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#they worked on all except for one because face app was having a hard time idk
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Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.
I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.
This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)
My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.
But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.
So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.
My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.
My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.
I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)
It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.
After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.
My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)
I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.
I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.
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skalfy · 8 months
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A Reputation for Good Taste
Misa x Reader, ~3.5k words, part 2/?
Part 1 here
Another part! Again, deeply unproofread, so apologies for any errors.
“I’m sorry, what??” Your friend made a show of rolling over to look directly at you where you lay, bundled in her bed. “You’re telling me that Alma cheated on you, then you drove her mistress home and somehow ended up seducing her into giving you free tickets to a football match? Actually, I’m not surprised about the Alma thing, sorry, but the rest is beyond me.”
“Maya!” You blushed hard. “None of that is what I said! Well, except for the Alma thing. I did not seduce María, and please don’t call her Alma’s mistress. All I did was drive her home and probably make her uncomfortable by crying about how I’m a bad aunt. She definitely only offered the tickets because she feels bad that my girlfriend cheated on me with her. It was so obvious that she thought she needed to do something to apologise.”
“If all she felt was guilty about Alma I hardly think she would go to the lengths she did, but out of courtesy to your broken heart,” she fixed you with a look, “I won’t argue about this right now.”
“Thank you, Maya.” You mumbled, then, “I don’t even know if my heart is broken. I’m angry at Alma for doing something so stupid to both of us, but it’s really been getting worse for a while, hasn’t it?”
“Oh honey, it has, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” She lifted the covers between you. “Now come here and let me cuddle you.”
You rolled over and let her pull you against her chest, relaxing into the comfort of your friend’s arms.
“I think my heart broke a while ago, but I really wish we would talked instead of this.” She just squeezed you tighter and you drifted to sleep.
--
You awoke the next morning alone in Maya’s bed, the sounds of her in the kitchen with Marc, her boyfriend, faintly audible from through the closed door. Your first thought was about Alma, and whether she had bothered to say anything to you since you left the flat. You quickly found your phone and unlocked it, opening the messages app. At the top there was an unread message, but it wasn’t from Alma. You tapped it open anyway.
María: Hi, good morning! I hope you are feeling okay and that your friend is taking care of you. I talked to the club and the tickets will be no problem and no cost. I’ll give you the details later :)
María: Do you have a jersey for the game?
Maria: It’s El Clásico, you have to wear one.
You felt a blush rise as you read the first message. It was sweet, but you were also a little embarrassed to think that María knew you needed taking care of. You quickly typed out a reply.
Me: Thank you so much, you have saved my aunt reputation and Luisa’s trip! And I am okay, thank you for asking. Between my old friend and a certain new friend who has gone out of her way to do me a big favor I’m feeling better.
You wrote and deleted the last line several times before hitting send, unsure how María would take it. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, the little dots that showed she was typing popped up after just a few seconds.
María: I think your new friend would be very glad to hear that, and glad to hear she is your friend, even if the circumstances you met in were not ideal.
María: You didn’t answer my question, do you have a jersey?
There was no resisting the grin that spread on your face as you read her message.
Me: Luisa definitely has a jersey, I got her one for Christmas.
María: I didn’t ask if Luisa had one, I asked if you did ;)
Me: Hmm, I think I have an old Barça one lying around somewhere.
You figured if she worked for worked for Real Madrid she must have a healthy animosity for the rival club, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun about it.
María: We will discuss that later, but I might let it slide if it’s an Alexia kit. Sounds like you are in need of something to wear on Saturday. Green or white?
Me: Green?
María: Yes, it will bring out your eyes. Good choice!
María: Meet me for coffee? I will give you the jersey. Before you ask, it doesn’t cost me, I promise :)
Your head was spinning, but somehow you didn’t really mind. You weren’t about to turn down the offer for coffee, if for no other reason than to buy María acoffee as a thank you.
Me: I’d love to. Let me know when and where, I am off work today so anytime works.
She sent a link to a cute looking coffee shop and said to meet her there at 3 before signing off to get back to some work. You were still giving your phone a bewildered smile when Maya opened the door to her room to check in on you.
“My god, please don’t tell me Alma has sent you some ridiculous make up text that has you falling back under her spell!” You looked up at her words, startled and confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the lovesick smile you were just giving your phone when I walked in.” You scoffed in response to Maya’s words, but still felt a sudden urge to keep your conversation with María to yourself until you had a better idea of what was going on.
“I’m just smiling at the death march sightseeing tour mum has the family on today. I was planning to meet up with them, but the play by play is equal parts funny and frightening.” It wasn’t really a lie, you knew your mother well enough to know that your prediction was probably true, and you really were going to meet up with them. It just wasn’t exactly what had you smiling, or the afternoon plan you were most looking forward to.
Maya looked like she might say something more, but a particularly loud clang from the kitchen had her hurrying quickly back out. Alone again, you decided it was long time to get yourself ready for the day.
--
Dressed and showered, you caught Maya and Marc as both were headed out the door to work. Maya had instructed you to be back for dinner with the two of them, but otherwise you had free reign and your spare key. Sipping the cup of coffee one of them had left on the counter for you, you pulled out your phone and called your mum.
A short itinerary run-down later, you had plans to meet up outside their hotel and a half day of sightseeing between you and your unexpected coffee plans. That left only one other call to make, and it was one you didn’t want hanging over your head any longer. You dialed the number and listened as it rang through three times before you heard the other end pick up. When she didn’t say anything, you spoke first.
“Alma.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She answered, the guilt unmistakeable in her voice.
“I’m sorry, too.” You sighed. “It was a shitty thing to do, though. I didn’t deserve that.”
“You didn’t.”
“Did you want me to see? You had to have known I wouldn’t be out that late.” You couldn’t help but ask. Her silence was all the answer you needed. “Okay. I’ll stay at Maya’s another night, but can you have your things out after that?” Thankfully, she had moved in with you only a few months back when her lease ended. Almost everything was yours, and you wouldn’t have the added insult of losing your flat along with your girlfriend.
“Yeah, I’ll pack everything today. I really am sorry.” You could hear her holding back tears, and you were struck by a pang of affection and sympathy for her. As cruel as cheating on you was, the last few months had been hard for both of you, and falling out of love with her first hadn’t been particularly kind either.
“Thank you, Alma. I hope things work out for you.”
“You too. I’ll miss you.” She ended the call, and you felt the weight on your chest ease.
--
It had been a long morning with your family, but you were immensely happy to have spent the time with them. Mum’s heavy-handed tourguiding made everyone laugh, but she had done her research well, and you were glad for it. Even after living in Madrid for three years, you still hadn’t taken the time to see all the sights. Plus, everything was more enjoyable with Luisa dragging you along to point out the best bits. You walked double the steps, but it was worth it to be honored as the most interesting adult, and you loved any opportunity to hear more about what her latest activities and interests were.
Having arrived a few minutes early to the coffee shop, you were lost in reflection on your family’s antics when the light touch of a hand on your elbow pulled you into the present. You jumped a little at the contact, and felt the hand grip a little tighter to steady you. It only took you a moment to look up and catch the owner’s warm brown eyes. As soon as you recognized her, María tugged you forward gently into a hug, and you sunk into the contact.
“Hi.” She said, releasing you to arm’s length.
“Hi, how are you?” You responded a little breathlessly as her hands finally fell away from your arms.
“Better now.” She answered you with a smile. “Have you been here before?” You shook your head no, returning her smile. “Good. It’s my favorite and I’m glad I get to introduce you to it. Come!” She pulled the door open and gestured for you to step inside. Stepping through the entrance, you were hit immediately by the rich smell of coffee, and you paused to appreciate it. You looked over your shoulder as María entered behind you and spoke with joking reverence.
“I think I’m in love already.” She chuckled and nudged you ahead with her own shoulder.
“You haven’t even tried it yet, keep walking!”
The two of you approached the counter and greeted the barista. You inclined your head to María to order first, and after a moment’s hesitation, she requested a café con leche Before the barista could give her a total, you ordered your cortado, card already in hand to cover both. You turned to look at the woman next to you and she raised her hands in mock surrender.
“Any pastries you recommend?” You asked, still looking at her.
“Everything is good, but my favorite is probably the pear tart.” She answered, and you looked back to the barista.
“One of those too, please.” She nodded, then recited the total and let you hand her your card. After ringing you up, she retrieved your pastry and passed it over on a plate with two forks.
You followed María to a quiet corner with an empty table. She pulled out one chair before walking to the other side and sitting down.
“Can’t risk you dropping our tart.” She said with a wink when you gave her a look. You rolled your eyes, but still felt a blush as you set the plate down carefully and took your seat. Her fingertips quickly snagged the edge of the plate, sliding it to her side of the table. It didn’t exactly bother you, but with her earlier chivalry you weren’t expecting her to immediately lay claim to the shared treat. You watched as she industriously carved out a bite with one of the forks, clearly taking care to perfect the crust to filling ratio and center a perfect slice of pear on the wedge she cut. Her focus was charming, but your mouth was nearly watering waiting for your turn.
“You have to have the perfect first bite, my reputation for having good taste could be on the line here if you aren’t impressed.” She spoke as she finally lifted her fork, extending it toward you with a shy smile. There was a burst of warmth in your chest as you realized the care she had taken was for you, even if it was only to prove she made the best choice. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes, leaning forward slightly to meet her over the table. Her free hand was loosely cupped under the fork to catch any crumbs, and it brushed your chin gently as you closed your lips over the forkful of tart. You tilted your head back as María pulled the fork away, instinctively raising your own hand as well. The back of her hand was soft where your palm met it, and she let it rest against yours for a moment before pulling away. Her trailing fingers were far from your mind, however, as soon as you began to chew the bite of tart. The flavor was divine, sharp and sweet and fresh all at once, paired with a perfectly buttery-flaky-crisp crust. María let out a burst of laughter and a fist pump at the wide-eyed nod you gave her when she asked if her reputation was secure, which in turn had you covering your mouth as you tried to swallow through a growing smile.
A barista calling out your orders had María quickly standing, waving off your offer to help, and gave you a chance to sneak a second bite and collect your thoughts for a moment. You felt silly for being so charmed by María’s kindness, from her it seemed more like second nature. Her actions, while some were a little over the top, felt like they came from a combination of genuine thoughtfulness and her desire to make you laugh. It struck you after a second, you felt taken care of. Not in the big-gesture way that Alma always wanted you to exhibit, hinting at big gifts and dramatic arrivals at her office to sweep her away to Ibiza, but something much gentler. It was nice, you realized-- both to be taken care of and for the acts to be so unpretentious.
“For you,” a hand touched your shoulder and your cortado was placed in front of you, “and for me!” María set her own cup down and took her seat, smiling and waving her hand dismissively as you thanked her.
The conversation flowed once again between the two of you, and you enjoyed it even more than you had the previous evening in your car. You managed to draw out the tart, each taking smaller and smaller bites until finally María nudged the plate toward you and insisted you take the final piece. You brought out a chuckle from her by solemnly confessing that you’d taken an extra bite while she fetched the coffees, and she happily stole the plate back to finish it off herself. With the food out of the way, you were both focused on each other, and you felt the heat of her gaze as she listened carefully to everything you said.
You covered a wide variety of topics, learning about her family and friends, her love for music, and the meaning behind some of her tattoos. She didn’t speak much about her work, but you could tell she was driven and passionate. You shared plenty in return, her open interest in what you said and thoughtful questions leading you down plenty of tangents, including a retelling of your family’s antics that had you both laughing. The two of you were so engrossed in the conversation, that it wasn’t until your phone started ringing that you realized how much time had passed.
“It’s the friend I’m staying with, I better answer.” You told María, who gave you a thumbs up as you stood to move a few paces from the table before you answered. “Hi Maya.”
“Girl, where are you?” She asked, skipping over any greeting. You looked down at your watch and realized it was after six. Not time for dinner yet, but Maya was no doubt expecting you to be there when she returned from work. You caught María’s eyes on you and rolled your own dramatically at her as you replied.
“Sorry Mum, I’m out with a friend and we lost track of time. I’ll be back soon. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way?” You could very nearly hear Maya’s eyes narrowing on the other end of the line.
“What friend? I know all your friends, they’re my friends. Unless…” You winced as she trailed off, realizing you didn’t want to have this conversation within earshot of María. “You’re with Alma? Or Alma’s m—”
“Okay! We can talk about this later!” You cut her off firmly, feeling your face heat as you wondered how audible Maya’s voice was from your phone speaker. “Also,” you continued, thinking it might be best to clarify once and for all, “I ended things with Alma officially this morning, so safe to assume I’m not with her.” Maya’s honest-to-god cheer was a bit embarrassing, but you did feel a little like cheering yourself, so you chose not to mention it.
“I’ll expect all the details when you get here. Be safe until then, love you!”
“Love you too.” You ended the call, looking down at your phone a few moments longer than necessary before raising your head to look at María. She had an unreadable expression, but quirked an eyebrow at you when you met her eyes.
“Your friend seems very fun.” She said, then after a pause, “sorry to hear about Alma.” It felt like she was giving you the option to choose whether you wanted to talk about it, which you appreciated.
“I’m not really sorry,” you said, “it should have happened a long time ago.” María kept her gaze on you, not interjecting, face carefully neutral. It reminded you of when you first looked at her in your lobby. In a quieter voice, you continued. “I don’t wish it did, though.” María’s easy smile was familiar to you already, but her lips didn’t curve this time. You felt a strong urge to leave quickly, or even better, for the floor to open up beneath you. Closing your eyes, you heard the chair scrape as she stood. How predictably thoughtful of her to leave you to recover from your embarrassment. Just as you listened for her departing footsteps, you were caught off guard by two strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. Your eyes opened in surprise, but it didn’t take you long to squeeze just as tightly back, relief coursing through you. María’s face pressed into the side of your neck, and you felt her speak, but the words were too muffled to hear. The two of you held each other close a while longer, before she pulled back enough to look at you.
“This might be the strangest friendship I’ve had, but I’m so glad I met you.” She said, smiling softly. You returned her smile, and couldn’t resist saying,
“maybe Alma did both of us a favor in the end.” She gave your shoulders a squeeze in lieu of answering, but spoke after a moment.
“I had better send you back to your friend before she grounds you, I would hate for you to miss the game because you aren’t allowed to leave your room for a week.” It made you laugh, but the possibility is more likely than you’d like to admit. Maya had a greater chance of grounding you than your own mother did, in all honesty. It’s enough to spur you into action, and, after returning your dishes to the counter, the two of you made your way out of the cafe. You hugged one more time, then parted ways, but a shout of your name had you turning around before you made it to your car.
