean, i won’t judge you for the things you like to be called and all, but we both know what you said back then was a lie,” 

another pause, another session of silence trailing around along with the slight tension lingering in the air. you look at sunghoon and he’s looking anywhere but at you. one second, his eyes are on the ground. the next, they’re traversing places with his lips pressed into a thin line. it’s when you realise how difficult it is to read his expression, an exasperated sigh falls off his lips. “okay, i think i’m being annoying, so i won’t force you, even though i’m—”

“you’re not annoying. also, i don’t think i’m ready to tell you so wait for me till then, and i promise i’ll tell you when the right time comes,” and it’s embarrassing how easily his words can fluster you. “besides, i don’t want to ruin our friendship yet,” even if you think you have a faint idea of what he might be hiding, you’d dare not get ahead of yourself because at the end of day, you and sunghoon are just friends. sure, you do like him a little more than friends but you’re almost convinced that it’s just a silly little celebrity crush. it’s not the first time you’re fawning over a celebrity, even if it’s your first time being so crazily interested in someone, but you like to think it’s a stage between strangers and friends, and nothing more. 

“oh, by the way, um, there’s ice cream on your lips,” he points the corner of his mouth with his index finger, hoping it would give you an idea, but when you miss the spot after a couple of attempts, assorting to your phone’s front camera to get a clearer look, sunghoon finds himself taking the tissue from your hand, proceeding to wipe the ice cream off your lips himself, completely and terribly unable to hide the blush on his cheeks. and the moment you tried to tell yourself that you aren’t in love, is when you realised you already were. 

PREV · NEXT · MASTERLIST

n : need me a sunghoon, like rn .... also visgenes...visions + engene....iris and vision? yk u see w ur iris and ability to see is vision do u see the vision here bc that's the best i could come up with

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 8- Five Steps Forward

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: Things will get interesting in the next chapter. Anyway, I have every chapter outlined but sometimes when I write I stray from the plot. I did so a bit here. I wanted to work on the chemistry between Reader and Valeria. It's hard trying to write heartfelt moments with Valeria while also trying to keep her canon personality

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH20.), Dual POV

Valeria is finally making back all that lost revenue. She sifts through reports and graphs over the last few weeks. Watching that little green line slowly crawl up. Larger batches for a lower price proved to be a good business move. Despite now finally rivalling the Super Meth, Deigo still wants to go down to Pajaro Azul. Snuff out the competition anyway. Valeria still finds herself wary of treading on hostile territory, but she sees where he's coming from. Having another product that close to your own in quality is cutting it far too close for comfort.

She sets aside the stack of papers. Things are finally getting good, but they aren't yet stable. At least she's making progress with you. You two have even had your unofficial first and second dates. Cooking meth together and drinking wine. Maybe you didn't see those events as dates, but Valeria certainly did. She's confident there's something growing between the two of you. Valeria stretches and yawns. She had offered to have you come over, to paint you. Truth is, she's painted you already. Quite a few times. Each attempt more accurate than the last.

Although for each five steps forward you seem to take two back. Valeria thought you'd be more comfortable at work if she presented herself as a friend, but you've gone back to yourself imposed isolation. Valeria hardly sees you and when she tries to speak your answers are all dry and bare bones. It's frustrating for Valeria but she's not giving up on you. She wonders how you'll feel when she tells you who she sent to Pajaro Azul. a couple enforcers as well as Corra. Will Corra's absence make you feel better? It certainly made Valeria feel better. she knows you don't want anything to do with Corra, refusing to even stay in the same room as her, but Valeria feels paranoid that for whatever reason you two will fall back on speaking terms. She still views Corra as a threat to you and her. Having her gone really makes life better.

Wood scraping against wood sounds through the room as Valeria stands, pushing her chair back. She runs her fingers through the shiny black strands of her hair, which now dangle against her shoulders. Her hair is getting longer, she muses. She needs to cut it soon. Valeria adjusts her belt and holsters before making her way towards the door. Time to put an end to your isolation. Valeria strides down the long halls with purpose. she goes unstopped, people know better than to bother her. She keeps a sharp eye out though. Watching for any unacceptable behavior. She's had too many of her men get high on the job. 

Seems everyone is on their best behavior today. Valeria stops in front of the metal door leading down into the concealed, illegal, very professional meth lab. She gives the door a few, swift knocks before walking inside.

"Suit!" You bark without looking at her. Valeria inwardly sighs. You always stick so closely to rules and safety procedures. It makes you an excellent worker, but sometimes Valeria thought you could do with some loosening up. 

"Why don't you come out here and take a break." She suggests, voice echoing through the room. "You've been down here for ages."

"Can't lose my flow." You reply. Struggling to lift a heavy container. The pseudoephedrine, if Valeria is remembering correctly.

Valeria leans against the wall. Unimpressed.

