#but it's also not the worst idea (just 1-2 years “too early”) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vixen7243 · 2 months ago

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Part 2

Masterlist | Original Thought | Pt. 1

TF141 X AFAB!Reader (Soon)

Tag list: @the-faceless-bride @persephone-kore-law

*Persephone had given the brilliant idea of being closeted bisexual to add to the drama...And of course I'm going to run like a maniac with it because YEESSS, as one myself, I have so many things to put in with this. and hope they/you like how I'm taking the route so far. If anyone would like to be added to tag list let me know, and leave comments on thoughts of ideas or if there's just anything you like so far.🥰 Enjoy the reading.* CW!:SA,VIDEO OF SA, HARRASSMENT, MENTION OF SELF HARM *Oh My God, this is longer than I thought I would do, but by god. This is the set up and hopefully yall like it.*

From early on it was easy for Y/N to realize that she was into girls, secondary school when she was 11 being the biggest case in point when she had her first experience kissing a friend, ‘to see what’s it like’ of course. The giggling was endless, but when she wanted to keep going back for more and seeing that she wasn’t interested in wanting to see what it was like to kiss a boy, she talked to her mom and had a long talk and learned about lesbians, and that she was one from what she was gathering. Her mom was, to say at the very least, unsupportive, and angry, claiming having come from a family that is conservative she told Y/N never to kiss a girl again, never look at girls like that ever again. The fight that broke between them was horrible, and as much as she wanted to call her dad and tell him about what had happened, she was afraid that he would also be upset with her, and maybe disown her, telling her she was never welcome back home. She wished she hadn’t given her mom a chance this year to keep her, but the guilt of having chosen her father ate at her making her think it would do her and her mom some good to spend the year together. Now, she regrated it, regrated it even more when she came to her mom with questions of her feelings and thoughts.

As time went by, she counted down the days till she could return home, she stayed on the phone most nights with her stepmom, trying to stay positive. Only, the worry started to set in when there was only 3 months left till it would be summer and she could return home. Her stepmom had informed them that she hadn’t heard from her husband, Y/N’s father, and that she was worried for him. With him gone, your mom would be able to keep you longer, due to the fact he was supposed to be picking you up and flying back to Barr.

Then one day she had gotten a call from her stepmom, broken up with sobs, it was hard for Y/N to understand her, but she could just barely pick up that she had said something about her dad going MIA and visitors? She wasn’t sure, but she was panicked as she went to her mom crying, begging to go back and be with her grandparents and Sharon to wait to hear about her dad. She never understood what had happened between her parents to make them divorce and for her dad to move from America all the way back to Scottland, but whatever it was, she had no doubt her mother was to blame. When she refused, took Y/N’s phone and soon moved, she hated her. Hated her with a passion, tried endlessly to find her grandparents on any social media and Sharon too, but Sharon had kept her last name, and she had no clue what it was. She wished she had asked before, she cried most nights after they had first moved thinking the worst fate for her father, mourning his potential death. She never let her self-stay close to her mom, she shut her out and delved headfirst into her sexuality, dating a girl that she had learned, after they had moved, was gay. As much as her mom wanted to say something, she had to bite her tongue, only because she learned that her girlfriend was the daughter of her new boss.

That’s certainly not to say that she didn’t making life at home a living hell for Y/N, chores, no phone, took all the money she somehow managed to make by doing yardwork for neighbors and even pet and baby-sitting. Y/N eventually broke up with her girlfriend, when she had realized she did like her at first, everything was now because she was dating her out of spite and loved her more as a friend than romantically. Even though she was angry, Katy understood and, at first, kept a little bit of a distance before becoming great friends.

When she was 15 and her guy friend came over to work on a project, when she walked into her room after grabbing drinks and snacks, he was laid out on her bed, shirt ridding up showing off his abs. The flutter feeling in her stomach and blush had her freezing in her doorway as she stared at him. What in the hell is happening? Why am I feeling so...

“Sweet, you brought soda.” When he sat up, you slowly walked in and handed him a can before going to your desk quickly sitting down and trying to hide your face. “So, you want to go through the article, and I’ll look for more websites to use as references?”

“Sure.” Burying your nose into the papers you had printed earlier that day, you couldn’t stop looking at him, why did he seem so different? He’d been over plenty of times, times when you guys laid in bed watching movies or playing new games, had slept stacked on each other a few times even and you’d never felt anything before. So. Why now? What was different? Why were you feeling how you usually down when you would see an attractive girl that you were crushing on? “Oh god.”

“What? Can’t find anything?”

“Huh? Oh, no, nothing.” You chewed your lip, cursing to yourself when you felt him lean against your shoulder, he was reading the page, but you felt his breath against your neck, could ever so faintly hear him mumbling under his breath as he read, and it was making the hair on the back of your neck stand. When he finally went back to his spot on your bed you let out the breath you hadn’t known you were holding. Trying to refocus on the work at hand, you tuned him out and got a few pages of writing down before debriefing him on what you wrote and handing it to him so that way, he could add to it with whatever he had been able to find.

While he was packing up his back you cleaned up the cans and wrappers before watching him, non to subtly. “What’s the matter? You’ve been staring at me on and off all evening?”

You shook your head, although he was your friend, he wasn’t close enough that you would ever tell him that you were feeling things, things that you only feel for girls, since you were gay... or you thought all this time and had been. But now here he was out of the blue riling things up inside of you. “It’s nothing.” He was popular in your school, the same group of girls that had tormented you and bullied you since you had come out had the biggest crushes on him, and most importantly, Sam, the head bitch, had dated him for a while and hated that he hung out with you. If you told him, you started feeling... conflicting feeling towards him, things that you haven’t yet processed properly, he’d tell his friend, because he couldn’t keep anything to himself and then they would go around spreading things about you behind your back.

“Yeah right, just tell me?” When you avoided looking at him, he sighed, “You heard then huh?”

“What?”

“That Sam and I are back together.” Looking at him surprised you scowled, “We talked out some issues, and figured why not try again.”

“Didn’t she -”

“We talked things out.” He cut you off standing up.

“She sucked your cousins dick.”

“Y/N”

“He took a video and spread it all through the school.”

“And we talked about that, it’s none of your business anyways.” He waited at beat before squinting at you slightly, “Do you have a thin fer me?”

“WhAt?” You looked at him wide-eyed and mouth open, “Why would you ask me that? Ye know I-”

“Sam said you have been looking at me differently lately and that we’ve been spending time together too-”

“We’re working on a project together.”

“I told her that... you're not denying that you’ve been looking at me differently.”

Scowling you crossed your arms over your chest huffing, “Because that’s insane Jake. Ye know I’m lesbian, I’ve never been into guys. Ever.” When he opened his mouth to say something you quickly spoke up, “And even if in some other bizarre world, why would I start liking ye?”

He glared at you at that, “What the hells that supposed to mean?”

“Yer not special Jake, pretty fucking typical and boring, why would I have a thin fer ye?” You wanted to bite your tongue off, you’d never been to mean to anyone other than Sam and her little click, but you vouched that, that’s because they deserved it.

“Fuck you Y/N.” He snatched up his back and walked out, you took a deep breath before collapsing onto your bed sighing. You weren’t sure who to talk to, but you wanted to talk to someone, so, pulling out your laptop you pulled up skype, you’d found a sweet guy that lived in Edinburgh, Scottland, when you were looking for your dad and had become good friends. Dominic, he was gay and your most trusted confidante when it came to anything you needed to talk to someone about.

“Hey lass, what’s going on?”

“I’m, surprised you answered, isn’t it like midnight for you?”

“Yeah, but I can’t sleep, so again, what’s te matter?”

You leaned back into your pillow and told him what had happened when you first walked back into your room and seeing Jack on your bed to what you had said making him leave. When he stayed quiet you wrapped your arms around your waist, “I’m confused on why I was feeling that way to him and then he wouldn’t shut up about Sam and what she had said about me.... There was so much going on in my head and he was overwhelming me with so much I just went off on him and said what I shouldn’t have.” Looking up at him you whispered, “What’s going on with me?”

“Oh Christ lass,” he started laughing a bit before shaking his head, “Ye’ve gotta crush on him.”

“What? But I-”

“I know, but... from the sounds of it, ye like him. And There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“So, I’m... I’m bi? How? I’ve never liked any guys before? How am I 15 and just now liking a boy... JAKE no less?!”

His laughter made you sigh, “Late developer. It happens.” You doubted that you were still confused on your feelings but decided you’d just slowly sort yourself out.

So, for the next few months you broke down your feelings and realized that yup, you were into both guys and girls, and Jake was ignoring you still.... until. There was going to be a party at Sam’s, and your best friend Kieran had pulled you along, you lied to your mom that you were going to her house, and she lied that she was going to yours. When the bother of you walked into her house, Kieran pulled you into the kitchen handing you a cup, when you took a sip you choked huffing, making her laugh, “You never drink before?”

“No, my god, have you?”

“Few times, with family, mom would always have a cow though.” She took a swig from her cup before urging you too try and take another drink. After 2 cups, you were slowly feeling the effects before you seen Jack walking to you, Kieran already got the rundown of what had happened and that you had concluded that you were in fact bi now. She just wasn’t sure if you would be so comfortable around him yet. “Want me to distract?” She whispered tucking into your side.

“No, it’s okay.” You said taking a deep breath before smiling when he stopped in front of the both of you.

“Hey.”

He was staring right at you, you felt the blush cover your face, you swallowed thickly, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you and crack, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Kieran chirped, her smile spreading when he glanced at her for a moment before looking you over. You weren’t the thinnest, you had a little extra meat around your middle and your thighs certainly had no gap, but your confidence helped you feel comfortable wearing the short shorts, tank top and torn flannel that when seen from behind damn near made you look like you weren’t wearing any short at all.

“Wanted to talk to you in private.”

Your eyes widened as you looked to Kieran before looking back at him, “Alone? With me? Why?”

Rolling his eyes he grabbed your wrist turning and pulling him with you, when you felt the cup being pulled from your hand you looked back at Kieran who was giving you thumbs up making a smoochy face before laughing. You looked at the back of Jack’s head anxious, Where are we going? Upstairs? Why? You didn’t pay attention to the people that were watching the two of you disappear up the stairs, your sole focus was Jack and them way he laced his fingers with yours. Despite yourself on a few occasions, he had been an invading guest in some of your fantasies and dreams, that to now feel him pulling you into... oh god, a bedroom, alone, the two of you. “Whas goin on?”

After he had closed the door he guided you to the bed, making you sit down, he looked at you intensely, “I know you like me,” as you opened your mouth getting ready to say something, the hand he was holding, he pulled making you push forward and resting your other hand on his shoulder, “You’ve been staring at me a lot more since I left your place a couple weeks back, and don’t think I didn’t notice how you always blush when passing in the halls. Just say it Y/N.”

Your cheeks were burning, he was so close, you could feel his breath fanning your face, opening your mouth, a small croak came from your throat making you close your mouth swallowing before going again, “Yer still wit-”

“Say it.”

The quiet of his voice made you throw caution to the wind, “Okay, fine... Jack... I like you.” Closing the distance, you kissed him, your breath halting in your throat, his lips aren’t as soft as the few girls your previously kissed, reaching up and cupping his jaw, it was firmer, sharper. A boy, not a girl, your mind reeled with the sensation of your nerves being consumed with Jack, Jack, Jack. Feeling his hands grab at the flannel you were wearing and start pushing at it to slide it down your shoulders. Easing back, you gathered yourself, “Wait.”

“Come on.” Pulling the shirt off his hands started going for your tank.

“Hey, Jack.” Before you could say anymore, he kissed you again slowly working the top up, your body froze at hearing something in the room bang, blood running cold when laughter sounded from the closet.

“Shit, I can’t hold it in Jack, fucking look at her.” The laughter echoed in your ears as you quipped your head around and watched as 2 boys stumbled out of the closet laughing.

“Never seen so many rolls, jeez, ever heard of self-restrain piggy?”

“What are they doin here?” You looked to Jack shocked, tears threatening to build as he smirking then shook his head.

“I was close guys; this doesn't count against me since you guys interrupted.”

“Wha-”

“She would’ve stopped you anyways, she was trying.”

“Unless you were just going to ignore her protests?”

“Shut up, just keep recording, this will be good.”

“Wait, recordin? Why, stop Jack!” You cried as he yanked your tank top up before holding you, arms pinned behind your back.

The other 2 pulled their phones up recording, flashes on, catching everything, as you thrashed trying to get loose their laughter rung loud in the room, “You thought he liked you? What a joke, maybe you would’ve let him fuck you.”

“Would’ve been an easy bet for Jack to win. How annoying, I thought she was a lesbian?”

“Faking that shit for attention probably, knew no guy would want to be with a piggy unless there was something interesting about her.”

“But to think that even a girl would find this attractive? Yeah right.”

The tears were unstoppable, their horrible remarks burning and cutting into you, finally getting loose enough in his grasp, you dove down to your top slipping on your flannel running out crying, the others following and laughing, snorting at you.

“Y/N?!” You didn’t stop to wait for Kieran as you made a mad dash home, climbing up and into your room. Your phone started ringing, seeing Kieran, you ignored it, ashamed and embarrassed.

Through the weekend, you stayed away from your phone, the constant dings and ringing going ignored till it finally died. On Monday, your mother none the wiser of what had happened forced you to school. Walking up to the front you tried to ignore the laughs and people pointing at you, when you walked into the main hall, everyone was staring at you, your skin breaking out with goose bumps. Head down, you got to your locker, when you opened it, pictures and notes flooded out, you looked at as much as you could before your vision blurred. They were still images of the video, notes and drawings of pigs and insults, the worst, comments to harm yourself. “Y/N.” Looking up at Kieran, the worry written all over her face, you watched as she picked up all the papers and yanked them out of your locker yelling at everyone that was now huddled around you, phones out and laughing. After she had all the papers, she pulled you into a bathroom before you broke down, holding onto her. “Come to my house, let’s just skip today.”

Following her to her place, you sat with her in her room, telling her what had happened when you and Jack went upstairs. She held you tightly throughout the whole ordeal, curing Jack and his stupid friends. It was only a few hours before the both of you jumped at her door opening, her father stepping in looking at the both of you, “Why did you skip out of school? What’s going on here?”