“I almost forgot to give you this!” María held out a folded piece of bright green fabric to you. “It’s the whole reason I dragged you out here after all.” You took it from her and unfolded it, quickly realizing it was a Real Madrid jersey, though not in the colors you were used to seeing.
“I thought you were joking when you said green!” She laughed in response to your confusion and explained that it was a goalkeeper’s jersey, hence the bright color.
“I brought a regular one as well if you prefer.” She added, sounding a little uncertain.
“No way, this is much better,” you held it up to your chest, “does it bring out my eyes like you said?” She leaned in a little closer, reaching out to lift the fabric up to your cheek.
“Absolutely.”
--
That evening after you returned to Maya’s and took a longer look at the jersey you sent María a text with a picture of the back of the jersey.
Me: This Misa better be good if I’m wearing her name on my back
María: Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you wear her name if she wasn’t
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ereardon · 10 months
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The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]
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“That can’t happen again.”  
“It will.” 
You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers. 
He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?” 
“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.” 
“A blind date, really?” 
Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?” 
“No plans.” 
“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.” 
“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.” 
“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.” 
“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?” 
“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled. 
“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.” 
“Well those are objectively the best.” 
“True.” 
You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Always.” 
“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.” 
“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.” 
“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?” 
“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?” 
“They’re comfortable!” 
“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did. 
“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.” 
“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.” 
“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.” 
“More than once is concerning.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.” 
“Stop stroking my ego.” 
“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?” 
“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!” 
You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.
He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings. 
And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out. 
[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]
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jd07201990 · 8 months
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“Oh, come on Chuck! This’ll be my second time! You can’t keep forcing me to work another 40 years, just to make it to retirement and do it all again! It’s not yours or my fault that there aren’t enough young folk to take over our jobs! Hell, maybe if we paid a bit more, the few of them out there would apply!”
“It’s Lieutenant Roth, Billy. Now go change out of that equipment and take a shower. Whatever this remote does to strip away all those years, it sure does leave a young man ripe!”
“Don’t call me Billy! I haven’t been Billy in 30 years! Its Bill Damn it! And how am I supposed to explain this, again! to David?! You know he’s not into, well… this!”
“Put your shirt down Billy and quit your complaining. We’re doing something different this time, changing things up, trying something new. See, we couldn’t afford to pay higher wages all these years, because we’ve been stashing extra money away, for a new program. This remote can do a lot more than just wipe away years, Billy. The company has a whole app-store full of features, but they cost a hell of a lot. We only had enough for 2 new features, and we think it’ll really help solve this town’s aging population issue.”
“Wha… what the hell are you saying? What do you mean, something new?! Chuck, dude… you’re seriously starting to crack! What the fuck does any of this have to do with David?! And who is, “We”?!”
“I’m only going to tell you this once, son. It’s Lieutenant Roth. Now, I guess there’s no beating around the bush with you young-bloods. So I’ll get right to it. “We” is me, the Governor, and the Town Board. We investigated every possible fix, and it comes down to this. All the youth are moving out in droves, going to college, or fleeing to the city for excitement, leaving us aging folk to do the hard work around town. With the remote able to take years off a person, we’ve decided that all our current retirees, in every department, will be regressed, and the new feature we purchased will ensure you all follow your new, youthful instincts, providing us with a full generational bump in population.
You will be the hot-blooded virile stud you were way back in the day; you remember? Except this time, just as David isn’t attracted to this prime of your life look, YOU won’t be attracted to David, or any man for that matter. You see, we need all the help we can get, so with this little app, you’ll be chasing pretty women, and will certainly end up settling down, once one of them catches. Ah, by the look on your face, you know exactly what I mean.
Good, because you and the rest of the retirees are going to have your hands full, working these jobs getting paid just enough for a double-wide and a truck, leaving a trail of gals before you settle in with one, and have a whole mess of kids. "
“Ch… Lieutenant, sir… Wha… you’re insane dude! Fuckin’ totally cracked! You hear yourself! You can’t do this! I can’t be… I can’t chase… I don’t… don’t like…. Fuck… fuck dude… what the fuck are you doing?! Quit pointin’ that shit at me bro! My.. my head!”
“Don’t worry son, I’ll let you off the hook for all that mouthing off. It’s got to be rough having your brain completely flipped inside out, dumped out and filled with everything you need to be a, productive, member of society. Isn’t that right Billy?”
“Wha.. Oh, hey Lieutenant! So uh, is it ok if I head off to the showers and hit the road? Kind of a slow night huh sir? If it’d be alright, I want to go down to the Strip and hit the bar. The dudes and I figured we’d start the weekend early, ya know? Gotta get get some tail on lock before the storms hit. Thinkin’ I might run into Becka too, you know, from Thornton Stables? God she’d look real pretty, all knocked up good n’ proper!”
“Oh alright son. Go ahead, take the night off. But you’re on call. Got it! One or two beers, maybe a shot, take some cash and buy the lass one of those fruity drinks, and you treat her like a lady, young man. Got it?”
“Got it Dude! I mean Lieutenant! I’ll make a lady outa her yet! Thanks for the money too! Ya know how rough it is on the town’s wages! Although you and the Board seem to be doin’ alright. I hope I can get to where you are, Sir!”
“Don’t worry Billy, you’ve got a good 40 years or so to work your way up! Go have fun tonight!”
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haoboutyou · 4 months
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foolish one (stop checking your mailbox) | joshua hong
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fluff, slightly suggestive | 1154 words | some cursing
a/n: wifey @bluehoodiewoozi: "if you write me an encouraging boyfriend shua x burnt out uni student y/n fic, i'll be the happiest woman on earth" except I wrote none of that :D
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The university has dedicated study rooms all around campus, providing a conducive space for students to catch up on their coursework, computer work, or reading. It’s a great place to comfortably work on thesis papers without the stuffy silence of the library, or the rowdiness of the campus courtyard. It is not, unfortunately, a good place to audibly express disappointment every 10 minutes.
Joshua can’t take it anymore. How many times does he have to watch you check your phone whenever a notification pops up, how many times does that hopeful look on your face morph into disappointment when it was just another push-ad from a shopping app? 
He’s just about had it when you let out an audible sigh for the nth time, once again disrupting your supposedly productive study session. And so he bites the bullet, hoping that whatever it is that is distracting you from completing that dreaded thesis is worth all the sighing for.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Huh?” You look up from the laptop, annoyed that he distracted you just as you were about to concentrate.
Right on cue your phone lights up. He snatches the phone faster than you could reach for– it prompts a disgruntled “Shua no!” out of you. Joshua gives the notification a once over before he places the phone screen-up, crossing his arms. 
“You can’t possibly be waiting for–” He squints at the screen, reading out the pop-up banner. “ ‘60% off your next coffee’– Oh… That’s a really good deal.” He looks back up at you, watching as you sink back into your seat at the announcement. “Anyways, you’re clearly not waiting for the coffee. Spill.”
A minute of silence passes as Joshua watches you gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing but unable to find the right words to convey your current dilemma.
“...It’s Lucas–“ 
“You’re still talking to him?!” His disrupted yell earns him multiple death stares from others in the study room. 
You wince at his outburst, but you know it comes from a good place. Lucas, despite being known as the worst frat boy to come out of this university, is also the smoothest talker; somehow, he manages to get every girl on campus swooning at his feet. Joshua personally thinks he’s just a load of bullshit, that you could do better than that walking STD stick. Still,  he sighs when he sees your downcast look, staring blankly ahead at your dimmed laptop screen. 
“Y/n, he’s a player. You got a taste of his dick once and it was good, sure, but you didn’t mean anything to him. I’m serious!”
You hate the connotation that came with his words– it felt like he was calling you a whore. Your brows furrow deeper. You know he didn’t mean to, but it still sounds like that, and it still hurts. 
He realises his mistake almost immediately because as soon as those words come out, he backpedals on them so fast.
“No wait, I– I didn’t mean–” He’s instantly shut down by you, cutting through him like a knife.
You avoid looking straight into Joshua’s eyes, fighting the magnetic pull towards his chocolate eyes. Your next words are soft enough that he has to strain his ears to pick them up. “He isn’t like that though. He said what we had was different! He said I was special, that–“
“That no other girl could compare to you? Y/n, he says that to everyone!” Joshua’s exasperated. His heart breaks a little when he spots how glassy your eyes have become, but he presses on, wanting to tell you the hard truth. “Do you know what he does back at the frat house? He marches around, boasting about how many he’s slept with and what they’re like in bed. He shares those stories like some kind of sick trophy. He’s a disgusting, sorry excuse of a man!” 
Joshua leans forward across the table, engulfing your small hands with his. He rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, trying to comfort you when notices silent tears running down your face.
“No…” You hiccup, trying to get your words across your sniffles. “I swear, I can change him!” Even you know how ridiculous you sound; there's no changing a fratboy so set in his ways like Lucas. You slump over your laptop, begrudgingly wallowing over your words. You sigh. It’s impossible. You’re just a hopeless romantic chasing after the affections of a man who gave you an ounce of attention.
“I really thought he was gonna be the one, Shua.”
 “There, there. You could do so much better and you know it. Don’t be so foolish!”
“Like who?!” You can’t help but snap at him. You’re desperate, of course; trying to shield your already humiliated and broken heart from his harsh (albeit truthful) words.
His voice drops to a whisper. 
“Like me?”
His grip on you hardens. There’s determination and endearment directed straight at you, that you’ve never noticed before, pouring through his eyes. He gulps; his biggest secret is out. The long-time crush he’s been harbouring on you is now public– to you, at least.
“I can treat you better.” He reaches out to wipe a tear from your cheek, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. 
You sigh. You’re doing a lot of that today; it's becoming a bit pathetic. “Shua, I'm not in the mood for you joking–”
“I’m not! Hell, I’m already letting you wear my jacket!” He tries to be serious, gesturing to the oversized jacket he lent you earlier, that envelops you around your shoulders. 
He heaves a sigh of relief when you let out a chuckle. His large hands find yours again. You feel yourself calming down, but your cheeks still heat up from his sudden proximity. 
You cock your head to the side. “Why didn’t you say anything before? I mean–” You gesture to the space between you. “Before all this?”
“Because you looked so happy, and I was afraid of ruining it all.” A shy smile graces his face. “Let me make up for it, please?”
You hold your stare, making him wait in anticipation. Finally, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you reply. 
“Buy me lunch, and I’ll think about it.”
“Lunch? Yeah, I can do that.” He can’t help but full-on grin at you. Standing up to gather his things, he extends a hand to pull you up. Ever the gentleman, you think. 
“Lucas was pretty good in bed though. Think you can one-up that?” You joke.
Joshua pulls you into his chest, one arm wrapping around you while the other picks up your bag. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you an even better time later.” 
“Later…?” Your voice trails as you let him whisk you away for lunch. He wiggles his brows at you, mischievous demeanour unveiling. 
And so, your thesis remains incomplete yet another day.
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getvalentined · 1 month
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The Big Patreon Breakdown
Okay, Patreon's Discord Q&A ended on the 16th, and I've been waiting to see if anything else happened—like maybe a a public announcement from Patreon instead of emails sent exclusively to creators and a video hidden on the CEO's personal YT page—but nothing has happened, so I'm gonna do a breakdown of what we're looking at.
This is an EXTREMELY long post. I am not putting it behind a cut. I'm not sorry.
Short attention span version here.
I. The iOS processing fees are a smokescreen covering up the actual devastating changes that Patreon is forcing creators into.
The iOS fees are trash, 30 percent is extortion and we all know it—but that's not the biggest issue at hand here. Patreon is using this event as an excuse to change the entire structure of the creator side of their platform, and blaming Apple to avoid getting backlash.
They tripled their platform and processing fees in 2017, passing it on to patrons without notice, and the subsequent hemorrhage of paying users forced them to walk it back. They tried to force everyone onto their rolling billing model in 2021, and the entire community pushed back so hard they were forced again to walk it back.
This time, they're doing both and insisting it's Apple's fault, and everyone is taking that at face value because Apple sucks. And Apple does suck, but Patreon is getting what they've wanted for years by catering to Apple.
Oh, also, they're forcing creators to notify their patrons of the billing model changes (with a suggested template that explicitly refers to it as a decision made by the creator, even though nobody is making any decisions here except Jack Conte) rather than doing it themselves.
II. Patreon is not going to change course for any reason. This is set in stone.
There are multiple proofs for this, including but not limited to:
One-on-one calls between the platform's top earners and the CEO, Jack Conte, wherein the vibe was apparently not "What can we do to support your business in order to retain your place on our platform?" but rather "We know that the only way this works is if we don't do it, but how can we keep you from complaining about it any more than you already have?" One creator explained in granular detail how they run their business through this platform and why changing their billing model would ruin literally everything, and Conte responded with "Is this an essential part of your offering?"
The Patreon Team on Discord has continued to shut down all discussion of alternative options with assertions that Apple won't allow it, even if those alternatives were suggested based on legal precedent set by lawsuits against Apple, and the declaration that they will not be allowing the app to be removed from the App Store no matter what because it's the single most important and integral avenue of creator growth on the platform. (Put a pin in that.)
The platform's top earner is on the pay-per-creation billing model, the one that is going to be hit the hardest; creators on this model stand to lose literally 90 percent of their income overnight. This creator and his team were as blindsided as the rest of us, and they've been offered no assistance except for a complex math equation to try to calculate how much they should be charging people on fixed-price tiers, and no assurance except "the iOS app is the platform's highest source of engagement and is necessary to help you continue to grow."
Pay-upfront (PUF) and pay-per-creation (PPC) billing is going away for new accounts and anyone who doesn't opt out via Patreon's convoluted backend before November 1 of this year, and anyone who doesn't manually switch over to their rolling billing cycle will be automatically pushed into it on November 1, 2025. This means that PUF creators no longer have the promise of a steady paycheck when they need it, early enough in the month to pay rent and bills, while PPC creators are losing their entire business model all at once, which has resulted in a loss of 75 to 90 percent of income for multiple PPC creators who have tried to switch to the rolling billing structure in the past. They are killing these people's livelihoods and they know it, they have seen the data to prove it, but they will not be swayed.
III. Patreon claims the iOS app is the highest source of engagement on the platform at 40 percent—but will not define what "engagement" means, and staff refuse to share detailed analytics or data on the revenue share coming from the app.
