#i thought i'd have at least 2 years before this happened
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work is literally creating a golden opportunity for me and i am hesitant to accept it because it means not working from home anymore lol
#i thought i'd have at least 2 years before this happened#now they're saying i could start on it early as last week of sept???? wtf#i'm so not used to fast-paced environments or decisions but i guess i gotta learn#nova speaks
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Various images of things
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. PIBBINS.... cheering clapping hooting hollering glorious applause everytime I see a pigeon in public#2. Birthday card that I drew for someone. .. kittys...#3. 2023's annual haul of tiny white pumpkins.. i get at least one white pumpkin every year around fall when they have pumpkins in stores#because I just love the color and texture ... bright white and smooth and cold and round.. kind of like a volleyball or something#4. A brief adventure into watching big brother (only earlier seasons of course as I hate all reality shows post like 2013 or something when#they became overly focused on social media and overproduced memeable phrases more.. like even though ALL reality shows have always#been extremely fake and annoying and mindless it's like..... newer stuff seems A Different Kind Of Fake or something) since whenever#I'm sick sometimes I find weird mindless things like that to watch (that one time I had bronchitis I watched all of Flavor of Love in my#half awake illness stupor and now everytime I heat up canned minestrone soup (mostly all I ate that week) I think of flavor flav since#thats just a weird brain connection I have now lol) ANYWAY.. I was sick and watched like 2 seasons of this and then thought it was too#uninteresting and obnoxious to continue (more like 1 and a half since I skipped the rest of one once only boring people were left) BUT this#one guy had a very mischevious looking face and he also said a few things (like the above captioned speech) that sounded like dialogue#some fantasy character would say.. so I took a screencap of him and edited him into a mischevious wizard i guess.?? idk I was sick lol#~your little friend has a poisoned tongue~ is just a very unexpectedly serious sounding wording for some random normal#frat dude looking guy to say while casually chatting on a reality tv show in like 2008 or whenever that was filmed lol#5. FLUFFY CLOVERS!! I'd never seen them be furry and soft before?? inchresting..#6. Noodle sitting in bed with the cat figurines looming above him... the council of kittys...#7. McDonald's full breakfast platter + asparagus + strawberries & cream (also of course this is old and I am now boycotting mcdonalds etc)#i try to group the images somewhat consistently like.. winter stuff with winter stuff or summer stuff with summer stuff#but I have so many random pictrues floating around on my computer that I never post that sometimes some are not organized or just#thrown into a set because there's nowhere else for them. Like the pigeon picture is from like 3 years ago for example lol#8 & 9 - I think I've posted these before but I just find them very interesting looking flowers. whenever they happen to be blooming#I'll pick up a few when I'm out on walks or etc. ... poof ball looking things#photo diary
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I'm not a "new musical theatre style music" person. Never have been.
Even when I was doing voice lessons, I'd steer towards the golden age or jazzy musical theatre songs. My voice teacher would have to drag me kicking and screaming towards adding anything new musical theatre to my repertoire. For a while, the most modern song in my book was I Know The Truth from Aida, and I wouldn't count that as new musical theatre style since I mean more the Pasek&Paul or Joe Iconis type.
And now I have an audition coming up for a small production of a show in that style and I'm supposed to sing a song in a similar style. And I'm looking at all my sheet music like... let me do some Cole Porter... or Gershwin... at least Sondheim please...
#look i do have SOME newer musicals in my book. but like i said. kicking and screaming.#i'm probably gonna end up doing 'I Think That He Likes Me' which is not IN a musical it's just new musical theatre style#as part of a songbook for some writing duo that i can't remember the name of and it's 2:45am so i can't care enough to look it up.#and it's the only one in my sheet music folder that i'm like 'ok. this is TRULY the right style' and i know it's good in my voice#and it's a cute song and i do like it and it definitely fits the overall vibe of the show#and though i haven't sung it in like 4 years i still remember 90% of the words and have time to study it before the audition#but while trying to find that song deep deep in my folder i pass by other songs i just love so much more#and i'm like ahhhhhhhh why#and i'm not even like 'god i hope i get it' (see A Chorus Line. that's more my type) i truly don't care if i'm cast or not#and yes i can technically audition with any song i could ever want it's just suggested to do the same style#but i know the entire creative panel who i'll be auditioning for and the last 2 times i auditioned for them i sang the same song#only because it's a GOOD song that fit both shows i was auditioning for (Can't Stop Talking About Him by Frank Loesser)#(perfect audition song since it's short at like 28 bars and you can pick the tempo and do a lot of character stuff)#(but see this is what i mean. like 1/3 of my entire sheet music folder is golden age musicals. then half is 60s-90s.)#(and then the last chunk are the few new-ish musical theatre and some pop music.)#(if i took performing more seriously i'd have a wider range but this is truly just for fun and just for me. so i do what i like.)#i don't want to go in for a 3rd audition with the same creative team and doing the same song. especially since it doesn't fit this time.#so once again. dragged kicking and screaming. over to new musical theatre territory. unwillingly.#if i get cast we'll have to see if the show itself even grows on me since honestly i think there's maybe 2 songs i like in it.#it's definitely not the worst new musical theatre style show but it's also not one that drew me in.#ok wait while looking through lists of 'new musical theatre' shows to find one i actually like (i think just Legally Blonde sorry guys)#(every other new musical in the last 20 years that i like did something interesting with the music like Come From Away)#i ended up finding out that apparently 13 was adapted into a netflix movie? when did that even happen?#i mean i don't care for that show either but i thought i was at least up to date on movie adaptations.
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imgonnagetyouback [guilty as sin part four] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader
PR jail did a lot of damage, but unlike SOMEONE else, charles is ready for the apology tour
MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: the timeline is absolutely all over the place in this and for needs must pretend that the spanish and austrian races are swapped on the calendar!
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,045,389 others
yourusername: i think your house is haunted, why are they always mad?
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user239: i have had it with little miss poet over here TELL ME IF MY PARENTS ARE DIVORCED OR NOT
user240: i hate that as this generation, them following each other on instagram is a key feature to whether they're still together or not
user241: my grandparents didn't have to go through this 😭
maxverstappen1: spill it sis
user242: WHAT DO YOU KNOW MAX
maxverstappen1: ummm nothing, and if i did i only take cash bribes. this is baby max relating hard to the caption
user242: oh :(
yourusername: oh maxy .... at least we now have good ways to express our emotions!
user243: ma'am he tore lando's wheel off because he can't handle wheel to wheel racing
liked by landonorris
yourusername: it's called hard racing, maybe mclaren should watch some of senna's old races instead of doing their 100th tribute livery xx
landonorris: you know he said you would do this exact thing, you can't handle anyone linked to your brother doing well
yourusername: oh i was perfectly prepared for you to win every race after miami since it was clear that the mclaren is the fastest car on the grid EVEN THOUGH you've publicly sided with them when anyone with a moral backbone (and a hint of PR awareness) would've run for the hills
landonorris: i'd really worry about the fact that the one piece of relevance you had left is no where to be seen, you're not worth defending for him
yourusername: it's insane the way you all have the same pompous attitude about this (i know that's a big word, but maybe you guys could get a couple of quid together to buy a dictionary)
maxverstappen1: also don't try and pretend 1. that you're completely in the right about everything that happened in austria 2. that you weren't scrounging around me (when we were friends i guess) trying to get details on y/n and charles
user244: okay this is wild
user245: i really thought lando would see the light on this
user246: or he realised that he can't race wheel to wheel unless he has the power of carlando friendship so he's burning bridges
oscarpiastri: i miss leo
yourusername: we literally are down the street bozo
oscarpiastri: i am ON MY WAY
user247: she's in monaco ???
user248: has to be, oscar only has a rental place he stays in london for mclaren and y/n has only ever lived in madrid or monaco
user249: there is still hope everyone
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 2,309,677 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: was i out of line? did i say something way too honest?
there are a couple things i need to get off of my chest.
first, a massive apology to my girlfriend. y/n is the love of my life and will be my wife sooner or later and i hate that as a 26-year-old grown man i haven't had the backbone to stand up to ferrari when it comes to her. she's incredibly strong and i hate that she's had to go through this without my public support. i can't take it back now, but if i could i never would've let them take my phone and take control of my social media. they have now been dealt with and no one will stop me declaring my love and support for her.
second, if i hadn't already ran out of patience before, the legal trouble that family have put their own blood through threw me over the edge. they will never, ever deserve that girl and if i have anything to do with it they will never talk to her ever again. i may have been silent online but money talks and we will have vindication soon.
third, a big thank you to max, oscar and ollie for their continued support of y/n. it means so much that the public still saw how loved she is when i couldn't.
four, i am awake and i am angry, these people will learn who they are fucking with. see you soon lecfosi, it'll all be worth it in the end.
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user254: WAR IS OVER
user255: my heart dropped when i got the post notification but this is the best news possible
user256: am i going to excuse a 26-year-old man for being a pussy? no. but i am going to celebrate him seeing the light and y/n having him back in her corner
yourusername: he was never out of my corner. true there was no public support, but he was there. i would rather have his support behind closed doors where it matters than plastered all over social media
maxverstappen1: you wouldn't believe the lengths these two were going, i became a messenger pigeon when they physically took his phone and the letters were so grossly cute
yourusername: that's literally mail tampering
maxverstappen1: and i'm a human not a pigeon, we can't all get what we want
charles_leclerc: i did i got y/n 😁😁😁
maxverstappen1: ugh welcome back gross instagram comments
user257: so that's what max meant when someone referenced letters that's so cuteeeee
user258: the shout out to max and the extended leclerc family i know that's right
oscarpiastri: anything for my grid mum
olliebearman: actually charles can you get your phone taken away again cause the heist was VERY fun
yourusername: heist???????
charles_leclerc: don't answer that ollie
yourusername: answer it ollie, did you put yourself in harms way ???
charles_leclerc: it was hardly high-stakes
olliebearman: we only stole a phone from silvia's office
yourusername: ollie that's kind of slay but i'm going to need you to delete all of these incriminating comments i don't want you to get in trouble for charles
user259: i know this is just eating up carlos inside seeing how loved she is in his sport
user260: it really does seem that lando is the only one in his corner
sebastianvettel: i am proud of you charles, i know how much ferrari means to you, but never let them take you from those who matter
charles_leclerc: thank you seb, i couldn't have done it without you
yourusername: we love you seb
sebastianvettel: my impromptu not at all prompted trip to maranello definitely wasn't to give you a well-earned slap up the side of the head
user261: no carlos bitching it up in the comments... i've been dreaming of this
maxverstappen1
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,734,037 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername
maxverstappen1: back to being a third-wheel, balance is restored - the united front of hating is BACK BABY
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user263: i prayed for times like this
user264: i know they didn't break up but i'm so glad y/n and charles are back together they're too pretty not to be in our faces 24/7
yourusername: just paying you back for you and kelly let me crash on the sofa
maxverstappen1: that really wasn't the burden you thought it was, jimmy and sassy loved their interactive cat bed
yourusername: i miss them (don't tell leo)
charles_leclerc: HOW DARE YOU MUM :((((((((
yourusername: okay baby we're not going to do that ...
charles_leclerc: but :( his feelings are hurt
yourusername: i know lewis is cool and will be your new teammate, but i draw the line at pretending to be leo in the instagram comment section
roscoelovescoco: watch urs backs
yourusername: AHAHAHHAHAHA
maxverstappen1: this man is about to turn 40
lewishamilton: you people ever heard of having some whimsy in your life
yourusername: i got sued by my own family 👍
lewishamilton: um yeah, sorry that happened to you
user265: y/n be ticking up the amount of drivers she's gone toe to toe with in instagram comments
charles_leclerc: you can finally eat my ice cream without trying to hide it
maxverstappen1: i think it's against my partnership contracts to publicly say that i like that ice cream
yourusername: don't worry baby we both ate three tubs and cried watching chick flicks while you were locked away in maranello
charles_leclerc: there's a reason a special edition strawberry flavour made its way to you
yourusername: i love you :(
carlossainz55: you might be "united" but you haven't won yet
charles_leclerc: do you ever shut the fuck up?
carlossainz55: oh someone finally found their voice
charles_leclerc: yeah i did which means you don't get to control the narrative anymore and i can call you a bitch
maxverstappen1: also if there was anyway we would lose, at least we are united, i can count how many friends you have left in this sport on one hand and two of them are your dad and your cousin
charles_leclerc: and watch out, clearly you guys aren't afraid to betray family, who knows it could be you next?
user266: i think charles is still being restrained but can we please at least get one day when he can fully go off his rocker
user267: i think we deserve it after all of it
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,764,094 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: she's not only poet barbie but also lawyer barbie - THAT POETRY IS MINE BITCH, SUCK MY DICK AND RUN ME MY MONEY
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user268: i don't think i've ever been more happy for a stranger before in my life
user269: she deserves this so much i'm actually like over the moon
charles_leclerc: i'm so happy for you baby, i knew it would all be worth it in the end
yourusername: they can't stop my romantic ramblings now
charles_leclerc: i don't know if i want them to hear them all
yourusername: oh no some are for our ears only ;)
oscarpiastri: unfortunately it's NOT all just for your ears
olliebearman: for a millionaire i thought you'd at least buy a house with thick walls
maxverstappen1: you'll get used to it after a while
yourusername: THERE WAS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION ARE YOU GUYS NOT HAPPY FOR ME ???
oscarpiastri: clearly not THAT happy
charles_leclerc: good. that would be entirely inappropriate
user270: finally some normal fucking couple stuff for y/n and charles
user271: their dynamic is so cute going from poetry to FUCKING
user272: i would be the exact same if i looked like either of them
fernandoalo_oficial: spoken like a real poet, i'm happy for you niña
yourusername: thank you pops !! couldn't have done it without you <3
fernandoalo_oficial: dealing with charles having close to a nervous breakdown every weekend was a lot, but i'm glad you have each other
charles_leclerc: thank you nando :)))) (i didn't have a nervous breakdown)
fernandoalo_oficial: you stress ate seven punnets of grapes
charles_leclerc: FERRARI I SWEAR I DIDN'T
charles_leclerc: wait i'm still annoyed at you ignore that
user273: i think charles is the first case of stockholm syndrome to a sports team
yourusername: @carlossainz55 come on i wanna tussle stop being a pussy
carlossainz55: enjoy your victory lap while you can, it won't last for long
yourusername: suck my actual dick, you put me through this i won't let you run away from it
yourusername: massive tip because i'm feeling generous, maybe actually come to court because there's a lot that you could know ...
carlossainz55: why would i waste my time on you?
yourusername: all will reveal itself
user274: oh it's finally on the other foot .... i'm enjoying this
user275: i think y/n and charles are too
f1tea
liked by user276, user277 and 21,056 others
tagged: carlossainz55
f1tea: sources close to us say that there is serious worry in the sainz camp after the courts decided they were unlawful in their actions against y/n sainz. the financial standings of the sainz family were already somewhat dyer before they took the youngest sainz' income but it's said to be even worse now they've had to pay damages.
in terms of f1, several of the teams that were interested in sainz were put off by the way he and his family were treating his sister but have fully backed out now the financial struggles of the sainzs has become clear.
this comes after a number of sponsors have ended their partnerships with the spaniard. where do you think he'll end up?