“Dad, listen, please just understand we have very valid reasons, just...” She looked at you hesitantly, “Can’t say right now.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” He looked over at you, “No child of mine skips school, what’s going on?”

Before she came up with anything you started standing up grabbing your back, “I’m sorry sir, it was my fault, I pulled her out of the school and suggested we skip.”

“Y/N.”

“Why?”

Making your way to the door you tried to squeeze past him, but his hand shot out blocking you, “No reason sir, please ju-”

“We should just tell him, he will help yo-”

“Don’t Kieran.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing!” Pushing his hand down, you bolted out and started making your way home. Going to your room you charged your phone and saw every notification start to pop up, messages from anyone and everyone from school laughing at the video and calling you. Silencing it you laid in your bed crying, shortly, your mom came home screaming at you as she climbed the stairs.

“What in the hell did you fucking do?!” As she slammed your door open, the hatred in her eyes burned into you, “My boss just called me and told me you whored yourself at some fucking party? What fucking party did you go to?!”

“What? How-” Keiran told him, you snapped your mouth shut, you couldn’t believe she told him. You knew she was trying to look out for you, but damnit if you weren’t made at her for saying anything.

“Answer me! Don’t you dare play dumb; there’s video evidence of you screwing someone? Have you lost your damn mind?! Everything I fucking do, and this is how you repay me?!” You glared at her as she went on; How is this my fault? Why is she insisting it’s my fault?

“I didn’t do ANYTHING on purpose! They forced me and recorded me!” She glared at you before turning on her heel leaving slamming the door behind herself. You sighed walking to the door locking it before grabbing your phone and computer, pulling skype up you called Dominic. While the ringing was going you opened your bank app, checking what you had before opening a new tab on your computer for flights.

“Y/N, wha-”

“Ye remember a while ago when ye suggested I move out that way to just run away?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you skeptically, “Are ye-”

“I’m buying a ticket as we speak, I will be there in two days.”

“Woah, lass, whas go-”

“Please, Dom, jus... tell me now if I can’t stay with ye till I find my dad so I can figure something else out for hiding.”

“Of course, ye can stay with me, but lass, what the hell happened?”

Booking the flight ticket you took a deep breath, trying to hold the tears back, being tired of crying you didn’t want to shed anymore. You told him everything that had happened over the weekend, the party, letting your phone die and having a mental break down to the crap that happened at school, your friend telling her dad who is your mom's boss. Finally, the yelling match with your mom that just transpired. When you finished, he slammed back into his chair huffing, “Jesus Christ lass... what te fuckin hell? Firs off, yer more tan welcome here, ma and pa have been wantin to meet ya bad and when they hear bo-”

“No, please Dom. Please don’t say anything bou-”

“Lass, listen, I’m real fuckin sorry bout was happen to ye, but we gotta tell them somethin. They are goin to won-”

“Tell them, I’m coming to find my dad, which won be a lie, ye jus don need to tell them the other shit. Please Dom? PlEaSe? I’m beggin ye.”

He was quiet a moment, but he relented, “Fine, but they ask more questions, we tell them lass.”

“Fine.”

The two of you hashed out the rest of your plan, you’d stay low at home, steering clear of your mom for the next day before calling a cab to take you to the airport the following day, ignoring her and creating distance was a piece of cake, she was still irate with you and constantly trying to think up of lies to tell her boss about your ‘mistake’.

When the time came, right as soon as your mom was out the door, you grabbed your 2 bags and made a mad dash to the cab that waited out front, sliding in, you felt like everything was moving on X2 speed, the drive to the airport, getting through tsa, and waiting to board. Your heart pounded in your chest; you were finally leaving your mom, and going to look for your dad, you remembered faintly the areas he would take you and replayed every detail hoping that when you get there if you can’t find him, then at least his wife. When your phone started ringing, you slowly looked at it before staring, Kieran, she had no clue what you were doing. You had ignored her calls and texts yesterday and the previous night, you knew she would and is still worried about you. You wanted to tell her what you were doing but didn’t know any more if you could trust her not to tell her dad and then eventually report you running away. Damnit though if the guilt of her worry and self-blame didn’t eat at your conscience, sliding the answer across your screen you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Oh my god! Y/N! I’ve been trying to reach you! Listen, please, I’m so sorry for telling my dad, but he needed to know! Please understand I only told him because he would help. He said he talked to your mom, but she called the cops to file a report.” The momentary silence lasted long enough for you to sigh, “H-how was it making the report? Did they say what they would do?” When you didn’t respond, you heard her sniffle, “Please, Y/N, I’m so-”

“Don worry bout me anymore Kieran. I’ll be okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jus don worry, I’m not mad at ye, well...not anymore.”

“Y/N, where are you? You turned your location off.”

You looked up at the boarding sign, “I’m goin home, I’ll see ye later okay?”

“Oh, okay...Love you.”

Swallowing, you grabbed your bags walking to the podium, “Bye Kieran.” You hung up quickly before turning your phone off and wrapping it in napkins and tossing it in a can passing by.

Landing in Edinburgh Airport you hailed a cab and gave them Dominic’s address, you’d sent him money to buy you a new phone, so he knew the time window of when to expect you. Pulling up to a beautiful house I handed the driver some cash and started making your way to the front door. When it opened you smiled, Dom, in person quickly ran to you hugging and picking you up, “Jeez Dom, don’t break yer back.” You laughed, but when he set you down, a hard look on his face made you shut up.

“Don be sayin no mean shit bout my best frien. I ain fraid to smack some sense into ye.”

“An I an fraid to smack some sense into ye if you lay one hand on her.” You both turned to see his mom at the doorway with his father.

A sheepish smile made its way onto his face, “I was only messin ma, promise.”

“Hmhm” She hummed smiling walking down the path before smiling at you and wrapping her arms around you. “It’s so nice to finally meet ye hun.”

“Oh, uh, thank ye fer lettin me stay here till I find my dad and mom.” You smiled back looking between her and her husband.

“Come in dear.” He said grabbing your bags smiling, you all walked in, they lead you to the main room and sat you on the couch. While his mom got drinks for everyone you looked around, “When Dom said ye were comin to look fer ye father, I asked a few questions around town to see if anyone knew anything.”

You looked at him shocked, “Oh, ye didn’t have to do tha, I don want to bother ye all while I stay here.”

He shook his head, “I don mind one bit, I only wish I had some good news fer ye, with the lil I knew and Dom, not many people could really offer anything.”

“I understand, there were a few places I remember visiting and going to many times when I was younger, I was goin to visit those places and ask around, if not fer them then at least my grandparents.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll be more than happy to drive ye around and help.”

And they did, it was a couple weeks of traveling and asking friends, and old connections till you found a small scrap of information. It was a long, short given to you by one of Dom’s dad’s old cop friends, but you didn’t want to leave no stone unturned. Going just outside of Edinburgh, you went to the address that was scribbled down, it was a long dirt driveway to a beautiful 2 story house, huge with hills and fields surrounding it. On one side there were highland and belted Galloway cows, the other side of the road was cheviot sheep, your heart was pounding a mile a minute in your ribs, your limbs felt heavy as you climbed out of the car, looking around. Everything felt so...

“Can we help ye all?” That voice, your body felt like the earth was shaking, could feel every muscle trembling as you slowly turned around and ... It was like everything froze in time, tears weld in your eyes, even though it had only been 4 years, it was like you’d only just seen him yesterday.

“Dad.” You whimpered; you covered your mouth.

Looking you over, he swore he thought he was looking at a ghost, “Y/N?” Nodding your head, he took one step down the stairs before the both of you made a mad sprint for each other. The collision of you both slamming into each other, wrapping your arms around one another tightly, weeping into the others shoulder. He pulled back first, cupping your cheeks in his hands moving the hair from your face, “My god, Y/N. Yev grown so much.” You both laughed before going back into holding each other, it wasn’t until his wife came out asking what was going on till she saw you.

“Oh my god, MA, PA!” She screamed before running to you laughing and hugging you.

You looked to the door, your grandparents walked out confused, and slightly worried, but upon seeing you, God, they all had never felt so whole and complete, they all cocooned you into a bear hug. Only pulled apart to thank and welcome Dominic and his parents inviting them in.

You never told anyone the truth of why you ran away and sought them out, you didn’t even have to worry about your mom making a report, when you had left she counted it as a silent blessing that she could move and start over fresh, she never thought you went back to your father, all that matter to her was that you were gone. Your dad and mom asked as often as they could to figure out the truth, but you only insisted that you missed them and decided enough was enough, you were going to find them no matter what. You’d told them and your grandparents that you were lesbian, not expressing that you were bi, they excepted you none the less, and you were sure they would still except you even if you told them, you were bi, but you weren’t going to be dating or seeing any guys for a very long time. Yes, you knew and understood not all men were the same, but that doesn’t change the fact that at the thought of being intimate with a guy had you breaking down and having an anxiety attack.

It wasn’t for a long time till you found inner peace with yourself and what had happened to you those years ago, you just always kept to one rule when it came to guys. You were never going to get anywhere near intimate with one unless you guys were a serious thing; no one nightstands, no games, no bets, no lies.

#call of duty #task force 141 #x reader #john price #simon ghost riley #john price smut #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #captain price #141 #gaz cod #tf 141 smut

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months ago

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Season to Taste - 37/42 WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another.

PROLOGUE/1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (interlude) 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (interlude) 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 (interlude) 31 32 33 34 35 36

And have a sketch I drew this morning:

CHAPTER THIRTYSEVEN

(No more flashbacks now, we’re on the home straight…)

… … …

After ascertaining that Maverick is, in fact, alive and well, Bradley sort of wants to read him the riot act for making Ice worry so much. He doesn’t of course, but he thinks Ice maybe aged an additional decade in the time it took them to find him. It does make him realize how much he cares for Mav though, that his loves runs deeper than his anger ever has. While he might regret the years apart he can begin making more of an effort. He knows it will make Ice happy as well, and he’s glad he saved up the news of his engagement to share when he could tell them both at the same time, especially given how long he didn’t tell them about Jake at all.

They make all the right sounds, saying they want to meet him, and Bradley nods and smiles because he can’t tell them that he still hasn’t told Jake about his relationship with them both. Vi’s right, maybe she does need to be there to chaperone so at least he doesn’t get distracted simply by seeing Jake again.

Bradley is en route to Tokyo when he gets the messages from Jake. Been summoned back to North Island of all places for something he has no information about and will be going into blackout comms. His blood runs cold at that, because that’s only happened twice before, and one of those times was very early on and Jake came out of it with a medal and an air-to-air kill that he only heard about because Slider told him. He feels a little sick but knows he can’t do anything about it, remember Maria’s words about Jake being good and just has to hope.

He books his air ticket back to New York while he’s still in the air.

… … …

He’s not surprised to find Javy also in North Island, his friends are no slouches. But it makes him wonder just how many people they’ve called in. They don’t have to report in until 0800 tomorrow. They spend some time catching up before deciding to head to the Hard Deck for a drink and a game of darts. Maybe pool. Anything to keep him from sulking too much about the fact that he’s meant to be on short leave in Japan with Leo.

Then, as if thinking about Leo has conjured him, he recognizes a face. Not one he’s ever met, but one he’s seen in a couple of photos, and he needs to get closer, make sure it’s actually him.

Captain Pete Mitchell.

Maverick.

Leo’s godfather.

Jake tracks him in the bar and keeps his distance, not sure what to do. He’s kept tabs on him, out of curiosity but also because he had wanted to be prepared if he ever crossed paths. Prepared to do what he’s not sure, because yeah, he might have a bone to pick with him over his treatment of Leo, but he also doesn’t intend to piss off a man potentially in his direct chain of command. He’s not active anymore though, so it’s unlikely he’ll ever be reporting to Maverick.

In any other universe Jake knows he’d be over there introducing himself, ingratiating himself to hear the man’s stories. However, he thinks of his boyfriend, fiancé, who is loving and open and expressive and so generous. The idea of him being hurt by someone… and Jake gets it, the idea of Leo doing a job where he could die scares him shitless, but that’s his problem to deal with, not Leo’s. He’s grateful that all Leo has to deal with are hot pans and sharp knives, that the worst of his injuries are things Jake can pretend to kiss better. This man though has dealt him emotional damage which Jake doesn’t know will ever heal. Jake knows he has a protective streak a mile wide but it’s never come head-to-head with the hierarchy of the naval chain of command before. He’s not a violent person, hitting things does not come naturally to him but sometimes he wishes it did because he’s like to just plant one on his nose.

When the bell rings Jake feels a spike of smug pleasure that Mitchell has clearly pissed Penny off, because she won’t hold back. Jake had been thrown out once when he was younger, and has never made the same mistake again, will always back Penny and he studies the older man as he orders four beers on his dime. He’s older, but still very clearly recognizable from the Top Gun class photo of 1986 that Jake studied several years ago. The man that was flying when Leo’s dad died.

Of course Pete Mitchell doesn’t know who Jake is at all, so his narrow eyes and disdain probably don’t come out as anything out of the ordinary, but Javy and Phoenix are both raising eyebrows and he shakes his head, doesn’t want their questions. Goes back to beating their asses soundly at pool as more and more aviators roll in and his nerves and excitement are making him vibrate and itch in equal measure. Then the bell is ringing again and Penny is jerking her head and Jake doesn’t need to be told twice.

Throwing Maverick onto the sand outside the Hard Deck is extremely satisfying.

… … …

Of course the next morning when Captain Mitchell walks in and is touted as their instructor he winces a little, but fortunately Maverik doesn’t seem to hold a grudge against any of them. It would make Jake like him a little if he didn’t already kind of despise him. It’s fine. He can be professional. Has to be, really. Fortunately there are eleven others around to act as a buffer and he uses them effectively until they’re making their way to their jets.

“Hangman…”

Jake keeps walking, not sure if it was simply an acknowledgement of whether he’s being addressed.

“Lieutenant Seresin…”

Fuck. Definitely being addressed.

“Yes sir.”

“Do you have a problem with me Lieutenant?”

“No sir.”

“Hmm.”

“I wanted to get to know you a bit better…”

“Uh. Why sir?”

“Oh. Uh. Um.”

