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#and again like so many people go the other way with and definitely projecting some Stuff onto him (no shame about it just an observation)
goodluckclove · 3 days
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An Open Letter to a Professional Author
I came across a writer here who I imagine will probably never see this, but their presence was enough to make me pretty mad for two days now. I've decided to pen a little statement to this Long-Term, Professional, Full-Time, Published Author who makes a habit out of being deeply unpleasant in a way that apparently has only attracted an audience of other deeply unpleasant people.
People here seem to like it when I get mad. So, uh, enjoy?
Dear Professional Author,
I came across a post of yours on some feed here the other day and enjoyed your commentary. It was one of those writing memes that sort of called attention to actually writing as opposed to just thinking about your project - the kind that people usually respond to with some sort of joke expressing their repulsion at the concept.
You responded with distaste and I generally agreed. The tone was a little aggressive for me, but that kind of humor also leaves me generally confused. I personally ended up concluding that the self-deprecating humor was a coping mechanism for a larger issue that keeps these people from writing - intimidation, lack of confidence, physical or mental pain, things like that. You seemed to think it was a matter of will, which I found to be an approach that at the very least was well-intentioned.
Turns out it wasn't.
First off, I should say that this isn't about your political beliefs. Your political beliefs that are really more like general human beliefs. I don't want to get into that. Instead, I just want to talk about your writing. You are a full-time, published author, as you say in nearly post where you talk about writing. A major point of pride to you seems to be the fact that you are traditionally published. Any other method doesn't seem to be as legitimate to you. That's interesting to me.
You also don't seem to have much of an audience outside of people who mainly come to agree with your politics. I didn't really see a single positive interaction between you and another writer on here for as much as I was willing to scroll through your blog. That's also interesting to me.
I didn't spent too much time on your blog once I realized that you were definitely not the kind of person I would ever want any interaction with. What I did want to do is use your presence indirectly to prove a point that I've been wanting to get into for some time now.
To put it simply, I'll say this: a career in professional writing is not actually as cool or important as you might think it is.
Now I'll be direct and say that I've never been traditionally published for anything longer than a short story or long-term, unpaid column. You don't give any details on any of your writing, as far as I've seen (Once again - interesting!), so there's a chance you've made more in contracts and royalties than I have. But I'm a working writer. I've had a career in ghostwriting and technical writing. I've written and produced plays that have been featured in festivals in multiple states. I'm not speaking from a place of no experience, is what I mean to say.
What I also mean to say is that - while I view writing in many ways as a spiritual and healing act that I couldn't live without - it's also a job. It's not always exciting, and even when it is exciting it's only exciting to me. I consider the best date night to be when my wife works on video game development while I write my draft. I leave the house on a regular basis, but it's mainly to go to different places to write.
In short - I love to write, but I don't think it makes me cool. Or interesting. Or valuable. Or intelligent. Or just generally fun to be around and talk to. These are things I strive to cultivate in other aspects of the way I live and grow as a human being on this planet.
Being a Professional Author in one particular genre doesn't give you authority over the craft as a whole. You can't just throw yourself into conversations and start with I'm a published writer and assume that means you have the final say on any discussion. Believe it or not, in many cases it does not matter.
Lots of people are published traditionally, and it does prove some level of validity in their line of work. But there are a huge variety of people in the world of trad pub. There are people who write books in genres that don't apply to writers here. There are people who write books that aren't very good. There are even people who write trad pub books that are very good, but their careers are sullied by the fact that the authors themselves are not good people.
Being a successful writer does not mean you're a good person. Being a writer at all does not mean you are a good person. I believe in Death of the Author to an extent, but when that author insists on making a presence on a public website and doling out advice and opinions to other writers the lines start to blur considerably.
Writing is a job. You work it over a period of time and learn skills and strategies that work for you. The same applies to virtually every other job, including ones that society views as less romantic as something in the arts. Can you imagine me breaking into your home while you're making lunch and telling you how to arrange your cheese slices based on what I know as a full-time, professional sandwich artist at Subway? You might be interested based on leaning something you didn't know about a place you might've eaten at before. But that does not entitle me to your respect on its own.