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user278: at the job centre hopefully
user279: i think this is what the kids call poetic justice
user280: the way charles just picked up a new sponsor... we love to see it!
user281: all the sponsors flocking to charles is so fucking real
user282: life comes at you so fucking fast
user283: in the words of his hero: KARMA!
user284: especially since fernando congratulated y/n on her win in court 😭
user285: bro can't even afford the tractor seat at williams i am HOWLING
user286: or at sauber, boy oh boy this is some great great content for a hater like me
user287: or HAAS and they fucking took nikita mazepin
user288: the next race can't come fast enough i wanna see how this guy spins it in the media
user289: for once in his life i can't see him spinning this is any way that makes him look good
user290: god i hope y/n is in the paddock as well
user291: oh gosh i need her diana revenge dress moment
user292: i don't care if that's your brother i need you to STUNT ON HIM
user293: other than y/n and charles, i know oscar is cheering at this news
user294: bro saw his grid parents get back together and his biggest opp be declared broke and jobless
user295: i really don't understand how y/n slutting round the paddock has been praised so much when her hopping from driver to driver has cost her brother his dream
user296: cope.
user297: also y/n has only ever been with charles DESPITE carlos and her father trying to pimp her out for favours
usr298: now we know this ^^ i don't understand why carlos was so annoyed that she was finally doing what they always wanted
user299: it was because it didn't serve him.
user300: he was probably happy y/n was with charles until he realised it was for you know an ACTUAL relationship rather than psychological teammate warfare
carlossainz55
liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 104,889 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
carlossainz55: it was never 'true love' if all you ever wanted was to bag a trophy husband and never work again
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user302: posting a picture of charles' crash and tagging him is nasty business
user303: would've been iconic if i wasn't him
user304: also that caption just really isn't the read he thought it was
user305: i grew up watching posh spice and cheryl cole in the stands at england games like obvs people want to be with athletes
user306: also this guy pretending he doesn't have a revolving door of models who are just there to be wags
yourusername: yes? and.
yourusername: at least wag isn't my only job. you better hope that rebecca stays booked honey
carlossainz55: don't bring rebecca into this she has nothing to do with any of this
yourusername: awwww did you already cheat? that does track...
yourusername: also you've been slandering my boyfriend all over the internet and ON THIS POST so shut the fuck up i'll bring up who i want to bring up
carlossainz55: get the fighting words out, you might need them when charles questions why you just happened to fall into his lap
yourusername: you've stolen every last penny from me, sued me and tried to turn everyone i care about against me - and guess what? YOU'RE STILL STUPID
carlossainz55: i'm not stupid you're a gold digging slut and you WILL BE FOUND OUT
yourusername: i actually think i could play pinball with the one remaining brain cell in your head
user307: i know this is serious drama but YES SASSY Y/N IS UNLEASHED FROM HER LAWYER'S GRASPS
user308: someone TAP CHARLES IN
user309: please you're out of the ferrari jail NOW IS THE TIME
charles_leclerc: you think i'm going to be offended that the most beautiful girl in the world has always wanted to be with me?
yourusername: what if i told you i'm a mastermind?
charles_leclerc: i would say i'm impressed and FLATTERED
yourusername: and now you're mine :P
charles_leclerc: and i'm glad
charles_leclerc: and i am of the serious belief that even if you didn't seek me out, we would've found each other regardless
yourusername: you made me believe in soulmates
maxverstappen1: @carlossainz55 this post really didn't do what you thought it would lOL
oscarpiastri: bro is falling at every hurdle
carlossainz55: yeah, yeah fuck you two. i'll see you on the track
maxverstappen1: if you can get close enough :P
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,783,088 others
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yourusername: siri play hoes mad
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user310: this girl is a bestselling poet and this is how she's captioning her instagram posts
user311: babe we're like months into a family war that has had whole ass court cases we don't need eloquent captions
oscarpiastri: where's that one tiktok audio
yourusername: that audio has gone platinum in our house, i think i've saved every edit with it and charles
charles_leclerc: they do slap every time
maxverstappen1: HOES MAD HOES MAD HOES MAD
yourusername: someone is enjoying this
maxverstappen1: i've been praying on these people's downfall since i was 17 i've got a fancy bottle of wine i've been waiting to open
yourusername: we've really been through the wars with these people
charles_leclerc: and ME
maxverstappen1: well here's to them being BROKE AS FUCK LOL
yourusername: cheers!
charles_leclerc: 🥂
user312: this has been some kind of crazy turn around
user313: considering we all thought they had broken up not long ago we have come SO far
charles_leclerc: i'd have the whole world mad at me if it kept you by my side
yourusername: i love you so much
user314: tbf i'd say a good 80% of people were mad at you when you were being ferrari's bitch
charles_leclerc: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY I'M SORRY
sebastianvettel: if it's any consolation, he was very torn up about it
yourusername: i know what happened charles, don't worry. i know you're dedicated to your craft and have people you want to win for
charles_leclerc: but i'm also dedicated to you
yourusername: we're in it together, forever now
yourusername: although this does mean ferrari have to deal with me now
user314: ugh they're so precious
carlossainz55: i'll have the last laugh don't you worry. you may have won the battle but you have not won the war.
user315: does this guy ever Shut the FUCK UP
user316: i'm bored. can't you just let them be happy
carlossainz55: no.
fin.
note: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but here she is, can't tell whether i love it or hate it - probably because i've been looking at it so long xx i guess p5 will be out hopefully some time soon and i hope my tagging works
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc social media au#guilty as sin?#astonmartinii
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"For Her, Always"
oneshot
Garrick Tavis x Riorson reader Request: Garrick x riorson little sister (she is a 2 year with Bohdi they are bff) they fell in love when they were little and now she is a rider but they hide what they feel to not upset Xaden, but the some guy flirts with her and we get MAD JELOUS Garrick and he hurts the guy on challenges, Xaden notices and they have a talk so then reader and Garrick can be together (Love confession Bridgerton style) wc: 6.8 ☆ no specific spoilers. Uses pronouns: she/her.
Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me
If there was one thing about Garrick Travis then it was that he was attractive, always had been- even when he was younger. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel something for him. And maybe, just maybe, I would have said something by now if it wasn't for the fact that he's best friends with my brother.
Xaden.
He has enough on his mind. Adding to that is the last thing on my mind. Even if that means I'll have to keep my feelings to myself. Even if that means my heart will keep yearning for what I can't have. At least I can still stare at him. From a distance, in the practice room. It's better than nothing I suppose.
"You're staring." Bodhi muzes next to me. I shoot a small glare his way as I continue to wrap my hands for sparring. "Am not." I respond tense.
Second year is more difficult and stressfull than it seemed. RSC hanging over my head. Xaden has done his part in preparing me but that didn't make it less terrifying and seeing as it's unpredictable when leadership would come and get us, well, that just makes it worse.
Not that I have seen a lot of Xaden lately, he's been occupied with a certain Sorrengail.
That thought brings me back to where I am. Xaden is training the youngest Sorrengail on one of the mats in the corners, Garrick not far away from them as he practices with his sword.
And I'd hate to admit it but I am staring.
After I finish wrapping my hands I stand and pick up my daggers. They had always been my preferred weapon. Light but easy to use.
I go through my usual warm up routine. Swinging them around. It's all going smoothly until I hear a voice call out. "Looking good, beautiful."
I glance toward the voice, only to find Oren—the overconfident third-year with a cocky grin plastered on his face—walking toward me. He’s twirling his sword as if to show off, his steps relaxed.
“Your technique’s good, but I think you’re missing something,” he says, a smirk on his face.
I raise an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “And what would that be?” He shrugs, a look of mischief appears in his eyes. “A partner. You know, someone to make things more… interesting.” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe someone who can keep up with you.”
I roll my eyes and focus back on my daggers, spinning one lazily between my fingers. “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks though.” I reply sarcastic, focusing back on my daggers. In the corner of my eye i catch Garrick's gaze.
But Oren doesn’t back down. “Come on, beautiful. You’ve got moves, but I bet I could teach you a thing or two. Maybe over a Meal?” His grin widens. I shake off the shiver that runs through my spine. An uncomfortable look on my face.
"Back off Oren." Bodhi's voice cuts through the tension. "She's already got someone to spar with." Bodhi's voice is on the cold side, almost as sharp as my brother Xaden's.
I give Bodhi a grateful smile as Oren retreats a step, his hands up in surrender. The smirk on his face is still present and I can tell he's not finished. For now maybe. But not forever.
♤
I stand by the surrounding crowd. All our eyes are on the mat, at the fight that is happening. It's a good match-- the matches before this one were a little meh but this one is actually good, we might be onto something.
The match ends after the second year taps out. From the corner of my eye I can see Garrick talking to Emmeterio. Why would he talk to him?
"Next match. Seifert and Travis." Emmeterio announces and my heart jumpes in my throat. That can't be a coincidence can it? Garrick against Oren not even a day after the small incident in the sparring room.
I can feel Xaden's eyes on me but I don't turn to face him. My eyes are solely on Garrick as he takes his place on the mat. His face holds the sole emotion of anger.
Oren charges first but Garrick side steps him, around his attack. Oren tries again but Garrick takes a hold of his arm, twisting it and Oren let's out a groan.
I can see Garrick say something to Oren but it's too quiet for me to hear. Garrick starts twisting his arm at an unnatural angle. He puts his leg between Oren's and he falls backwards on the mat. I knew Garrick was a good fighter but he's really good.
Garrick easily straddles Oren, a dagger at his throat and I wouldn't wish the look upon Garricks face to anyone. Not even my worst enemy.
He moves his dagger slightly, enough to draw blood but not enough to seriously injure him. I hold my breath at the sight. There is no way Garrick would actually kill him right?
He presses the blad harder against Oren's neck. I hear the familiar tap against the mat, he taps out. I let out the breath I'd been holding, Garrick slowly gets off him. He takes a step backwards, his dagger still in his hand.
I also take a step back, most people in this room night not know what this means but some do. I can feel bodhi's and Xaden's eyes in my back, burning holes.
I can see Xaden follow Garrick out of the sparring room and I don't hesitate to follow. I follow them quietly until they stop in a dark alley.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Xaden snaps at Garrick. His voice full of authority. I stay hidden behind the wall.
"He was flirting with her last night." I hear Garrick argue, frustration laced in his tone. "I'm aware of that. I saw it to but she can defend herself." Xaden voice grows bored.
"You're telling me you don't care that an asshole was flirting with your sister?" The frustration in his voice grows harsher.
“Of course I care,” Xaden snaps. “But I trust her to handle it. You, however, handled it as though you were issuing a challenge. That’s not protecting her—it’s claiming her.”
Garrick falls silent for a moment, his heavy breathing the only sound in the alley. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. My breath catches in my throat.
“You don’t get to do that unless you’re willing to back it up,” Xaden warns, his tone razor-sharp. “You don’t get to make her your responsibility unless she’s choosing you. So tell me, Garrick, what exactly are your intentions?”
There’s a long pause before Garrick speaks, but when he does, his voice is steady. “My intentions are to love her. To protect her. To be the one she can turn to for the rest of her life. If that’s claiming her, so be it. I’ve loved her for longer than I care to admit, and I’m done hiding it.”
I press my hand to my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatens to escape. Did he just say…?
“And what about her?” Xaden challenges. “Have you even thought about what she wants? Or is this just about you?”
“It’s about her,” Garrick snaps back. “It’s always been about her.” “Then maybe you should say something to her instead of throwing daggers at every man who looks her way,” Xaden retorts. “Because this whole display? It’s not going to win her over. Talk to her. And for both your sakes, stop making me the middleman.”
I hear footsteps retreating, the sound of Xaden walking away. My heart pounds as I realize I’m now alone with Garrick, hidden just around the corner.
I take a shaky breath, stepping out of the shadows. “You could’ve just asked me,” I say softly.