“See you in the air. Sir.”

… … …

“Leonardo… Bradley… cugino… ti lavorerai fino a morire.”

“I’m not. I won’t.”

He knows he’s not coping very well, unable to sleep without any communication at all with Jake, so he’s living in the restaurant almost every waking moment, drinking too much coffee and wine. The circle under his eyes dark and growing darker every day. Shit. Maybe Vi is right, maybe he is going to work himself to death.

“You need to look after yourself so you can give Jake the type of homecoming that makes me want to vomit. Okay?”

“I… I want to, okay? I just… I can’t sleep. I’m having nightmares.”

“Sleeping pills? Meditation? Baseball bat?”

He huffs a laugh at the last suggestion and lets himself slump against her.

“Maybe I should go and visit his family for the weekend. At least we’d all be in the same boat.”

“It’s your family as well. Even before you get married, they’re your family as well.”

“I… yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“I’ll book tickets. Late Friday to midday Monday sound good?”

“Yeah. Perfect. Thanks.”

… … …

He turns up at the farm at four in the morning and Maria take’s one look at him and puts him to work. He’s helped set up for the market several times now, no one is surprised to see him after years of him occasionally being around. He signs autographs through the morning, then recipe books as words gets out and poses in selfies, he weighs and sells things under Maria’s watchful eye. Then they’re packing up and while he’d usually be heading home with Jake he’s instead dragged out onto the farm to do manual labor, shown how to prune and harvest.

It’s physical work but it keeps his mind busy and the kids running around and entire family come for dinner. It reminds him of helping in the olive groves in Italy. He easily falls asleep that night; body tired from a combination of lack of sleep and now compounded by a full day of a different type of physical labor. Even though Jake isn’t there and he hasn’t spoken to him in over ten days he can smell him on the sheets of their bed, has felt his presence throughout the day with his sisters all telling stories and a visit to Jake’s parents.

When he gets on the plane back to New York he feels well rested and Vi looks happier with his appearance, telling him that he just can’t make the zombie look work.

Hopefully he can talk to Jake soon, even if he can’t see him.

THIRTY EIGHT

#Season to taste #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU

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keelt9 · 3 months ago

Text

Paper 2

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope you spend this holiday calmly and the way it makes you feel at ease.

Remember to take your time, one step at the time. ❄️

From far away I send you a big hug!🍒

The table near the small tree and the window, the messages are in his phone still he keeps mumbling all his way until the restaurant.

Why the hell is even sweating this much?

The restaurant is a little bit crowded with people having breakfast but his eyes fly right away to the table near to the plant and the window.

His heart drops seeing in the table a man thanking the waitress, who just left a cup of coffee. One more time the endless questions flow through his mind.

Who is he? Is the table correct? Daniel was right and it’s fake after all? Did she get married?

The man lifts his eye in time to smile at Max and wave his hand, insecure Max walks to the table gripping his phone tight, in his head the worst possible scenario is developing so fast.

The man will introduce him to his little elf fiance, probably they are already planning on having a family, living in a nice house in the town, they could even have a pet.

Is she still the same little elf of years ago?

“Oh, please, don’t put that face on Max.” The man shook his hand. “I’m not her boyfriend or husband.”

Max sighs, but still feels tension over his shoulders.

“Sorry, sorry, diaper issue.” Max recognizes the girl, is the one his little elf is hugging, her sister; carrying a baby girl in her arms. “Omg, are you ok? You’re pale as a ghost.”

Max feels like he just saw one.

“Yes, I… I'm just…surprised.” The woman smiles tenderly following Max's eyes to the baby she had in her arms.

“Oh, please, don’t be scared.” She extends her hand with a soft smile on her face. “I’m Isabell… your little efl sister.” Max grabs her hand. “My husband Gonzalo and this baby girl is my daughter, Noah.”

“She is so beautiful, just like her.” Max's eyes stuck to the baby, his pinky cheek and shiny eyes.

Isabell smiles tenderly at her baby and caresses her face. “My mom said I shouldn’t be disturbed that much to my sister or my baby will be so similar to her.”

Max giggles observing Noah hide her face in her mother's shoulder. “She forgot to mention, I’ll give birth to her twin.”

Max laughs, feeling lighter and relaxed. “Why don’t we sit?” Gonzalo mentions carrying their baby so they can sit.

“I’m sorry if I make things in such a weird way, but I’m afraid I won't find another idea in my mind.” Isabell mentioned. “Listen Max, let’s be honest, my sister knows who you are.”

Max shallow, and call for a waitress, is too early for a drink? With this situation, he doesn’t think so.

“She found out about you, the first year you were in Red bull, when she saw your face on the screen I believe she could faint in any seconds.” She smirks softly. “From that moment on, every time she knew a race would take place, she barely moved from the T.V.”

Gonzalo laughs probably remembering those moments. “Every clothing item you release, she will have it by the end of the month. She never said but she became your fan no.1.”

Noah looks with all her attention to him making him make a funny face putting a smile on her little face.

“When you have that accident on the track, she really anguishes, until you appear to be dizzy but safe.” Max quivers for a second but he needs to ask.

“She never contacted me.” Those words closed his throat. “If she…”

“Max both of you move on, or at least she's been trying.” Max notices the unease expression in Isabell’s face. “She refused to come back to Benasque, she is acknowledging about the radical new world you're living, that she's felt doesn't belong there, but also she refuses to move one, you know what I mean?”

Max shakes his head, this time Gonzalo speaks. “Max isn't a secret she stops considering you just as a best friend, you can tell by the way she speaks about you.”

Noah giggles as she tries to grab Max's hand. “But she met a guy a couple of years ago, he's an enchanting person with her, and even he confessed his feelings a couple of months ago…”

“No.” It was an involuntary response, Max felt his heart squeeze.

“She refused to give him a chance until I spoke with her.” Isabell bits her lips. “Reason why she went one more time to Benasque.”

Suddenly the sunny day of Barcelona feels cold making him shiver.

“In a way to say goodbye.” Max moves in his chair, he feels nauseous.

“However you started to search for her, she doesn't know because after Christmas she stops looking at your accounts, she cleans all that resembles you.”

“Then…the..then how do you know?” He shutters and blesses God in that moment his drink came.

“I worked for a sports magazine, you make a big show of this, it's just a simple deduction, you are looking for my sister in law.” Gonzalo giggles. “You Max Verstappen looking for someone I see every weekend is something weird.”

Isabell gives her baby’s bottle to Noah. “Maybe I sound like a crazy protective sister but Max, I love my sister, and I want the best for her, that is why I'm telling you all this… I'm sorry but if you are only looking for my sister just for bringing back a friendship, trust me she will always consider you like her most treasured friend.”

Max opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but he's just empty. “The best for her is you keep going in separate ways, because having you in her life, I'm afraid she will be stuck one more time.”

Gonzalo perceived the conflict expression in his face and the fact his drink disappeared. “Don't worry Max, she's fine, healthy, making her dreams true, don't have to worry about her.”

Noah laughs seeing the faces her mother makes to her, this would be the last time to hear the closest sound of her laugh?

“What if I see her in the same way she saw me?” Isabell shakes her head.”What if I…”

“Max! You don't have to do this.” Max feels hopeless every second. “I didn't come here for an answer, I came to assure you she's fine, for you can be at ease.”

“No, no, no, I, me…I… I'm confused, sorry, it's just…” Max breaths slowly. “Every year, I travel with a backpack full of notebooks with importants things that happened to me to tell her, every special moment and the most random ones are noted there.”

Noah grabs his finger across the table. “I miss her like hell.” He carefully covers Noah’s ears. “Fuck, I been stupid.”

The big eyes of the baby girl and the smile make him speak. “There must be a reason, right?”

Isabell sees Gonzalo with conflicted eyes.

Max gets down his head. “Maybe I already know but I'm… what if I say something wrong?”

“Ok, let's do this.” Isabell leans over the table. “I won't rush anything, take your time, thinking about it carefully, when you are ready, give me a call, we can find out what to do after that.”

Max sees his empty drink taking a few breaths, what if that time is enough for her to finally leave him in the oblivion?

“Max, believe me, we have plenty of time.” It must be a thing between sisters, they look like they could actually read his mind. “She likes to take her time for important decisions.”

Max nods, unable to say another word, feeling so overwhelmed but happy and relieved. Isabell observes him unable to stop a soft smile.

“Well, it’s time to go.” She and her husband stand with their baby in his arms. “You have my number Max, call anytime when you have it all clear.”

Max stands, seeing the photo. “Do you mind if I keep with this one?”

Isabell shakes her head. “All yours.” Noah mumbled, extending her little arms to Max. “You have a special charm Max, now I see it.”

Max grabs her little hand, shaking it, feeling shy for the compliment; the red cheeks with the top of the nose too, bring him soft memories and the concern that now, he has a lot to think about.

The summer break turns into agony, the past months he has been able to focus on the race leaving him zero time to think properly, he refuses to take a decision with the fuss of emotions of a race.

“So?” Daniel asked, sitting next to him cleaning the sweat of his forehead after a tough padel game. “You decided already?”

Max sits on the floor drinking a half of the water of his bottle. It’s the second week of the summer break and every time he tries to dig into the decision, he has a migraine after 15 minutes of thinking.

His lack of answer made Daniel sigh. “Mate if it’s that hard, it could be a sign that maybe you see her as what it is?”

“I don’t follow you.” Max leaned his arms over his knees.

“A dear friend of the past.” Daniel said, raising his hand waving it, Charles is walking right to them. “Just think about it with that perspective in mind.”

He can’t, Max simply can’t.

The next morning he postone all his meetings with friends and family, as he is making a small travel bag.

“It's summer?” Victoria mentions as they keep talking through the phone. “What do you expect to find there?”

Max didn’t even know but if there is a place where he always finds peace is in Benasque.

“Nothing, just a space to think.” Max sees Jimmy stretching on the window. “It will be a couple of days, don’t worry.”

“Max.” Max takes his bag standing in front of one of the trophies, next to it the photo of his little elf puts a smile on his face. “Take care, ok?”

The next morning he spent time walking around after having breakfast in the small hotel, his mind seemed to clear in every step.

“Look what the wind brings.” The old men from the clockmaker's workshop cross in his path. “Young boy, it’s early for you to come.”

Max nods seeing him carrying bags. “Do you need an extra hand?”

“Thank you.” He gives him two bags, as they walk to his store, talking about his life, 20 years have passed and Max feels he just met the old men who see every year.

He opened the door next to the shop, his house. “Want to come in? I have a nice limoned on the fridge.”

Max quiver for a second. “Or I have a tiramisu.” Max raises his eyes quickly. “The cute little girl mentioned it is… sorry probably it was your favorite.”

She remembers, that’s enough for Max to take a step inside of the house.

All in brown colors, a lot of photos hanging on every wall as he walks to the living room, where the old man asks him to wait a couple of seconds.

He takes his time observing every photo, until his eyes find one that calls for his attention; it’s the Roman coliseum covered in snow.

He takes it as a memory that comes back to his mind.

“It’s almost impossible.” Max buttons the last ones from the neck part of her cape.

The little girl rolled her eyes. “It has already passed! Why can't it happen again?” She stands taking the snow off her lap.

The night reached them and the cold is increasing, tomorrow Max must leave.

“You’re talking about snow in Rome!” She grabs his hands between her warming up before leaving.

“Oh my God! You’re so pessimistic sometimes.” She rubs his hands, the gloves help to warm it quickly. “Ok, let’s say if it happens one more time, I swear, I’ll be there.”

Max scoffs rolling his eyes.

“Believe me, Mr. Frozen hands. I’ll make it.” She winks at him.

The old man finds Max with the photo in his hands; Max hears him unable to stop looking at the girl, well, the back of the girl.

“She made it.” His voice cracks unintentionally.

The man set the two plates on the small table. “Oh, indeed, she came back that winter with two photos, this is for me and the other one I guess it was for you…”

Max never came that winter.

“Fuck! How much I would love to be with her.” The man tilted his head. “She must look adorable.”

“I always knew, young boy.” The old man sat on his big sofa. “It’s true love what I saw in you two.”

“What?” Max turned around, unable to take his eyes from the photo.

“She said the same.” He takes a bite of the tiramisu. “She would love having you with her that day. After all she has something to reproach after all.”

That afternoon in front of the old clock downtown, the beeps of the phone seemed to last like an hour between each one.

“Hello?” Max sighs, relieved, sitting on the closet bench.

“I love her.” Max whispers feeling the weight of his shoulders lifts. “That’s what I feel and I couldn’t say.”

Isabell didn’t reply. “I love your sister…Please help me, don’t let her forget me.” Max panic fearing the worst. “I know it can sound stupid, we barely know each other, it has been 10 years, I changed, probably she did too. You may think I’m doing this in such a dumb way to keep myself in her life, but….”

Max takes a deep breath. “I have been carrying a pen with a couple of notebooks for 10 years, more than one time I write about the fact I got stung by a bee! Omg, what a stupid man who isn’t in love does that? I’m frighten with the simple thought of losing her forever”

“Do you want to hear her?” Max held his breath. “We can coordinate things later, but we’re in the middle of a familiar reunion, you know? It will be so weird.”

Max let go a breath that sounds like he’s had a hurricane inside.

“Can I?” Isabell giggles with the fact that Max Verstappen is nervous.

“After you hear her I’ll hang out and I’ll call you later to coordinate something, ok?” Max stands excited walking around the bench, waiting.

The sound of chattering and plates with laughs became slowly more audible, Max saw his hands, he’s trembling.

“What are you doing?” Isabell asked. Damn it! Max is technically invisible and he feels so exposed every second.

Then the soft giggle drains the blood of his body. “Making a mojito, duh!”

She is there, she’s fucking there!

“See, ron, lemon, ice, mint and other things that dad said I will need.” Max imagines her in a beautiful summer dress. “Everything alright?”

“Well, I bet right now, yes, everything seems perfect.” Isabell sees her phone, Max is online.

“Great, now, stop staring at me and give me a hand. I’m confused.” Isabell laughs while hanging out.

Max looks at his phone with a smile that he’s sure will cause painful cheeks.

As he walks to his hotel, this time to write his brainstorm of ideas for meeting her one more time, he finds in one of the window displays a ornament for Christmas of a Santa Claus.