I am not entitled to your respect based on how well I learned how to make a sandwich based on my hypothetical career at Subway. Just as I don't deserve it solely because I know two card tricks, can get out a variety of stains, read most of the works of the major beatniks, can make a really good carbonara, or any other specific about my life that ultimately does not play a huge part in who I am as a person.
When I am on my death bed, I hope to god the core of my character was not the fact that I typed stories from my brain until I got carpal tunnel. If my obituary begins and ends at "writer", no matter how positive the qualifier is before that, it will be the greatest failure of my life.
Because I am a writer. But that does not matter. It does not matter if you're a writer. It can be fun and enjoyable if you are, even better if you make a living at it, but it doesn't mean you'll be happy. It doesn't mean people will like you or perceive you to be the leader and teacher you might think you are. It certainly doesn't give you a free pass to throw cruelty at strangers for truly no real reason.
Professional Author, you had a chance to raise up the next generation of an industry I assume you must value. You're choosing not to, and that's fine. You don't have the obligation to. You do have the choice to not get involved and pretend to give advice that ranges from vague to untrue. You seem to be taking that responsibility very seriously.
It's like some twist on crab mentality, where instead of dragging crabs trying to escape the bucket you're swiping at anyone who tries to crawl in with you. Then, as they struggle, you're looking down at them and making comments on how easy it is to get in the bucket, if you only just do it and maybe read some books.
To all of us, I say this: question authority, even in the arts. Especially in the arts. Nobody knows as much as they say. That includes me, but I do know this - any branch of publishing feels really good. It's scary but it's fun. If you're traditional published or indie published or self published, it says nothing about how good your book is or how good you are as a writer or how valuable you are as a human being.
Don't be this lonely bucket crab. They seem mean and I'm tired of talking about them.
Best Regards,
Clove
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dreamersscape · 11 months
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Does it feel like life is permanently set to extreme hard mode and I still feel super crappy greater than 90% of the time? Yup. But! Emboldened by our relative success with last year's tomatoes, we have given it another go and have added a little pepper plant friend for them. :)
(It may look like the peppers aren't doing as well as the tomatoes, but it cannot be overstated just how bananas this plant's growth chart has been; it's determined to escape the confines of its basket-cage; it has to be constantly rotated so it doesn't completely lose the battle with gravity; I only took this picture the other day and it already looks SO outdated. Can't stop, WON'T STOP.)
#anyways the plan for today is to make some good headway on my 'correspondence' so I guess we'll see how that goes *sheepish laughter*#don't worry I'm not guilting myself over my ridiculously sporadic ability to socially engage -#(not much anyhow I swear!)#- it's just you guys have no idea how much I've MISSED y'all! how I've YEARNED to be able to geek out with you'uns over the blorbos and#their fictional worlds. Like. Please picture me gazing longingly into the middle distance while sorrowfully belting:#🎶 I wanna beeee where the (tumblr) people are. I wanna see... wanna see 'em meta-iiiing! 🎶#🎶 frolicking around in their - what're they called again? - oh right! plot bunnies! 🎶#🎶 incrementally crawling your way through your backlog of content to consume and unexpectedly stumbling your way#into a few new hyper-fixations while the already-there ones continue to rage on you don't get too far... 🎶#🎶 posts (and reblogs and messages and actually finishing a few of your fan creation projects and...) are required for jumping (into#fandoms); dancing (with your friends in gleeful delight over your shared headcanons)! 🎶#🎶 [...] up where they talk (to each other at normal intervals)! up where they (don't) run (out of energy so fast)! 🎶#🎶 up where they stay all day IN THE SUNNNNNNNNN 🎶#🎶 wandering free. wish I could be. PART OF THAT WOOOORLD 🎶#I could go on but I think you get the gist of it 😆#and I definitely know I'm not along in this feeling; at the very least I'm sure that is a familiar tune#in many contexts for anyone else struggling with chronic fatigue/illness among other things#I just wish I could find a better way to intermingle extending kindness and patience to myself and rolling around in fictional character#feelings /together/ with my friends without having to insert such long gaps in between you know?#okay woebegone rambling aside thanks guys for not forgetting about me while I've been gone <3#and let me assure you I haven't forgotten you all either 'cause boy do I need to SHARE SOME STUFF with you!#random musings of a personal nature#I JUST WANNA BE THRIVING HALF AS GOOD AS THOSE TOMATOES YA FEEL ME?