Garrick whirls around, his eyes wide with shock. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough,” I admit, stepping closer. “Is it true? What you said?”
He looks away, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter—” “It does matter,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “Because I’ve spent so long trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is one-sided. That you could never see me as anything more than Xaden’s little sister. And now you’re telling me that you… that you’ve felt the same way?”
His gaze snaps to mine, his expression a mix of hope and disbelief. “You… you feel the same?”
I nod, my chest tightening as the words spill out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Garrick. But I thought you’d never… I thought it wasn’t possible.”
He takes a step toward me, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. “You have no idea how hard it’s been, keeping my distance. Watching you with Oren last night, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“And today?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “On the mat?” “I wanted him to know,” he admits, his thumb brushing against my skin. “That you’re not just some girl to flirt with. That you’re… everything to me.”
I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes as I lean into his touch. “Then stop keeping your distance,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”
He doesn’t hesitate. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s both fierce and tender, years of longing and unspoken words pouring into that one moment. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re my everything,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
I smile, my heart lighter than it’s ever been. “You’ve already done enough,” I whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you try.”
♤
#garrick tavis x reader#garrick tavis#fourth wing#iron flame#onyx storm#the empyrean#xaden riorson#bodhi durran#xaden x reader#xaden riorson x reader
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Turns out I don't CARE. Have my big-ass Byler post:
Mike and El were never romantic. Let me explain. (Seasons 1-4)
Big Byler-centric Mike/eleven analysis from my slightly media literate ass.
(disclaimer: this is all just my opinion!!!!! you dont have to agree with me at all, and if you have any suggestions/edits or points you think are wrong for X Y Z reasons, tell me in the comments!!!! I like hearing other peoples views on things :D also my apologies if this doesnt read well, ive been sitting on it for a couple weeks now so ive been writing in little blips every once in awhile)
Season 1
From the beginning, Mike had pressures to be with El. He never began to exhibit romantic behaviours towards her until after Lucas suggested he has feelings for her. He only kisses her after Nancy assumes he has a crush on her.
Children, especially at such a young age, are impressionable. This applies to both Mike and El.
Mike is being told by multiple people in his life to pursue a romantic relationship with a girl he met only a week or so prior. A girl, mind you, he only wants to keep around when she proves herself useful to him when searching for Will. Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm pretty sure Mike calls her a machine at one point. Doesn't exactly seem like the basis for a crush, does it?
As for El, she's just escaped the lab she was raised in and has met the first people ever outside of that environment (excluding Benny, of course). I don't like comparing El to an animal, but she's reminiscent of a baby duck. Baby ducks imprint on the first people they see. For her, it's Mike. El does not have the same pressures from everyone else to be romantic with Mike, in fact she's quite ready to be his sister, as she so states. The only pressure of romance she gets is from Mike himself with the kiss.
There is one whole scene before they kiss that implies a bit of romance where there in a bathroom together and Mike says she's still pretty without hair + makeup. However, neither party really seems interested in it.
(Little thing to note about this scene! The use of the word pretty. It can be argued that Mike meant it romantically, but I'd say otherwise. In Stranger Things, specific words have meaning and we're told that they do. Think about the word crazy. Through lines in the show and posts from people who have worked on it, we know that crazy = love. Where am I going with this?
El calls Billy's mother pretty. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the word pretty hasn't been used anywhere else other than here and with El and Mike. We can safely assume El doesn't have feelings for Billy's mother, so if the assumption that crazy = love, can we assume that pretty does not have romantic connotations? Maybe it's a reach but I thought it was worth pointing out.)
All of this to say, in Season 1, their "relationship", and I use that word sparingly, is built off of pressures from Nancy and Lucas on Mike's side, and El assuming that's just what happens since it's what's happening to her. This is on top of the trauma bond El and Mike have.
Season 2
I think what solidified their decision was El going into the Upside Down. If all was well and El didn't have to leave the group and Season 1 was the whole story, I think their relationship would have played out very differently. Think about "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and all that bollocks. I think that because of the year apart and how much they missed one another, they became closer for it and mistook it for a romantic longing. That leads to their reunion in Season 2.
However, think about it. Typically with romantic couples in media and all it's different forms, when reunited after a long time being apart, they normally share a kiss? Or... at least just seem romantic?
Look, maybe it's just me, but this doesn't read as romantic.
Obviously, the two are bonded together, so the scene is emotional. I don't like when a lot of Bylers imply that Mike doesn't care about El at all, because he clearly does. The two have an incredibly strong bond due to trauma and just trusting one another. Doesn't mean it's romantic.
Then the Snow Ball. Not much to say on the matter because, yeah, I definitely think there is analysis to be done on it, but personally, this is a scene I don't have an explanation for. Other than Mike pining yearning and longing for Will.
(Very quick and not important thing to note. I started reading Darkness on the Edge of Town, Hopper's book, and it's set right after the Snow Ball, after Christmas, and I noticed something.
''You manage to raise Mike yet?'' El sighed ... He watched as she headed back to the couch and picked up the hefty rectangle of her new walkie-talkie, holding it out to him, like he could somehow conjure up her friends out of thin air.
Just thought it was interesting how Hopper mentioned Mike and then went on to say El's friends, considering this was after the Snow Ball and after their kiss.)
Fast forward to:
Season 3
In terms of El, this is where my view point of her romantic feelings becomes more disprovable, but I'm going to push forward anyway.
In the story now, everything is normal. No more monsters, the gate is closed, all is well and our kids can go back to being normal kids. Enter Mike Wheeler and El Hopper making out. Actually the most uncomfortable scenes to watch in the whole show. Let me talk about why it's happening.
Mike and Eleven, up until now, have not had your usual relationship. They've been seperate, battling monsters and have not had a moments peace since meeting. My opinion on why they're so close at the start of this season is because it's expected, same as most things about their relationship.
I know I sound like a broken record using that excuse for the majority of aspects about their relationship, but I'm doing it because the majority of aspects about their relationship can be explained with that reasoning.
For Mike, his attempt at living up to the expectations set for him is a lot easier to think about in terms of why he's doing it.
He was raised in your typical nuclear household, a mother and a father and 2 sisters. Think about the time period. The AIDs crisis was at a peak, there was a massive stigma around it all. I've spoken to my mum before about it all (she would've been the same age as the main 4 ST kids during that time) and she explained that there was this huge fear around AIDs. Being openly queer was not the norm, nor was it socially acceptable, nearly completely frowned upon. Films, TV and books portrayed romances about men and women and nothing else. Think about a young boy who has even the inkling that he might be gay. Everything at the time presented to this hypothetical boy tells him that he is wrong. Think about Will, his own father calling him slurs because he's not like every other boy.
Taking the assumption that Mike is in fact gay rather than bi or straight and placing him in the position of said hypothetical boy, what do you think the outcome would be? Because despite what some Milevens will say, it is not that Mike would accept himself fully and never would have dated El in the first place. It leaves us with a boy who is forced into a life of lying to himself and others, making moves to conceal his true identity in hopes of fooling other people and most importantly, fooling himself.
I am a firm believer that Mike suffers from compulsory heterosexuality, or comphet.
''Compulsory heterosexuality, often shortened to comphet, is the theory that heterosexuality is assumed and enforced upon people by a patriarchal, allonormative, and heteronormative society.''
I completely disagree when people say Mike used El as his beard (a person who is used, knowingly or unknowingly, as a date, romantic partner [boyfriend or girlfriend], or spouse either to conceal infidelity or to conceal one's sexual orientation) from day one. I believe that, while it may not be true, both parties did believe they shared romantic feelings for the other, because it was expected of them that they did. Mike, his whole life, saw his parents, kids at school, people in shows, games, everywhere, be a boy and a girl in love. And he met a girl. So, logically, he should like her. Right? But he doesn't. And because he's never had any past experiences, he can't tell the difference between romantic and platonic attraction. All he knows is what he's ''supposed to do.''
El is a bit easier to explain.
Think about the baby duck analogy from earlier. Mike is the first (technically second after Benny but shhhh) person out-with the lab to show her kindness. She has bonded to him, and Mike initiated a kiss between them. Romance is, obviously, not something she's ever dealt with in her life. It is a concept entirely foreign to her and it continues to be after her and Mike separate. So think, once she gets to Hopper's in Season 2, what is the only thing she has to entertain herself?
Television.
It can be pretty safely assumed she watched her fair share of trashy teen romcom movies as well as dramatic romance movies, all pieces of media that showed her the ''traditional'' route that a girl and a boy will take in their romantic journey. At this point, her and Mike have kissed, so in watching these movies, they teach her brain what are the ''natural next steps'' for her and Mike.
I don't think I'm explaining my point well, so if you need further clarification, let me know. It's difficult to explain but it's generally the same logic I applied to Mike (assuming he is, in fact, gay). His whole childhood, he see's boys and girls being in love and assumes thats what he should be doing. It's similar for El. She sees couples in love and being happy and assumes thats what her and Mike should be doing.
When you apply all this to Season 3, things become a little bit clearer in why they're so (uncomfortably) close. Their whole ''relationship'' was taken up with saving the world or saving each other and other people, this is the first time things are normal and they're expected to be, well... normal.
This really applies to the whole season. There are only 2 more key Mileven moments I want to touch on from this season which means I'll be excluding the rain fight. I'm doing this because while obviously the scene offers a huge insight into Mike's character, the focus this post is specifically around his and El's feelings about each other, so I want to focus on scenes in which they're together.
Now:
Oh boy! I'd like to point out 2 major points here.
One, just because Mike loves El, which I do not doubt at all, no where does he or the show specify that in this scene he meant it romantically.
Two, who are the only other couple that said the L-word?
Yeah.
Not only were Stancy the only other couple to say ''I love you'' to one another, they're the only other couple to use said ''I love you'' as a driving force in their relationship ark. And that driving force drove their relationship... into the ground!
We have multiple canonical couples in the show that have never uttered the L-word to each other but we have scenes between those pairs that leave no room for doubt about how they feel.
Just saying, it's interesting that arguably the biggest couple of the show are paralleled to one of the weakest and worst couples in the show. Meanwhile Mike and Will have parallels with Jonathan and Nancy, a couple which value one another and work better than Stancy could have ever hoped.
My last analysis about Season 3 is one of my favourite in terms of Mike.
El tells mike she loves him, and kisses him.
I'm sure every Byler has heard this scene been picked to pieces about Mike, so I'll keep it brief.
Mike has his eyes open, and as another user pointed out (I can't remember who, sorry!!), seems to be pulling away from the kiss, he is very clearly not kissing her back, and just seems... confused and disinterested. All great signs that he absolutely loves his girlfriend back, right? ...right?
As for El, cast your minds back to what I said before about her watching cheesy romcom movies. What is the most common trope in almost all romance movies? The big love confession. El knows Mike loves her (romantically or not is to be debated, I made my side clear) and her primary source of knowledge of what happens in relationships is through what she sees in movies and television, which in my mind is what lead her to give Mike this grand declaration of love (well, not grand, but you get the gist). In her mind, it is what's expected.
El is creating a relationship out of idealistic movies and (saying this very bluntly) has not stopped to consider if it's something she actually wants rather than what she thinks she wants. Obviously, I'm assuming a lot with that statement, but the evidence to back it up does exist.
Max is a wonderful influence on El during Season 3, teaching her to think for herself and be someone that she wants to be. And what is one of the first big decisions El makes during this journey? To break up with Mike. I'll concede in the fact that, yes, the breakup was influenced by Max's advice, but it's a decision El made herself, even if she ended up going back on it.
Time for Mike's gayest season of all!
Season 4
(I'm going to concede slightly here, I don't really know how to explain most of El's feelings here. So, this section is going to be centred around Mike's feelings towards El. Please drop some El analysis in my asks/DMs/comments to include and I'll make sure to credit you in the post!)
The season begins with a letter from El to Mike and we see him reading it. When called upon by Nancy, Mike crumples up El's letter and throws it to the ground. Compare this to all the letters Mike has sent El, kept away in a box. He's careless with her love, as it were. There's definitely more to be said here, but I'm more knowledgable with the rest of the season, so I'll focus on that.
Let's fast forward a bit to the airport scene.
We see Mike in unusual attire. Colours his character has never worn before in a style he's never been dressed in. Red flag number one. The two share the only kiss they have for the whole season and embrace, with Mike holding a bundle of flowers for El. She looks at the tag attached to said flowers, see's Mike writes from rather than love, and the camera focuses on her face while she falters.
There's a couple things to analyse here, so let's start with Mike's outfit.
One of El's primary colours in the show is purple, confirmed later on by Mike when he mentions he picked purple flowers since it's her favourite colour. This shows us the colour of Mike's shirt is intentionally supposed to reflect El, especially since he has never worn this colour before. Interesting to note that it's a t-shirt he's wearing, since Mike's wardrobe is composed of button downs, sweaters and polo shirt primarily. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the first time we've seen him in anything other than that.
Argyle points out later in the scene that Mike's shirt is a ''shitty knock-off.''
In a GQ interview with Stranger Thing's costume designer, we're told the following about Mike's costume in Season 4:
''So Mike Wheeler's outfit was written into the script that way... So we knew we'd wanted something that felt like an outfit maybe he would've bought at the airport before he got there... It's not a colour Mike normally wears.. We had made two colourways. We made orange and teal, and he's worn teal before, so it felt orange was the best colour that was different that felt he was trying to make it work in California.''
This is really interesting! There's another interview moment which ties in with this which I can't find at the moment so I can't quote it word for word, but I believe Finn says something along the lines of Mike acting unlike himself this season.
The costume choices in this scene are meant to reflect Mike's feelings.