Several creators, some with a couple dozen patrons and some with thousands, polled their audience to get a feel for how many of them used the app. Consistently across every creative industry, genre, and form of media, the answer was 2 percent or less. The average across a dozen-plus polls of actual active patrons, numbering into the thousands, is that around 85 percent of patrons access the platform exclusively via the web, whether on desktop or mobile. The majority didn't even know there was an app.
Further, Patreon would not explain what "engagement" means, but did not deny the possibility that dismissing an app notification on your phone counts as an "engagement."
When Patreon was asked for data on how often people pledged to support a creator via the iOS app, the only response was the claim that information is "sensitive to [Patreon's] business" and can't be shared. In a creator-exclusive server. With the people who bring that revenue onto the platform in the first place. And have our own analytics that we can look at individually, which show an average of 0 to 0.5 percent revenue from the iOS app.
IV. Patreon does not have a refund policy in place to work with Apple, and has given no implications of intention to work with Apple to shorten the time it takes for funds from iOS purchases to be paid out to creators, which is currently 75 days.
Yes, you read that correctly: at the moment, it takes 75 days before creators can cash out funds processed via iOS. On top of that, Apple's refund policy is 60 days, and the creator is not involved in the process whatsoever—if a malicious actor pledges to your page, downloads all your work over the course of a month, and then pings Apple for a refund? Apple gets to decide whether or not they get that refund.
Patreon's general refund policy is that it's up to the creator 99.9 percent of the time, with very rare cases of fraud requiring Patreon's intervention. In the case of pledges and Commerce sales via iOS, the creator has no say, and Patreon currently has no policy to protect them. They've stated that they're working on a refund policy that will work with Apple's guidelines to keep everyone happy, but at this point we all know what that means—they're just going to use Apple's refund policy.
They also wouldn't say whether or not creators would be on the hook for Apple's added processing fees, as is usually the case with other big payment processors, but it sounds like we are! So if someone pays $14.50 on the iOS app, the creator gets $10, can't pay it out, and then the malicious actor can call for a refund weeks later and the creator will owe $14.50—in spite of only ever having seen $10 and never being able to pay it out because the 75 hold hadn't passed. Sounds great!
V. Patreon's own graphics meant to explain why this is necessary and how the new fees work are not correct.
I'm gonna let these mostly speak for themselves:
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The sale price listed on this graphic is $10, but adding together the three fees listed gives a total of $11.35. This is likely a copying error, as 4.35 is clearly not 30% of 10, but the lack of attention to detail on one of the only two pieces of official material that we have which refer directly to the numbers on which Patreon is signing away our livelihoods is slightly concerning.
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This one totals up to 103 percent! (Actually closer to 104, since I rounded Android and Mobile down by about a quarter percent each.) The 40 percent figure on the iOS bar is based on the figure given to us by Patreon staff, and was used to place the markers to denote individual percentages on the other three.
Patreon made these and gave them to us with the assertion that they were proof that the iOS app is indispensable—why should we trust anything they say about numbers if the charts they gave us are literally impossible?
VI. Patreon refuses to offer any promises to 18+ creators that they will not be removed from the app in order to adhere to Apple's content guidelines.
Instead, Patreon staff's response to this request for reassurance is "We have no plans to remove 18+ creators from the Patreon app." You may note that's phrased very specifically, and leaves a hole big enough to drive a freight train full of iPhones straight through. They have no plans to remove 18+ creators from the app. When asked for clarification on this, confirmation that they would not be removing us from the platform if Apple pushed them to do so regardless of whether or not they have plans, this sentiment was simply repeated in more words and with more apologies, along with a reminder that Patreon has had to change their terms for 18+ creators several times already in order to keep up with laws and competition.
VII. All the features Patreon is insisting are integral for creator growth are inaccessible to 18+ creators, and questions about this were either dismissed, redirected, or ignored.
Remember how the iOS app is the single most important and integral avenue for character growth on the platform? Well, 18+ creators are not discoverable on the platform, regardless of the avenue of access. We are not visible on the app unless you have it installed, are logged in, are already following us on the platform, and click an external link to be directed to our pages from somewhere else via a mobile web browser. There is no way to find us on the platform itself.
Other features that staff insist are necessary for growth to which 18+ creators do not have access:
Patreon creator search (on web, Android and iOS apps)
Mass post editing (now called the "Library," which reads as "Something Went Wrong" for me and other 18+ creators who tried to get to it)
On-platform video hosting
Built-in cross-creator recommendations
All on-platform "commerce" features (both digital and physical goods)
The ability to market ourselves by linking to Patreon from our social media and vice-versa (we're basically not allowed to do this or risk being banned)
Yeah, about that first and that last point. We're hidden from searches on the platform, and we can't link to our pages from social media or risk permanent suspension. We cannot grow in this fashion at all, and in fact 18+ creators are getting all the downsides of this switch (except maybe for the app fee, since you can't fucking find us to pledge on the app) with none of the benefits. Nothing they are doing here will help us grow, because they've kneecapped us already. Now they're going after our capacity to obtain a steady paycheck at the beginning of the month, too.
VIII. Patreon's iOS app is currently (as of August 18, 2024) in violation of Apple's guidelines for app ratings; staff did not state any intention to become compliant by raising the app's rating as needed to maintain their 18+ creator community.
The App Store guidelines on creator apps state that they must be rated equal to the highest rated creator content on their platform. In spite of hosting 18+ content, which requires a 17+ rating per Apple, Patreon is rated 12+ in the App Store. Increasing the rating to 17+ would cut out the entire market of wealthy teenagers with iPhones, and since everything else being done here is intended to please Apple, it's unlikely this will be the point that Patreon finally gives an inch for its creators. The exact response from staff on this was "We hear and acknowledge your inputs on the app rating and are exploring our options there." Their "options" on this are to increase the rating, or to remove all 18+ content from the platform. That's it. Those are their options. Why do those need exploring, if they really give a shit about the 18+ community?
I know a lot of people out there are going to say that it would be nice if Patreon would "get rid of the porn," but you need to understand something: 18+ content is not all sexual.
18+ content can and does also include:
Horror (particularly body horror, which is explicitly or implicitly banned on all current adult-specific creator platforms, leaving me nowhere to go when Patreon kicks me)
True crime (murder, violence, theft, etc., is all 18+)
Health (blood/discussion of blood is 18+ regardless of context)
Education (what if you learn about war? that's 18+)
Trauma recovery (the word "r#pe" makes everything around it 18+)
Profanity (ko-fi marks creators 18+ for saying "fuck")
Languages (because you might learn profanity)
Weaponsmithing (because weapons are dangerous)
Leatherworking (because leather can be a fetish)
Shoemaking (feet can also be a fetish)
...even more I'm not bothering to list here.
Implying that they somehow didn't know about this extremely important part of the guidelines—which are being used as an excuse to force the top earner on the platform to ruin his entire business model—is absolute nonsense. Patreon knows about this requirement, they haven't taken any steps to comply based on their current creator population, and I will be shocked if they do. Much easier to just kick us all off, since we can barely use the damn platform as it is.
The entire thing makes no sense. Patreon is losing out on so much money by doing this—they're crippling all their highest-earning creators to keep the iOS app running, and it's going to hurt everyone except for Apple. The only reason I can think that they would refuse to budge on this is that there's something else going on behind the scenes between Patreon and Apple. That, or the company is intentionally throwing itself into an extremely drawn out death spiral. But we all know which of those is the more likely scenario here.
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creedslove · 1 year
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BETRAYED - PART NINE
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Pedro Pascal x f!reader
Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart
Warnings: fluff, like, a lot of fluff, implied age gap, mentions of death, and descriptions of a catholic wedding (I just wrote down how they go in my country, but no, it's not *the* wedding you're thinking about) and mentions of smut
A/N: Just one more chapter and we wrap up this story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one because I know my heart melted while I wrote it!!!
A/N part 2: still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!
3.4k words
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT
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One year later
You stood at the altar feeling excitedly but also a little anxious. A bunch of familiar faces stared at you taking in all the details of the ceremony that was about to begin.
You could even spot Pedro among the guests, he looked handsome, as he always did, his hair was a little longer now, making it wilder in a way it made him sexier than before. He noticed your eyes on him and winked, as if he encouraged you in that situation
And that's why being a bridesmaid was so fun. While the focus wasn't necessarily you and your group of bridesmaids, you were all in the spotlight while the bride took long to arrive.
You could practically hear all the thoughts crossing people's minds, how they judged the dresses, the makeups and the hairstyles. It always happened and you wouldn't be any exception, but not that you cared very much about it, as you were so happy for your best friend Nat tying the knot with her dream guy, nothing would bother you at all.
As you felt Pedro's gaze on you, burning your skin, you thought of everything that happened this past year. It didn't even feel real, after you left his home that morning, you never returned. And he kept his word of not coming after you, which was all you needed in order to get your life back on track.
The first thing you did when you got home was to change all the locks to prevent anyone from breaking into your house. It didn't matter if it was Liev, a burglar or Pedro himself. You never wanted to walk into your home, a place you assumed safe and find someone uninvited there. Then, your second part of your action plan was to look for another gym, so you could train without having to change your schedule every single time you didn't want to run into someone in there. You wanted to exercise, to see people, to feel the endorphins flood your body and not step on eggshells all the time. Needless to say, it was a good decision.
Then, you just focused on yourself.
You finally finished your studies, you found a job that made you happier and paid well too. You took short trips here and there, getting to know new places and you also looked at yourself in the mirror and realized you were more beautiful than ever, and that was why you were loving yourself, you took care of yourself and you put yourself in the first place, just like it should've been from the beginning.
You still had feelings for Pedro, of course, but the distance helped manage it, some days you were able to go by without even thinking of him, and others you missed him deeply. You didn't know if his feelings for you changed, but you weren't as close as you once were. However, you weren't estranged either. It was just that your lifestyles got simply too different and your lives took different paths, making it so hard to be around each other.
After Pedro's career took off he became almost impossible to reach - physically at least.
He was already well-known when you two had all that story going on, of course, but now it had reached stratospherical levels. He was a big deal, he was a big celebrity, all your social media was flooded by videos, his interviews and his pictures. You began following his career, from afar, admiring him, how far he'd come, feeling your chest burst with pride every time he was nominated for an award or you saw him walking down a red carpet. It was still disturbing to you to see how much he was harassed by the media, how he couldn't walk down the street without being photographed and how they picked on the whole daddy thing. Sometimes it was a little funny though, seeing him blush and her visibly embarrassed at that. You often chuckled to yourself when you eventually saw his fans writing the sweetest things about him, how they called him their boyfriend or future husband, if only they knew your story, they'd call you crazy for turning him down. Because to them, Pedro was perfect, a prince charming. And to you, he was just a human being, with flaws and qualities, like everyone else.
You two didn't go the whole year without speaking, quite the opposite, your phone would buzz eventually, receiving a text or two from him. And you would often text him as well. Just simple things: birthday messages, wishing each other happy holidays or checking up on each other. Nothing too intimate, but enough to show you still cared and worried about each other.
He watched your stories and liked your pictures, and you did the same. Being there, even if you weren't there anymore. It was confusing, but it worked for a while.
When you realized you were able to see his pictures with fans, co-stars and women you had no idea who they were and your whole body didn't heat up in anxiety and jealousy and your heart didn't drop at your toes, at the mere thought crossing your mind of them being his lay for the night, you knew you were ready to let him in.
Not exactly let him in, you didn't know if he still cared about you like that, or if you would still have anything in common, or if he would even bother becoming your friend again now that he had met some many different people. But you still decided to text him, best case scenario he would reply and you would have a conversation, worst case scenario he would leave you on 'seen' and you would move on with your life, because you lived for yourself now, and not for Pedro.
Of course he replied to your message right away. He smiled big when he read it and couldn't even believe after all that time you were the one engaging in a conversation with him. God knows how many times it took all of his willpower to erase the gigantic texts he wrote you and just drop a 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Birthday, mariposa' he'd promised you he would let you live your life, and just like a butterfly, he let you be free but now you were flying to him again - maybe, that was what he hoped at least, so he allowed himself to daydream.
You'd sent a simple text telling him how much you enjoyed his new series, and if he had time next time he was in town, maybe you could go for drinks. He replied almost immediately, saying he couldn't wait.
And your conversation began.
Slowly, you would text through the day about many things, while he was away and lonely, he told you all about his shooting routine and what he did for fun so far away from home.
You updated him on everything knew in your life, seeing how proud of you and happy he really got. You briefly mentioned you were thinking of learning a second language, to which he quickly suggested Spanish.
But when your uncle died you didn't get a text from him. Instead, Pedro managed to get a short break from filming and hopped on a plane. He wanted to be there for you, it didn't matter to him if he was going to be there as a friend or as a possible boyfriend, he just wanted to hold you while you cried because he knew how important family was to you. He wanted to attend the funeral by your side, to dry your tears and tell you comforting words. And that was exactly what he did.
You couldn't believe your eyes when he showed up there, in black and pulling you into his embrace, which reminded you it used to be your favorite place in the world and at that moment, it became your favorite again.
You had no strength to discuss feelings with him, and he wasn't after that either. He just wanted to try and make that moment a little less miserable for you.
But the moment the funeral service was over, Pedro would have to come back to his work again. He apologized a hundred times for not being able to stay longer with you, but you assured him it was alright, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way just to be with you.
He said goodbye with one of his warm hugs and a peck on the cheek, that landed way too close to your lips, it didn't matter if it was on purpose or not. The damage had already been done.
From the moment you realized he had left his job - the thing you assumed he loved the most in life - for you without expecting anything in return. That familiar warmth in your chest appeared after months and months of it being dormant. It was hard to deny how much you loved Pedro.
•••
You had always heard horrible stories about women who agreed to becoming bridesmaids and had to deal with the infamous bridezilla. You were sure it wouldn't be Nat's case, but those women were not exaggerating when they said you would have to put a lot of effort, energy and even money to a moment that wasn't even yours.
While all the guests were comfortably sitting down, you along with the other girls and the bestmen had to stand up the whole ceremony. You knew the priest was probably saying beautiful words about love and stuff, as you could see the emotion in some people's eyes and how some of them even sniffed and shed one or two tears, but you were just not paying attention. Church services weren't really your thing, you tried really hard not to get bored, but it was too late, you were already bored.