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cheonstapes · 18 days
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miguel o’hara stars in… ‘SUGAR BABY CHRONICLES’ ヽ(´o`;
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・゜゚・*:.。..。. miguel o’hara x fem!reader .。. .。.:*・゜゚・
SMUT
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REQUEST from my lovely @miguelzslvtz; So I was thinking of an older!Sugar daddy Miguel x reader. The reader is working at small country club and Miguel noticed her. She’s serving him drinks, and taking care of him. He tells her she’s too good to be working there and introduced the idea of being her sugar daddy (basically some arm candy). He invites her over to his mansion for a party and she’s dressed up for him🫶🏻 all night she’s being looked at by other men and woman, he’s being very protective of her. He loves on her all night and makes sure she’s taken care of💗💗spoiled✨
cw; older!miguel, slight age gap (reader is in early 20s, miguel is in early 30s), cumming inside, slight breeding(not really, i just have a problem), sugardaddy!miguel, readers a little bit of a tsundere kinda, miguel’s really in love, cunnilings, shower sex, hair pulling, NAWT PROOFREAD!!
4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)
@cheonstapes; hi again…🤗 these hiatuses are killing me. i’ve been absolutely swamped and i lost so much motivation to write but im glad to say i think i’ve found my footing. i found myself again and i’ll work on balancing everything from now on! i apologise for the mammoth amount of time it took me to do this (this is what i get for working chronologically) and i have not forgotten about your requests if you sent one! pyramids and project ex will still be coming but i want to make sure requests are out of the way as they’ve been there for months and it’s not fair for the lovely people who’ve waited so long. thanks again! i love you all🩷
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you loved your job, you really did.
not many people can say that genuinely, but when you’re getting the tips you’re getting, seeing the men you’re seeing, you definitely don’t wanna leave anytime soon. working at such an elite club meant you were among the rich of the rich — the big shots of the city that wouldn’t be caught anywhere else.
at the very least, the uniform was modest enough — obviously though, there would always be a few buttons left undone on your shirt, your skirt pulled up just that little bit higher. that window of flesh, no matter how small, was a guaranteed extra thousand in your pocket by the end of the night — and that wasn’t even counting him.
mr. o’hara. that’s all you knew him by. the man was overtly secretive, often arriving alone or occasionally with a very small group of associates. he was by far your biggest tipper. at times, you wondered if he owned the club due to the pure influence he has on your boss — somehow, much to your excitement, convincing him to bump your pay-check up by a lofty sum. the amount of money you make could send you into an early retirement, but of course you wouldn’t do that. it meant you wouldn’t get to learn more about him, and you needed to learn more about him.
summer was always the busiest, the great weather meaning there was more members than usual coming out to play. although, running around and serving for 9 hours a day was extremely tiring — gruelling even. there was sweat dripping down your face, your black dress feeling like a leather coat with the way it clung to you like second skin.
one last drink. you had one last drink to serve and then you could go on your break. double checking the table number, your eyes widened slightly as you saw him. mr. o’hara was not a small man by any means — the bulging muscles tucked away under his tight dress shirt, shoulders almost akin in length with the table. to put it simply, he was the epitome of sexy. you were barely at his table and you could smell him already, the masculine musk of his oud creating a musky, rose scented bubble that ensnared all your senses.
“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”
yes, yes it was. but he really wanted to hear you say it. your voice was such a sweet caress to his ear — he could guarantee an angel got its wings every time you spoke. miguel usually prides himself on being in control of his emotions, his body — but having a pretty, little thing like you just within his grasp was the ultimate challenge of restraint.
the man felt absolutely helpless, his heart pounding in his chest like a hormonal teenage boy when you placed the drink in front of him. “you know it, mr. o’hara — you order the same thing everyday.” fuck. the sip he was having was definitely becoming more than a sip the longer he held the cup to his mouth — chub twitching against the fabric of his slacks.
you were just the sweetest little thing — much more enthusiastic than the other girls that worked there. he might be just imagining it too, but he can feel deep in his heart that you dress up just for him. miguel knows you want him, and he’s more than happy to give himself to you.