He stops in front of me with a smirk. “Give me a hand big guy, I swear that if you need it, I’ll be a good boy all these years. Just help me a little bit.”

He was caught by the reflection of a boy with a lollipop in his mouth looking at him with a weird face.

He takes out his lollipop. “He doesn't understand.” Max narrowed his eyes. “You must send him a letter to the north pole with what you want.”

Max giggles. “Besides, it's advice.” The kid is so confident. “Make sure to write in a pretty paper, with a pretty letter, make sure he fully understands what you want.”

“Louis!” A woman shouted a name, making the kid turn around.

He nods. “I have to go, good luck!”

Max chuckles and screams as the kid goes with his mother. “THANKS FOR THE ADVICE!”

He focuses one more time on Santa, “Let’s make my wish come true.”

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

Tag: @anilovessadbooks

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine #christmas writing #happy holidays #merry christmas

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revalition · 5 months ago

Text

OCT 19 - SHIVERS Raise the hair on your neck. Tune in to the city.

shivers my beloved!!! I love her so much!

Here is my favourite shivers quote since I didn't include it in the image this time:

SHIVERS - FOR THREE HUNDRED YEARS I HAVE BEEN HERE. VOLATILE AND LUMINOUS. MADE OF SODIUM AND RAIN.

weeps... <333 not only is it such a gorgeous quote but it was also my first time hearing from la revacholiere... You need shivers of 5 to get it but luckily my first playthrough I had FYS of 4 and I got the patrol cloak the first day so I guess that's 5.. so when I was messing with the electronic doorbell on the first day and eventually got this line!!!!! I had NO IDEA what was happening but I was immediately fascinated by this skill.

also if Kim isn't with you, you can ask yourself what just happened and not a soul answers. your skills *never* just leave you in silence like that...

afterwards she also says:

SHIVERS - IF YOU WANT ME YOU CAN FIND ME ON THE BEACH, DANS LE DERNIER BAL.

which, like. what does that mean. the last ball? the last dance maybe? and then when you do the shivers check in the church there's a modifier that just says "+2 FIND ME ON THE BEACH"

anyway... no it's not oct 19 but that's the naming convention I set when I started so that's how it's going to stay. tbh I had no idea what to do with shivers which is why this isn't anything like my other skilltober posts but hopefully it still does her justice

lots of quotes under the cut as always

what's this? actual screenshots from the game??

this scene was just. so amazing. the worst part is how easy it is to miss! if your inland empire is too low you don't get the dialogue that lets you even try the shivers check (found that out the hard way in my second playthrough >:( and you only need 2 IE to get it) and then the shivers check is quite difficult too... the two people I know who played it, neither got to talk to the city! but that also made it feel very special

I remember screenshotting my game when I got this dialogue so I could go look for it! and then finding the body on the boardwalk and looking all around there and going ah, guess I can't get under the boardwalk and it was just flavour text. and forgetting about it.

and then finding it down there!!! it's my favourite I wore it the rest of the playthrough. also the modifier on it!! +1 Shivers: Gift from La Revacholiere 😭 shivers... shivers ily...

shivers memories of your mom?

she's so helpful

this one kills me every time I read it

also I've been angry with shivers about the humiliation of the shivers fail in front of neha the dicemaker where you take your pants of... and I went to grab a screenshot and it... was Harry all along? all shivers says is that you don't feel anything and it's a bit too warm, and Harry does the rest... sigh. of course he does.

this is a dialogue you can get after talking to Plaisance about the curse after you investigated the doomed commercial area... I know you can come to the conclusion that the curse of the doomed commercial area is caused by being so close to the pale, but that fact that Shivers can pick it up so early on...

I love when she humours you...

this damages your endurance! shivers scolding you can make you *die*

this one damages endurance too... but inland recognizing that shivers isn't one of your skills...!!!

there are a bunch of these (unsure if they're implemented in the game or not, I've never encountered them at least) of your patrol cloak talking to you through shivers!

Kim trying to convince you not to leave in the airship is heart-wrenching on its own, but La Revacholiere begging you not to forsake her...? sobs

this one has to be in here... the three skill checks are godly difficulty. urgh it hurts my heart

the miracle!! she protects the phasmid too, watches over it. observes it skating across the water, opening the buoy to retrieve the passport...

my two supranatural skills bringing you to the precinct! this dialogue has their names, even (usually EdC just relays it to you)

harry and the city are inseparable...

this one hurts me. the church sidequest is my favourite in the game, but there's always this underlying sadness to it that things cannot exist in that church...

fuck...

shivers is so poetic... In my first playthrough, all of their information on the surrounding area was overwhelming. And I didn't have high enough shivers my second playthrough to get the dialogue... but looking through it again now, it makes so much more sense after playing once.

Revachol forever.

this brings me great comfort... the city with pocket it for you. and you can finally move forward.

I don't know what this means... but I wish my city loved me the way revachol loves harry. you also need to pass a godly logic passive to deduce that the world is the thought reader...

that's only 27 screenshots but I don't have any others to add right now... so here is shivers from the spring storm WIP since I havent shared one of these in a bit

dont mind empathy and pain thresh photo bombing it...

and here is my personal shivers skill portrait, which conceptualization drew...

i'm not sure if it's weird to add this but screenshot from our shared discord, but it's kind of cool. they're often silly or rude to eachother but they have their moments. re: shivers suggesting moving to toronto (there is a bit more before this that I was contributing to).

I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard from my shivers... the first time was actually *in* toronto when I was there for a concert. the way Harry loves his city isn't the way I love my city, but it does make me wonder if I could feel that way about somewhere else...

anyway weird note to end this post on but. that's okay. half light next... hopefully tomorrow

#skilltober #de shivers #de skills #disco elysium skills #disco elysium #rev art

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alacants · 2 months ago

Note

Have you seen the rumors Carlos and JCF are splitting up

literally just saw this - i feel like this is a pretty standard kinda rumor to come out of an ""early"" loss so no idea how credible it is. early heavily scare quoted for reasons below.

also saw a rumor that alcaraz sr. is the one who wants the split which, IF true, would make sense—if you're looking at this from his pov, your kid is an adult who doesn't need hand-holding any more and now it's time to think about the direction of his future. (this is kind of what i was getting at with that one ask reply a while ago, about what would happen if carlos hit a sustained slump—that there's a lot more factors in play, and a lot more riding on his career, than just his own personal feelings.) plus, like, with zero disrespect to either juanki or alcaraz sr. intended, it's unlikely that they have always agreed 100% because humans don't usually do that, and this is the type of situation where you suddenly start remembering all those times you didn't. even if they weren't actually that significant.

but i've said before that i don't see a split happening unless carlos hits a major slump and this isn't a major slump. it's just not lol.

i'm a lot more sanguine about AO results than many tennis fans (not necessarily on tumblr) seem to be. i don't really think carlos going out in QFs to novak djokovic on a fast hard court is that shocking. and i think that 1) talking up the career slam and 2) the relative ease of his early round matches set unrealistic expectations.

novak got in carlos' head for sure (favorite quote about this: "limped one-legged into his brain and scrambled it from the inside") but he's been getting into the heads of older, better, more experienced players for the last 20 years. he did this to roger fucking federer all the time! and somehow a 21-year-old with a middling record of mental/emotional control is supposed to already have the answers? if anything i thought carlos did much better managing his mentality than he would have in the same situation, say, last summer. he wasn't playing the best game—he was pretty lost tactically—but he wasn't losing control of himself, either. that "i want to smash my racket but i'm not gonna" moment was the worst of it. he was still hanging in there and working to get his play back on track. it was just too late by the time he did.

like yeah man i think carlos DOES need to beef up his team tactically. juanki's strength is clearly like... coaching the player as a whole person. less solving complex tactical problems on court. but my read on carlos is that he still needs that element in his support system and i have a hard time believing someone else would be any more effective handling the mentality piece.

lots of words about what will probably turn out to be another rumor generated by some fans' wishful thinking lmao. but tl;dr new coach talk is premature and tbh carlos could quote-unquote underperform at roland garros and i would still not be inclined to read too much into it. if he doesn't do well at wimbledon? then we'll talk.

#whoops guess this is also my qf analysis #but srsly the way so many people had carlos as the overwhelming favorite really surprised me #like putting the evil yaoi aside for a minute. i spent years of my life rooting against the other guy and got NOWHERE with it.#did we all just... collectively forget the entirety of the 2010s #i figured carlos had the edge bc of physicality and the injury seemed to bear that out at first #but if anyone could figure out how to account for that. well. lmao.#novak will stop being a danger once his body completely fails him and not before. it's the hard truth.#ask #carlos alcaraz #juan carlos ferrero #novak djokovic #ao25 #meta

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eyesofshinigami · 1 year ago

Text

Chaos Goblin

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, language, humor, very slight mention of vomit

Prompt: For anon "Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time"

WC: 808

Written for Day 27 of @steddielovemonth

“I can’t believe you’re letting them do this.”

It wasn’t Steve’s idea to let Eddie and the kids have a pie-eating contest in his backyard, but it sure was something he was letting happen. A year of dating Eddie had taught him that his boyfriend was an unstoppable force of personality, and sometimes that meant letting him do really, really dumb shit sometimes. He couldn’t even remember what argument had sparked this idea, but he knew better than to try and fight it. Sometimes you just have to learn to let things happen.

Nancy, sitting on the other side of Robin, just shrugged. “I guess at least they’re outside? I’m still not sure how Eddie convinced you to bake that many pies for him.”

Steve cleared his throat. “I mean, I could tell you, but-”

“Oh god, seriously? You two are the worst!” Robin moaned, shoving Steve in the shoulder.

He just shrugged. He was going to tell her that Eddie had offered to do dishes for the next month, but hinting at the epic sex marathon that also happened that night was enough to make him smile. “Nancy started it.”

“You don’t have to finish it,” Robin muttered under her breath, earning herself a tug on her hair from Nancy. “Anyway, pie-seducing aside, I can’t wait to watch when this goes sideways.”

“We have a hose, it’ll be fine.” And frankly, this didn’t even warrant a score on the grand scale of stupid shit Eddie and the kids had talked Steve into. He couldn’t help it that his boyfriend and their pack of feral children were very convincing, and also a little bit stupid.

Like the time Dustin nearly blew the top off Eddie’s van when he accidentally set off the prototype for New Years Eve the two of them had concocted. Or when Eddie had given himself food poisoning by making some kind of science experiment sandwich with expired deli meat when he was high one night. Or when he nearly broke his arm trying to shoot a basketball and skateboard at the same time to settle an argument for Lucas and Max. Or-

Well. Anyway, Steve had learned pretty early on in their relationship to expect the unexpected, and to always have a first aid kit handy.

“All right, you squirts, now it’s time to show you that I am the Master at Pie-Eating!” Eddie called out, sending a dirty wink in Steve’s direction.

Max called back, “That metaphor doesn’t even make sense!”

Dustin and Mike both squinted at him from their spots at the folding tables they’d borrowed from the Byers’. Will, smart kid that he was, was sitting on the sidelines with the stopwatch, having declared himself the judge. Sensible, really. “You’re going down, Munson. You too, Wheeler,” Dustin said, rolling his shoulders back like he’s about to try for a Grand Slam in the seventh-inning stretch.

“Fuck you, Dustin. You don’t even have any teeth, how are you going to chew?” Mike goaded, earning himself an offended squawk from Dustin.

Will rolled his eyes at all three of them. “Are you guys ready? On my count, 1…2…3!”

And they were off. It was truly a sight to behold; one grown man and two nearly grown teenagers scarfing down Steve’s homemade blackberry pies like they would never eat again. Lucas, Max, and El were cheering them on from the sidelines, also smart enough to not get involved in these kinds of shenanigans.

Eddie finished first, holding the pie pan up and licking it clean before he dropped it on the table. He had blackberry smeared from his forehead to his jawline, matted in his hair, and staining the shirt he’d clearly stolen from Steve. Will called out the time, less than thirty seconds, and the other two started grousing about losing. “Ha! I told you! Eat shit, you little boogers!”

His boyfriend was an absolute mess, looked completely ridiculous, and Steve wasn’t sure he'd ever loved him more. Eddie was a chaos goblin on a good day, but Steve wouldn’t have him any other way. Especially not when he bounded over to Steve like an overeager puppy, eyes shining and dripping with what remained of Steve’s immaculate pie. “Had fun?” he teased, swiping a bit of blackberry off Eddie’s chin and popping it in his own mouth.

“Absolutely. It’ll be worth the stomachache I can already feel coming on,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ginger ale and a warm blanket waiting for you.” Steve pulled Eddie in for a kiss, enjoying the taste of blackberries.

He lost himself in it, ignoring the pitiful sounds of Dustin and Mike groaning about being too-full, or the screech Robin let out when Mike almost puked on her shoes.

Eddie was a whirlwind of chaos, and Steve wouldn’t have him any other way.

#steddie #steddielovemonth #les writes things

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ryin-silverfish · 4 days ago

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A Short Analysis of FSYY's View of Fate

…This picture basically sums up a lot of the in-story explanation for "Why a plot thing happens".

Understandably, most modern readers tend to call it bullshit, and suggest that it's nothing but a self-serving lie used to justify Ancient China's Bloodiest Bureaucracy Recruitment Program.

When it comes to adaptations, I, too, feel like it's a case of "Just because it made sense to the writers back then and they believed in this stuff, doesn't mean you, as a modern reader or adaptation maker, have to buy into the same ideas."

However, there aren't a lot of writings on the "Whys" behind the ubiquity of Fate Says So. As such, I'd like to offer my own amateur explanation.

Basically, it's because the novel's two conflicting themes and the author-compiler being really insecure about them.

Mencius

See, FSYY's view on rebellion is very much in line with Mencius, who suggested that if your ruler treated his lieges and subjects like shit, you, as a liege, were perfectly justified to respond in kind.

He also famously said in his own work, Mengzi, that "I only know King Wu's slaying of Zhou the Tyrant, not a vassal's murder of his lord."

Or, to heavily rephrase and simplify it:

"I only know the death of a tyrant, not the murder of a king."