When in California, more specifically when in this outfit, Mike is not acting like himself. He is trying to make things work by changing himself to be more attuned to what El wants, and more importantly, putting on a persona, arguably a heterosexual persona. Mike, of course, is not alone in the fact he's acting like someone else, because El is doing the same.
By choosing to omit the bullying and struggles she experiencing in Lenora, going so far as to outright lie to Mike by telling him Angela and Stacy are her friends, El is trying to act like the ''perfect girlfriend'' for Mike. She is presenting herself as happy, that her life is wonderful in all it's facets, in the hopes that Mike will finally begin expressing his love to her if she's good enough (I know that analysis does diminish El a bit, but it is my personal opinion on why she's acting the way she is.), as well as wanting to be the picture-perfect couple she wants them to be perceived as.
Of course, this vision shatters at Rink-O-Mania when El shmacks Angela in the face with a roller-skate. It's from this point on that their relationship falls downhill over the course of the whole season.
After they get home and everyone is eating dinner, Jonathan and Argyle speak about how Angela will be fine. Mike's reply is ''She didn't look fine'', and El storms off from the table. This scene is a parallel to one between Karen and Ted in Season 1(?) in which Karen storms off and Ted takes a sip of his drink, and Mike and El do the exact same.
Curious to parallel the shows ''leading couple'' with a failing marriage.
Then, we have Mike and El's big fight.
The fight starts on the basis of Mike mentioning the night before with Angela.
Mike knows that El has been lying to him for a long time about her life in Lenora and has seen first hand how she's been treated. He's upset and confused and El is shutting him off.
And... that's all I got done. I'll probably revisit this post in the future when I have time, but dear god, I have a lot of coursework right now, so now is not the time.
#byler#stranger things#will byers#mike wheeler#byler brainrot#byler endgame#byler tumblr#byler analysis#byler evidence#byler canon#byler is endgame#byler is canon#byler is real#byler nation#byler proof#byler s4#byler theory#byler st5#stranger things byler#gay mike wheeler#stranger things analysis
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LIES - M.F.
pairings meg/reader | friendswbenefits!lau | "__"= Y/N
sypnosis you’ve always liked megumi, but quickly learned that the only way you were going to be with him is if you gave your body in return. Or at least, that’s what you’ve presumed, until you end things with him for good.
word count 5.4k
warnings closed off meg, mommy!issues, pining, angst, heartbreak, depressing asf, nasty smut at the end, heavy tension, toxic! megumi, daddy kink!
a/n this is rlly long sry
© starkissedbaby 2025. do not repost, modify, or translate.
Megumi audibly clears his throat, his broad back facing you as you pulled on your sweater. "I have a lot of work to do so," he hints that he wanted you to leave. Your heart felt as if someone had gripped it and squeezed tightly before letting it fall into the pit of your stomach. "You drove here didn't you?"
"Uh..yeah," you lied, knowing damn well you took the bus. Tying on your shoes, you lift off the messy and crumpled up sheets from the activities you two had just finished, skin still sweaty and slick. "See you around then, I guess."
You don't see him nod as you hurry out his room, tears glistening in your eyes before making sure to shut the house to his front door apartment. For some stupid reason, you thought you could muster up the courage to ask him for a ride, or to let you spend the night. After all, the two of you had been hooking up for an entire year already, so you figured he'd have warmed up by now.
But no, Megumi had remained the same. Non-chalant and dry. The most he speaks to you is when he's teasing you while his cock drilled inside you, saying how adorable you looked being all filled up just for him. But it was only due to the heat of the moment; Megumi didn't actually mean it.
And always after, he would either ignore you, or give you hints that he wanted to be alone. As if nothing happened.
You were an idiot to think that would change, because now, you had to walk all the way back to your place, since you had taken the last bus here. You were sick of letting him use your body, taking advantage of the fact you had practically been in love with him since you were a first year. And now, you were both graduated, full on grown adults, who were both lonely when it came to their sex life.
The night winds were bitter and unforgiving. It took you about almost two hours to walk all the way back home. And to make things worse, you ended up getting a sore throat along with a plugged nose from being outside without much warmth.
"Hello?" You hold the phone to your ear, sounding like a completely different person due to your plugged nose altering your voice.
"I'd like to speak to _ _," Megumi mutters into the phone, making you almost let out a giggle. "Who is this?"
"This is _ _," you correct him, placing a hand on your hip. "You don't recognize my voice?"
There was a brief pause before his voice is heard.
"You sound different....are you sick?" You don't detect worry in his voice, just irritation.
"I'd rather you not come over tonight then. See you when you get better." The phone clicks.
Blinking in shock, you look down at the phone, realizing he truly did not give a single fuck about you. Scoffing, you put the phone down, and wonder why you even slept with him in the first place. You knew he was attracted to you since he always tossed full bodied glances with suggestive undertones towards you. Megumi had been a pretty straight-forward guy, who knows what he wants, and usually gets that thing or person.
But you were done letting him have you. This was the last straw.
And so you began to ignore his texts.
Megumi
hey you up?
sent at 2:08 am
delivered
you feeling better?
sent at 2:10 am
delivered
lmk.
sent at 2:13 am
delivered
The final message was sent a few days ago. Since the, radio silence had been blasted on both ends. You decided to focus on your school work and hanging out with friends, which should have been your main priorities anyways. Since you two started sleeping together, though, you sorta just locked yourself in your apartment until Megumi asked you to come over, isolating yourself from your loved ones.
But now, you were going to branch out, and live a life without the spikey raven haired man interfering every few nights—during the hours where no soul could witness the nasty things you two have done.
Growing up with Megumi living in the foster home down the street, you always noticed he was quiet and extremely reserved. But when someone had a problem with him, he made sure to stand his ground, and even sometimes beat up the street kids that would steal from the ones at the foster home. He was always tough, with an icy exterior that matched his eyes, that appeared frozen in time.
You were only twelve when you began to crush on the troubled boy. And until a year ago, he never noticed you.
It was after your nineteenth birthday. You had been walking home after having dinner with your family, when you spotted Megumi Fushiguro moving into his new apartment—which had been coincidentally right across the street from yours. You recognized the beautiful boy you had noticed walk home from school every single day. He still had the same spikey hair cut, but his shoulders were far wider than before, chest doubled in size with a much more brawny appearance.
And for the very first time, his eyes locked with yours.
Like you said, when Megumi wanted something, he usually went for it. You walk over to him, hands shaking at your sides, and he watches you cross the street light, purple sun dress blowing in the breeze. It was as if a permanent frown had been etched onto his face; lips pressed together firmly. Intimidated, you squirm under his gaze. "Hi, I...it looks like you're my neighbor."
His stormy hues do a slow sweep of your body before his brow raises. "Megumi Fushiguro."
Until now, you hadn't known his name. And it suited him perfectly.
"I'm _ _ _ _," you offer a small smile, which made his eyes flicker. "You need any help moving in? I can help with a few boxes if you'd like." You had decided it was better not to mention that you've seen and watched him like a stalker for the past seven years.
Once you followed him into his apartment, the smell of freshly coated painted walls making you a bit dizzy, you follow Megumi into his room and placed the boxes down. The next thing you knew, his hands were on your ass while you were still bent over, lips brushing against your ear. "Would you like to stay a bit longer?"
But that was the last. Everything was going fine.
Sure, you were depressed, but you could deal with it yourself. You didn’t need him.
Until you had a bad day.
Now..you needed him now.
Your job had been demanding for your manuscript, and when you still couldn't deliver, they threatened to give your position to a recent new hire named Yachi. And well, you wouldn't even blame them, since you were so insolent and nascent minded.
No number of cigarettes could make you feel better like Megumi could, even if it only lasted for an hour. It was better than not getting him at all. You were like an addict, not really feeling too keen on walking, so you went ahead and took your car this time. Within a few short minutes, the familiar complex of where he lived pops into view.
You knock on his front door, hands slightly trembling at their sides. And when the door swings open, a girl with pretty blue eyes and dark red hair flutters her thick lashes at you, hair messy and cheeks flushed. "Dammit I said I got it-" you hear his familiar voice growl out before he stands before you.
His eyes had been dark as usual, hair looking as if it had been tugged by the girl who was much smaller than him. You couldn't help but notice how she looked nothing like you. "_ _," he says with slightly widened eyes, his jaw tightening. "What are you doing here? I thought-"
This could not have been happening.
"I shouldn't have come," you shake your head, forcing out a laugh so that you didn't cry in front of him. His eyes flash but he remains still and doesn't reach for you. "Bye, Megumi."
And then you turn around, walking away, deleting his number off your phone as you went down the steps towards your car. It was clear you were only ever a form of release to him. You were replaceable. He slept with you because you were easy, and you let him because you genuinely liked him and thought he’d change.
You realize how foolish you’d been.
You don't realize you're in love with someone until they hurt you.
It felt as if your heart had been connected by strings, and Megumi Fushiguro had been the one controlling them. You loathed each day that passed, knowing that he had continued his life, and ironically paused yours. It felt as if the world had stopped rotating, grieving who you once were. You were someone that loved him for years, from a distance, then in his bed, then back to being nothing but a stranger to him.
You were gutted from the inside and out. Empty and hollow inside. You two clarified that you both had only been sleeping with one another, but that didn't mean you were irreplaceable either.
Ice cream and your favorite television series. That is what helped you as you wallowed for days in your room. You were sure it had been at least a week, calling out of work and saying you had some contagious flu. You couldn't write your manuscript, couldn't get Megumi to care for you, couldn't get anything right.
You were at rock bottom.
In the series, one of the characters slurps up a ramen, causing you to crave the food. So you pull on an oversized hoodie that had the least amount of stains, grab your keys, and drive to the nearest gas station. The clerk had been asleep, snoring on the counter, who was an old balding man. Your arrival wakes him up, "Welcome in!"
"Thank you," you say quietly before heading straight for the ramen section. Your slippers scuff against the floor as you rounded the corner and entered the aisle.
No fucking way.
Of fucking course.
Megumi fucking Fushiguro was standing at the end, right next to your favorite ramen, examining the ingredients to a tea box. Wearing a dark blue long sleeve and black sweats. He had been working out, because you memorized every part of his body, and knew that he wasn’t this big before.
Your hair was oily, deep bags growing under your eyes, face all gaunt from lack of eating. Standing up like this, feeling all this adrenaline, was really starting to get to you. Feeling a bit lightheaded, you decided to just turn around and go somewhere else. As soon as your back is facing him, you hear his gruff voice say your name.
“_ _?”
It was like time had stopped. You were pathetic. Turning around with wide eyes, the frown on his face deepens as he assesses you. “You look different,” he comments while tilting his head. “Are you on a diet? You’ve lost some weight.”
In contrast to his words, he himself looked great. As usual.
You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He had no idea the effect his actions had on you. How devoted you were to him, mind and soul. How heartbroken you were over him. Megumi wasn’t as intelligent as you thought.
Or he simply knew, and just didn’t care.
Anger has boiled your veins as you believed the latter. He had to have known your lingering looks on him, or how you rushed over to him whenever he needed you. Or well—needed your body. It was as if he had been mocking you, for needing him to function, and doing his every bid to make him feel cared for.
“We’re not friends, Fushiguro. So don’t pretend we are.” Your voice was calm as you made sure to look into his eyes. He blinks in response as you turn around and storm out the store, a tear rolling down your cheek.
The cigarette between your fingertips had been almost fully burnt off. You were sick of trapping yourself in the apartment over someone who couldn't give a rats ass about you. However, the nights were becoming shorter. You stopped waking up in the middle of them, reaching for your phone out of habit, and looking for a number that didn't exist anymore since you had deleted it.
But now, you just felt used. Megumi knew for a fact that you were barely clinging onto your sanity. You didn't even know he had this much of an effect on you, but apparently he did.
"You look like death," Itadori, your best friend, lets you know with a twisted face. "Seriously, _ _, why are you killing your self over some guy?
Smacking him upside the head, he rubs the spot before grumbling. "If you want me to help you dye your hair still then shut up, Dori," you hiss through gritted teeth before taking another hit. "-and he wasn't just some guy okay? He isn't like other guys and that's why it hurts."
His light brown eyes study you as your eyes water. "I don't even know why I'm crying-" you furiously wipe at your eyes. "He just isn't like anyone else. Seven years, Dori. Seven years I've wanted him, and then when I was finally successful, I let him slip from my fingers. Have you ever wanted someone so bad..that you felt like you were going to die without being with them? That you constantly worried about dying because you knew you'd never see them again?"
He's wearing an empathetic gaze, but was also uncomfortable, "Sorry-I dunno what to do in these types of situa-"
"Just Pat my back dammit!" You sob into your hands, your hormones probably out of control because of your period. He listens and begins full on punching your back with closed fights, making leading you to wince and smack him due to the shooting pain now shooting up your spine. "I said pat...not break, idiot!"
"It's not my fault you're all skin and bones," he defends with his hands up, stumbling on his words. "Why don't we just go get some food? That always makes me feel better. And if you want-you can talk about it some more. But I do charge per hour—"
Itadori is wearing a lopsided smile as you strike his arm, "You're so abusive!"
"Pretty sure animal abuse is okay in this case."
"Take that back," he scowls as you both begin walking towards the ramen shop down the street. You let out a small laugh, cheeks trying, as he pulls out some skittles from his green hoodie pocket. "Why're you eating that when we're about to go eat?"
He throws one in his mouth, smacking and chewing it obnoxiously as your eyes roll. "It boosts your metabolism to snack on things throughout the day. I saw it in a Whole Foods commercial one time." His tone is confident as you both walk down the hill, passing by small shops and stores. All the lampposts had been turned on due to the late hour, but there had been lots of people out.