“you know me better than i know myself, dulzura. almost like you’re keeping tabs on me, hm?”
“i mean, yeah, i kinda am. it’s my job, mr. o’hara. you’re one of our most frequent regulars, it’d be crazy if i couldn’t tell you your order ‘fore you give it to me.”
oh…yeah.
in miguel’s defence, it’s been a while….a long while since he last flirted — and having an 8-year-old daughter who’s judging your every move means there’s not a lot of time to work on your game. but he’d be damned if he lost an angel like you, he will be yours. plus, gabi does need a woman like you in her life too.
“do you enjoy it, though? your job, I mean — not keeping tabs on me.”
“you probably won’t believe this, but i actually do. the pay’s good, at least, and i can afford to pay my bills, uni, and still have fun. i’m kinda lucky, i guess.”
“you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me, nena.”
miguel knew he was probably breaking some sorta rule, flirting with staff or whatever — but god you were worth it. if being able to take you home meant that he would never set foot in the club again, then so be it.
“sorry, what was that, sir?”
“…quit your job — not in a ‘you’re bad at your job way’ — i’ll take care of you. i can give you everything, anything you want.”
you couldn’t say you were surprised, especially with the nature of your job — old men say stuff like this to you all the time. but, miguel wasn’t any old man. as much as you loved your job, had a stable income and good connections — the thought of quitting and running away with a man like him? fuck, it was so tempting.
“alright then. i hope you live up to those words, mr. o’hara.”
———————————————————————————
mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)
i’m throwing an event at work tonight, i want you to be there.
sent 16:42
(y.n)
hi, mr o’hara. i’d love to but i finish work at 7,i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it. and i don’t really have anything to wear :(
sent 16:50
mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)
don’t worry about it, gorgeous. i’ve already got you off work for the rest of the week, and i’ve got you something nice to wear.
sent 16:50
(y.n)
oh, really? well, i guess i’ll see you there then! ;)
sent 16:56
mr. sugardaddy
mmhm, i can’t wait to see you, babe. and call me miguel.
sent 16:56
———————————————————————————
miguel had promptly sent his driver to pick you up in a sleek black sports car, much to the dismay of your co-workers. a beautifully wrapped box was placed on the seat beside you, a bouquet of orchids and a small note that read ‘for you, las flores más bonitas para la chica más guapa - m’
it was hard to not feel a tinge if heat was rising in your face, for someone whom you’re only just getting to know to be so utterly romantic — it was a new experience! relationships had never been something you were particularly interested in, but there was no denying the allure that someone like miguel held and only time could tell how it would all play out.
arriving at his mansion, which was nothing short of jaw dropping — the halls were mostly desolate aside from the quite bustle of the staff that were preparing for tonight’s ball. an elderly woman escorts you upstairs to the master bedroom, your eyes roaming the area as you take in the grandeur of the building — aged walls paired with a modern nueva york touch.
“where’s mr. o— miguel?” the woman turns to you, an indecipherable smile on her lips.
“mr. o’hara is just getting prepared for the ball. don’t fret over him, he’ll join you shortly.” well, it was a bit rude to invite someone over and not be there to greet them but ok! “ah, i forgot to mention,” she opens the door, stepping aside to let you in. “i left you a little something on the dresser. i believe you both’ll be needing it.” the woman winks, silently closing the door behind her — leaving you alone in the large room.
god, even the room smelt like him. a musky wood and cinnamon smell, with the faintest hint of vanilla from the candle burning by the window sill. it wasn’t everyday you were in the presence of such luxury, especially old money luxury. your eyes flitted over to the dresser the woman was referring to, that sneaky grandma.
a box of xl condoms, birth control, towels, all wrapped in a cute gift basket. “seriously? who does she think i am? i’m not fucking on the first date.” wait— was this a date? it definitely felt like one, but it was hard to be 100% sure. this was too much to deal with now, all that was left to worry about was the ball and getting ready.
on the bed behind you lay a beautifully wrapped box, with a red ribbon to top it off. it fell gracefully onto the bedsheets as you unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal the shimmering red dress underneath. a sleeveless satin dress, fabric lined with the finest crystals, a slit raising mid thigh, lined a sheer lace. it was the definition of classy, with a hint of seduction.