Well, Zhu Yuanzhang, Ming dynasty's founding emperor, really didn't like these parts of Mengzi.

It was said that he tried to take away Mencius's officially sanctioned sacrifice, and he was behind the creation of a heavily censored version of Mengzi called 孟子节文, minus all the "rebellious sentiments", that were used as textbook for 17 years.

It didn't suceed at taking Mencius out of circulation, but combined with the elevation of Zhu Xi by the state, there is a turn towards conservatism and strengthening of imperial legitimacy in early Ming Neo-Confucianism.

Fate

By the late Ming times, there is a notable relaxation in the strength of the ol' Confucian orthodoxy. That doesn't mean its influence on cultural norms weren't still significant, though.

And FSYY, being a typical Ming work, also loves to get on the Neo-Confucian soapbox from time to time.

Which was not too uncommon for vernacular novels written by literati, who saw novels as another opportunity to moralize and educate the uncouth masses.

Like, even friggin' erotic novels like to defend themselves with "I'm writing all the explicit sex scenes to show you the detrimental effect of lust and how everyone involved get their karmic justice, not because it's hot!"

Which naturally poses a dilemma: How can you subscribe to Mencius's view on justified rebellion, while also being 100% sincere about your Neo-Confucian morality tracts where rebelling against your ruler is a no-no?

Apparently, FSYY's answer is 1) Fate Says So, and 2) Being really insistent that They Are Only Rebelling Because King Zhou Is the Worst, It Should Be Your Last Resort, Do Not Try This At Home.

Because Fate is connected to the Mandate of Heaven (a word I don't like to use, because I feel like non-Chinese audiences have some strange ideas about what it means), it essentially functions as a higher authority that can override standard Neo-Confucian morality.

"Normally, you aren't supposed to rebel against your lord, but Fate Says You Can because this ain't normal times."

And the idea of Fate is still based on that very morality, because human affairs and Heavenly Order are intricately connected.

A ruler gains the throne by being the exemplar of a set of moral virtues and guiding his subjects towards those virtues, and when people, especially rulers, Do Bad Things, it will create ripples in the natural world in the form of disasters, birth of mutated animals, yaoguai sightings, and unusual celestial phenomena.

Like, Heaven doesn't exactly pick a ruler and forms a personal connection with said ruler and his lineage.

It's more of a "If you Do X, Y will happen" scenario, where X is Immorality and Bad Statecraft and Y is Disasters, Rebellions, and Weird Shit (that may lead to the ruler's deposition and dynastic transistion).

And on the folk level, people might not know that much about the Mandate in the classical literature sense, but they did take Fate seriously, whether in the form of divination and taboos, or belief in karmic retribution.

Like, if you already believed that the time of your birth could determine your personality and future, that doing good stuff would beget you good things in this life and the next, and bad shit happening to good people was the result of karmic debts from past lives carrying over?

"Fate Says So" might be far less outlandish to you than it would be to a modern audience. And even then, one could interpret it in ways that subverted social order instead of reinforcing it.

You can see this in IRL sectarian cult rebellions, where they often portrayed their leaders as incarnations of celestial deities and appealed to the same "Fate/Mandate Override" rhetorics to legitimize themselves.

Back to FSYY

Which may be why, even while using the Fate Says So argument, the author-compiler is still afraid of coming off across as "Rebelling against the emperor is okay, actually!"

Well, the intended message is closer to "Rebelling against the emperor is okay only if 1) Fate Says So, and 2) the emperor is the Worst of the Worst, and even if the loyalty is misguided, it is still good and commendable."

(Technically, this is pretty close to Mencius's thought too: he's also of the opinion that you can only overthrow your ruler if he's a piece of shit who's dangerously bad at his job, and it shouldn't be a regular solution.)

Which is why you see Shang officials being loyal to King Zhou and hoping he'd see reason even after multiple gruesome executions, and Novel King Wen & King Wu being giant pushovers.

If King Zhou needs to be the Worst Guy Ever in order to justify rebellion, then the ones leading the rebellion also need to be the perfect Sage Kings and Neo-Confucian morality paragons who'd never rebel against their king out of their own volition.

"We would never rebel against our lord, honest, we just wanna knock on the palace doors politely and make him see reason with a long, boring speech, I don't know why JZY and the other vassals interpreted it as 'Topple the Shang and Make the Zhou lineage the new emperor'!"

Which is extremely annoying, even when you kinda get why the author-compiler is doing it.

Final Thoughts

I feel like FSYY is less of a morality tract when you compare it to other obscure Ming Shenmo novels that actually are morality tracts wearing a fake mustache.

In fact, its alignment with Mencius's view on rebellion, as well as the usage of Fate as a Deus Ex Machina override to conventional values like filial piety or loyalty, arguably makes it less stringently Neo-Confucian.

But the author-compiler's attempt to justify the rebellion with repetitive in-story speeches and stress that They Want to Be Loyal/Filial, Actually, They Just Have No Other Choices...does make parts of the book quite a chore to modern readers.

I do feel like you can take Fate seriously in a FSYY adaptation, both as an actual cosmological force and something characters genuinely believe in, and still create an engaging story.

Maybe look into the historical Shang-Zhou transistion's effect on the view of Heaven, and the early accounts of the fall of Shang that weren't as Confucianized, and make it an actual epic war story with the characterization and worldbuilding that are missing from the Ming novel.

Or, better, take "Fate Says So" to its most ridiculous extremes and make it funny.

(Because gosh, the novel takes itself too seriously at times, and not in a fun way.)

#investiture of the gods #fengshen yanyi #chinese literature #chinese culture #analysis #FSYY novel is my problematic fav and I enjoy roasting the parts where the writing falls short as much as I enjoy the cool parts #it's the Shenmo novel equivalent of “I Can Fix Him/I Can Make Him Worse”#no I will not elaborate further

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sing-me-under · 6 months ago

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Thinking about a fic idea from Dick’s POV about Jason taking his place at Bruce’s side except this is completely based on my own amalgamation of canon.

It starts when Dick returns to Gotham post-Deathstroke hoping for some comfort and safety away from heroism for a bit and childhood familiarity with Bruce only to find out that not only did Batman have absolutely no clue Robin was kidnapped and assumed dead, Bruce had even taken in another kid with black hair and blue eyes. He’s only had Jason for like two months apparently, and they’re already making plans for adoption.

Probably the worst part about this whole thing is that Bruce didn’t even think about Dick, the kid he’d had for almost nine years at this point, at all. (Dick doesn’t acknowledge Bruce’s all-consuming fear for Dick’s safety in the entire almost nine years they known each other. He doesn’t think about how Bruce’s overbearing, over controlling tendencies was Bruce caring too much. It must have eaten at him, not knowing how Dick was. Jason will remember Bruce’s ever present concern for the Golden Child.)

Dick can’t bring himself to resent either of them. He was the one who destroyed all of Batman’s surveillance, yelled at Bruce for trying to keep an eye on him, then didn’t even check in to let Bruce know he was anything other than dead or alive. Of course Bruce wouldn’t know anything that wasn’t always public knowledge. The kid also idolizes Robin, and Dick wouldn’t begrudge a kid out of a safe and loving home just because it was his first.

Dick doesn’t even try. He just goes straight to Alfred then leaves later that evening with a tin of cookies for the Teen Titans.

Some months later, Dick sees a Gotham Gazette article about “Robin spotted in Gotham!” with a super blurry smear of yellow, red, and green chasing after another blurry smear that kind of looks like Batman. Dick storms back to Wayne Manor, intending to bury the fuck out of Batman for letting his shiny new son use his name, only to find out that no, actually, the truth is a little more complicated than just that. Apparently, Batman got injured or whatever, and while he was on bed rest, some knock-off Batman was running around Gotham. Jason more or less grabbed a shitty Robin Halloween costume from some costume store (because of course there would be shitty Halloween costumes of irl heroes) and chased down the fake Batman. (I am so obsessed with pre-crisis Nocturna but I’ll hold myself back here)

Afterwards, Bruce begrudgingly agreed to accept Jason as a vigilante since this was like the third time Jason had stopped a crime all on his own (the first time being Ma Gunn’s crime school) and Bruce would really prefer Jason do crime fighting from the safety of Batman’s cape. By the time Dick saw the article and made his way to Gotham, Jason was still trying to design his own vigilante uniform and come up with names (his ideas are terrible). Dick is honestly so tired of being angry that he just sighs and goes “you know what, I want to cut all ties with Batman. It’s not like he wants anything to do with me either. Jason, do you want to be Robin?”

Dick becomes Nightwing, a kryptonian legend. Aside from the OG Titans and some of the founding JL members, Nightwing has no connections to Gotham and especially not to Robin.

Sometimes, Dick Grayson visits Alfred and goes back to Titans Tower with a bag of homemade food. Sometimes, he brings some soulless souvenir as a late/early birthday/holiday present for Jason. He avoids Bruce each time.

When Jason died, Dick was on a mission in space. He missed the funeral by a whole month. When he found out, he and Bruce scream at each other about shit knows what. Something about how he deserves to know when a kid dies in his suit with his name. Something about how Dick didn’t even care about Jason. Something about how it all was Bruce’s fault. Neither of them remember the words exchanged, but it ended with Bruce slapping Dick and the menacing silence that followed.

Things don’t get better. Tim appears, pulling Dick back to Gotham and saying “Batman needs Robin. He’s going to get himself killed.” Apathy buries the feeling of grieving a still living not-dad. He’s already crossed the stage of acceptance. Batman can die for all he cares. It’s not his job (not his place) to help Bruce.

Nightwing still gets roped into saving Batman from Two-Face. Tim still steals the Robin uniform and saves them both.

Batman looks at Tim. He’s done this song and dance before. He doesn’t even try to stop Tim and just goes “fine.” Nightwing thinks “I won’t let this one down. I’ll be a good brother, mentor, predecessor to this one. I’ll deserve to go to this one’s funeral.”

Bruce attempts to reach out one more time. Dick finds himself living closer to Gotham than he has in a long time. Undercover work makes his skin crawl — the blood on his hands never seems to wash off — but weeding out the Bludhaven Police Department feels almost like a vacation where he can pretend to be Dick Grayson, normal member of society, instead of Nightwing/Robin. (It’s the closest Bruce gets to being reassured of Dick’s safety.)

Life goes by. Dick and Bruce fight again and again. Batman and Nightwing fight side by side and back to back. Bruce and Dick stitch each other up in the Batcave and let bygones be bygones.

The Red Hood appears. Dick never really knew Jason all that well. He wonders if Bruce ever thought his dearly departed son was capable of committing such atrocities. Barbara says Jason had a darkness in him even before. She refused to elaborate further.

Bludhaven gets nuked. Jason disappears.

Dick returns to Gotham, to Wayne Manor. While he heals, Bruce sits at his bedside and Tim and Cass cuddle up against him. They’re just a pile of bats and birds basking in each other’s presence and the steady heartbeats that prove they’re alive.

Dick realizes that he hasn’t heard Bruce laugh in a long, long time.

Their life is hard. Things happen. Death happens. Life happens.

They’re all still alive. Somehow. Despite all attempts otherwise. Life has settled, kindly. Things aren’t getting worse. Sometimes, Dick thinks it might be getting better.

Dick sits with Jason at the kitchen table. They’re technically not supposed to bring mask stuff into the manor, but Dick is too immersed in this case to set it down while he makes a sandwich at 2AM. Jason is eating straight from the pickle jar. Dick know for a fact that Jason is only doing that because Dick can see him and he’s just being an asshole. Jokes on him. Dick is just happy Jason is alive and comfortable enough to be an asshole in stately Wayne Manor’s kitchen.

Dick doesn’t know what compels him, but completely unprompted, he says it anyway.

“I used to hate you.”

Jason doesn’t even falter. He just glances up, bites through his pickle, and deadpans,

“No shit.”

Dick can’t help but grin. “Yeah? I thought I was hiding it pretty well.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “For my 13th birthday, you gave me a keychain from some NYC gift shop that spelled ‘J-a-c-e-n’.”

#personal #dc #batfamily #batman #dick grayson #clearing out my drafts #and found this #no idea where I was going with it #but feel free to read it anyway #jason todd #bruce wayne #dreamlessblurb

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balillee · 1 year ago

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had to turn back to tumblr after a year of not using it to hate on the new atla adaptation

a few things

speedrunning through half of the story with the fire nation family is not a good idea, actually. lu ten was introduced far too early, and with it you delve into iroh's backstory, motivations and true character before you've even fully developed the whole 'silly old spiritual man who prefers tea and hanging out with his nephew over hunting down an 11-year old air nomad'. the lu ten funeral scene was fine as an addition, but it's not something for book 1. learning about lu ten is something we do in book 2 as it compliments the developing relationship between iroh and zuko with the fire nation as a whole. also, iroh seems a lot less cool. the show commits the grievous literary sin of always telling rather than showing, and by continuously telling us 'he's the famed general iroh, dragon of the west' you're not actually accomplishing anything. let him redirect some lightning you fucking cowards.

azula also seemed to exist for no reason. any of the correspondences to azula from zhao could have bypassed her entirely and could have gone straight to ozai or even the fire sages. she exists in season 1 purely to rush through explaining zuko and iroh far too early. the show exists as a guideline. FOLLOW THE GUIDELINE. THE GUIDELINE IS GOOD. EVERYONE KNOWS THE GUIDELINE IS GOOD. also make her fire blue. cowards

aang does not waterbend for the entire season, which means the window of opportunity for him to learn to bend the other elements before the arrival of sozin's comet is even shorter than in the original show. even the original aang, who the netflix adaptation changed because he was 'too childish and always goofing off instead of getting to the point' understood his responsibilities to learn the elements better than this new live action version - part of the reason for the gang to get to the northern water tribe was to find aang a teacher (not just katara), master pakku, because katara was not capable of teaching him at her novice waterbending level but even so they were still seen practicing together on multiple occasions.