That's why your eyes scanned the whole place, not really focusing on anything in particular, you just hoped time would go by faster and you wished you would all skip to the reception, because there were other things you wanted to do and mostly other people you wanted to talk to. You looked all over the church decoration and though it looked very beautiful and elegant you thought about how you would never have a wedding in a place like that. Then you watched Nat's wedding dress closely. Of course you'd seen it a couple of times already since the early stages of planning and preparing the wedding, but at that moment it looked different and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if you'd ever get married at all and wear a pretty dress like that. You shook those thoughts away from your mine and looked at the guests absent-mindedly, not watching anything in particular until your eyes locked with Pedro's.
He didn't even blink and sustained your look, he was completely oblivious to a wedding happening just a few feet away from you, as you were really the only thing that mattered to him.
After flying to you for your uncle's funeral, you weren't able to meet again, as he was more and more caught up at work and you also had your own life. So when he got the invitation to the wedding, he didn't think twice before confirming his attendance, though he didn't really care that much about the bride and groom, he was still thankful to them.
You blushed softly and smiled big at him, he wasn't too distant, just a few rows away from the altar, close enough for you to see when he mouthed 'hermosa' making you look down in shyness. You knew Nat and Pedro had seen each other maybe five or six times and the only times she talked to him was to tell him how much her boyfriend - and now husband - loved Mandalorian. So you knew she had only invited him because of you and Pedro had only showed up to the wedding because of you as well. It felt quite good, you had to admit and for that, you even forced yourself to pay attention to the ceremony again.
Once the reception started you thought the fun would start as well, but you were wrong. Now, the bridesmaids duty kept you busy each passing second. First you had to follow the bride and groom to the photo session, then you had to assist the bride to make her big entrance, and after it you had to help her go to the restroom, which was the most chaotic part: four girls helping another lift up layers and layers of cloth in order to be able to pee.
And when you realized, it was already dinner time. As the food was served people stayed at their tables, usually guests were starving after the whole marathon of sitting through a long and tedious ceremony, then endless waiting until the bride and groom showed up.
The whole time you and Pedro exchanged looks and smiles, he even texted you in hopes to talk to you, but you were way too busy to check your phone, at the same time as soon as some guests recognized Pedro, he was bombarded with requests for selfies, autographs and girls throwing themselves at him. And he was way too nice to decline those requests even if it bothered him - though he declined the girls right away.
You thanked the heavens when dinner was finished, you knew the dance floor would be finally open to the guests until you remembered a very tacky wedding custom.
The bride was going to throw the bouquet. You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, you've always hated that moment, ever since you were a kid and your parents dragged you to relative's weddings.
Just a bunch of women going all savage over a couple of flowers made you cringe to the core, so you stepped aside and waited for the small crowd to gather. You tried to brush it off at the insistence of some people, but when Nat cleared her throat and gave you accusatory eyes, you even tried to argue. But she motioned her head towards Pedro and you saw him waiting for you to get in the small commotion. He had his hands inside his pocket and a dirty smirk, he couldn't wait to see you pick the bouquet, he was sure you'd look gorgeous.
You on the other hand felt embarrassed and awkward to stand there, Nat got in position and showed all the single ladies the bouquet, making them all shout in excitement. She looked at you and winked softly, and you gulped. Oh no, there was only one thing worse than fighting over a bouquet of flowers in front of a crowd of people, and that was definitely receiving the bouquet out of pity.
So when she threw it towards you, you stood still, making absolutely no move and watched it as it flew right past you.
You turned around and saw when two women were almost on the floor, struggling to get the bouquet. Nat frowned at you, confused as to why you didn't get it, you just shrugged at her. You didn't want to get married, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and when you thought you were finally able to do it, the DJ announced it was time for the waltz.
You rolled your eyes, as annoyance spread through your body. It had been hours all you were trying to do was to exchange a couple of words with Pedro, but that seemed impossible.
The guests all gathered around the bride and groom as they showed their rehearsed steps, some people swooning over them but you just looked around, trying to find Pedro, needing to see him and talk to him. But he wasn't there anymore.
Had he gone home? You knew he enjoyed parties, but you weren't sure about wedding parties, especially the ones where he was harassed every five minutes by people who insistently wanted pictures or just goof around a movie star.
But he wouldn't just leave you without saying goodbye, would he? Over the months your relationship became stronger even if you weren't physically close.
You were deep in thought as you felt someone touching your wrist, making you jump a little at the sudden touch and turned around, seeing Pedro standing there.
And he looked good. Very good.
He was wearing a dark suit, all in black. It hung tight to the right places as he looked absolutely like sin. His hair was messy like always and you caught a few gray streaks on his beard and that made you weak at the knees.
You smiled big and held his hand "Pedro! I thought you'd left!"
He raised his eyebrow and chuckled "do you really think I'd sit through a whole wedding and then leave before talking to the only reason why I'm here in the first place?" He held your hand and eyed you up and down, not even hiding how much he appreciated your looks "I don't mean to be one of those bitchy people who come to the party and trash talk it, but when we get married we'll have a lot less church and a lot more party"
Pedro's words stirred something inside of you, even if it was a joke, you felt yourself blushing.
"Too bad it won't happen, I mean, I didn't catch the bouquet so…" you replied in a shy way and made him laugh as well
"Yeah, well, we can figure this out later, right now I'd like to have a dance with the most beautiful girl at the party?" He offered his hand to you, and you hesitated at first
"It depends, Pedro" you saw his confusion, finding it quite amusing
"It depends on what, hermosa?" He questioned curiously
"Where's your plus one?" You saw how he frowned not really getting where you were going
"What plus one, Y/N? I came alone…"
You laughed softly and nodded, taking a step closer and accepting his invitation.
"I was just making sure, you know, I was friends with a guy once and he pulled such a jerk move, where he invited a plus one to a party and ditched her to dance with another girl and ended up taking this other girl home and left his plus one really heartbroken"
A deep shade of crimson spread through his face as he was at a loss of words for a while. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.
"H-he sounds like a real dick" he replied a little self conscious, not sure if you were joking or playing games
"He really was, but I heard he managed to change into a better person and his plus one even forgave him after all"
His smile was wide and the relief in his eyes was visible as he wrapped his arms around your waist and glued your body to his. It was a slow ballad and you wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time you swayed your hips together.
"Thank you for forgiving me, I really missed you" he whispered against your ear, your faces were inches apart and you closed your eyes, his cologne lingering on your skin. You took your hand to the back of his neck, stroking his hair and feeling it softly between your fingers.
"We needed this, Pedro… I guess now we could start things over" you said and welcomed his lips against yours, as they crashed in a needy contact. You moaned lowly at the feel of his tongue against yours. His hands squeezed your waist and if you could get any closer to him, you would have, because you could swear that was not enough.
His kiss was intense and unlike the other times, he wasn't trying to overpower you and make you accept him playing dirty with your hormones, he was kissing you, feeling you and taking you as his. And you wanted it as much as he did.
When you broke the kiss, he nibbled your bottom lip, caressing your cheek and not giving a care in the world if someone filmed or photographed you.
You danced as if there was no tomorrow, as the ballad was over, you danced with Pedro to any kind of songs that came in the playlist, you had fun and when sexier songs came up, you dance even more, loving how you rubbed your body against his and Pedro never spared any neck kiss or groping your body.
By the time you could feel a tent against your ass, you turned to him, kissing his lips again.
"I guess it's time to get out of here, princesa" he whispered into your ear and squeezed your ass. You moaned against his lips as you couldn't agree more.
_____
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, it was just so easy to write I was really into it. I loved it so much and I can't believe this series is almost over 😞 also, if y'all don't go soft on Pedro now I don't know what to do, LMAO
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Just Do It
Request: Hi I don’t know if you’re still taking asks and I hate when people ask me stuff when my inbox is closed, but if you are could you please write a Roy Kent x reader with an age gap? That’s literally all I have and I know you touched on it it Superstar and I totally get it if you don’t have time/don’t want to! Love your writing so much and hope your time in Vegas is fun!
Roy Kent x Reader
0.9k words
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, age gap (ages not mentioned, but reader is in their 20s, Roy is early 40s)
A/N: Thanks for the request! I hope you like it ❤️❤️ (also, Vegas was lots of fun, just way too hot for my taste!)
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Roy sat in the corner of Ola’s watching you carefully as you chatted with some of the players. You’d been working at Nelson Road for a couple of months now, and he’d fallen hard and fast for you. Of course, people noticed. Rebecca found any reason she could to send you to the coaches’ office. Keeley asked him almost daily if he thought you looked pretty that particular day. Jamie kept leaving Viagra advertisements on his desk. Even Beard gave him a little nudge every time you walked by. It seemed like everyone at the Dog Track knew how he felt except, well, you.
“Watcha lookin’ at Coach?” Jamie stood over Roy, following the older man’s gaze. “Ohhh.”
Roy scowled. “Oh, what?” Roy knew what. He knew exactly what.
Jamie grinned. “Just ask her out already, lad. She’s not gonna say no, I swear.”
“And why is that?” Roy huffed, taking a long swig of his beer.
“Well for one, I bet she was raised to respect her elders.”
A low growl escaped from the depths of Roy’s lungs. “That’s why I’m not going to fucking ask her out. She’s what, like your age? No thanks. I don’t need all the jokes about being old enough to be her dad or asking her to move into a nursing home with me or whatever jokes you’ve been saving in a notebook.”
Jamie shrugged. “I actually write them in the notes app on my phone. Because I’m not an old man.”
“Yeah, you can fucking leave now,” Roy grumbled, giving Jamie a shove.
Before walking away, Jamie called over his shoulder, “Do what Nike says, Coach. Just do it!”
With a grunt, Roy returned to staring at you. His heartbeat stuttered when you looked up from your conversation with Dani to look his way. Something sparkled in your eyes when you caught him staring that made Roy’s throat go dry. It got worse when you got up and walked over to him, plopping your beer on his table, and dropping yourself into the chair across from him.
“How’s it going?” you asked cheerfully, offering him your best smile.
“Not bad,” he mumbled, tapping his own beer bottle. “Yourself?”
You shrugged. “Mostly okay.” There was something almost glum in your expression.
Roy wasn’t used to that; you almost always had a smile on your face. “Fuck’s wrong?”
There was a long moment of the two of you staring at each other, your mouth slightly open, as if you were trying to figure out what to say. Roy’s mind went rapid wondering what it was. Something about a boyfriend? Were you leaving Richmond? Did you know about Roy’s dumb little crush? Did you want him to leave you the fuck alone?
Finally, you let out a sigh. “Right. Um, so I’m going to ask you something, and you’re going to answer, and then we are going to pretend like this conversation never happened. Deal?”
“Depends on the question,” Roy answered, leaning forward.
Your head tilted back and forth, something Roy often saw you do when you were nervous or thinking hard about something. He thought it was fucking adorable, although now it made him nervous.
Your face was beet red as your fingernails scratched the label on your beer bottle. “I just… was wondering why you haven’t asked me out.”
Fuck. Maybe Jamie was right, maybe Roy was just one good scare away from having a fucking heart attack. His jaw slacked a little as he stared at you, not quite sure what to say. But seeing the fear that swam in the eyes he loved to see, he knew he needed to say something.
“What makes you think I was going to?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The way your shoulders slumped told him that this was the absolute wrong thing to say.
“Oh. Shit.” Your eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry. I completely misinterpreted things. I’m an absolute knob, thinking that you- and I-” When your eyes opened, Roy swore he saw tears. “Like I said, pretend this never happened.” You shot to your feet, a look of absolute humiliation frozen on your face.
Instinctively, Roy grabbed your wrist, gazing up at you, feeling like his stomach was twisting and untwisting over and over. “Too old,” he mumbled, feeling his own face go red now. “Aren’t I?”
To his surprise, you shrugged. “Dunno. I mean, sure, you’re older than me by a bit. But I don’t really care, if I’m being honest. I dunno, I thought that maybe there was… something.”
Roy licked his lips. Like Nike always said- just do it.
“There is,” he admitted. “At least, for me there is. Something there, I mean.” He ducked his head, ignoring the fact that he still held your wrist in his hand. “I fucking like you.”
A smile replaced your somber expression. “Oh really?” You resumed your seat, sliding your arm back so your hand was in his. “Tell me more.”
Roy glanced down at your hands, a small smirk creeping across his face. “How about I tell you somewhere my team isn’t watching us?” He nodded behind you, where Jamie and Dani and the others were staring at you two with great interest, beaming and holding their breaths.
You raised an eyebrow at Roy. “Roy Kent, are you asking if I want to get out of here?”
“Maybe,” he grunted. “I know a decent place to get a drink. What d’you say?”
Keeping hold of his hand, you stood up and nodded towards the door. “I say let’s do it.”
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jewbeloved · 1 year
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Stan, kyle, kenny and craig w a gn reader whos an artist/painter who has tons of paintings/drawings of them and gets popular bc of their paintings/drawings
Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Craig with an artist s/o🎨🖌️🖼️
YEESSSS THE SMALL GIFS AND PICTURES ARE FIXED LETS GOOOOOO!
Warnings: None
Gender: Neutral
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💙 Stan Marsh 🐕
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Oh he's definitely blushing, and I mean literally.
If you have a room or a secret gallery you keep all of your paintings in, half of the place would have been filled with paintings of Stan and when he sees those paintings, he absolutely gets butterflies in his stomach.
"Ah....(Name)......", He has no words 🥺
His friends would probably also tease him because half of your paintings you made are about him besides your other ones.
Stan really loves the paintings you made of him and he might keep one of them in his room (If you let him)
But he would probably blush every single time he looks at the painting though.
You would also probably sell your paintings to people, but you ain't selling the ones you made of Stan. Those are yours to keep and nobody else can have them except you or Stan :) 💙💙💙💙💙
💚 Kyle Broflovski 💐
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Not Kyle just admiring your paintings while you're not looking. He tryna be sneaky but you caught him :>
Kyle would find it a bit strange that most of your paintings are about him, but he isn't complaining. Who wouldn't want to see an art portrait of themselves that was made by their s/o?
You even have some paintings where Kyle doesn't have his hat on. Gotta be honest, if you were planning to sell your paintings Kyle probably wouldn't like you selling the ones that have him without his hat on, you know how insecure he gets about his hair.
But it is YOUR paintings after all and you get to decide what to do with them so Kyle can't stop you on that. But it would make him a bit happy if you didn't sell the ones where his hat isn't on his head.
If your paintings got even more popular, how many cheesy poofs do you wanna bet that Cartman is gonna make fun of you? I'm betting 1000.