"Take a break." She says firmly. You awkwardly halt, instinctively wanting to follow her orders but then you go back to work. Pouring the pseudo into a flask. Valeria says your name. "Take a break."

You finally stop and turn to face her. Watching from behind the glass eye holes of your gas mask. You don't speak though. Instead, you reluctantly approach her. Moving past her up the stairs. In the hallway you take off your gas mask. She watches appreciatively as a bead of sweat slowly drips down your neck. Valeria moves to stand beside you. Crossing her arms over her chest.

"How's it going?" Valeria asks. "You almost done this batch?"

You shrug. "Halfway there." That's it. Halfway there. Valeria waits for you to speak. You don't. You stand there stiffly and stare off into space.

"Did something happen?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at you. Apart from the whole thing with Corra but Valeria doesn't think you should still be upset over that.

"No, why?" You don't even look at her as you speak. It annoys her. 

Valeria raises a hand and scratches her nose. "Because you've been moody for weeks, acting like a sullen teenager."

You frown at her. "I'm not acting like a 'sullen teenager.'" You say defensively. 

"No?" Valeria says, raising her brows. "Sure seems like it."

You scoff at her and smile, though you're not amused. Still, even though your smile isn't genuine she thinks it looks good on you. She'd like to see you do it more often. "Am I supposed to just smile and laugh all the time? Is that how I have to be to avoid being accused of being a 'sullen teenager'?"

Your anger is better than your silence. Valeria leans in and gets in your face.

"You're acting like one right now." She sneers. "Just a few words away from 'it's not a phase, mom!'"

You recoil with an appalled expression. "You're just like the rest of them." You snap. Catching Valeria off guard. "Doesn't matter what I do or say it's never the right thing for you people."

"You people?" Valeria parrots, furrowing her brows.

"Yeah, you people." You retort. "I cook meth for you, I'm not here to be some social butterfly, and news flash-" Your voice raises. "-I'm allowed to be upset."

Valeria frowns at you. "Relax, I'd remember who I'm speaking to if I were you." She warns quietly. Though she is considering your words.

She watches you shake your head. As if you were disappointed with her. That's definitely not what she wants. Valeria swallows her irritation. 

"Why are you upset?"

"You accused me of acting childish."

"I accused you of acting like a sullen teenager." She corrects. "You were upset before that though. Why?"

You eye her like she's setting a trap. "It doesn't matter how old I or the people around me get. Nothing ever changes." You reply. "It's like there's something wrong with me and they know it at first glance. I'm treated like a joke."

Valeria almost empathizes with your frustration. "Do you think I see you as I joke?" She asks.

You don't respond right away. Chewing on the inside of your cheek and you mull over your words. "I'm not sure how you see me." You admit. "Sometimes it feels like you value me and the work I do here and sometimes I get the feeling that you see me as some sort of pet."

Silence settles in the dust between the two of you. Your words lingering in the air like moisture. Valeria breathes it into her body. Absorbing them.

"I do value the work you do." Valeria says. For once she's being completely honest. Not just saying things to butter you up. "You're intelligent and reliable. Without you we wouldn't be making the money that we do." The Cartel was making plenty before you came into the picture but after Valeria's incarceration, profit plummeted. They'd likely still be struggling or have crumbled completely if you hadn't boldly stridden into her office demanding a job. You were transparent in what you had to offer and looked her in the eye the entire time. it impressed her enough to hire you. Sometimes she wished she turned you away though. Her attachment to you is frustrating.

"Any chemist worth their pseudoephedrine could cook meth." You reply dismissively. Crossing your arms and looking away. You're much more relaxed though. A clear invitation for Valeria to continue.

"Sure." Valeria says. "But you're cheaper and I find you tolerable."

"I'm tolerable and cheap. You really know how to flatter a girl." You say dryly.

Valeria stares at you intensely. 

"I'll do more to you than simple flattery, chemist." She says quietly. She catches you off guard. Watching you ponder over the meaning of her words. Innuendo or threat, you don't seem to know. "I've decided to send some people over to Pajaro Azul."

You frown. "Why?" 

Valeria can practically smell the insecurity seeping out of your pores. 'You don't think my product is good enough?' "It's a good idea to crush this issue at the source, eliminate the competition and their customers will become our customers."

"What about the Cartel down there?" You worry. 

Valeria narrows her eyes. "You don't think I'm able to handle them?" She asks. Valeria doesn't like the idea of looking weak, but she especially doesn't want you to see her that way.

You shake your head quickly.

"No, but I don't want it to cause unnecessary problems."

Valeria lays a hand on your shoulder. Feeling the warmth from your body through the thin plastic of your scrubs. "Some problems are necessary, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?"

"You won't need to worry about those ones, just cook us meth and I'll deal with everything else."

She manages to shut down any other protests. For now.