this brings me to my next point. WHERE THE FUCK IS JEONG JEONG. aang in the original series understood the urgency of defeating the firelord before sozin's comet after speaking to roku very early on, not as late as depicted in the adaptation. currently, the gang don't even know that they're on a time crunch, and yet still the show refuses to let them take their time by going on side adventures. this leads into the episode where aang meets jeong jeong and tries to learn to firebend before he's even started earthbending at all, because he's still scared that he only has a year to master the elements. he burns katara while trying, which is the reason she learned she had the power to heal with her waterbending, we see how fucking sick jeong jeong is at firebending for the first time during the fight with zhao, and aang swears off learning firebending at all, which is one of his main points of conflict leading all the way into book 3. if we skip that whole episode, we have skipped meeting one of the members of the order of the white lotus. the show could think it's slick by omitting him to just have iroh as the white lotus' firebender, but that's possibly one of the worst changes they've made. the deserter was not a filler episode.

i know a lot of people were talking about this before the show even came out, but sokka is not sokka. in book 1, sokka is three things - funny, overconfident and sexist. in the live adaptation, he is kind of one of those three things. part of why sokka's arc is one of my personal favourites from the original show is the stark change you see from the start to the end of his story - he believes himself a leader but has no real tactical or combative experience despite telling all the fighters and warriors he meets about how impressive he is. and then at the end of the show he is a definitively strong leader, shown by leading the assault on the fire nation armada - his team being two of the show's most competent female characters, who he trusts and respects with his life. by omitting these traits from sokka's character, you remove a big part of why he's even there in the first place - his arc's beginning allows him to become the fearless leader that lead his team to defeating the fire nation army.

i also hate that aang meets monk gyatso in the spirit world. a big part of aang's conflict about running away is that there exists nobody in the world who can tell him that what happened to the air nomads was not his fault, and that there was nothing aang could do to stop it if he was there. the new adaptation decides against the inclusion of one of aang's primary internal conflicts by changing the 'running away from his responsibilities as the avatar because he's a terrified child' to 'getting some air', and then throws in meeting the spirit of monk gyatso to tell him all of these things that aang needs to learn on his own. once again, telling rather than showing.

and finally, my least favourite change - the agni kai. part of the reason why i personally think the agni kai is so significant to zuko's story is the fact that zuko intentionally refuses to fight. in the adaptation, zuko fights back against his father, and his father scars him simply because zuko hesitates. in the original series, zuko bows to his father and pleads for mercy, and refuses to fight at all, and that is when it cuts away to iroh and azula's very differing reactions to the altercation, zuko screaming in the background. the setting also irritates me, because in the original, the agni kai was a public spectacle for hundreds to see in an ominous chamber, while in the new show it looked like just a regular old family gathering in the sun. zuko's adaptation scar i also hate because it doesn't even look like a scar. it looks like a birthmark, or at best, a black eye. if you hadn't seen the original, you would only know that it's a scar because the show tells you that it's a scar. zuko's scar in the animated series is a definite physical deformation of his face, his face looks red and raw, and his eye is smaller likely due to how the tissue healed, and as the show goes on you learn that the severity of his physical scars reflect the severity of his emotional ones. the original show does a brilliant job at showing how, just through the scar and the banishment alone, that despite zuko's beliefs, his father has betrayed him time and time again.

#atla #netflix atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar live action #atla live action

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rorywritesjunk · 1 year ago

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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Also, I’m not nice to Buggy when he tries to flirt. I definitely write him as a bit of a disaster when it happens. It’s just going to get a bit worse from here. This chapter is just kind of fluffy. Buggy deserves it. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 10

Miss Pins was kind enough to let Buggy upstairs to the living space to get dried off. The storm was pretty bad and she knew you would be dumb enough to walk him back to his ship like this, so she offered him a blanket and a spot on the kitchen floor to sleep, which he begrudgingly took while you came back to the kitchen in a pink fluffy robe with some towels for him to dry off with and a dry pair of clothes. You saw the blanket on the floor and frowned at him as your boss left.

“Does she want you to sleep on the floor, Buggy?” You asked as you unfolded a towel and started to dry his hair for him. “Because it’s too cold and hard. You’ll get sick.”

“I’ll be fine.” He replied, voice muffled from the towel as you dried his face next, being mindful of his nose. “Not the worst place to sleep.”

“My bed can fit two people.” You said as you handed him the other towels and clothes. “You can get changed in my room while I make us some tea.”

He looked at you in surprise, face flush at the suggestion. Share a bed with you? Granted, you did before back on his ship when he was drunk, but he just confessed how he felt to you only twenty minutes ago and you were offering to share your bed with him? Really?

You took his hand and led him down the hall to your room. “Come back to the kitchen when you’re ready.”

He was left alone after that. He stepped into your room and shut the door, taking a moment to check everything out. The dress you wore was hung up behind the door, drying out from the rain. There were some pictures on your dresser of what he assumed to be your parents and you, all smiling big. He picked up a photo of what he figured was you as a kid when you were still with your parents, and he squinted at it for a moment before setting it back down. It was nice to see you smiling in all the photos, and that you looked genuinely happy in every single one.

He stripped off his wet clothes and dried off, still looking around. There really wasn’t much in there except various articles of clothes hung up. Were they all yours or were these orders you worked on in your room?

The clothes you chose seemed to fit him. He didn’t know what to do with his wet things so he opened your wardrobe and found some hangers, figuring he could at least hang them for you since you’ve been doing everything else for him. Once he finished he returned to the kitchen where you were getting two cups ready with some tea. You looked up and smiled at him.

“Feel any warmer?” You asked. “Probably feels good to get out of those wet clothes.”

He shrugged and sat down at the table, leaning back in his chair. You went over to him and leaned down to give him a kiss, startling him to the point where he almost tipped his chair back, but you grabbed the back of the chair to prevent it.

“W-What was that for?” He asked, clearing his throat as he straightened up in his seat. You just shrugged as you went to the stove to pour the hot water into the mugs.

“Just felt like it.” You replied as you brought the mugs over to the table. “Let it sit for a few minutes, okay?”

He looked at the tea and back at you. “You’re not… upset by what I said?”

“Back at the lake?” You said as you sat down across from him. “About being in love with me? No.”

“Really?”

“Why would I be upset, Buggy?” You asked, frowning as you tilted your head to the side. “I told you that I’m starting to fall in love with you as well.”

“Y-Yea, but…” He hesitated. The doubt was coming back. What if you just said it to be nice to him? Maybe you weren’t really falling in love with him, just putting up with him until he left again and you’d fall for someone else, someone better than him even. Taller, more handsome, didn’t have a stupid red nose on their face.

“Buggy, why would I bring you to my home if I didn’t like you?” You asked as you reached across the table to take his hand in yours. “And if I didn’t like you then I wouldn’t be offering to share my bed with you. I’d let you suffer on the kitchen floor.”

He nodded slowly, looking down at his hand in yours, your thumb caressing his knuckles gently. That’s probably true, you wouldn’t be doing these nice things for him if you didn’t somewhat like him.

“You’re sweet, Buggy, and I like that about you.” You told him. “But I would like to hear why you’re in love with me.”

Oh. He didn’t think he’d want you to hear that. Where did he even begin?

“You’re nice to me.” He paused and frowned. “Genuinely nice to me.”

“Oh, Buggy…”

“What? It's the biggest reason!” He insisted, but you just looked at him sadly as you gave his hand a squeeze.

“If you give me names of anyone who's ever hurt you, I'll make them pay.”

Well, he wasn't expecting that response. Did you even have a mean bone in your body? Buggy shook his head, trying to reassure you but it didn’t seem to be working. “No, no, it's fine. I'm fine.”

“If you're sure…” You didn’t let go of his hand. The fact that you being nice to him was the biggest reason he fell in love with you made your heart hurt. You were raised to treat everyone with kindness, no matter who they were.

“I also liked how you took care of me after my birthday.” He continued as he picked up his cup of tea. “You didn’t expect anything in return.” He took a careful sip before setting it back down. “You’ve helped me out a lot when you didn’t have to. You could have just left me at the restaurant and you never laughed at me.”

It was supposed to be sweet, his words, but honestly it just made you sad. Didn’t he ever have someone to help him out when he needed it? Why did it take you just being nice to make him fall in love with you like this?

“Have people done that to you?” You asked, voice cracking just a bit. “Laugh at you when you need help? Why?”

“What? N-No, you’re not supposed to be upset when I tell you this!” He exclaimed, looking flustered. “I’m telling you good things, why I’m in love with you! It should make you happy!”

“I-I am happy, but Buggy, those are just… just things anyone should do!” You sniffed. “Things people do for people they care about.”

“... yea, well…” He crossed his arms and looked away. “I appreciate it, okay? It… means a lot to me.”

You suddenly got up and went over to him; he looked up at you, wondering what was happening, when you suddenly leaned down and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, hopeful that he could always get a hug from you. Honestly it was starting to become one of his favorite things whenever he saw you. There was just a feeling of safety whenever you held him, familiarity, and he wanted to be able to experience it forever.

You pulled away after a moment and he started to reach out to pull you back, but you put your hands on his cheeks and leaned down to kiss him softly. He was perfectly fine getting a kiss instead of a hug, leaning towards you as his hands went to your waist. The position was a little uncomfortable, so it wasn't surprising when you finally pulled back, looking down at him as your thumbs stroked his cheeks carefully.

“I want you to be taken care of, Buggy.” You told him. “I want you to know what it's like to be loved and cared for.”

“What? Why?”

You shook your head and chuckled softly. “Because anyone would want that, Buggy, and I want that for you.”

He sat up a bit straighter in his chair, praying it didn't suddenly break under him when he asked, “... Like from you?”

“Me?”

“Yes!” He insisted. “If I want someone to love and care for me, I want it to be from you! I just told you I'm in love with you, Sunny! And, and I only want to be with you!”

You looked at him, tilting your head to the side with a bit of a frown before you smiled and chuckled softly. “Is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

Buggy was speechless for a moment before turning red and nodding quickly. “It is now!”

Shaking your head, you kissed him again before returning to your seat. “I want a proper proposal, Buggy, with flowers and a ring, but not yet, okay? Wait at least until I'm finished with my apprenticeship.”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat, smirking over at you. “Gives me time to get you the best ring then.”

“I'll be waiting then.” You told him as you took a sip of your tea.

Buggy woke up the next morning convinced he had the best sleep of his life. You were still asleep, arms wrapped around him tightly with his head tucked under your chin. Normally he moved around in his sleep, tossing and turning, but he was content to be held against you instead.

He should get back to his ship, check in on the crew so they knew he was alive, but he wanted an extra few minutes with you before he had to get up.

When you finally stirred, sighing heavily as you started to open your eyes, he tried to pretend to still be asleep, shutting his eyes and hiding his head under the covers. You kissed the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair lovingly as you held him.

“You’re so sweet.” You murmured softly as you rested your chin on the top of his head as you stroked his hair. “I’m sorry if others don’t see that.”

Oh, that was nice to hear, actually, and it made him feel better about how yesterday went with him telling you how he felt, and the stress and anxiety he was having over it and how you might actually feel about him seemed to go away just a bit.

Buggy didn’t want to move just yet, he wanted to hear if you were going to say anything else to him while he pretended to sleep. You pulled the covers off him just enough for you to kiss him on the forehead, which he was okay with, he wanted you to just hold him and kiss him whenever you wanted, it was reassuring that you liked him, that you wanted him around you, and he felt pretty good about the fact that you seemed okay with him wanting to marry you.

He just needed to be patient, wait like you asked him to do, and find the perfect ring for you.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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pursued-by-the-squid · 2 months ago

Note

Tips for writing?

OMG ANON MY BELOVED, HELLO!!!!!!! i've been thinking about this since you sent it in, trying to think of all the perfect things to say, so i apologize for the slight delay. but i'll give you the best advice i can & you just take whatever suits you best!!

my biggest recommendation is to write what you love. if you force yourself into a box, or to only write what you think is "acceptable", then you're limiting your creativity. sometimes trends are really fun and they can get your creative juices flowing, but sometimes they can make you feel stuck. don't feel the need to label yourself or stick to a particular genre/fandom/etc. like, literally just write whatever makes you happy because that's gonna be what you're passionate about! and passion makes writing so much easier, let me tell ya

read! my worst writing comes out when i haven't read anything in a while. this may be different for you ofc, but that's just my personal experience. read fanfic, read nonfiction, read your favorite fantasy/scifi/romance/whatever book, just read something so you can kind of dust your brain off and remember what it's like to be creative. especially if there's a particular author whose style you really like or whose style is similar to yours, keep their works close by!

get creative! write down whatever ideas come to mind. you wanna do a star trek au of an obscure bollywood movie that came out 30 years ago? fucking do it, because no one else is gonna write that story the way you will. will you get a lot of readers? maybe, maybe not, but if you're happy and you have at least 1 other person to talk about it with, you're golden.

speaking of which, don't obsess over the numbers. this is the one that i struggle with the most, so trust me i get it. it is a very unique agony when you write somethign that you're massively proud of or excited about, and then nobody reads it. or they leave a 2 word comment. but on the other side of the numbers spectrum, when you're doing your word count, try not to obsess over that either. when you really get into the groove, it's easy to forget about the word count bc the words will just come out of you and then before you know it, you've written 12k of internal monologue lol

pay attention to how people talk. i realize this sounds bizarre, but one of my biggest pet peeves as a reader is when a character sounds like.... the idea of a person? this can also depend on genre bc idk maybe you're writing high fantasy and everyone's just really pretentious. but especially in fanfiction, if you can't at least somewhat emulate the cadence/vocabulary/driving force behind a character's words, then they're gonna sound all wrong and the story won't land

find out the setup that suits you best. do you like writing with microsoft word? google docs? hand writing? do you need background white noise? do you like ambient videos? music with words or without? lights on or off? total silence? for me, i lean a lot on ambient/themed videos in the background because they help to immerse me in the environment i'm writing about. when i feel immersed, it's easier to add in the details in your story that helps the readers feel immersed too (like sights, smells, touch, etc)

practice! i've been writing for like..... what, 16? 18? years now and trust me, the early ideas were hot garbage. and in my humble opinion, my writing has really only gotten super good in the past like 6 months and that's really only because i've been writing more, focusing more on types of plot/climax, and have been much more careful with my editing. and also just, again, bc more writing means more practice. it also helps to have a friend or author community to bounce ideas off of!

#writing advice #friend mail #i hope this is somewhat helpful bc i feel like it can be different for everyone #but yeah! enjoy and let me know if these work for u!!