"I think the hair dye it getting to your brain," you tease with a smirk.
His mouth set in a hard line before he smacks you on the arm this time, a dull pain residing on the area. "Weren't you just crying over-Hey is it just me or is that guy like glaring at me.” He points to behinds you near the entrance of the ramen place. Megumi had been leaning against the brick wall, cigarettes between his lips, talking to some tall guy with platinum blonde strands who wore black shades. And beside them two, was a pretty girl with short brown copper colored hair, who looked at you with a raised brow.
And Itadori was right. Megumi had one hand shoved into his pocket, wearing a rigid and hardened expression, smoke exhaling through his nose. The look made your stomach swirl, a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time from him.
“That’s Megumi.”
Itadori’s eyes bulge, “That’s him? Shit-now I see why you’re so hung up on him. He really doesn’t look like other guys,” he places his hands on his hips, nodding approvingly. “He’s a good looking guy. Nice physique too.”
“Yeah well, he’s also an asshole,” you snatch him by the collar before shoving him. “You’re supposed to make me feel better-not worse! Now c’mon.” Your best friend almost trips as you drag him by his ear into the Ramen shop, him letting out whines and shouts.
The hostess sends you both a concerned look, a short cute girl wearing a high bun and a black uniform. Letting go of him, you both smile in unison, masking fake polite voices.
“For two please!”
Itadori slides into a booth across from you, eagerly picking up the menu as his eyes sweep across it. You tapped your leg beneath the table, not paying attention to the food on the paper in your hands. The bell dings signaling a new party, your eyes dismissively glancing at the door.
"Are you serious?"
Itadori doesn't look up as he hums, "I know right. I can't believe their takoyaki balls are so cheap!"
You make eye contact with Megumi as his blonde friend flirts with the hostess, who is blushing as she guides them to their table. And just to your fucking luck, she sits at the one right beside you two, to probably make it easier for the server since you were both the only tables in there. He continues to stare as you kick Itadori beneath the table, "He's right there," you hiss. "We have to go."
His forehead creases with wrinkles, "But I'm hungry," he whines, earning an irritated look from you.
"Wasn't this supposed to make me feel better?" You spat as the waiter walks up with two waters, introducing themselves, then taking your orders. Itadori ends up ordering the pork shoyu, and with a pissed expression, you just order the same before he collects your menus and leaves. "So it looks like we're staying," he folds his arms with a smirk. "You should stop running from him and just face the fact that you're gonna run into him sometimes, _ _."
For the entire time, Megumi's fierce eyes kept meeting yours. The blonde man and the girl kept bickering as he quietly ate his ramen, only looking up when he wanted to look at you again. You hardly touched your shoyu as Itadori downs his eight takoyaki balls and slurps down his ramen in one swig. By the time he finished, you were zoned out, staring at your legs as you wished this night would just end. "You didn't eat your food."
"He keeps looking at me," you sigh, swirling the straw in your water. "I can't function when he's looking at me. Ugh—I hate my body."
Itadori wipes his face with a napkin, "haven't you stopped to wonder why he keeps looking at you?" When you blinks at him, he continues with an eye-roll. "He's still interested in you, dummy. Guys don't just look at girls they're over. You should talk to him."
That was a horrible idea. If you spoke to him, then all the feelings would come crashing back, and you couldn't have that. "I can't talk to him."
"Why not?"
"It's too hard-and I'm not strong enough." You stand up, shaking your head. "I'm going to the bathroom."
Itadori sighs and leans back in his seat as he watches you leave. You follow the restroom sign and open a door, which led to a narrow hallway with the bathroom at the end. After you finish doing your business, you splash water on your face, and leave the tiny room.
Megumi is leaning against the wall once again, picking up his head when he hears the door shut. You were both in the hallway alone, which scared you even more. "We need to talk," he declares with a set tone. "Well-I have a few things to say and I was hoping you'd listen."
Holding your arms, you only continue to sent him a dirty look as he rubs the back of his neck. "Look..I know I'm not a good guy. I never treated you the way you deserved and I understand that. I hated you-and it wasn't your fault."
You swallow thickly, "Hated me? Is that what you wanted to-“
"Just shut up and let me finish," he growls out, cutting you off. He collects himself before continuing, "I hated you for how you made me feel. You were kind and genuine to me, even when I didn't deserve it. You made me feel like someone cared-“
“Because I did!” You seethe out, losing your patience. “I cared about you so much, Megumi. And you knew that. And you’re right, I don’t deserve how you treat me. It took me weeks to leave my bed because of you. Because of the idea-that you laid with someone else that quickly just didn’t make any damned sense to me.”
“We weren’t exclusive,” he reminds roughly. “You’re hope and the way you take care of me-I couldn’t deal with it anymore.”
You glare at him.
“I hate you, Fushiguro.”
“No you don’t,” he steps forward, pinning you against the grimy wall. “You don’t hate me, _ _. You just told me you liked me.”
The smell of mint and pine. It intoxicated you.
No.
No.
“Liked,” you shove him, tears glistening your eyes. His face straightens as he watches you fall apart. “I liked you. And now—“ you let out a strained laugh, shaking your head at him.
“I can’t even look at you.”
His eyes were narrowed as your fists balled at their sides. You memorize his face one last more before turning around and walking back into the main room of the restaurant, past Itadori’s table, the pink haired boy running after you as you stormed out the shop.
Someone was knocking on your door.
You rub your eyes, swinging open the door to your apartment to find the tall blonde guy, Megumi's friend, holding the midnight haired boy's arm over his shoulder, his sunglasses ditched revealing a pair of vibrant cerulean shades hues.
"Hi, I'm Gojo," he offers you his free hand with a charming smile. You shake it with a confused look as he gestures to Megumi, whose eyes were heavy-lidded as if he was on something. "I would say it's lovely to meet you-buttttt this kid is being a pain in the ass at the moment and kinda it's your fault."
This friend of his had some nerve. He wanted to dump the man who broke your heart onto your front door step, and was sassing you in the process? Blinking, unamused, the man then waltzes into your apartment before tossing his friend onto the couch. "Hey-you both need to
leave now."
"Look," Gojo says and points at Megumi groaning, who attempts to sit up, but then falls back down onto the cushions. "That man is the saddest excuse of a person I've ever seen at this moment. And I can't watch him any longer, not when I've got things to do and places to be. And by that, I mean in my own home..sleeping."
Before you could get a word in, he nods, and walks towards the door. "It was a pleasure to meet you. Lovely home by the way," he smiles wolfishly and shuts the door behind him.
How the hell were you supposed to get over someone that was sprawled out all over your coach?
Sitting at the edge of the cushion, you look at his fluttered shut eyes, mouth slightly ajar. He looked so angelic when he wasn't wearing that horrid frown he always rocked.
His fingers twitch, before his eyes snap open. You blink as he stares for a moment, before lurching forward and wrapping his string arms around your waist, and pulling your head onto his chest. A gasp escapes you as his fingers smooth down your hair, eyes shutting again, at the feeling of holding you.
The dam broke.
All the feelings came crashing back in.
The world began to rotate again.
Megumi was...holding you in his arms.
God, you missed his warmth so much. He smelled like that one cologne you loved, his hand pushing the back of your head further into his chest. The feeling was nostalgic and comforting. You had craved this-for weeks.
You wondered what had been going through his mind, but when you heard his soft snores, you knew he had passed out. Examining his features, you never noticed how fair he truly was, skin similar to a sheet of paper. And his lashes, they were so thick and dark.
Your own eyelids grew heavy, falling asleep in his arms.
When you had awoken, Megumi was gone, almost as if he had never been there. Which didn't shock you. You always took care of him, but he never thanked you. It was expected but never appreciated.
You felt empty.
Standing to your feet, you go to the freezer and pull out chocolate ice cream, staring at the counter and wondering why the hell this process was so damn painful. Picking at the sweet frozen dessert, you slump over the counter, already missing the way you felt as Megumi held you close to him.
Footsteps pad into the kitchen, "You're eating ice cream for breakfast?"
A wave of shock and confusion paralyzes you as he opens the fridge and pulls out the orange juice. "Sorry about last night. I drank way too much and just finished throwing it all up," he rasps as you watch him pour the liquid into a mug he pulled out the cupboard. "How did you sleep?" He questions while bringing the cup to his lips and sips it as if he lived here and this was a normal routine.
Completely forgetting about the ice cream, sit there and stare at him in disbelief.
Megumi draws his brows together, "What?"
"I thought you left."
His jaw tightened, "Well-I could have. But I didn't." He says quietly before looking away and continuing to sip his juice.
"I don't understand."
"Dammit _ _," he slams the cup down onto the counter and splashes it over the counter, but his sharp eyes stay focused on mine. "I'm trying to do something different. I'm trying to show you that-I'm sorry. That I want to..change for you." His words were a slap to the face as Megumi runs a hand through his hair. "I thought of you when I slept with her _ _. She didn’t make me feel like you do-because they don't compare to you. No one compares to you."
He looked wrecked. Eyes dimmed from his hungover, lips tense and curled. "I noticed you all those years ago," He adds on, making your breathing halt. "I know you never mentioned it because you probably thought I never noticed you-but I did. I liked you for so long..but was too scared to ever talk to you. Kinda like now." He chuckles wryly, stepping forward. "I have issues-when it comes to loving someone-because no one's ever loved me before. Not like you."
He's standing a few feet away from.
"Say something _ _."
Your eyes had been clouded in a haze.
He liked you too.
He noticed you.
It was never one sided.
"You like me-don't you?" You ask in a hushed tone.
Megumi's features tighten as he nods slowly.
You reach forward, grabbing his face, and collide your lips with his. He breathes in sharply at your taste. "Show me then," you plead out as you fumble with his hoodie whilst he slid his hands beneath your sweater to roam them around freely,
"Show me how much you missed me, Meg."
And he does.
It took a moment for Megumi to take initiative, but when he heard those words, something snapped within him. Your sweater had been torn from your body, leading you to gasp, but the man towering over you swallows it before doing the same to your bra. “Fuck-“ he curses as you deepen the kiss, fighting your tongue with his warm one.
“Yes!” You moan out as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, a fining sensation flooding your heat from the action. Your hands weave into his strands as you push his head, “Need you-Meg. Please-“
“It looked you missed me,” his words are muffled by the flesh of your tit as he pinches the other one, making your back arch. And then he’s kissing you messily again, “Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” his fingers roam the waistband of your sweats. “Want me to taste this delicious cunny?”
Fuck-you really did. But at the moment, you wanted him to hold you, to fuck you raw until you couldn’t walk. So to answer him, you palm the thick boner beneath his sweats. “Need you inside,” you gasp out, looking into his eyes.
His pupils were blown as you push him towards the counter, hurrying out of your own pants. Megumi takes the hint and chuckles, “What? You want to ride me, precious? Is that it?”
“Yes,” you nod, your mind cloudy from pleasure. “Want to make you feel good Meg.”
His smirk widens, “Then go ahead,” he pulls down his own pants, revealing his thick cock springing up, mushroom shapes rip shaded a scarlet red. And then he’s laying on the counter. You practically rush over and climb on top of him, hands pressed against his clothed chest. “Go on pretty girl,” he reassures, strong hands firmly holding your hips. “Sink down on Daddy’s cock.”
He was looking up at you with heavy-lidded blissed out eyes. You felt so powerful, to have him waiting for you, being submissive. With a determined look, you grab his cock, his familiar heaviness sending another wave of arousal down to your cunt, ad place the tip at your soaking folds. You’re scared he’s going to hurt, since it’s been a while, and contemplate on doing a different positi-
“I. Said. Sink.” He growls out behind gritted teeth before listing his hips and shoving his entire length into your pussy. “There we gooo,” he hums, your eyes rolling back from how good he felt, body turning into jelly on top of him as he ruts into you at a bruising pace.
He was never going to let you be in control. Megumi was not that kind of guy.
Cries and whines garbled together flee from your trembling lips as his hands land on your ass, hungrily fucking you as if it was his dying mission. “Feel so fucking good-“ Megumi groans into your ear, his cologne flooding your senses as your face is shoved into his chest with his one hand, the other on your hip to force you to sink on his cock with every thrust.
“Fuckin’ love you-“
Your confession causes him to lift your head and smash his lips against yours in hot open mouthed kisses. “Cum for me baby,” he angles his hips to hit that one spot that makes you see stars. “Show me that cute little face you make-there it is.”
Scrunching your features, you let out a high pitched moan that Megumi swallows, as your pussy clenches and contracts around his cock as your high overtakes you. And then he’s finishing with you, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you roll your hips, wanting to milk everything he had to offer.
When you’re both panting and breathless, you aim to get off him, but his hands glue to your hips. “Stay on,” he says quietly-looking up at you with his hair in his eyes. “Come here,” he wraps your arms around your waist and pulls you in, hugging you whilst his cock staid inside.
He-was holding you.
Brushing your hairs away from your face, Megumi then traces your features with his forefinger.
“I…think I love you too.”
#megumi fushiguro smut#megumi x y/n#megumi x you#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi x reader#megumi imagines#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#megumi smut#megumi fushiguro fics
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Let's Play Pretend - 8 | bodyguard!Bucky
Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader
Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.
PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , END.
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
"Your manager—I smell death on her," Bucky said, his voice low and serious.
You scoffed. "Stop kidding."
"I'm not." His eyes locked onto yours, unwavering. "When I was in jail, I met a lot of people. Murderers and innocent people—they have different smells."