He'll probably tell you that you're obsessed with Kyle or he's like your pet or something.
Cartman got paint splattered in his face for that anyways. 💚💚💚💚💚💚
🧡 Kenny Mccormick 🐁
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Kenny is definitely going to tease you. Not in a bad way of course.
He thinks it's extremely cute that you like making paintings of him! If he could, he would probably keep like 3 or 4 of your paintings in his room.
But he probably might hide the paintings from his parents just in case they tried to sell your hard work and make money off of it. It's your paintings, not theirs so they don't have the right to sell it.
He will let Karen see the paintings though, and she absolutely loves the paintings of her big brother! She probably might even ask if you could do one of her as well!
If your paintings get popular but somebody teases you for it, they're getting the same fate as Cartman. Nobody makes fun of Kenny's s/o and gets away with it =) 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
💙 Craig Tucker 🐹
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He would probably blush a little when he sees all of the paintings you made of him. (He definitely didn't try to pull you into a big hug afterwards-)
His friends would probably be jealous of him if you show off your paintings of Craig to everyone in class.
Craig wouldn't brag about it, but he might slip in some giggles here and there.
Gotta say, if you make a painting of you and him cuddling together. That's definitely going to make his face as red like a tomato, unexpected paintings like that is one of the ways to get Craig in a flustered mess.
Not like he never blushed a lot around you :>
He keeps an expressionless face on the outside but he's secretly burning up on the inside. It also isn't hard to see behind that little blush of his as well if you know him too well.💙💙💙💙💙💛💛💛💛💛
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Tumblr: Blaze is now out!
Me: Immediately going to turn it off as soon as I update my app.
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evangelineshifts · 8 months
Note
I need to tell someone this at least.
So this new pjo show is a complete joke, especially to some of the oj book fans(like me) who are so disappointed by how it turned out. The acting was stale(actors weren’t given anything to work with so fair), the visuals weren’t anything to speak of, the plot was nonexistent, everything was going too fast or too slow at all the wrong times, there was so much telling and almost no showing it felt like a voiceover or something, not only did they completely change what happened in half of the original book but they also added new and completely unnecessary scenes, to top it off the episodes were 30-40 minutes long with each episode having a budget of FIFTEEN MILLION DOLLARS. From the start of this they already messed it up, they promised a book accurate series but they’d be better off calling it loosely based (Percy is supposed to have black hair but his actor has blond hair and they expect me to like it??) they changed everything that didn’t need to be changed and the quality was so bad it makes me sick, and everyone is defending it and they’re all saying how good it is and yet there’s almost nothing good about it at all. And everyone’s defending the actors ‘oh they’re just kids’ they’re also getting paid to do this why aren’t they showing any emotion??? So it completely ruined any chances of this show being good and now I’m getting it practically shoved down my throat by every app and site I visit so it’s just sickening me even more and I’m trying to leave it alone but nobody is letting me because they’re saying how ‘good’ and ‘accurate’ it is. And rick(the book author) said he chose the cast because they were the best for the characters but none of the cast was actually good in this series(they were more in character out of it and that’s a whole nother slap in the face), the best thing I have to say about them is that their best performance was when they weren’t in the scene over explaining(which was almost never) the show never gave us any time to figure things out or be interested because it’s just so badly written it drags down everyone else involved. So now not only at i waiting for the ‘real’ pjo fans to realize that this show sucks but I’m also waiting for this show to get cancelled because it know it will. It sucks, and after waiting almost a decade this feels like a slap to the face. Why? Why would they completely change almost everything that made the books good? And I feel like what’s worse is that whenever anyone puts out any valid criticism on how little they stick to the book(making Percy blond, making clarisse skinny and not masculine) they get harassed into silence as if that’s a good argument? Is it so hard to put on a wig or some eye contacts or smth? You’re telling me these bland script writers are all they could find with a 15 million dollar budget? And where are the new faces? Everyone in that show is some kind of nepo baby or well known celebrity so that doesn’t work either. And it hurts so bad how they butchered the books to make this knockoff barely well thought out show. I hope this show never gets a season two because I’m actually sick thinking about how they’re gonna butcher that book.
I agree with some of the stuff said here except for the things to do with the actors. I think with the material given they did an excellent job with what they had. Their emotions were more in micro expressions which is really all they could do cause the setting was so serious and not in an action type way (which is when actors usually get to use big facials) through out the majority of the show. As a viewer I can understand why you think they’re acting was stale or emotionless but as an actress myself I can see it was anything but. They did really well considering the circumstances. And as for looks I really don’t see the point of making a big fuss cause that’s one thing I do agree with Rick about (one of the only things) as long as they embody the characters they can play them. And you can tell that from the way they act at the very least outside of the show that they do embody their characters amazingly. There’s no doubt in my mind about why they were casted. I do think that RR was a bit in over his head when trying to be so involved with the making of the show. I feel like overseeing the writing process just to make sure that they’re getting it right would’ve been enough but I think he got a bit too excited to try and make this something memorable and to his liking that he sort of overshot it. I wish there was a way that they could like redo season 1 or make some sort of redemption in season 2 but I’m a bit skeptical. These kids deserve a shot though, I’ve been following them all since the casting announcement and they’ve been working their ASSES off. They all read and reread the source material, they made an effort to interact with the fans and give as much insight as possible to the filming process, the kids themselves made an effort to become good friends with one another which really they just had to be friends at the least but they have frequent sleepovers and hangouts all the time from what I can see. They really care about this project and I think that in and of itself means that it’s worth fighting for. If not for Rick, for them and for the fans who DO like the show. They deserve their chance.
I do appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to share your thoughts with me!! Your opinion is completely valid and understandable!!
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Bored now: (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader blurb)
Author’s note: dug out this short blurb. It’s been languishing in my drafts for a while because it felt a bit flimsy / like it didn’t go anywhere, but hey, instead of me deleting it you may as well have it! :P (And thanks to anon for requesting “anything” with Nathan, as you have caused this is to be rescued from oblivion - for better or worse, lol.)
Genre: blurb, hooking-up.
Word count: no idea because I can’t select all the text on a phone with this cursed app so what am I even to do? But it’s short.
Warnings: blood mentions / biting (warning for dub-con on the biting), no smut but some making-out, alcohol mentions. TYPOS, I can only assume.
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You can see it all laid out, like a flash forward in time, as Nathan takes a swig of red wine and eyes you darkly over the brim of his glass.
You can see everything, ahead of time.
Can see all of the mind games he’s going to play with you. The manipulation. The posturing. Playing you like you’re a chess game; and eventually, getting you to break. To succumb to him.
Sounds slow. Sounds drawn out. Sounds boring.
Who’s got the time for that?
You sidle up to the painting adorning the far wall and Nathan looks smug. Everything about tonight is supposed to impress you - that much is obvious. The helicopter. The house. The bottle of ermitage cuvee cathelin that could have paid your rent for three months; until that cork was popped.
And most of all: him.
His helicopter; house; wine; brain; arms; art, and so on and so on.
Whatever.
You exhale and lean closer to the painting. Inspecting it. Allowing a deep notch to bed itself into your brow.
“What?” Nathan asks impatiently, as you fail to respond as predicted.
“Nothing,” you say casually, taking a tight swig of the wine you aren’t even enjoying. “Just figured being a billionaire and all… I mean, what? You couldn’t have sprung for a genuine Pollock?”
Nathan’s face drops, and you know then he at least places some stock in your knowledge as a dealer. The thought satisfies you. In fact, it’s the only thing which has satisfied you all evening.
“It’s a fake, Nathan. Sorry to tell you.” You let a broad smile gradually creep over your face, unmasking your jest, but you enjoy the fact that you’d reeled him, even if only for a split second.
It’s not a fake. It’s the real fucking deal. Of course it is.
Nathan “Potential Sugar Daddy” Bateman has things you can only dream of. You work with pieces like this every day, but you could never entertain the possibility of owning one. (Aside that one time some dude had tipped you with a Degas. Wasn’t really your taste though - the guy or the painting.)
“I assure you, honey. Everything in this house is genuine.”
“Right. Except for you.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, watching his beard animates as his jaw writhe beneath it.
Aww. He’s frustrated.
This isn’t going like he expected. You’re not saying what he wants you to say. Doing what he wants you to do.
But… isn’t that the point? Doesn’t Nathan Bateman favour a challenge? Maybe not, who knows. Maybe he likes things which come easy.
You’re surprised, honestly, by how rigid he is. For someone at the head of a company famed for being innovative and agile, you actually feel like you have the jump on him.
Or, maybe that is exactly how he wants you to feel right now, who knows? You don’t much care, in fact.
Nathan eyes you again, a smirk playing on his plush mouth now. God knows what has amused him. Anyway, he drains his glass in one and moves closer to you as you survey the painting. As you look at anything but him.
He nods down to your idle glass. “You don’t like the wine?”
You look at him then down at your drink, swilling the red liquid around. “It’s fine. But the fact that every mouthful is a week’s rent makes it a little hard to swallow, I guess.”
“Would you be more comfortable with some tap water?” His tone drips with sarcasm. You watch as he takes your glass from your hand, his fingers brushing yours as he grips the stem, and your stomach flips over from the contact. He’s hot, at least. That much is certainly genuine.
“Actually, yeah. Can I?”
Nathan doesn’t even try to hide the fact your inconvenient response pisses him off. Instead, he turns on his heel and waltzes out of there, pausing in the doorway and looking at you as if you’re a dumb dog who didn’t follow. “Come with,” he says impatiently, and you wonder if this wouldn’t all be easier for him with one of his rumoured robots. You’re not one for call and response, usually.
Still, in the absence of any better option, you follow him to the kitchen - checking out his ass as you go, of course -and you watch him from the other side of the island, your arms folded as he opens up the fridge to pour you a glass of the filtered stuff.
You hate to say it but… you’re bored as fuck.
You’re in a billionaire’s house and you’re fucking bored. You’ve been here four hours and you don’t know anything about the man you couldn’t have found out from reading Forbes and trawling through his Wiki. Plus, you still -very much so- have all of your clothes on. Boo.
Well, maybe there is something more you can find out about him, before the night is over.
He wants to play games?
Sounds like an awful lot of delayed gratification; which really isn’t your style.
Fuck it.
You cross the space, moving to pin his sculpted, sturdy body to the fridge, and, even as he’s still reacting, you plant a seductively slow, lingering kiss on his lips.
You pull back for a moment, tugging his lower lip between your teeth. “What do you say, Nathan?” You purr. “Wanna skip to the fun part?”
Nathan has no smart retort. In fact, he simply looks at you admonishingly from beneath his lenses. Aww. It’s kinda cute that he thinks he can intimidate you.
“What?” you chastise, sliding your palms down his warm chest, inching towards his waistband. “Are you going to say ‘no’?”
He doesn’t say no, even as you hang back for a moment, awaiting his express consent. You find it, as his mouth moves to cover yours in moments, his supple, fine-wine tongue shoving over yours. Fuck. That’s gotta be the most expensive kiss you’ve ever had. And, as his hands move down your body, grabbing up handfuls of you, you bite his lip. You bite his lip hard enough to draw beading crimson - just because you can. Just because it’s fun.
Nathan yelps, his hand coming to his mouth in shock, coating his fingers with a delicious smear of merlot red.
“Oops,” you say, unrepentantly, with a devilish smirk, and you watch as Nathan’s eyes grow entirely saturated with a deep, dark hunger.
“You’ll pay for that,” he promises, beginning to unbutton your shirt. Tearing it eagerly off of your shoulders before shoving you up against the counter.
Cute that he thinks so. But you’re pretty sure you have the upper hand here.
Still, at least you’re no longer bored.
Finally, you think as his beard grazes down the column of your throat, the wet slide of his tongue caressing the contours of you. Things are finally starting to get interesting.
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milky-fixx · 2 years
Text
day 7, ryo: sensory deprivation
kinktobruary day 7
ryo asuka x reader // devilman crybaby.
summary: ryo is not a patient man, or a merciful one. when you don’t show up at your usual time, he can’t resist the urge to punish you.
tw/cw: minors dni, 18+ only, explicit, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, facefucking, degradation, sex toys, fingering, dubcon, uhh Ryo has a very twisted sense of entitlement and possession to someone else
word count: 1.5K
a/n: this was originally for @honeycomb-fics, but i revamped it
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Humans were trifling creatures. Constantly disappointing him. Ever since he was a child, Ryo had trouble connecting to them. He never saw people as anything more than pawns in some game he was advancing towards. Akira was the only exception, of course, but Ryo made him into something more than human—a devilman. Akira, whether he realized it or not, was crafted into something beyond the dredges of humanity. 
But then there was you. Akira’s friend, and his newest lab assistant. A part of Ryo had to admit that you weren’t… awful. A complete letdown. You were intelligent, on top of things—useful to him. But frustratingly beguiling.A distraction. More often than not, he found his thoughts filled with you; it made it hard to concentrate on his work. 
Ryo had only one goal, and that was to expose the existence of demons, to finish Professor Fikira’s work. But you threw a wrench in those plans, with your damn empathy and kindness and—and humanity. Loathe as he was to admit it, he’d even started growing used to your presence in his life, craving it almost as much as he did Akira’s.
Which is why he was annoyed when you didn’t arrive at your usual time. The minutes ticked away, and with it, Ryo’s aggravation grew. He found himself continually checking the clock, growing more irate when you didn’t appear. What the hell was taking you so long? He hacked into your phone’s camera, because of course, he had downloaded a tracking app onto your phone when you started working here. A precautionary measure. Certainly useful for times such as this. And what he saw had icy fury chill his actions. 
You were talking to some dopey delivery boy that had stopped to ask you for directions, a few blocks from his apartment. But even so, humans wereso easy to read. Ryo could discern the signs of interest. The way he chattered on for too long, the slight flush to his cheeks. And then this human had the nerve to ask you for your number in case he got lost again. Ryo’s hands were moving before he knew it. He watched the surprise play across your face when your phone screen suddenly blacked out, and wouldn’t turn back on. You apologized profusely to him, saying you were late for work and couldn’t spare much more time.
Heh. Good.
Maybe it was a reaction to Akira siding with that stupid human girl, still fresh in his memory. His refusal to let Ryo eliminate her angered him in ways he couldn’t understand. 
But what he did know was that you were his assistant. The human he’d chosen to grow attached to. And he would make sure it was ingrained into your very being.