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skzhocomments · 9 months ago

Text

In the Dark - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 2 - Take my breath away

General masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

---

Chapter 2 - Take my breath away

chapter word count: ~6.6k words

~Jieun’s POV~

Mondays are always the worst day of the week, as the weekend barely provides enough time to actually recharge and get my energy back after dealing with screaming children for 5 days straight.

I love my job, but teaching elementary school kids their 2+2s and ABCs is not exactly the dream, is it?

It was mine, though. I’ve always loved kids and found a lot of fascination in the idea of bringing up someone, in being able to shape a small person’s thoughts and ideas, in being able to perhaps influence them so that they would remember you 20 years later when they’re all grown up and successful. I wanted them to look back at this time spent with me in our small classroom fondly, to create a safe space for them so that they can grow up into the best version of themselves.

It's still my dream, but the problem is the money, that is hardly enough for my current expenses. Ever since my grandmother got sick, I knew I had to uproot our lives, and I brought her here, in the biggest city of our country, after managing to secure a job as a teacher at a small school in a quiet neighbourhood, so that she can have access to the best healthcare. Her hospital bills and meds, though, combined with my rent and food, are a fatal combination for my paycheck.

But you know the saying: desperate times call for desperate measures.

I was no different, and I knew that if my grandmother were to ever find out what I was doing in order to keep her hospitalized with 24/7 care available, she would at best disown me, at worst kill me with her bare hands.

inthedark.com

A website where you would essentially apply to become a high-end prostitute. A site that’s supposed to keep your identity completely private, and your clients’, too.

I joined this website one week ago and had my first client last Saturday, and for just two hours with him, I got almost half of my school paycheck. He also tipped me 200$, which was crazy. Who tips a prostitute that much?

I shouldn’t be doing this, I know, but what was I supposed to do? Let the person who raised me pass away in pain, when I knew she could get treatment to help her live a decent life for a few more years?

I lazily got out of bed and headed to school. It was 7:30 AM, and the school was just a few minutes’ walk away.

I liked to get there earlier so that I could rearrange the kid’s seats and make sure my classroom is perfect. We had an art contest last week, and I wanted to put all the paintings on display on the wall for the kids to see. I wanted to set up my cookie jar as well, because the best way to start the day for anyone would be with a nice little treat.

“Miss Park, good morning!” The director of the school, a lady well in her late 50s was inside of my classroom and welcomed me with a big smile on her face. Next to her, a tall, slim good-looking man holding a little girl’s hand smiled as welcoming as the director.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wang. What brings you here so early in the morning?” I returned their smiles and nodded briefly at the man, then turned my attention to the little girl hiding behind her dad’s leg. I waved at her, but she only hid her face more.

“Well, we have a new transfer student. Dear, won’t you introduce yourself?” Mrs. Wang tried to get the little girl to talk and looked at her expectedly. “Come on, we don’t have the whole morning!” She continued, making the little girl turn her head away, and a frown appear on her father’s face. Forcing a shy kid to say anything would prove pointless, so I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Actually,” I started, “we do have the whole morning. What a beautiful day to get to know each other, don’t you think?” I smiled brightly and took a few careful steps towards the dad-daughter pair, letting myself fall on my knees to be on the same height as the girl.

“Well, I’ll let you handle this. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Choi.” The director smiled and left the room.

After the director left, the girl seemed a bit less tense. Her father caressed the back of her beautiful, long, brown, curly hair, and spoke kind words.

“It’s okay, baby. You can tell the nice teacher your name.”

The girl still shook her head, and her dad started apologising. “I’m really sorry, she’s not normally like this. Her name is-”

“That’s fine.” I cut him off. “We can learn each other’s names later, isn’t that right, beautiful?” I smiled at her lovingly, and she finally looked at me for a few seconds. “I have something really tasty for you and your future classmates.”

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the large bag of chocolate cookies that I baked yesterday. “But I have to put them in that big jar on the desk. I’m not sure I can do it alone. Would you like to help me put the cookies in the jar? You can have two cookies if you help me, but it has to be our secret.” I whispered and placed my index finger against my lips, then winked.

The girl seemed excited, as she nodded eagerly with a bright smile on her face and ran to the desk. I followed her, and gave her the bag of cookies, letting her put each cookie into the jar; a simple activity that helped calm her down and warm up to me.

“Wow, you’re so good at this!” I praised her, and she chuckled like the innocent kid she was, reminding me of why I loved children so much. If I would ever have a daughter, I wanted her to be just as cute as this little girl who’s happily putting cookies in the jar one by one with her little hands.

“Done.” She smiled, showing me and her dad her work proudly.

“Well done, baby!” Her dad praised her as well.

“Now it’s time to eat a cookie!” I clapped my hands once, and the girl took some cookies out and came to me and her dad, handing them to us. Of course, we accepted and started eating them, as the girl grabbed a cookie for her as well and munched on it joyfully.

“How is it?” I asked the girl, watching her devour the treat.

“Tasty!” She exclaimed, making me and her dad look at each other and chuckle. “I love chocolate!”

“I’m glad you like it. I made them myself!” I boasted, then chuckled again. “My name is Park Jieun. I’m really happy to have you join my class, and I hope we’ll be best friends.” I told the girl, who nodded and replied.

“My name is Choi Nari. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Park. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, come here!” I positioned myself back on my knees and opened my arms to her, squeezing her tight. She was the sweetest little girl.

“Where will I sit?”

“Hmm, how about this seat here?” I went next to the first desk next to the window and pointed to the seat on the left, which hasn’t been occupied. “Your deskmate is a sweet girl just like you, and I think you’ll get along great.”

The girl happily ran towards her seat and her dad followed her, placing her small backpack on the table.

“Okay, Nari, daddy has to go to work.” The man spoke kindly. “I will come pick you up at 4, okay?”

“Okay daddy! I love you!” She waved.

“I love you the most!” He smiled and waved back, and I saw him out of the classroom.

We walked for a bit, and I closed the door behind us, giving Nari privacy to take out her stuff in peace and arrange them on her desk.

“Thank you so much, Miss. Park. Nari already seems better.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Mr… Choi?” I tilted my head and smiled, unsure.

“Oh, yes! I apologise, I completely forgot to properly introduce myself earlier. My name’s Choi Minho.” He nervously scratched his nape and handed me his hand, which I shook.

“No worries.” I chuckled. “May I ask why you transferred Nari in 2nd grade?”

“She… has been bullied at her old school, and…”

“Oh no.” I frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hope she’ll be better here. She really seems to like you. Please take care of her and let me know if anything happens.” He bowed slightly.

“Of course. Please don’t worry about anything. She’s in good hands.” I assured him, and he raised his head.

Opening up his coat, he took out a small business card and handed it to me. “This is my number, please call me anytime if Nari needs anything, or if something’s wrong. Sometimes I’m a few minutes late to pick her up, but I’m going to try to be here on time. Still, could I also have your number in case I’m running late?”

“Of course.” I smiled and typed in his number from the business card in my phone, shooting him a quick text with my name.

“Thank you so much, Miss Park. I see kids are already starting to come, so I’m gonna leave you to your job. Have a nice day!”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” I smiled and stepped back into my classroom, where Nari already finished arranging her notebooks and was now excitedly looking at all the paintings on the walls.

Damn, the paintings! I cursed in my head, remembering I wanted to stick the ones from last week’s art contest on the walls, but it was already too late to do so.

Children started buzzing into the classroom, their parents holding their hands tightly and kissing their chubby cheeks goodbye, as the next time they would come pick them up would be in some many hours from now: 6, 7 or even 8, to be more precise. Even if the classes ended at 12, the school I secured a job at gave the working parents the possibility of coming late for pick up.

When the parents were gone and the whole class was seated, I asked Nari to come in front and I helped her introduce herself, making sure that she felt as comfortable as one shy child could in a new environment.

2 AM found me drinking tea on the small sofa in my rented apartment. Normal people would sleep this late on a Thursday night, but here I was browsing through people’s forms in Requests on the In the Dark app.

Meeting Charisma last week got me a lot of money, and ever since then, I’ve received a few requests from others, but I’ve been pretty reluctant to meet up with anyone else. Charisma set the bar quite high. Not only was he fit as fuck, which I could tell just by roaming my hands on his chest and perfectly sculpted abs and muscles, but he was genuinely good in bed too, not selfish, made sure I felt good and even made me cum, which was a first for a random hook-up, and certainly not what I expected when I signed up on inthedark.com as a prostitute.

His special requirements were also normal, compared to the others I’ve seen which were at best degenerate. I kept rejecting other ‘applicants’, but I wasn’t sure if I should keep my expectations high or just go with whoever was willing to pay the price I gave myself.

It felt horrible, objectifying myself like that, having to decide what my body sells for and actively selling it away. I have become just a trash toy for someone to use as they please. I have become damaged goods, an object purely crafted for sexual function. I have become dirt, and I was now a dirty woman.

inthedark.com was, after all, a dirty place stinking putrid. Even if the font was a fancy Centeria Script, the name shining in golden letters on a black screen, even if it looked presentable, drawing you in with every click, promising all and any fantasy, wild, rough sex under the pretense of a poor woman’s factual desire, it was just a filthy site, gaudy and cheap, like any other brothels out there. The more it seems to shine, the more it’s actually teeming with decay.

The only good things this site offered were how private everything was and letting me at least make the choice myself of who to sell my body to. There were extensive documents everyone who wanted to become a member – be it customer or whore – had to provide, from medical records to personal information that was stored to be used against you in case you would violate the terms and conditions. They would sue you to oblivion if you so much as brought a source of light in the room.

At least that.

It was private and it was safe from a medical point of view.

The first (and only) customer I had was this Charisma dude, who, as I said, set the bar in the fucking sky. He was respectful and treated me more like a partner than like a mere prostitute, even if he didn’t want to kiss me.

I understood that, for I probably was, in his eyes, a dirty whore who fucked men for money.

Still, I was really grateful that my first customer was Charisma. He didn’t know how many demons I was battling while letting him touch me and while touching him. He didn’t know how much I hated myself for disposing of my principles in exchange for my grandmother’s hospital bills. He didn’t know any of it. Still, he treated me with care. He didn’t degrade me more than I was already degrading myself, and I was thankful for that, because otherwise I didn’t know how I would’ve been able to live with my regrets and with this guilty feeling pressing down on my chest every time I breathed.

7 requests to go through. I sighed, still unsure if what I was doing was the right thing. I didn’t want to fuck strangers for money, in fact, I was always against women flaunting their tits and asses and pussies to earn some, but then again, I think there aren’t too many people that geuinely want to do this kind of work anyway, and how else was I supposed to get more money without it affecting my day-to-day life and job? It’s not like I could go get hired somewhere else and work another 6 hours per day for the whole month, just to get the same pay check I made after a few hours of sex.

Still, I really didn’t want to accept other forms. Charisma’s money was going to pay for my grandma’s care this month, so I could technically not get any clients until next month without any issues.

Yes, maybe I should just reject them all and whatever comes next month, I will take.

Another sigh left my lips as I looked at my now cold cup of tea, just as a ping forcefully pulled me out of my thoughts.

1 new notification – inthedark

I pressed on it and a new request popped up.

It was Charisma.

---

CHARISMA – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Hello Flame, I was hoping I would see you again this Saturday. Just like I mentioned in my last form, I love everything intimacy-related.

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: No kissing on the lips, please.

CONDOM / NO CONDOM (if you pick the NO CONDOM option, you have to attach a report of a recent medical check-up that ensures you don’t have an STD): no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: Feels weird to communicate this way, but not knowing who you are and you not knowing who I am is probably better for both. I’m really sorry for the dirty question, but… how’s your gag reflex? I would love to fuck your throat if you’d let me :) Of course, that doesn’t mean I will forget about you.

---

Charisma wanted to see me again on Saturday night. He booked 4 hours this time.

I really didn’t want to accept other forms. But if it’s him…

I think… I might just accept it.

Why not?

He was great in bed. He paid attention to every part of my body.

He held me afterwards.

Why not?

I started reading through his form and found it very funny how he used each column to have a ‘conversation’ of sorts. All the other clients would simply write what they wanted or didn’t want, forgetting there was a human being on the other side of the form.

He even wrote please, for fuck’s sake. Did he forget I’m just a whore?

Of course, that doesn’t mean I will forget about you. He wrote that. Why? Does he want me to enjoy the sex that badly? He could just use my throat to get off and not even touch me at all, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he doesn’t pay me to enjoy having sex with him. He pays me so he can cum inside or on me. So… why did he feel the need to mention my pleasure like that?

Is he also having second thoughts about this whole prostitution-thing?

Maybe I’m also the first harlot he’s seeing. What a funny thought. Maybe we’re just the same. It wouldn’t be so implausible, since his touches were so unsure at first, I almost felt like laughing. Shy in a whore house. Pfft.

I liked Charisma. He was a good customer to have.

I could just think of him as my fuck buddy to ease my guilty conscience, and if I would only see him, and he would hire me at least once a month, I wouldn’t have to fuck any sleazy guys. I could keep my dignity – in some way, anyway. This felt like cognitive dissonance, but it helped me not beat myself up over having a different guy pay me every week to endure him fucking me.

At least I enjoyed it with Charisma.

Yes. Okay.

---

FLAME – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Charisma, I really appreciate you booking me again. :) I’m quite happy, actually, to know you’ve enjoyed our last time together. Of course, I’m going to take care of you and hold onto you for the whole night. ;)

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: I don’t enjoy pain, but you can slap my ass (please?), and even my face – not too hard! – if you’re into that, if you make sure you won’t leave any marks.

CONDOM / NO CONDOM: no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: My gag reflex is not so bad, but it might take some time to get used to you. Please take it slowly at first. If I can’t take it or need a break, I will tap on you three times.

---

Saturday came by quickly, and I was pacing back and forth around the dark room while waiting for Charisma. It was funny, really, not ever seeing how this room looks like in the light, but they’ve informed me when I first came here that the lights in the ‘bedroom’ stay off all the time to prevent any accidents from happening. Only the hallway is illuminated, and that light turns off automatically as well as soon as you press on the bedroom’s handle.