You raised a brow. "So, what? You have a super nose now? Like a drug-sniffing dog?"
Bucky smirked. "Yeah, I’m Scooby-Doo." But despite his teasing, his expression remained tense, as if he could actually smell something rotten lingering around Selena.
You tried to hold back a laugh. "Pfft."
Ignoring your amusement, he continued, "While I’m gone, I want you to stay with Vert."
Your smile faded. "Wait—you’re leaving? And stay with my boss? Why?"
"I’m doing an investigation, that means I'm going to leave you alone. And Vert have bodyguards." His tone was firm.
Bucky leaned back slightly, tilting his head. "I noticed them. Strong ones, probably ex-military." He smirked. "But I’m stronger."
You nodded slightly. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right.
"Why are you telling me to stay with Vert?" you asked, your voice quieter now.
Bucky took a step closer, his gaze darkening. "I have a feeling I’m dealing with an obsessive psychopath."
A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard.
He moved even closer, lowering his voice. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you while I'm gone. If it does, Vert’s guards can use their bodies to block bullets and knives while you run."
Your stomach twisted at the thought. "You really think it’s that dangerous?"
Bucky nodded. "I’ve seen this before. I know what I’m talking about."
You hesitated before asking, "Have you found any clues?"
He exhaled through his nose. "Not yet, but I will. Clues always show up when you least expect them. Just like how Scooby always finds the answer."
You tried to lighten the mood. "Guess that makes me Shaggy?"
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Don’t follow any strangers, Shaggy."
You met his gaze and nodded. "I know."
Something had shifted between you. A deeper trust. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you could feel it.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
Bucky felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he dropped you off at Mr. Vert’s house. Knowing you were safe, surrounded by armed guards, made it easier for him to focus. The night air was cool as he pulled his hood over his head and blended into the streets, heading toward the police station.
His destination wasn’t the front entrance—walking in there would raise too many questions. Instead, he took a side alley, knocking on a rusted metal door. A few seconds later, it cracked open just enough for a pair of sharp blue eyes to peer out.
“Hey, Bucky.”
The man who greeted him was Steve—a familiar face from his time behind bars. Steve had changed a lot. The once-skinny man, malnourished from years of rationed prison food, now stood as tall and built as Bucky. Prison had hardened them both, but Steve had taken a different path after getting out.
He had rebuilt himself, cleaned up his record, and taken a job as a criminal profiler. Meanwhile, Bucky had retired—well, until now.
“I need your help,” Bucky said, his tone sharp and to the point.
Steve smirked knowingly. “It’s about your girlfriend, isn’t it? You’re a lucky man.” He sipped his coffee, watching Bucky’s reaction.
Bucky flinched at the word girlfriend. He hated how people kept assuming that. It made him uneasy.
“Yeah, yeah…” he muttered, brushing it off.
The two men started walking. Strolling into a police station and casually flipping through case files wasn’t an option, so they took a quieter route, heading toward a nearby park.
Steve glanced at Bucky from the side. “But you know what? You deserve something good. Back in prison, you always looked after me… and the others.”
Bucky let out a short breath, his expression unreadable. “That place was hell.” He kicked a stray rock on the sidewalk. “But look at us now—breathing fresh air… mixed with the smell of piss.”
Steve snorted before breaking into a laugh. Bucky smirked, shaking his head as they continued walking.
They reached the park, settling onto a bench beneath a flickering streetlamp. Steve leaned back casually, but his hand moved subtly, slipping a thin manila folder onto Bucky’s lap.
Bucky flipped it open, his eyes scanning the documents. As he read, his jaw tightened.
His suspicions were right.
“This is the missing piece,” he muttered, flipping to another page. “I knew it.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.”
Bucky exhaled through his nose, his voice low. “The assistant. She’s the culprit.”
Steve frowned. “Selena, right? She’s been on the suspect list, but there’s no strong evidence.”
Bucky shut the folder, gripping it tightly. “I can help you catch her. But we don’t have time to wait.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I need you to send a patrol car to her location. Now.”
Steve studied him for a moment before nodding. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and started making the call.
At that moment, Bucky’s own phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
A text from you.
S.O.S.
His blood ran cold.
His grip on the phone tightened, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Without another word, he bolted from the bench, his instincts screaming that he was already too late.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
Staying in Mr. Vert’s condominium felt safe, just as Bucky had assured you. The place was heavily guarded—bodyguards stationed at every corner, their sharp eyes scanning for any possible threat. If someone tried to harm you, they wouldn’t get far.
Yet, despite the security, you couldn’t shake the tension in the air.
It wasn’t fear of an attack. It was something else—the awkwardness of being in the same room with your boss.
You took a breath and finally spoke. “Sorry to bother you.”
Vert glanced at you from his seat, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. His expression, as always, was unreadable.
“I don’t show it,” he said smoothly, “but I care for my employees.”
You hesitated before saying, “Mr. Vert… this might sound crazy, but I feel like you and Bucky are… similar.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Oh?”
“The arrogance, the cockiness—both of you have it,” you pointed out.
Vert smirked, amused.
“But more than that… the way he plays guitar.” You grabbed your phone and pulled up the recording of your last performance—the one where Bucky had unexpectedly replaced your guitarist.
Vert leaned forward slightly, watching the screen. The way Bucky’s fingers moved across the strings, the fluidity, the confidence—it was eerily familiar.
If someone looked up his background, his success as a savvy businessman would overshadow his past. He didn’t use a sad background story to boost his public image. He started as a guitarist, then became a composer, later a manager, and eventually decided to build his own music label.
Vert exhaled through his nose. “Hoo… interesting observation.”
“It’s just a guess,” you admitted.
“Play the live show,” Vert instructed.
You tapped the screen, and the two of you watched the footage together.
Bucky played like he had been part of the band all along. No hesitation, no mistakes.
“It could be,” Vert mused. “There’s a possibility. I didn’t know he could play guitar.”
You nodded. “That makes two of us. When I asked him about it, he just said—”
“I don’t know. Whenever I grab a musical instrument and copy the teacher, I can easily follow it. Maybe my birth parents were geniuses. But hey, I’ll never know.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“Does that mean you watched my performances?” you had asked him.
“I have to understand more about my client, right?” he had replied.
It's amazing how Bucky mentioned his birth parents as if it meant nothing, while you pretended that everything with your parents was fine, when in reality, it was far from it.
Vert tilted his head. “Strange talent.”
“I thought so too,” you murmured.
Then you remembered what else Bucky had said.
Vert leaned back. “Back in the ‘80s, the hippies were wild. No one could tame my generation. The parties, the drugs—unlimited.” He smirked, but there was a hint of something darker beneath it. “And I always woke up in bed with different women.”
You weren’t sure how to respond to that.
“I read that Bucky’s an orphan.” Vert hummed, swirling the whiskey again. “Wouldn’t hurt to get a DNA test.”
Instead, you changed the subject. “By the way, about Selena…”
Vert arched a brow. “Hmm?”
“How was she as your new manager?”
You hesitated before adding, “The thing is… I don’t feel comfortable around her. And I have this gut feeling that she sabotaged my last performance.”
Vert studied you for a moment. “So… you want to fire her.”
“Yes,” you said firmly.
He nodded. “I’ll make it official tomorrow.”
Relief washed over you. “Thank you.”
Vert smirked. “Like I told you… I may not look like it, but I care.”
Before you could respond—
The lights suddenly went out.
The entire condominium was plunged into darkness.
Your heartbeat spiked.
The room fell into eerie silence, save for the faint humming of emergency power trying to kick in.
Your hands tightened around your phone.
A bad feeling settled in your chest—worse than before.
Your fingers flew across the screen as you quickly typed out a message to Bucky.
S.O.S.
This time, you didn’t doubt it—something was very, very wrong.
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My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing is FREE on Kindle for a few days. Check it out!
Link for Arrogant Ex-Husband
Amazon.com
Link for Dad I Can't Let You Go
Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky barnes au#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#buckybarnes#bodyguard!bucky barnes#bodyguard au#bodyguard romance#romance#marvel au
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Been wanting to do some updated character model sheet thingies for my ongoing longfic The Avatar and the Fire Prince, so here they are! :) Up until now I'd only drawn Zuko and Aang, but I thought it was about time I added Iroh and the Water Tribe siblings to the lineup as well. Right now all I've done this for is Books 1 & 2, but I really want to get started on the Books 3 & 4 versions so I can add Toph and Suki (and possibly Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee) to the lineup!
As usual, for anyone who has not read my fic but is curious about the premise: this is an AU in which Zuko and Iroh discover Aang in the iceberg just 3 months after Zuko is burned and banished at age 13 in 96 AG, 4 years prior to the return of Sozin's Comet. It is also an enemies to best friends to lovers slowburn in which Zukaang is endgame (since Aang was released from the iceberg 3 years early in this AU, he is only one year younger than Zuko). This fic is heavily based in canon, so I try my hardest to ensure that everything is canon-compliant at least when it comes to lore and character behavior despite the different circumstances.
Book 1: Air's premise: after finding and capturing Aang, Zuko and Iroh are forced to escape with him on Appa when Zhao interferes with their plans to return to the Fire Nation. This Book focuses on Aang desperately searching the Air Temples for any remnants of his people he can find, dragging Zuko and Iroh along in the process. Eventually, Zuko starts to question everything he was raised to believe, while Iroh is forced to face the mistakes of his past.
Book 2: Water begins with Aang, Zuko, and Iroh traveling to the South Pole after Aang starts to have recurring nightmares about an impending attack on Wolf Cove (Sokka and Katara's village), and eventually follows my adaptations of several storylines from canon Book 1 before ending with the Siege of the North in Agna Qel'a. During this Book, Zuko begins to realize his feelings for Aang are more than friendship, while Aang remains oblivious (lol).
Book 3: Earth is the Book I am currently working on (the most recent chapter was my adaptation of "Avatar Day") and so far follows Aang, Zuko, Iroh, Katara, and Sokka as they search for an earthbending teacher for Aang - so far, it has followed the general canon plot of Book 2, though of course, as always, there are differences due to this being an AU. No spoilers, but I have some really interesting things planned for this Book, particularly as we get closer to the Ba Sing Se arc. I also have a lot of fun stuff planned for the Zukaang romance in this Book.
Book 4: Fire will be the last Book of the fic, and will of course revolve around the Gaang in the Fire Nation. This is all I will say for now since I don't want to spoil the plans I have for the previous Book (which will heavily influence what happens in Book 4, obv).
When I finally finish this fic (I'm about halfway through at 33/65 chapters), I plan to start writing a direct sequel that adapts the events of the comics, as well as a Korrasami-focused Legend of Korra rewrite fic that is set in the same AU as TAatFP.
#my art#my fic#atla#atla au#avatar the last airbender#avatar the last airbender au#the gaang#atla fan art#aang#zuko#sokka#katara#iroh#zukaang#zukaang au#zukaang fanfic#zuko x aang#aang x zuko#enemies to friends to lovers#the avatar and the fire prince#taatfp
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all tied up {part 1}
Pairing: Yunho x f reader
Genre: angst, eventual smut
Word count: 10.5k
Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?
Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)
A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts (please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)
Read part 2 here
Read it on ao3
"Morning."
Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you.
"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk.
It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings.
The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.
"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.
"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.
You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.
From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.
"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.
"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.
Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?
He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.
The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.
Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.
"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.
"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.
"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.
"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."
"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.
Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?
"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."
"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.
"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again.
"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.
"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.
"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.
"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.
"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair. Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.
The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.
Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.
"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.
"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.
"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"
"That is not tru-"
"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"
"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"
"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.
"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"
"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."
"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.
"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.
"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.
"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"
"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."
"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"
"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.
"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.
"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.
"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.
"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.
"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."
"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.
"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.
"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.
"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"
"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"
"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.
"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.
"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.
"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.
"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.
"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.
"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."
You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.
"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.
You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.
"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.
"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.
You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.
"What happened?" she whispers.
"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.
And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.
"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.
"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.
"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.
"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.
"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.
"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.
"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.
"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.
"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.
"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure.
"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.
"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered.
"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.
Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"
"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.
You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.
And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.
"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."
Well, fuck.
He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?
Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.
A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.
After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.
Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.
Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.
Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.
That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?
Yunho: I disagree
You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.
And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.
"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.
You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.
"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.
"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.
"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.
"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.
"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.
"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.
"What happened?"
"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.
"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.
"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."
She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.
"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back.
"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.
"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."
"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."
"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.
"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."
"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."
"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.
"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.
"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."
"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."
As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.
You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.
Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?
You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.
And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.
You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.
Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out
You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.
Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive
Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.
So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.
The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.
"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."
"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.
"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"
"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."
"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."
"Me too."
"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."
"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all.
"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.
"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."
"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.
"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.
New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?
The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.
It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...
It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.
It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself.
You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.
By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.
"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.
"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.
"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.
"No, I just checked," you respond.
"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.
"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.
The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.
It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.
"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-
Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"
The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...
Part 2
Thank you sm for reading! <3
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Hello and welcome to today's instalment of "Harry doesn't know what he's feeling when he's feeling it". I'm in the middle of going through the books (for nerd reasons) and I stumbled upon this passage:
And the thing is: this happens in book 1, right at the beginning of the school year. Not only have Draco and Harry interacted very little so far but the inciting incident that made Harry react this way is peculiar.
You see, Harry here is thinking back on his first ever potions lesson, where Snape tried to humiliate him at every turn. In that scene Draco does not interact with Harry, all he does is be a gleeful spectator to the dressing down and also make potions. Literally.