“Ryo,” your voice comes from his live feed, bringing him back to the present. Even through the static, he can detect the strained, desperate quality to it.  He glances back at the video impassively. You’re blind-folded, arms bound behind your back. Leather straps criss-cross your naked form, press enticingly into the dips of your flesh, and even through the feed, he can hear the distinct sound of the vibrator he’d left inside you still buzzing away. “Ryo, please. I’ve cum several times already... I-It hurts.”
He pauses, before pressing down on the button that connects his mic to the audio in your room.
“I’m certain you can handle more,” is all he offers. Disinterested, disengaged.  As if the mere sight of you bound up and helpless hasn’t awakened something sinister inside him, a burning desire to have you bound up all the time. At his mercy. Every day.
“Ryo, please—”
“Maybe you’ll remember this experience the next time you consider coming in late.”
“I—”
“Fifteen more minutes. Surely you can last that long,” he says indifferently.
“I-I—” Your voice cracks. Tears stream down your cheeks, your words coming out somewhere between a gasp and a sob. “B-But… I don’t think I—c-can—”
He shuts the live feed off, disconnects his mic, then scrutinizes the tent forming in his sweatpants. He isn’t as unaffected by your display as he acts like he is.
Staring at his unfinished correspondence, he sighs before standing up, swiping the bottle of lube from his drawer. He could hardly concentrate with this kind of temptation before him. Ryo hardly considers himself religious, but he toys with the idea of flagrantly defying God even further, just as he toys with the remote to your vibrator in his pocket.
After all, Ryo could be merciful sometimes.
Plus, you need to repay him for getting him so entirely off-track.
He slips into the room you’re in, silent as the night. His finger thumbs the power notch on the vibrator as he watches you closely. The vibrations racking your core cease, and you sigh in relief, slumping forward as much as the straps binding you to the chair will allow you to. 
“H-He must be in an especially bad mood,” you mumble. You squeeze your thighs together, whimpering when the move brushes against your sensitive nub. 
There’s something Ryo’s always been curious about, a question that spurs him to approach you silently. How do humans act when they’re on the edge of desperation? How would you act on the edge of desperation?
As he hovers in front of you, he pushes down his sweatpants until its caught between his spread knees. His hard length bobs towards the lean muscle of his stomach. When he brushes it against your lips, you freeze, not even daring to take a breathe. It has him throbbing harder.
“Well?” His voice echoes in the quiet room. “What are you waiting for? Suck.”
“R-Ryo?”
He shoves his cock into your mouth, and you gag. Ryo hisses at the way your throat constricts around him. He begins pumping into your mouth in sharp, stiff thrusts, uncaring of the way you choke around him. But it’s not enough. Ryo reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants, flipping the switch on the vibrator again. You come to life, moaning around him. He pulls a grimace at the way it travels along the length of his cock.
His next thrusts forces you to take him all the way in, till the tip of his cock is nudging the back of your throat. He holds you there, one hand gripping the back of your head as he turns the vibration up all the way. As you splutter and cry out around his cock, it’s your tears spilling onto his length that get to him. He jerks his hips away. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, as his spend spills in ropes along your cheeks. Then he’s leaning forward, resting his hand on the chair you’re strapped, surveying the mess he’s made of you.
“Clean that up,” Ryo says once he can, shucking his pants back on. But then he realizes your hands are still bound, your mobility limited, and he scoffs. “Fine. I’ll just do it myself.”
He swipes his fingers through his cooling release on your face. And then he’s yanking out the vibrator from inside you, before replacing it with a plunge of his fingers. You jolt as if stunned. He fucks his release into you, your arousal making it easy for him to bury his fingers into you till the knuckle, and it’s borderline painful considering how overstimulated your every nerve feels.
“R-Ryo!”
“You’re going to cum for me one more time, (Y/N),” he says, cool determination hardening his words. “I don’t care if you don’t think you can. I want to see it and feel it, this time.”
His thumb extends to rub against your twitching nub as he spears his fingers into you, and you’re shuddering. Your hips press down into his fingers before retreating, attempting to put some distance between you two, but his assault is merciless. As lights burst beneath your eyelids for who knows how many times that night, you cry out his name. Your walls constrict around Ryo’s fingers, and he finds himself soaking in every last detail of your rapture.
Then not only is your world fading to black, but your consciousness too. When you come to, you’re surprised to feel you can move your arms again. You blink. The straps are gone, The blindfold’s taken off, but your sight is soon stolen by Ryo’s lips pressing against your eye. You call out his name again, and he hums. 
“I’m not certain what you’ve done to me,” he starts, fixating his icy stare on you. “But... seeing you like that, overstimulated and on the verge of collapse—it makes me want more.”
Your heart stills to a mere stutter as his words sink on.
“Will you be obedient to me?” He slips his cock, once again hard, out of his pants and lifts your hips up slightly. You gasp as he drops you onto it, finally entering you, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “I really need to finish this correspondence, but I also...want to finish inside of you.”
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uchihaharlot · 8 months
Note
CEO! AU Where their employee is too naive about innuendo 😅
Too pure and these guys wreck her during a personal "meeting" in their office.
(Separate scenarios please 🙏)
Me dearest moot,
I apologize this took me so long. 😅 I find it hard to write ooc scenes, but then again everything written outside the Narutoverse is considered ooc. So I just rolled with it, didn’t feel it at first. Sat on it, went back edited it — added more and hopefully the outcome is to your standards.
I truly am committed to writing almost any ask that is sent my way.
I do apologize, this got lengthy. I cannot not write anything less than 3k it seems when in the mood. Lmao. I give you smut with minor plot, because I love a bit of backstory and I adore characters that have a familiarity between them or some fluffy shit like that.
(When I wrote this, I was not aware of your preference for Itachi at the time. Shisui CEO was already in the works. Honestly am not entirely convinced this is good. I would be willing to do Itachi in a separate ask, I just didn’t want this to be like 15k of figuring my shit out).
NSFW; airhead-ish intern; smut w/plot; praise kink; oral; vaginal; unprofessional work environment; sex at work; Enjoy!
wc: an exorbitant fucking 3.4k; fuck and I’m not editing it much more right now. Will go back, I just felt like the worlds biggest piece of shit for taking so long lol
As fresh blood in the world of accounting, credentials meant everything. Especially if you want roll with the big boys. Which is why when accepting an internship nearly six months ago from the most prestigious accounting firm, you didn’t hesitate to accept. It would look good on your resume and if lucky enough, you’d be offered a job and avoid the hassle of sending out hundreds of applications.
So far things have been mild and mundane.
Coffee this, tea that. Dry cleaning. You hardly even made an appearance into the conference room except on few occasions.
Today was one of those days your presence was requested. Shisui Uchiha, CEO, owner and founder of Tomoe LLC. An accounting firm for high profiled clients.
Yea, your designated boss was that guy.
The one who made tabloids left and right with his fuck you money and all. The guy who probably had every woman in the office, including yourself, humid and longing. Didn’t even have to try, and there was no lying. How unfortunate you had the hots for him. Regardless of your stance, you retained the upmost professionalism in his presence.
When Shisui walks into the conference room, all eyes are on him. Composed, clean cut and admirable. As an intern your job is to take minute notes, jot ideas he spouts off and anything of importance. At the end of his hour and a half long ramble. Everyone is dismissed.
‘Except you.’ Words you didn’t really expect, but nonetheless did as you were told.
Once the room is cleared, Shisui’s gaze catches yours. Sharp and observant, you felt under the microscope of his heavy dark eyed gaze. ‘I need your help on something.’
Which was great, usually.
This is what you’re here for. If it was coffee, you’d fetch it. If it was picking his dog up from the groomers, that too. You got to use his shiny new car, which was a treat. He made sure you knew nobody before you had that privilege.
‘I’m listening, Uchiha-san.’ Submissive and severely cute as you retained his attention. Even if unintentional, it made his eyes flicker whenever you called him that and he straightened up a bit. A smug grin on his face.
Ever the good girl.
Shisui taps at your laptop, quickly you open its notebook app, ready to record his thoughts. ‘I want you to draft your own document on project of your choosing. Consider it a ‘review.’ How can you make this company grow?’
Oh, it was one of those reviews. The preliminary ‘give me your thoughts and maybe you can have a job’ situation. He continues, ‘on one condition… meet me in my office after work. And we’ll discuss it more personally.’
‘Anything specific I should focus on?’ It wasn’t confusing, but you had the sense there was something particular he was looking for.
He smiles and gazes over you. Shisui always said he appreciated your tenacity and go-getter attitude. ‘Just whatever comes to mind; nothing too serious…..when you write this document, just remember it's for me. It should be tailored to suggestions you think I would….be interested in.’
‘Right, for you…for the company.’ You sheepishly smile back. Why was the room hot, why did your stomach disappear and leave you feeling sick almost. Not in a terrible way, but well….no. He’s your damned boss!!
‘Good girl.’ Something crawled up your spine when he said those words. Your body treasonously gushed, and it was hard not to flush warm in the cheeks. ‘Make sure to send this off before you stop by my office. It would be…beneficial for me to know before we further discuss this in a personal setting.’
A personal setting. After work.
You weren’t stupid by any means, part of you truly believed your boss was hitting on you and the other half was partial to the fact Shisui just knew how to get what he wanted. So, for the last few hours of your day, you focused on real issues within the company. You didn’t want to insult him, but there were things that could improve the numbers and have an impact. Small minute details you picked up the last few months. The document was sent off the last half hour of the day before you walked down to the elevator and took it three floors up to where the higher-ranking individuals in the company were stationed.
Maybe you could be up here. Maybe your ideas would actually mean something. A small smile spreads your face before you knock on his office door.
When Shisui opens the door, he immediately steps aside and motions for you to enter. That’s good sign, right? His gaze lingers as you take in the office that you see maybe three times a month. Your actual duties are handed down to the secretary on your floor directly from him.
A soft click of the door closing has your nerves striking flint at one another.
‘I like how you took this assignment so seriously….’ Taking a seat at his desk, hands folded together. He takes her in.
‘You’re not offended?’ Of course not! The numbers didn’t lie, you had found a hole in his company’s bottomline. Money was being filtered out. If anything, he was grateful you did this so thoroughly.
Shisui’s eyes seem almost piercing, ‘I’m not offended at all. In fact, it’s impressive. Very impressive….now exactly how did you figure this out?’
Oh, that was a toughie. It was by accident, really, you explain. Within the first few weeks of your internship, you were granted access to classified information. Unsure if this was even allowed, you figured that if a potential job was to be had. You needed to know the numbers. Unfortunately for Shisui, undoubtedly, someone was stealing money from him. He had his suspicions prior to your upheaval, but no real way of confirming without causing the perpetrator to become aware. Aside from that it was intricately encrypted, meaning you were incapable of providing further details of who.
Shisui eyes you the whole time, his unwavering gaze felt unkind almost, but sincere. ‘So, you were just casually going through the inflow and outflow. Just so happen to discover…. money missing?’
You exhale heavily, this sounded like it could backfire. ‘Y-yes. I’m sorry if that was a breach of my contract, I figured if I was granted access—’
Shisui’s light chuckle interrupts you, a sort of calm, almost relieved feeling washes down your nerves. ‘You’re fine, I admire your determination and commitment to this company. It seems I can’t trust everyone here…’
‘I suggest, if you’re open to it…. calling tech support, they might be able…’ the words hit your face from the floor. Someone in tech support would be the perfect position to lay low and hide or dispose of backlogs. Shisui quirks an eyebrow at your acute observation. ‘Tech support would be able to see behind all of that.’
At first, he is surprised, then perturbed. Tech support would be capable of seeing behind the encryption or worse. Creating it. Leaning back in his chair, he folds his hands under to his chin. ‘A smart observation….that is….unfortunate. For them, if so.’ A hint of admiration in his voice has you smiling at his praise.
Shisui can’t help but stare at you for a moment. That smile is adorable, even more when you’re not completely flustered by him. When you’re almost comfortable in his presence. ‘You’re a very sharp girl…and you have a good grasp of this business despite being just an intern….’
‘It’s nothing….really. I was just…trying to get on top of the game.’ A soft shrug is all you manage. What else could you say? Now wasn’t the time to toot your own horn.
Shisui leans forward in his chair. He can't help but notice you’re a still bit shy, reserved and overtly quiet in his presence. More times often than not are you loud and boisterous with the friends you’ve made here. Something lurches in the back of his mind; his tone of voice softens.
‘I’d like to commend you for your efforts. You’ve outdone yourself and even figured out someone is potentially funneling money from me.’ He pauses briefly, ‘just out of curiosity though….why did you accept this internship?’
The harsh truth resurfaced with a prejudice. You were bitter the first few weeks, though you were grateful for this opportunity here. Not a word back from a single firm within the five great nations when you sought them out. It was nearly a month later after you had sent out the portfolio did Shisui’s firm respond. ‘You were the only firm to return interest and extend an offer.’
This was not something Shisui expected to hear. It disheartened him and left a foul taste in his mouth. Surely other firms would have been interested. He hadn’t sent a reply as quickly beforehand. Thinking you would take an opportunity in another country. Most people wanted to leave their home cities; he responded solely on the fact he was too eager in his selection for you. The portfolio, while small, was exceptional. Organized and precise. His stubbornness made him hold off but the business side of him does what’s best for itself.
He had to have you, to see the woman behind the mind. Even if you weren’t the spectacular woman before him, he still would have hired you. He wasn’t discriminatory in that matter, only if you would be beneficial to the firm. He knew from the initial interview that you would be, it was just a bonus that you were drop dead gorgeous.
‘No other company reached out?’ The irritation in his voice was severe and brought blasphemy in his eyes.
The hardened look on his face softens once more as you continue, ‘I was shocked to receive your extension to interview.’
Another unexpected answer. Shisui didn’t expect that the other internships went unanswered, but he never once turned down the free labor hours of an internship. There wasn’t a damn thing that made you unworthy of a position here. Intelligent, well calculated….submissive. You did every thing he threw at you from silly errands he couldn’t be fucked with, to listening to him bitch about Genma’s vacation in the Land of Tea being two weeks.
‘So here I am. Almost the six month review. I was hoping that this recent development would…be a retainer for a full time position…’ the words taper off. Hearing how silly you were.
Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours was not at the forefront of your mind.
But it was his and, well, the funny thing is. Shisui’s back, is on his cock. That’s exactly the kind of back scratching he was referring to earlier when he asked for you to come up with a minor presentation for him. He figured this one wouldn’t fly over the crows nest, but it had. You didn’t quiet catch his intentions.