When I arrive here, the bedroom door is already open, so I have to walk into the room and shut the door behind me, which is when the mechanism starts working. The client then comes in the hallway, opens the bedroom door, and all lights in the whole place turn off. When the time is up, we hear a small bell sound, and I have to exit the room back into the hallway and close the door behind me.

The door locks automatically and the light turns on, and there is a clean white bathrobe waiting for me on the small shelf in the hallway. I must dress myself in it, then leave to another room on another floor, so that my client has the same privacy as I do. In that other room I can shower and chill out while a staff member brings me my clothes, previously discarded on the floor.

Now back on what happens to the client after I leave. The bedroom door would get unlocked, and he would have to go into the bathroom and clean up as well. While he does that, the staff member quickly collects all our clothes, and they leave the client’s on the small shelf in the hallway, and they bring mine, as I said.

Neither of us meets the staff members face to face. We sometimes hear them rummaging around, but we’ve already been instructed on the app prior to the meeting that we have to pretend they’re not there, and not try to meet them at all. Their identities are private. They have the same right to privacy as we do.

My clothes are brought to me in the hallway of my new room while I sit on the bed and watch TV or eat and drink stuff from the mini bar, but only after my client has left the building for a long time. Last time it took about 1 hour for my clothes to be brought to me, and I spent that time glancing around the room at the ugly yellow wallpaper with gaudy flowers on it, and the boring brown furniture. I wondered if the room Charisma and I used looked as disappointing as this one.

At least everything was clean.

I don’t know how long I waited for Charisma. Probably 20-something minutes, as I got here way earlier than I should’ve. I sat on the bed for the first many minutes, but I got bored and sleepy, being surrounded by complete darkness, so I decided to get up and just walk around the room, see if my hands recognise any décor from the room I did see.

My heels were getting uncomfortable, and I don’t know why I decided to wear them. I could’ve worn sneakers. My stupid brain just thought in a leap of judgment that this slutty short skirt I was wearing, that left virtually nothing to the imagination, fit way better with a pair of high heels. Both were black, but of course, I was the only one who had that information. The staff member that would have to pick them and my soaked wet panties from the floor and bring them to me would have it as well, in about four hours from now.

When the door finally opened, Charisma’s scent invaded my nostrils, just like last time. The perfume he used must’ve been expensive, but I didn’t recognise it.

Instead of waiting patiently for him to figure out where I am, like I did last time, I decided to be bolder and headed towards him directly. My eyes were already adjusted to the darkness in the room enough to be able to see shapes. Of course, there was no visible source of light, but it wasn’t pitch black either, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to notice where Charisma was.

He was a tall man with a nice build, and he frankly turned me on, thankfully.

When I got in front of him, he stopped moving, aware of my presence, and I pressed my hands on his face. If he were my date, or at least my hook-up or one night stand, I would’ve kissed him, but I knew better.

I knew he didn’t want it. Why did I want it? It made no sense.

I would’ve done it, though.

I would’ve raised on my tiptoes, even on these uncomfortable high heels, and I would’ve smiled at him and told him a small ‘hi’, and then I would’ve pressed my lips against his, and I would’ve let him stick his tongue down my throat and kiss me over and over while our hands would erratically grab each other’s bodies, for both of us were full of desire and wanted to feel a little bit closer.

But my contract doesn’t allow me to talk, and he doesn’t allow me to kiss him, and I don’t know why these thoughts even went through my head, because what genuine desire could there possibly be between a customer and his whore, besides purely sexual tension for a release?

He held my hands with his, that were still on his face, and he grabbed my right palm, letting my fingers brush over his lips so lightly, a feather must’ve felt heavier. Then, he pressed a gentle kiss on my fingertips, and my heart started beating faster, irregularly, uncontrolled.

He pulled my body into a hug and caressed the back of my hair as if he would’ve said ‘I missed you’, as if I were his lover, and I embraced him back, as confused as I was, feeling my head get lighter as I felt deprived of oxygen. He took all of it out of my lungs with such simple gestures.

When we separated, I started roaming his body with my hands, taking off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. We let all those useless garments fall down and I started kissing his neck and chest, biting his skin slightly, his small moans every time my lips touched his body turning me on way too much for him to just be a client that pays me to have sex with him. Who knew this could be so enjoyable to me?

Since I was meeting him for the second time, I already knew my way around his body, his firm muscles, where I needed to touch to make him squirm under my fingers. He was burning hot and he smelled good, and all my senses were intoxicated and full of him, so it was too easy to fall on my knees and unbuckle his belt, to take his already hard dick in my mouth.

Did I excite him that much for him to already be hard after just a few love bites on his chest and stomach?

As soon as my mouth made contact with his member, he let out a small groan. I wondered if his head was rolled back, if his eyes were closed, if he wanted to watch me suck his dick. If we would’ve seen each other and he would’ve looked at me, would’ve I looked right in his eyes to watch him become fucked up with the pleasure I’m causing?

What colour were his eyes? Brown? Green? Black?

I worked his dick down my throat to the best of my abilities, painfully aware of his written request of fucking it tonight. I wasn’t necessarily good at deep throats, but with enough ‘training’ and patience, I think I would be able to take a good fucking, even if it would leave my throat sore the next day.

Charisma was thankfully patient, for now at least. He let me suck him off the way I wanted to, his small moans would compliment me and encourage me to keep going, and his large hand on the top of my head was there just to caress me, not to push me or hasten me in any way.

He showered beforehand; much to my delight, he tasted good, and he was well groomed. This, combined with the fact that his body was sculped by some Greek God, made me wonder why he came to see a prostitute in the first place. It shouldn’t have been difficult to get any dates.

Maybe he’s ugly.

The thought sounded wrong in my head. Somehow, I didn’t even want to imagine this a possibility, for it was simply impossible for Charisma, who treated me so gently, who smelled so good and was so tidy, who certainly spent years in the gym to train this perfect body under my fingertips, to not be good looking.

Maybe he looks like that dad of the new girl in my class. He is handsome enough, and they seem to be of similar heights anyway.

A dangerous thought came through my head, but I tried to get rid of it as soon as it came.

Use Choi Minho as a visual representation of Charisma. He’s hot and handsome, and they’re the same height.

Of course, doing this to my mental health wasn’t a good idea. Charisma was Charisma, a faceless man I enjoyed fucking whenever he wanted to meet me.

I should never navigate on that territory of imagining him to be someone I know in real life that I see every day while he drops off and picks up his daughter from school. He’s probably married anyway, and I’m not a homewrecker. Not intentionally, at least. Charisma might be married too, but I didn’t feel any rings on his fingers last time we met. Of course, men are men, and he could’ve just taken it off, but even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered, because he was paying me for the few hours spent together, and I couldn’t get out of the agreement anyway.

I continued sucking Charisma off, and I started getting used to the pressure down my throat. Even if I was choking a bit on my saliva that was now uncontrollably smearing my face and falling on my clothes and probably on the floor, the feeling in my neck wasn’t that unpleasant, and I was glad that I didn’t feel like throwing up.

Charisma must’ve felt it too, because he grabbed my face and pulled away, then helped me stand up. He used his hands to clean up my chin, then helped me towards the bed. I laid down, my head on the edge of the mattress, as he aligned his dick with my mouth.

I opened wide, but he hesitated for a bit.

Is this okay? Is what his hesitation made me think he wanted to ask, if he were allowed to talk. Of course, he signed the same forms as me, so we weren’t allowed to utter any more than desperate sobs, moans, grunts and whines, but that’s what it felt like he was asking, so I placed my hands on the back of his now naked thighs and pulled him towards me.

He pushed his dick in my mouth, and I took it in fully, and he stayed there, balls deep, for a few seconds, taking my breath away. Then, he pulled out and I caught my breath. He didn’t leave me too many seconds to do so, as he entered my mouth again and started keeping a steady pace of fucking my throat deep and quick while holding my neck with his right hand. He squeezed and I felt myself become a bit too deprived of oxygen, and while it made my head dizzy, it also gave me euphoria, so I found myself moving my own hand towards my pussy and starting to rub it slowly through my underwear, while Charisma was using my throat as his personal fleshlight.

I was becoming sensitive and felt myself wanting to cum, but my head got so dizzy, I was focusing hard to keep myself present in the moment and not faint from the lack of air in my lungs. I stopped rubbing myself and raised my hand to cover Charisma’s on my neck, as I was almost at my limit and didn’t think I could take it anymore.

I held onto his hand for a while, and he stopped squeezing my neck and held me back as his pace started becoming sloppy, and I knew he was close. He moved his other hand on my left breast, groping it and squeezing it through my blouse and bra.

I shut my eyes tight and fought the urge to tap his hand three times to make him stop, decided to only do so if I really couldn’t take it anymore.

However, there was no need for me to do so, because he came down my throat soon after I held his hand, with a loud grunt that sounded heavenly to my ears, and he removed his dick from my mouth, proceeding to probably kneel down and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

If I were his date, and not a mere whore, would’ve he kissed my lips instead?

I took the next few minutes to recover from the intense face-fucking I’ve experienced and let the air slowly make its way back in my lungs, while Charisma grabbed a bed sheet or some other fabric and wiped my face clean with one hand and touching my hair soothingly with his other.

You did a good job. That’s what his touches felt like, and I felt cared for.

After a couple minutes of breathing in and out, I grabbed Charisma’s arm and pulled him towards me, letting him know that I’m ready for whatever he wants us to do next.

He started by pulling me up to sit on my ass so he can take off my blouse and bra with ease, then he palmed my breasts and kissed spots on my neck and collarbones while pinching my nipples softly.

I let a soft whine escape, and he made his way down, riling my skirt up and only removing my panties. He pushed my legs open, and I became aware of how wet I was. He ate me out last time we met as well, and I tried to focus on how good his tongue felt on my clit, and not on the fact that he must’ve considered my lips to be dirtier than my pussy; otherwise, why wouldn’t he want to kiss me?

His tongue moved carefully between my folds. He was experimenting each spot that made me moan, he teased my entrance before moving back to my clit and sucking on it ever so gently, and he seemed to relish on all the sounds I was making, for he let out some small moans as well every time I would clench around nothing.

Two of his fingers brushed my lips and I opened up my mouth again for him to stick them down my throat, covering them in saliva, just so that he could move them against my entrance and explore my insides with them, as if they wouldn’t have slid easily enough with how wet he made me, anyway.

He continued licking up my clit while his fingers curved mercilessly inside of me, grazing the sweet spot inside, driving me over the edge and bringing me to what was probably the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life.

He continued licking me and fucking me with his fingers, and the pleasure started becoming overwhelming, even painful, so I put my hands in his hair and grabbed it as hard as I could, making him move away from me.

He kissed my thighs while I moaned and moaned, trying to get back from my high, then he kissed my lower stomach and made his way up on my body, as if he wanted to kiss me everywhere, to not leave any patch of skin untouched.

Once he was completely on top of me, his dick brushed against my pussy, and I felt how hard he became once again. He kissed the crook of my neck as he pressed his dick inside, and I let out a loud whine, as he didn’t leave me any chance to get used to him inside of me. He started thrusting strongly, earning a loud moan each time he would bottom out inside of me, and I let my head roll down, falling out of the mattress while he was buried in my neck, biting it and sucking on it while fucking me hard.

I felt my second orgasm creep in, and I came loudly, unable to control any sounds coming out of my mouth. Hearing me, Charisma grunted and soon enough I felt his warm release inside of me as well.

He collapsed on top of me, and we just breathed for a little while, together, synchronised, letting our chests rise and fall and touch, our faced hovering mere centimetres away, his lips so closed to mine, his breath against mine so warm. It would’ve been so easy to cross a line, but he specifically asked to not be kissed, and I really wanted to see him again, to have him fill me up and take care of my body’s needs.

Eventually, Charisma moved away from on top of me and guided me in a normal position on the bed, head on his shoulder similar to last time, and started caressing my hair slowly, kissing my forehead, slowly dragging his fingers on my arm, making my skin get goosebumps.

I enjoyed staying like this with him so much, even more than the sex. It felt like we were close, and I let my right hand feel his heartbeat against his chest, and I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The bell sound painfully woke me up from my slumber, indicating that our four hours were over. Reluctantly, I got up from Charisma’s shoulder and sighed, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down, hugging me tightly, before releasing me.

I didn’t want to overthink it too much. He must’ve just been grateful I let him cum down my throat and in my pussy. That’s all.

I made my way out of the room and closed the door behind me, which obviously locked, and the light turned on.

I grabbed the white bathrobe hanging on the shelf in the hallway and went out, heading towards my new room I had to use until Charisma completely left the building.

Once inside the new room, I went straight to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror while taking off the robe. My whole skin was stained with purple marks going from my neck to my breasts and my abdomen, and I traced each of them with my fingers, until I reached the hem of my skirt.

I was still wearing it. Charisma didn’t take it off this time, for some reason.

Seeing myself like that, naked, in only that damn short slutty skirt, covered in love bites, my hair and make-up a mess, and knowing I’ve just been covered in saliva and snot hours prior by some strange man I was meeting for money for the second time already, I really felt like a dirty whore.

Looking in the bathroom mirror was a rude awakening to this fact, and no matter how much I wanted to trick myself into thinking that Charisma’s nice gestures were genuine attraction towards me, my dishevel hair and this short skirt brought me back to Earth.

I was nothing special. I was just a whore.

A nobody.

Dirt.

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MEETING REVIEW FORM by Charisma

Rate Flame from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Were all your special requirements fulfilled? (Leave empty if not applicable): Thank you for everything, Flame. I felt amazing. Tonight has fulfilled so many of my fantasies. Let’s do it again sometime.

What did you enjoy? -

What should be improved? -

Would you like to tip Flame? (Any amount you write will automatically be deducted from your Card after submitting this form. Leave empty if you don’t wish to tip your host): 300$

Thank you for using our service!

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MEETING REVIEW FORM by Flame

Rate the interaction with the customer from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Did the customer fulfil your special requirements? -

Tip received – 300$: Thank you once again for the tip, Charisma, and I’m glad to learn that you felt good tonight. I loved sucking you off, and you can fuck my throat anytime. We definitely have to do it again and let me know if there’s any other fantasies you want fulfilled. I’d be glad to be the one to fulfil them for you xx❤️

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

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