Draco mentions in the scene:
The slytherin boys (or at the very least the ones Harry knows so far) are amused by Snape's roasting of Harry
2. second verse, same as the first
3. Draco is good at potions, this irritates Harry
That's literally everything. All Draco is guilty of here is being present for Harry's humiliation and being competent at something Harry is trying for the first time. Yes, he's laughing at Harry's misfortune but this is not described as a performance for his benefit (unlike in later books where Draco will make sure Harry sees him laughing at his misfortune). Harry sees Draco's reaction (and Crabbe and Goyle's) but are they the only ones laughing or are they the only ones Harry is paying attention to? Harry explicitly says, in the second passage I mentioned, that he tries not looking at Draco+ Crabbe&Goyle; this to me implies that he's especially conscious of them and their reaction.
As I remarked here about their very first interaction, Harry's feelings towards Draco are, from the get-go, more complicated and nebulous than one might think. If I had to name what sentiments Draco inspires in Harry in these first interactions, I'd say a non insignificant one is inadequacy.
We can see that during the first potions lesson, and again at the thought of a shared flying lesson, Harry very much dislikes the thought of being seen failing by Draco . Why, on Harry's very first night at Hogwarts he has a nightmare and you know who's featured prominently in it, witnessing Harry in an embarrassing situation and laughing about it? None other than Draco Lucius Malfoy.
I find this interesting because Harry claims his feelings towards Draco are similar to what he feels towards Dudley (at this point in the narrative he's remarked on it more than once) but Dudley's actions towards Harry are intentional (pre-Hogwarts dudders loves bullying Harry) whereas Draco has yet to do anything to Harry other than try really badly to befriend him (and be stung by his rejection).
Furthermore Harry, from what we see from his interactions with Dudley, does not seem to be at all self conscious of the way he behaves in front of his cousin nor does he measure his achievements by comparing them with Dudley's. I'd say his general attitude toward Dudley is dismissive, in complete contrast with the competitiveness he feels with Draco yet, somehow, Harry keeps associating the two in his mind.
There's this element of self-fulfilling prophecy in Harry and Draco's interactions (no doubt because jkr is telling us to dislike Draco before showing us why) that I never noticed before. Harry dislikes Draco at first sight (more accurately, he's unsettled by him and decide this means he dislikes him) so he's going to look for other things to dislike in order to reinforce his bias:
Draco receives packages from home? Wow, he's spoiled just like Dudley, nevermind the fact that countless other students are undoubtedly receiving just as many packages.
Draco is a competent beginner potions student? Oh wow, it's just like that git to succeed in a class taught by another git (essentially: if you're favoured by a bad person that means you're bad too)
And because these reactions don't happen in a vacuum, Draco notices them, which fuels HIS complicated emotions vis-à-vis Harry. Add all of this to the feelings of rejection he has no doubt been stewing on and voilà, you have the birth of Draco's decision to be Harry's enemy (since he can't be his friend).
tldr: Harry indadvertedly started the rivalry with Draco and Draco followed suit because negative attention is still attention.
#hp#drarry#hpdm#why I ship it: an illustrated compendium#I kinda read it as: Harry wants a relationship of equals#which is why he chooses to befriend Ron and not Draco#(11 y.o Draco knows nothing about how friendships work see: Crabbe&Goyle)#and you know who else you can have an equal relationship with?#your rival#Harry's desire not to be seen failing by Draco becomes wanting to win against him real quick#harry potter meta#the Blorger Special#the drarry of it all
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do you think modern!coryo is the type of man to babytrap reader without them knowing ? like by poking holes in the condoms or by replacing reader’s birth control pills with fake ones…
n when you end up pregnant he’d pretend to act all surprised even tho it’s what he’s wanted all along ����
cw: no really explicit stuff (putting up the mdni banner regardless bc of the dark content but there is one mention of sex) but there is MAJOR dubcon pregnancy and baby trapping talk, typical coryo warnings especially for this au
I've talked about this before, but i think baby trapping would be more of a last resort for him or at least wouldn't happen until he could weasel you out of school without you freaking out. Obviously if your relationship was falling apart fast enough before he planned to have kids, he'd make the decision to speed up the process. Coryo's one of those bfs who don't fuck with condoms because he wants to be "close", so I think that he'd go for the swapping birth control pills route.
So, it's either happening earlier in your relationship if he thinks he really needs to prove that what you have is forever & that he's committed, or it happens 2-3 years down the line when he has a more solid hold on you. When it goes down depends on how reluctant you are to commit.
He knows that it's such a hassle finding the right pill for your body. you have to be so consistent, and the hormones/side effects could easily have you thinking they're not worth it if the side effects are bad enough. But if you've found one that's.... fine (you're convinced no pill's going to be 100% perfect & you're tired of trying), then he'd have a harder time getting you off of them.
He'll get a bottle of those sugar pills and swap them with the birth control while you're sleeping. you don't really notice a difference in the sex because let's be real, he's just always like that and the breeding kink is severe. Coryo doesn't act any different, he doesn't have to. Even if this is happening in a timeline where it's far earlier than he planned, it's what he wants, and the satisfaction gives him the glow he knows you're going to have too sooner or later.
One day he gets a phone call from you in the middle of the night and somehow, he just knows it's you because he immediately springs up. You hate phone calls and almost always prefer to text unless you literally have to call someone, so the fact that it must be something serious makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. Coryo clears his throat and calmly tells you to stay put in your dorm and to wait for him to pick you up, he soothes you through your crying and assures you that he'll send someone over to pick your stuff up and no one will notice.
Once he's gotten you drowning in his silk sheets, he's trying to hold back his smile as he rubs your back and kisses your temple.
"What's wrong, petal? it breaks my heart seeing you all worked up like this."
He frowns genuinely when you don't respond but then you bring a shaky fist in front of him and start to uncurl your fingers around whatever you're holding.
You speak once you've calmed down enough, with a desperate tone as it becomes obvious what's in your hand.
"I- I'm so sorry, Coryo. I didn't mean for this happened at all and I'd never do anything to hurt your future. I- I'm on the pill and I know it's not completely effective, but I never thought that this would happen so soon."
It's adorable, in a way. Of course you didn't mean for this to happen, but he did. And you honestly thought that this was going to ruin his life, you're so sweet, but how could he care about tabloids or gossiping students when he'll have his family to focus on? his grandma'am will be so happy too, his father will just be glad he has an heir.
Still, he lets shock color his face as his mouth drops open. He glances between the pregnancy test and your shaking body several times before making a production out of sighing and gathering his strength. Coryo tenderly encapsulates your hands in his own and presses his forehead against yours.
"There's nothing you could do that would make me not want you and this baby. Yes, we're young and this was an accident, but it doesn't mean that we can't do this. You don't have to be afraid, bunny, you're never going to be alone." His words are firm, so sure of what he's saying that he can actually see the reluctance and fear in your eyes be replaced with certainty and excitement.
He's too serious to say "it's uterUS, babe" but he's so determined to fuse with you so it's basically the sentiment. convinced he gets sympathy pains but hides it. Whispers to your belly when you're asleep about how much he loves you and likes the baby & how perfect of a family he'll be & that he knows the baby's going to be the best older sibling. I've also said before that he'd a toxic boy dad imo, (not in the excusing 🍇way dw, he'd kick his son's ass and say that you can be as obsessive over your partner as you want but you don't do that) so he would tolerate the kid but at the end of the day they're fighting for your attention. I haven't really thought about if he'd use the kid to "innocently" keep tabs on you or further manipulate you by making sure you see how good of a dad he is, but the ideas are there.
First pregnancy gives y'all one kid but the second brings twins.
ⓒ faetreides 2024
#tw pregnancy#tw babytrapping#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus smut#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#coryo snow x you#coryo snow x reader#coryo x you#coryo x reader#coryo snow#tbosas#tbosas x reader#tbosas x you#thg x you#thg x reader#the hunger games x you#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games#yandere themes#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere smut#male yandere smut#male yandere x you#male yandere x reader#🎧.asks
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When it comes to love you're just as blinded.
Part One
Eminem x Musician
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)
Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour
Masterlist
I was mortified.
More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.
To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.
No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.
“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.
“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.
“Don’t do that either.”
I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.
“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”
A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.
I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.
Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit.
But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.
I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.
At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.
It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.
But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.
Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.
It was around midnight when I heard the scream.
Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.
“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”
Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.
“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”
“Elia.”
I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”
“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”
Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”
Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me.
From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.
I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.
It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.
“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”
I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.
Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.
The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.
“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”
My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.
“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”
And there it was.
“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.
“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.
Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?
I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video.
“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.
In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.
“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.
“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.
The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”
“I wasn’t fucking wasted!”
I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”
I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.
“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”
That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.
“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.
Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.
“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”
I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”
The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself.
The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”
The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react.
“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”
Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.
That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either.
After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.
I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on.
I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful.
Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.
The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.
Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.
I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.
I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.
It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.
“Hello?”
There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”
Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight.
I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”
A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”
Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?
I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”
I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.
I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.
“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.
He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore.
“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.
I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything.
“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.
“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”
My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”
His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”
I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?”
I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to.
“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”
The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well.
“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”
When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.
“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”
My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.
“I still can’t believe you saw that.”
Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”
I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”
He hummed, seemingly not convinced.
“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”
“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”
Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”
“Dre too.”
I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.
Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”
Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously.
“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”
“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”
A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling.
“You’re not fucking with me?”
In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.
“Who else knows?”
There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”
I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way.
I needn’t have worried.
“As you fuckin’ should be.”
I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me?
I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”
“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.
I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”
His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more.
“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.
“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.
The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”
The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.
“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”
I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”
“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”
That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”
I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him.
“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”
I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls.
“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.
Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.
“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”
“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”
“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”
“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”
My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.
He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.”
He hummed.
Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those.
I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”
A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling.
I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion.
“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness.
My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”
His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw.
“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.
With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”
His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”
A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.”
His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”
I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further.
That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”
I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”
He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”
It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.
I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.
“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.
I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”
It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name.
The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”
You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?
That was what that question felt like to me.
“What?”
His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”
Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”
Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”
“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”
That chuckle again.
It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.
“That the go ahead then?”
I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”
“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”
The air in my lungs lurched.
I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”
#eminem#marshall mathers#fic#slim shady#x reader#oc#eminem x reader#humor#imagine#x singer#eminem imagine#famous reader#oc insert#vmas#meet cute#strangers to lovers#drama#real slim shady#writer#writers on tumblr#famous people#music#celebs#eminem x#series
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ex encounters (bllk pt.4) !
features: alexis ness ... tabito karasu ... eita otoya ... kenyu yukimiya
contents: bad exes, general tw, confrontation, harassment, google translate german, strong language
tw for the exes: controlling, domineering, power struggle, accusations, fighting, public scenes, revenge, grabbing (shoulder), trying to get back together, harassment, manipulation, gaslighting, falling out of love, wanting you back, possessive themes
notes: FINALLY FINISHING THIS SERIES and desperately hoping this will cure my writer's block </3
pt.1 — pt.2 — pt.3
like kaiser, ness would be so pressed that your ex would even have the audacity to so much as even think of you. but unlike kaiser, ness would not be trying to throw hands: bro would just be gaslighing your ex into thinking he can't stand a chance against him.
you met ness online, trying to learn german through an anonymous messaging forum: where he was trying to learn your native language. the both of you had no clue who the other was, becoming online friends for years, long before you had ever even met your ex.
when your ex came into your life, ness noticed that you were online less and less. when asked, you gave the sheepish answer that your boyfriend didn't support you learning german, not wanting you to know a language that he didn't.
despite the red flag that was, and all his other warning signs, you stayed with him. you still learned german, now only messaging your pen pal when your lover slept or was away.
but, one day, you came home to your (now ex) boyfriend sitting on the couch. he found out you were still messaging ness, and he was mad.
it lead to a blow-out fight, you ended up having to flee and stay with a friend, collecting your stuff over a week while he was at work. you never saw him again.
eventually, you finished learning german. after a long discussion, ness agreed to meet you at the airport. the second you touched down in berlin, you rushed out the gates to see that cute boy with caramel hair and magenta tips holding your name on a sign. that would be the man you'd come to love so very dearly.
eventually, you and ness moved in together in germany, for his soccer career. you returned home with him for the holidays, to visit family.
as ness and you walked hand in hand through the streets of your hometown, bantering idly in german, you stumbled across a face you thought you'd never see again.
"ah, i see that i was right to not want you to learn german..." his voice said from a little further away, eyes glaring at the two of you. you instantly stiffened, and ever perceptive ness instantly figured out what was happening, muttering a quiet "verdammt" under his breath.
as your ex sauntered closer, ness wordlessly stood in front of you. though he wasn't the most imposing figure, you could see his distaste written plainly on his face, sneering at your ex.
"you left me for a german terrier... i see your standards really lowered..." your ex mumbled, chuckling as he glanced at ness. "keep it up, just try me schwein..." ness threatened, squaring his shoulders.
this went back and forth enough until ness had finally barked out enough insults with that near-crazed look on his face that had him shaking his head and storming away.
your boyfriend, turned to you, like a dog awaiting praise. it had you giggling and cupping his face to press scattered kisses along his cheeks. "thank you, mein held..."