He would just have to be more…direct.
A small smile spreads his face, the fact that you were just so bashful with your request. Shisui rounds his desk quickly, his hands at your forearms. Sights sharp with intent. Deep baritone grows soft when he addresses you, ‘consider me impressed.’
You quickly dial in at his hands holding you so, so intimately. ‘Why?’ Is that really all you can manage? Though you didn’t understand, ‘why do I impress you? I did something that someone else should have been doing.’ Your brows pinch.
Shisui doesn’t answer right away, he takes the time to consider you. He thumbs small circles on your left arm, as if he is trying to properly convey the words of adoration without scaring you off. ‘You’re right, I should have someone doing this. I am just impressed you were that person when it should have been someone more experienced in this company.’
‘But…?’ Waiting for it. For the let down of not having a position here.
Shisui runs a hand through his hair, the other still on your left arm, ‘this is the first time I’ve ever thought about extending a full-time position to an intern in awhile. But…from now on, you will not be an intern…’ a pregnant pause makes the air thick and stale for a moment. ‘You’ll be my assistant.’
‘Assistant?’ That wasn’t working with numbers, ‘that’s not…numbers or anything close to it…’
Shisui’s laugh fills his chest and reverberates in his throat stopping at a light hum, the grip on your forearm tightens a little to capture your undivided attention wholly. ‘Do not worry. I never said that you would stop working with numbers. That will still be part of your position here. But, moreover, I want your input on other aspects of this company. Marketing, communication, etc. a more….intimate experience at my side.’
You gawk. ‘How can you consider that from a near bare portfolio. I surely haven’t worked my weight in ryo here, not even close.’
In this moment, you look adorable to Shisui. Exasperated and uncertain. Almost undeserving. ‘You’re forgetting exactly why I chose you for the internship. I knew from the moment I interviewed you that you were a very sharp young lady. My trust in your abilities has grown exponentially these past few months, and hence…this new position for you.’
A soft click of your tongue, it was all coming full circle now. ‘This sounds like a curated position that was just made up.’
Shisui’s lips curl into a devious smile, that slips below subtle smirk. He narrows his eyes a bit, those eyes ever intense and drinking you up like the finest whiskey. That calm and composed side of Shisui is replaced by a commanding and dominant presence. Unholy even.
‘Uchiha-san?’ A sharp exhale as Shisui snakes a hand around her waist.
He brings you flush to his chest, running a hand through your hair. Drags his nose along your jaw and up to your cheek before his lips stop at your ear. Hot and raspy, Shisui’s intentions are more than clear. You notice how tall he really is, just towering over you. How much older he is too.
‘What…are you doing?’ A whispered hiss of astonishment at his direct approach.
‘What do you think I am dong?’ Sweet like honey, his voice is deep. Commanding. Possessive.
‘I’m partial to believe this is not in my job description….’ Your soft breath fans the his cheek as he rakes a hand up the nape of your neck.
‘I never suggested it was….’ The words send shivers down your spine, his thumb traces down your cheekbone. His warm breath smells sweet, you know this is not appropriate. Against policy. And as much as you’d hate to admit it.
You enjoyed it. ‘Then what is this for?’
You graze your nose in return over his cheek, the boldness amuses Shisui. How much did you like this? ‘This is part of the perks that come with your new job. If you haven’t noticed by now… I tend to enjoy your company.’
Well no, you didn’t notice. Not until now, ‘no, how could I when I’m hardly doing as an intern should?’ That was cute.
The small moan from your lips is even more adorable as Shisui dragged his lips down your neck. Delirium filled your head space, this was moving too fast. Before you knew it your tight pencil skirt was shucked to above your hips and you were laid on his desk.
Subservient to his desire, fueled by your own deplorable greed within. You could just let Shisui have his way with you, not that you saw it this way. Sex was currency, was also free and felt fucking good. The part of you that may or may not have fantasized this exact scenario unfolding was in charge now.
Spread out, legs over his shoulders holding his head in a vice squeeze. How did it get far this fast? Nose in your heat, lapping and twirling his tongue over your clit. Fingers curling in the confines of your taut muscles. Muscles that ached for it; were drenched for him. If your knocked a few things off his desk, Shisui would forgive you. This was the reason why he’d drawn you in after hours, the sounds you made were no less than a few doors in range: if anyone was still here after hours. They’d hear and pretend they didn’t the next day.
When his cock stretched you, molded you to him. He reamed a hand around your neck and pressed your back into the keyboard. Every time you came close to coming, he squeezed and stopped thrusting. Making you writhe and submit further to him.
‘..please.’ Your desperate whimper.
‘Please..what?’
Those soft eyes of yours caught his attention, ‘..please let me come Uchiha-san.’
He kissed you sweetly, but fucked you like an office whore as you came all over him. ‘Such a good girl…’ rang your ears every so often as he softly panted out between thrusts. Shisui flipped you to your stomach once you succumbed to his relentless pounding. Wrung his hand in your hair and craned your neck back to expose the delicate flesh. Nipping your pulse point, he sheath himself once more. Slower, needier. On the verge of filling your sweet hole with his genetic markup. Gripping your waist to steady your body, he whispered many things of promise if you accepted his job offer.
His bed, car and money. What on earth had gotten into this man? Shisui couldn’t figure out for himself exactly what he was saying either, but it was all forgotten the split second your salacious whimper and saying you were coming again. Had his hips steam rolling and slamming into you harder. Pumping his thinking length as he coated your insides. Holding your back to his chest as you both moaned out loud.
Surely, this was unprofessional. The entire time you fixed your clothes, you expected him to rescind his decision. That didn’t happen. Not when he fixed his tie, adjusted your skirt and covered you with his coat. Not once did his resolve change as you both walked out the dark office and got out of the elevator. He took you to dinner, paid an extraordinary amount of money for too little food and ushered you home. Opened your door and lead you by the small of your back to your front door and gave you a chaste kiss.
‘See you in the morning, ill be here at 6:30am’ It was fully decided by now that you did have a a full time position now, and he handed you a check for the firsts three months salary, and then some that had your head spinning.
‘This is unnecessary..’ It was money that you’d only ever seen on paper, let alone now held in your hands.
‘Consider it a bonus, and a reward.’ Shisui lifted your chin, and kissed your cheek.
You watched as he waited for you to go inside of your apartment, then he left.
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redfurrycat · 9 months
Text
🐓🤠Hangster Fic-on-Tumblr Recs🤠🐓
🐓🤠Hangster Goodies to Read! 🐓🤠
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Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Tumblr Authors: allbark-no-bite, film-in-my-soul, green-socks, hangster-hangout, icemavs, natashatrace, norabrice1701, ravens-words, semperhuggs, tgmsunmontue, the-sun-and-the-sky.
(Use this post to let me know about your works, it’s easier for me to keep track!)
(Reminder to come here in case Our Beloved is Down.
*True Story of why I wanted to do this specific recs list*)
TGMSUNMONTUE (AO3 – SunMonTue)
Tgmsunmontue’s Masterlist, including:
Another Time ➡️ 14 Chapters | M | BodySwap | Jake wakes up in Rooster's body ~30 hours post-Mission and they have to deal with it. They're adults. Apparently.
Bird on a Wire ➡️ 3 Chapters | E | Meet-cute | Jake tries to make a good impression on one of the servers at a restaurant. Except he turns out to be the head chef. Who in turn tries make a good impression. Their families try and help.
He remembers ➡️ 1 Chapter | Bradley remembers key points in his life as he faces starting at the USNA. IceMav feels.
It's all academic darlin' ➡️ 9 Chapters | E | Academic Professor AU | Bradley is a professor but living his best well-adjusted life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again.
Lonely Nights ➡️ 4 Chapters | E | Smut | Rooster really needs to get laid.                                                                                       
ICEMAVS (Ao3 – Sreshaw)
Avery’s Masterlist, including:
Planes, trains, and gay people ➡️ 3 Chapters | E | Planes, Trains, and Automobiles AU | Bradley just wanted to get home for Thanksgiving to see him mom and uncles. What he ended up with was three days with a hot stranger who happened to annoy the shit out of him.
Springsteen ➡️ 2 Chapters | M | High School | Bradley Bradshaw has to pick up and move from San Diego, California, with his not-dad Pete "Maverick" Mitchell to Corpus Christi, Texas. He's not upset about it, but he doesn't expect to fall hard for a boy he meets there.
Whiskey and Rye ➡️ 1 Chapter | E | Only One Bed | The Dagger Crew got turned into a real-deal instructor squadron after the mission. They get sent on missions and demos to teach new pilots how to do what they do. On this trip to Florida, the WSOs are staying with their pilots, but Jake and Bradley, since they are WSO-less, have to room together. And the hotel fucked up.
NORABRICE1701 (Ao3 – MidnightBlast)
Twist My Heart ➡️ 6 Chapters | Twister AU | E | The hope of anything with Jake is a fool’s hope. Bradley has understood that from the first minute Jake waltzed into the lab with his dazzlingly brilliant smile, sun-kissed skin, and grass-green eyes gleaming with dangerous red flags. Yet still Bradley let the man get under his skin, burrow in his chest, and take root in his heart. 
GREEN-SOCKS (Ao3 – Aprilfoolish)
(Do You) Share My Affection ➡️ 1 Chapter | M | Bradley and Jake end up on a date with each other through an anonymous dating app (because they are just a little bit idiots about each other). The date is the wakeup call they needed.
RAVENS-WORDS (Ao3 – Ravens_Words)
been you all along ➡️ 5 Chapters | T | Kid Fic | Somehow, in a truly horrifying twist of fate, Bradley's mortal enemy became his daughter's favorite person. Or, Five times Jake was his daughter's favorite person, and the one time he was Bradley's too. (🐈 Note: +1 on Ao3!)
THE-SUN-AND-THE-SKY
The Joke's On You ➡️ 1 Chapter | Fluff | In which Hangman makes a joke and Rooster takes it literally.
FILM-IN-MY-SOUL (Ao3 – ReformedTsundere)
Ficlet Bingo Soulmates ➡️ 1 Chapter | T | The time between getting shot down and reuniting with Maverick, Rooster isn’t alone. First Kiss ➡️ 1 Chapter | T | The night before the rest of Bradley’s life he gets pretty drunk and a little lucky. Whump ➡️ 1 Chapter | T | Jake is hurt. But it’s alright. Bradley is there. A/B/O ➡️ 1 Chapter | M | Between waves of Jake’s heat, he and Bradley have a domestic moment. Epistolary ➡️ 1 Chapter | T | In a box, there lives two letters that the writers never want read.
NSFW Alphabet S = Stamina ➡️ 1 Chapter | E | The thing is, Jake hadn't really thought Bradley was serious when they'd made The Bet. He'd laughed when Bradley had stated his terms ( "I want to fuck you til sun up.") It had sounded like a cheesy line, like he'd never left that pre-twenties stage of sex-based hubris. And then Jake had lost. Y = Yearning ➡️ 1 Chapter | M | He’s paying the piper for the gift he’d been given: shockingly easy submission, a slack, wet mouth, a freely offered place to rest his need and have it soothed with tongue and sex.
HANGSTER-HANGOUT
The Love Chicken ➡️ 1 Chapter | Fluff | My dad said he knew my mom was the one over a bottle of wine and the best roast chicken he ever had.” “And now you’re making it for Hangman. So he can figure out that you’re the one.” “Something like that.” Bradley cooks for Jake. It goes even better than expected. 
NATASHATRACE (Ao3 – crueltether)
first I love you/bronco conversations under the stars ➡️ 1 Chapter
daily create challenge (2/365) ➡️ 1 Chapter | something something Jake thrives in chaos but craves peace, something something Bradley thrives in peace but craves chaos
Restraint ➡️ 1 Chapter | E | Smut | “What was it you said, Jake? Something about being snug on my perch?”
ALLBARK-NO-BITE
mr. iceman, sir ➡️ 1 Chapter | Fluff | they called him Iceman for a couple of reasons. Jake is sweating under his stare. a snippet of Jake asking Ice to marry Bradley
SEMPERHUGGS (Ao3 – Semeprhuggs)
Slider's Matchmaking Again? ➡️ 3 Chapters | Present day Christmas with the Daggers and the Flyboys.
Proposal ➡️ 1 Chapter
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heerocks · 1 year
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CURIOUS CAT — the butterflies on y/n's stomach
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SYNOPSIS! Curious Cat is an app that peaked three years ago where people use it to flirt with their crush anonymously and then suddenly forgot about it.
or wherein, Y/N was devastated when her crush, Lee Heeseung indirectly rejecting her in high school. Three years later, both of them have this unknown beef between them that even their friends don't know the real reason behind. One day, Y/N suddenly remembered and opened her C.C. account, and saw that someone by the name 'Ethan' confessed to her three years ago.
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'It's way too early for this' heeseung thought rolling his eyes as he hid his phone on his right pocket while doing the best he can to ignore the fact that you've been staring at him for like 30 minutes straight now.
What did I do? That's the question that plague his mind. Are you angry at him? Did he do something wrong? There's gotta be an acceptable reason for you to stare at him like that, right? He tried to play it cool by sending soft smiles on your way but nothing fazed you. As a matter of fact, you didn't even tried to hide the fact that you're practically gawking at him.
Should I be nervous? He thought again, shifting his weight from left to right obviously in discomfort and overthinking things. This morning, instead of sitting behind you like he did last time, Heeseung sat a few rows on the right side, positioning himself diagonally away from you.
Jay thought it would be best to block all the 'distractions' (and that includes you) while he receive cooking lessons from him. And, heeseung couldn't agree more knowing he's a complete fool and a nervous wreck.
Not to mention, he'll willingly bend in front of you if that's what you want. Just think if it. What if, god forbid, he suddenly spill his plan on confessing to you using food as an excuse? That would wreck all his dreams and hard work to confess in the most perfect way the world would ever allow him to do.
If it's another scenario, maybe heeseung don't mind that you're indeed staring at him. Maybe he'll stare back, using the 'staring contest' as an excuse to study your features. Writing mental notes about what shaped your eyes are, how soft your lips looked and must've felt like, how cute you nose. Heck, he'll even note how you softly bite your lips whenever you're focus doing something. Bet he can keep the list going. That's how bad heeseung is down for you, so if it is a simple day, maybe heeseung wouldn't mind.
But no, right now? he do mind it. How can he not when you're looking at him, not with a loving eyes as he hope so but a look that can be called nothing but judgemental?