"anything for you, mein schätzchen. i'd do it for you in a heartbeat..."
karasu would be smug at first before quickly getting annoyed. he would want to throw hands, shoving the guy away and mocking him, probably gets the cops called on him. at least he doesn't look bad in cuffs ig??
when karasu was introducing you to a group of fans who watch bllktv, you didn't expect to see your ex. "wow, y/n, what are you now... a gold-digger?" he taunts, stepping into your view.
your boyfriend was off to the side, signing things, blissfully unaware to your torment as his back was turned to you. so, you decided to be the bigger person and just ignore him.
your ex was one of those run-of-the-mill revenge people, would make fun of you at any given chance now that you were separated. you don' even remember why you broke up, probably some snide comment of his that ticked you off. but one thing about him was that he hated being ignored.
karasu, who heard a guy's voice and figured you were getting hit on. he knows that you're a catch, and he trusts you, so usually he lets you humble people on your own unless things get out of hand. well, things got out of hand.
he spun around when he heard you yelp, eyes meeting the hand that gripped your shoulder. in an instant he was shoving your ex away from you, guiding you so gently behind him that it contrasted with the same movement he had used against your ex.
"trash shouldn't touch treasure." he spits, glaring down as you ex stumbles on his feet. just like that, with a shout, your ex charges back at karasu.
like a professional, karasu throws him back again, this time with more force. but desperation does something to inhibition and your ex lunges back again, sending a punch across your boyfriend's face.
karasu just chuckles, wiping the blood from his nose as he grabs your ex's collar with one hand and socks him with the other, sending him to the ground.
they continue this one-sided fighting until flashes of blue and red flare in the corner of your peripheral. then they're both in cuffs and all three of you including those fans from earlier are being questioned.
then, karasu walks away from his cops, rubbing his now-restraint-free wrists as he saunters up to you with that coy smirk. "hey there pretty thing, your jailbird's back..."
he's taken aback as you jump into his arms, hugging him tight as your hands hold him like he was fragile. he just smiles, wrapping his arms around you and kissing he side of your head with a gentle affection.
"hey now, don't cry. i'd gladly get cuffed again for keeping you safe."
otoya is another smug one, but unlike karasu he is not eager to be fighting. otoya's smart and knows just what to do, plays innocent if it ever gets to the point where cops come in.
of all people in the world, otoya has certainly had his share of running into an unpleasant ex. he's the one who will understand you best, which is why he stands next to you with a cocky grin as your ex desperately tries to explain how he's better for you than him.
"i don't have a history of cheating... unlike present company..." your ex digs, shooting a smug look at otoya, who grumbles out a "c'mon, it was one time..."
you just chuckle, shaking your head in exasperation with a heavy sigh. "no, you didn't cheat. but you're still a manipulative asshole." he huffs, rolling his eyes and mumbling curses under his breath.
"you pretentious bitch, i never once hurt you. it was all for your betterment because you can't take care of yourself." your ex spits, getting closer until otoya puts an arm between you two.
"don't talk to what's mine like that, back it up bud." otoya muses with a grin, pushing your ex back lightly, putting himself between you two. your ex stammers, glaring at you over your boyfriend's shoulder.
seemingly, all was fine until the next time you were out with otoya, your ex appeared again: delivering the same take-me-back speech. it was getting tiring and you felt your patience begin to wear thin with every emotionally-charged word that spilled from his lips.
you groaned, running your hands down your face with a tired sigh, otoya silently wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"listen, i think you should just go, man. this is getting pretty pathetic... i know that y/n's a real catch, but sometime's you gotta know when you can't reel a babe in..." otoya says, somehow getting even more smug as he presses you into his side, leering down at your ex.
eventually, after a few more snide remarks from otoya, your ex finally gave up. allowing you to slump in your boyfriend's arms, letting ot a tired sigh as you kissed his cheek. "thanks, 'toya..."
"i know why he's so desperate, there really is no one like you. makes me happy that i ended my player streak for you..."
an angel sent from heaven. arguably the best person to run into your ex with. yukimiya is calm and composed enough if your ex is temperamental, and he's tall and handsome to scare anyone else away. 10/10 literal perfect man.
yukimiya’s a pretty boy, he’s tall and lean with an angelic smile. he’s a catch, by far the best man you’ve ever dated. he only proves this to be even more true when the two of you run into your ex.
there wasn’t necessarily any bad blood between you two, he had just suddenly broken up with you on the claim that “he fell out of love.” it hurt you like hell, of course, but there was no reason for you to resent him for it. so you two left on good terms, occasionally wishing a happy birthday to the other until the friendship too fizzled out.
then you met yukimiya through a mutual friend and fell hard, but he fell harder. so here you are, happily sipping a blue slushy while yukimiya held your hand and chattered about soccer.
“blue was always our favorite…” a voice rang from behind you, yukimiya stopped drinking his red slushy as he turned with you. there he was, your ex with a sheepish grin.
you quirked a brow, confused. you hadn’t talked to him in nearly a year, ever since you and yuki had started dating.
he smiles sweetly at you, the kind that has you realizing where this is leading. “sorry, i’ve just been nostalgic about us lately…” he said with a chuckle, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
your eyes flit over to your boyfriend, catching the furrow of his brow. yukimiya was a really nice guy, he wasn’t a fan of confrontation. but you are.
so you grin at your ex, waving a hand dismissively. “sorry man, i’m in a very happy relationship…”
the second he tries to protest you swiftly shut him up, sticking out your tongue. at first, your ex was confused, then he realized that your tongue was purple. his eyes flit between your blue slushy and yukimiya’s red one, sighing and walking away.
yukimiya’s face goes bright red as he stares at you, “that’s not why your tongue is purple, you just wanted to try mine!” he protests.
you chuckle, grinning at him, “yeah, but he doesn’t have to know that…” yukimiya just sighs before grinning back at you.
"i don’t like lying, so why don’t you let me do it authentically…"
okkotsuus 23
#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock x reader#alexis ness#alexis ness x reader#ness#ness x reader#tabito karasu#tabito karasu x reader#karasu#karasu x reader#eita otoya#eita otoya x reader#otoya#otoya x reader#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya kenyu x reader#yukimiya#yukimiya x reader
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I'm a huge fan of radiostatic
The show hints they have a complicated past together, but you also said in a previous post that it doesn't look like Vox is pining for Alastor in stayed gone. How do you think their actual relationship will play out in the show ?
Well, I think the hints we are seeing of their past friendship are veritable and not our delusional shipper little minds grasping for straws. Whatever happens in season two it definitely will be emotionally heavy. At least for Vox, and dare I say I think it'll also be for Alastor.
Because, objectively speaking, Alastor doesn't really... have any friends. Mimzy uses him, and I think Alastor knows the hotel is apprehensive of him and keeps him at a distance as a colleague. Which only really leaves Rosie (who's also an overlord, but I doubt she's someone who would Alastor would die for or who he would die for) and Niffty (who's probably his thrall and can't be his equal as long as she is). And Alastor is a very extroverted guy. The only times his reputation as a stone-cold, heartless murderer is alluded to are what OTHER people say of him. Meanwhile, the people who know Alastor, aren't... that afraid of him. On a more intimate level, Alastor is very approachable and easy to talk to. He NEEDS friends. He NEEDS verbal communication, which is why I think his fallout with Vox hit him hard, no matter whose fault it was.
Now, Vox is clearly still pissed, and so is Alastor despite being able to hide it better. To me Stayed Gone borders somewhere between mortal enemies and exes who are biting at each other. And I don't think Vox is the pining sort based on his actions during ep 2 which I covered in this post:
(I think this might be the post i question. I'm adding it as a screenshot because tumblr was lagging on the link function)
I also found another post @moodooivy that really nails Alastor’s behaviour:
Personally (now this is just my opinion) I think Vivienne will continue the trend of "best friends suffered a brutal accident that was neither of their fault and got estranged then they hated each other for years only to reconcile and become best friends again in the end" that she did with Blitz and Fizz. I think a scene between Vox and Alastor is inevitable at this point. And I think it won't just be an emotional reconciliation.
The show has a limited amount of time at its disposal. And in any other instance, such an emotionally charged scene would have enough time to be fleshed out, to focus on the characters and their thoughts. But, Hazbin doesn't have that time. So, I think during that reconciliation SOMETHING important will be said (whether it's Alastor’s true intentions for the hotel or that he has always planned to betray them, Alastor’s dealer whoever it is had some hand in their split up and is planning something devious, Vox professing how much Alastor meant to him and how much he cared about him etc. etc. Or perhaps that he's never cared at all, and vise versa. Maybe they figure out Valentino somehow meddled with their relationship, or smth). It will be violent and intense, maybe a big fight where one nearly kills the other or an outside interference stops them, before it eventually subsides since these two can't keep a straight head around each other. And it's gonna happen in the last few episodes because either they both come out alive and well, which is bad news for everyone else since together they would be a massive powerhouse, or one of them dies - and the death of a fan favorite is impactful which would mean the writers would want to leave it near the end, right before season 3.
This is all me theorising though!! I love hearing predictions about season 2 and I'd love to talk about this in the comments and hear what you and others think 💜💜
#thanks for the ask i had fun answering it!!#asks#radiostatic#staticradio#radiosilence#hazbin hotel#vox#alastor#vox x alastor#alastor x vox#voxal#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel predictions
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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 97 (Cherished Friendships)
Conrad tried to make breakfast for his hosts while a familiar light rain drizzled outside, but Neal rushed into the kitchen to stop him. "It's an old stove. Real finnicky," he insisted. "Maybe you should let someone else do that. Heather, maybe."
"It's no trouble. I had a stove like this growing up," said Conrad, but Neal shook his head.
"It's not a good idea."
Daisy shook her head with a gentle chuckle. "Don't let him scare you. He's just trying to scam a meal out of his daughter now that she's as good as any gourmet chef."
They all knew it was more than that, but they went along with the excuse because it was easier that way. "It's not like I'm making anyone ambrosia," Heather said. There was nothing special about her scrambled eggs and bacon, but she took over at the stove while Conrad hung out with sleepy Lavender, instead.
The early morning rains let up and the sun came out, so Heather and Conrad next headed to Old New Henford, where Everett, Spencer, and their children had settled well into the mild winter season - at least it was more seasonal than their last home in Oasis Springs.
"Greyson, say hello to your godmother, Heather."
"Hi, Heather," he said cheerily. "Hey! You have glasses, too!"
"I told you she did." Spencer looked apologetically at her old friend. "He just got glasses recently and was feeling insecure, so I was trying to tell him all the awesome people I know who rock glasses."
"Your glasses look really good, Greyson. The bright red is so cool!" Heather wasn't lying to him about his glasses, though she played up the excitement to help Spencer convince him to embrace this change in his appearance. "I've had glasses for pretty much as long as I can remember, and I love wearing them. If I looked as cool as you, I'd love them even more!"
Seven-year-old Greyson smiled up at Heather. "You look pretty cool," he said, before running off to play on the monkey bars in their backyard.
Heather watched firsthand the bond between Spencer and her sons. Especially four-year-old Jett, who was Heather's biological child, but was treated the same as his siblings. He followed Spencer everywhere and loved making everyone laugh. "I seriously don't know why you doubt yourself, Spence," Heather gushed. "You're an incredible mom."
They also met Everett and Spencer's third little miracle - a daughter they named Violet. She was about six months younger than Lavender, with big blue eyes like her mother.
"I hope you don't mind that their names are so similar," said Spencer. "I've just always loved the name and I thought maybe the girls might grow up to be friends as close as we are. If that happens, their names are a perfect set!"
Heather smiled at the thought. "I think Violet's name is perfect, and I'd love for her and Lavender to have as many adventures together as we have!"
"I'm still planning to take you to Selvadorada with me next time, if you can get away."
Heather nodded. "And I'm still planning to get away, as long as business stays as manageable as its been lately!"
Everett's father Bob stopped by to say hello, and Heather thought to ask him about Agnes and Agatha. "How does it feel seeing clones of your dead mothers walk around town?"
He laughed. "It was hard to get used to, but now it comforts me whenever I see them. They're together forever, just like they wanted to be."
They left for San Myshuno after leaving the Pancakes' after lunch, picking up Ash from the Landgraabs' penthouse before stopping in to visit with Heather's old friend, Dylan Richards, and her family. Pearl was a year and a half older than Ash, but their mothers were happy to see them get along.
"You can do my math homework?"
Ash shrugged. "It's not that hard. Just numbers."
"I don't like numbers," Pearl complained. "I prefer dancing, but every time I want to practice, Darrell gets in the way!" Pearl's toddler brother perked up from the sofa at the mention of his name. "Be glad you have sisters. Little brothers are so annoying!"
Pearl's father, Gavin, chuckled. "He just wants to spend time with his big sister, sweetheart. He loves you!"
"Why can't he love me and be less annoying?" she moaned.
Gavin took Darrell into the hall to help him use up some of his energy, and by now, Lavender was struggling. It had been days since she'd been in her own crib and felt the familiar surroundings of their home in Brindleton Bay. Though she'd been her wiggly, happy self for most of the weekend, she was fading fast.
Heather had hoped to stop in to see Holly and Kris' daughter, Betta, who was only a few weeks younger than Lavender, but Heather and Conrad knew it was time to head home.
(Look at that face. She would not stand being passed around for cuddles in one more stranger's arms this day!)
They knew they'd see Heather's youngest niece during the Winterfest holidays, but they still had a few weeks of work left until the festive season. ->
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NOTE: Did I give Heather and Everett's children all colour names? Yes I did. Am I plotting something? Maybe. Will we know what that is for years? No. 😂 Did plotting encourage me to give Violet a better outfit than the default medieval cc dress and bucket hat she aged up in? Also no.
#sims 4#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4 screenshots#sims 4 legacy#sims in bloom#ts4#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#ts4 screenshots#sims 4 story#ts4 story#legacy challenge#sims legacy#ts4 legacy challenge#gen 2#san myshuno#henford on bagley#gavin richards#bob pancakes#alice spencer kim#eric lewis
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