Another scrutinizing ten minutes of his life passed just by waiting for the class to start, and with you still gawking at him, heeseung can't help but to dramatically gasped for the much needed breathe of relief when he felt your eyes leaving him when the door finally opened that made all the people inside the room look in one direction. But, instead of a man in his late 50s like y'all expected to see, Ryujin was the one who invade your visions.
She quietly go inside, walking directly in front of the teacher's table ensuring everyone's attention is on her.
"Listen, they had teacher's meeting so no class for today—" The tuition-driven students erupt in series of excited shouts but Ryujin was adamant to stop it. "BUT!" the whole room fell into silent, "... but, mr. choi said that we should all go to our respective partners assigned for the midterm project and use the remaining time to finish it. The deadline was still due later this week, no exceptions."
Groaned was heard all across the room, but despite the complains, people started to stand and walked to their partners anyways. Whilst heeseung was the only one to froze on his seat, he doesn't know why he's so nervous to face you. Maybe it's because there's something on the way you give the 'look' that screams danger for him. Maybe he'll just run?
Though, before the man can even come up with an answer. He heard your voice, calling his name softly. "Heeseung..." Nevermind, he loves you anyways. Nothing's going to change about that.
He took time to calm down before turning his head to look at you who was now signalling for him to come. Heeseung did exactly what he was told. Taking the seat beside you with such amenable behavior. Fear not, you wouldn't need to say it twice and heeseung would definitely do it nonetheless.
The man in question awkwardly shifted his weight away from you though keeping his smile intact in hopes to distract your doubts. It was a failed endeavour, by the way as heeseung distinctively saw your eyes squinting on how weird he's acting right now.
Shit.
"So, i guess it's safe to say that procrastination didn't win?" Heeseung nodded, avoiding your eyes under the guise of observing his surroundings. "Chilling feels good knowing you finished the task early while seeing your classmates still doing something" He added, as heeseung felt himself slowly calming down. His instinct took over and the next thing he knew, his body automatically scoot closer to you. Funny how his eyes want to run away from yours though his body said otherwise.
"By the way, I need to ask you something, heeseung..." Nope. False hope. The nerves are back. He was busy panicking inside that he didn't even noticed how careful you choose your words, scared that one wrong word was enough to scare him away.
"Ask away" Heeseung's voice came out normal but it didn't came unnoticed on how it trailed off specially on the last part. You didn't replied or fired the question immediately just like what he hoped so. It was more like, you weren't so sure what you'll ask... or, if you still want to ask the question running amock through mind.
After a few seconds, you brave to finally start "Do you like someone?" Now, it's his time to think. Not that heeseung was doubting his feelings. He's just torn between saying yes or just denying it until he finally and officially confess. Ah, whatever. Whatever happens, happens.
"I do"
"Do you love giving them gifts?" You ask again, now, chasing after his eyes. Heeseung nervously gulped before silently nodding, afraid that his voice would betray him. "I'm not really good with words..." Of course, he isn't. If he did, he should've said that he like you a long time ago. It was long overdue.
"So, I tend to give them gifts to uh— make them feel special"
"Like flowers?" The bell rang, cutting you off. Heeseung was now celebrating mentally. He need to be away from you, asap. "Oh, look at the time!" Heeseung proclaimed frantically looking at his wrist, not even realizing he doesn't wear a watch.
"I... uh— I have to go, y/n! I still have something to do." He immediately grabbed his things from the chair. Heeseung was about to walk away when your hand caught the hem of his shirt. You didn't need to speak, he knew what goes on in your mind.
And, before heeseung realize words came out like falls, nothing beats your innocent face looking up to him. It makes him want to do everything you want even without saying it.
"I have cook—" You raised your brow waiting for heeseung to continue by laughing dead ass awkward. Somehow, he sounds like a crow.
"I mean, I still have to cook layla's dog food. And, cook coffee... comb my hair, as well as, jake's and hoon's. So... I'll see you around, okay?" By the time, heeseung said the last reminder, his voice became soft. His hands gently and affectionately pat your head. Surely, he's the father to the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.
"Be careful on your way home, hm?" Heeseung finally walked away, leaving you a blushing mess.
What the hell are you doing to me, Lee Heeseung?!
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chapter 46 — the butterflies on y/n's stomach
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GENRE! smau + written, on crack, slow burn, mutual pinning or past pinning, university au, kinda enemies to lovers troupe, heeseung is a simp, reader is kind of dumb, friends bullying friends
𖥻 notes! : updates might get delayed since i have upcoming exams this week >< but i'll see what i can do. And, this chapter is not yet edited so i apologize if y'all came with wrong grammar, spelling, and such.
𖥻𖥻 taglist! : @ckline35 @meinapricity @gugudone @xoxodinaryheroes @lov3niki @ahnneyong @raikea10 @bigtoewinwin @tlnyjoong @sungookie @uwudaizy @jeongintwt @paragonofroyalty @captivq @lavisha7 @prdxinvade @lockburn-castle @chaemmie @xtra-cheese @mimikittysblog @zhaixiaowen @pb-n-juju @luvkait @myjaeyunn @redm4ri @oceanyocean @diestheticu @liliansun @yenqa @xiaoderrrr @flower-lise @mymeloem19 @jungwon-kitten @hoonieluv @vantxx95 @asherbl @alexayoonlee @georgi-salva @mdavt @kyexvly @would-bee @jhopesucker @tiramis-hoon @noascats @beomibeom
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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 year
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Running on Spite and Fumes by Amber McLain
Written for the Phic Phight Prompt: Wes decides to investigate one of Danny's rogues (from @bookhoard)
AO3 Link
[Warnings from past character death (Ember) and fire]
Wes was just about ready to throw in the towel. No matter how many times he said it, no matter how much evidence he provided, no one was ever going to believe that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same. He'd been trying to show people for almost two years now with nothing at all to show for it. Maybe the time had finally come to give up the ghost and direct his efforts toward something else.
He sat behind and to the left of Danny in physics class. That half-ghost bastard was chugging ectoplasm out of a clear water bottle without a care in the world and nobody but Wes thought there was anything suspicious about that. Not long ago, Wes would have practically thrown a fit over it. Shouted, and pointed, and demanded, "Are none of you seeing this!?" but he didn't today.
Even when Danny turned around to make direct eye-contact with Wes, specifically to antagonize him, he didn't take the bait. "You know what, Fenton?" he said. "You win."
Danny blinked in surprise and put down his water bottle. "What?"
"I said, you win," Wes repeated. "Fuck you, obviously, but I give up. I'm not wasting any more of my time. My reputation has taken enough of a hit already. I'm moving on to newer, better things."
Danny scoffed and leaned on his hand, shooting Wes a mildly amused and thoroughly unconvinced look. "Like what?"
"Like, you know," Wes hadn't really thought about it yet, but he'd be damned if he was about to admit it to Danny. "Ghosts that are actually cool!" he spat. "Like Ember! Phantom is old news. I'm gonna figure out who she is, or—was."
"Right, sure you are," Danny rolled his eyes and turned to face the front of the classroom again, grumbling, "Good luck with that," under his breath.
Wes scowled. He'd just made that up on the spot because he hadn't wanted to admit to Danny, of all people, that he didn't actually have a plan, but now he really was gonna do it. How hard could it be to figure out who a ghost was before they died, anyway?
As it turned out, the answer to that question was 'really fucking hard.' Wes had basically nothing to go on except her song. He ran his personal recording—yes he had a copy of it. Mind control aside, it was a good song!—through every music identification app and program he could find and came up with zip. Either she'd written that song after she died, or she was one of those ghosts that formed in the Ghost Zone and only seemed like a normal ghost, or she was such an obscure indie artist when she was alive that no one... remembered her.... Oh.
That would explain her obsession. Ghosts often became obsessed in death with things they wanted or fantasized about when they were alive, but never got. Finally, Wes had a thread to pull on. He went online, surfing indie music forums, the more obscure the better. He posted the same message in tons of different places.
Does anyone recognize this artist? Her name is Ember McLain, but I can't can't find anything about her anywhere! <remember_ember.mp3>
Usually it was buried right away. No one recognized the song, or no one cared. Several times he got made fun of for having to ask who an artist was, even though no one else on the forums knew her either. It was a few days before he got an actual worthwhile response, but he did get one, which broke the case wide open.
Could you mean *Amber* McLain? The music sounds similar to hers, but I guess she's pronouncing her name weird to make the rhyme work.
She's from my hometown, and I saw her perform a couple small gigs at local clubs and stuff, but don't expect her to drop any new singles any time soon. She died like eight years ago.
Bingo. That was definitely something Wes could work with.
It might be. What town? Do you happen to have any more of her music?
The response came several minutes later.
Milton, Washington. And it took me a while to find the songs, but yeah. She only had the one album, 5 songs on it, and she wasn't bad, so I bought it at one of her shows. <running_on_spite_and_fumes.mp3> <homegrown_arson.mp3> <the_curse_of_adolescence.mp3> <feather_heavy.mp3> <daddy_never_loved_you.mp3>
Wes started downloading the files before he responded.
How'd she die?
This time the answer came right away.
Mid-show, the venue caught fire.
One of the amps blew and everything went up in flames. The back door was blocked, I guess, and she was trapped on stage, never made it out. Like six or seven people died in that fire, it was a big deal for a while.
Burned to death in a concert venue, huh? Wes considered Ember, her flaming hair, the way she was dressed, the spectral guitar she could summon and dismiss at will. That would totally make sense.
Once the music downloaded, he listened to the first song. The lyrics weren't nearly as self-absorbed as "Remember Ember", but the sound was the same. It was distinctly her music, her voice, her playing guitar. It was her sound, from before she'd died. Wes could hear her inhaling at the end of a lyric, could hear her voice catch the way a ghost's voice couldn't.
This is her! Thanks so much for helping me find her! Sucks to hear she died, but at least I could hear a little more of her music.
This had been the breakthrough Wes needed.
Yeah, no problem man! Thanks for reminding me about her. The new song is a bop!
Grinning triumphantly, he printed out that forum exchange for his evidence folder. He knew who she was now. All he had to do was find some more evidence of her life. It wouldn't be all that easy to do when all of that evidence was in a small town in Washington state she'd never made it out of, but Wes was never one to shy away from a challenge.
Ember would probably be happy to hear that she did have at least one fan when she was alive. Not to mention, Wes would make an absolute killing burning CDs with all of Ember's songs from before she died and selling them at school. He finished downloading the files and burned one CD for his folder right away.
The next order of business would be scouring newspapers for articles about her. No matter how obscure the musician was, dying in the middle of a performance when the venue burned down was all but guaranteed to make the news, at least regionally. It took weeks to find even a single article, but eventually he tracked one down.
Six die in tragic bar fire in Milton.
The article contained details about the fire, the bar, the cause, and the victims, including photos of them. One of them, the performing musician, Amber McLain was the spitting image of Ember, stage makeup and all, even the guitar she was pictured with was exactly the same as Ember's.
He'd found her.
He'd really, truly found her.
Wes printed out the article. After a little more digging on the bar that had burned down, he also found a scan of a promotional poster for Ember's show that night, and he printed that out too. He slipped those, along with the CD he'd burned, and the printed out forum exchange, into a folder to bring to school.
"Guess what, Fenton, you asshole? I fucking did it!" Wes hollered when Danny walked into physics class.
"Did what?" Danny asked with a scoff. "If this is about proving I'm Phantom, I thought you said you gave that up."
"We both know you're Phantom, and I did give up proving it, but this isn't about that." Wes slapped the folder down on top of Danny's desk and dug his portable CD player out of his backpack. "Read it and weep, fucker. Not only did I figure out who Ember was before she died, I also got my hands on all five tracks of the only album she released while she was still alive." He put the CD into the player and turned it on.
The opening riff of "Running on Spite and Fumes" started playing from the portable player's single, shitty speaker, but the moment she started to sing, Ember's voice, or rather, Amber's voice was unmistakable.
"Holy shit, you actually did it," Danny said under his breath, looking down at the contents of the folder, his expression a mix of awe and horror.
"Is that a new Ember song?" asked Star from the front row.
"Actually, it's an old Ember song," Wes responded smugly. "I tracked down her real identity and got my hands on everything she released before she died. I'm gonna burn more copies later and sell 'em around school."
"Wes, can I talk to you?" Danny said. Snapping the folder closed, he grabbed the basketball player by the shirt and dragged him out of the classroom by force. "You can't do this."
"What? What do you mean?" Wes demanded, shoving Danny's hands off him.
"If Ember finds out you learned who she was in life and exposed her, she'll kill you," he said, waving the folder emphatically in front of him. "Bringing up a ghost's life or death is one of the biggest taboos in ghost culture. She won't just haunt you, she'll straight up murder you. Until you die."
"Oh, please." Wes crossed his arms. In all the time he'd spent trying to expose Danny as Phantom, Wes had studied up on ghosts and ghost culture quite intensely. He hardly considered himself an expert, but quite frankly, his knowledge was on par with some of the leaders in the field of ectology. "Her popularity will skyrocket once her old songs start circulating. Personal obsession trumps cultural taboo every time, we both know that."
"Not during the Truce," Danny refuted.
"Well, yes, obviously the Truce is an exception; it's the Truce," Wes said. "And I'm not so insensitive that I'm gonna tell everyone in school how she died, I just wanted to rub it in specifically your face that I figured it out, seeing as how you doubted me a few weeks ago." Danny narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Wes.
"You'd better not tell everyone," he said, but he took a step back. "And if you do, you don't get to implicate me in any of this, got it? I won't have her after me again now that we're not at each other's throats anymore." He shoved the folder to Wes' chest.
"Yeah, whatever." With that the two of them went back into the classroom, where pretty much everyone was listening intently to the tinny music still playing. Wes discreetly slipped his evidence folder into his backpack before anyone else could ask about it, and wrote down the names of people who came by his desk to tell him they wanted to buy a CD once he had them.
The next day, Wes started selling copies of the CD for ten bucks a pop. Within a week, he had enough money to buy himself a brand new camera to replace the one Danny had destroyed a few months back. He turned out to be right about Ember being cool with him selling her old songs, though she demanded he give her a copy. She was even a little nostalgic listening to them, and she almost cried when Wes told her he'd gotten them from an old fan of hers.
It got Wes thinking about what other ghosts might feel if he reminded them of their past. The next on his list, he decided, was the Box Ghost. Why him? Frankly, Wes just wanted to know what that guy's deal was.
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