putting it on felt like a crime, something so beautifully should be preserved and put into a museum. it took all of your willpower to not tuck the dress away somewhere safe and just go and get one of your own — but alas, it was a gift, the least you could do is wear it. the craziest part was how perfect it fit. practically a glove, clinging onto every curve and crevice of your body — extenuating places you never even noticed before.
smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure it was as perfect as possible — fuck, you looked hot. the colour complimented your skin exquisitely, adding a soft glow to your complexion. in the time it took you to get ready, it seemed like the party was already amping up. you could see the surge of people from the window, flashing lights and an abundance of cars being handed to the concierges. you still had yet to see miguel and what better time to look for him than now?
there was a pair of red heels that matched the dress to a T, slipping them on and bouncing down the steps. the butterflies fluttered wildly in your tummy the nearer you got to the party, joining the line of people being checked in by security. though, from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of him. standing there in all his 6’ glory, curls lightly slicked back, wearing a tight button up shirt and those sexy slacks.
something about seeing miguel like this, so carefree and relaxed, set something off inside of you. even though you were supposed to be his guest, you did everything in your power to avoid his gaze — purely cause you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact him for longer than a few minutes without jumping his bones. but of course, fate was destiny’s whore, and soon enough you were being escorted straight into the ballroom.
“were you avoiding me, cielo?”
a hand splayed across your waist, leading you deeper inside the hall as he whispered in your ear. it was obviously due to the fact that you probably couldn’t hear him all too well because to the loud music, but the way his hands caressed your sides, his lips brushing against the lobe of your ear — it felt all too intentional.
“no…i just didn’t want to cut in line. i figured i’d see you when i see you.”
“is that so?” he slid a champagne flute in your hands, grabbing one of his own as he tilted his head at you — a stray curl unfurling down his forehead. “you’re like an open book, cariño. you think i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head by now?”
“so you’ve been studying me, hm?” now it was your turn to raise a brow, tilting your head back as you took a long sip of your champagne. it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he had been, it was kinda obvious from all the stares he’d give you and when he’d ‘enquire’ about you from your colleagues.
“mmm, studying’s a strong word. i was simply…observing you. can’t blame me for wanting to know someone as enchanting as you better.”
he had quite the mouth on him, didn’t he? you couldn’t stop the small smile that graces your lips, shaking your head in disbelief.
“you’re so stupid, miguel.”
“if falling for you is stupid, then i’m the dumbest of them all.”
it was so bad, so bad that it was actually good. and that comment shaped the rest of your night together. considering your new arrangement, he took the liberty of introducing you to his circle of friends and their wives — conveniently leaving out that he was your new sugar daddy, but that was a story for another day. miguel revelled in the looks they all gave you, seemingly forgetting they themselves had a date nestled on their arms. he really couldn’t have picked a better dress, but damn if it wasn’t killing him.
you really didn’t know how beautiful you were, and he so badly wanted to show you. the dim lighting was a blessing for the tent in his slacks, giving him a flimsy disguise for the arousal he felt at that moment. after more than a few drinks too, wandering hands and lingering words, it was becoming unbearable. however, scaring you off wasn’t on his bucket list tonight. he didn’t take this long fighting for your attention to loose you on the first date. he vowed to do everything at your pace, leaving it up to you to make the first move.
as the party wrapped up, and miguel said his goodbyes — you stood at the door, shivering from the cold air as it nipped against your bare arms. the fun you had was incomparable to any party you’ve ever been to, but you thought you may have overstayed your welcome. shakily tapping on your phone with freezing fingers, ordering an uber to pick you up —
“leaving already?”
“yeah, i had a lot of fun tonight, though.” it was a genuine smile, one that spoke a million words. “thanks for inviting me, miguel.”
for a man so big he sure did move so silently. he stood behind you, gently grasping your hand in his as she looked down on you. “when i invited you, i didn’t invite you as a mere guest — you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
it didn’t even sound like he was simply offering, miguel was begging. you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice — urging you to stay the night, stay with him.
“miguel, are you sure? i don’t even have anything to change—“
“i’ve already organised sleepwear for you, but you could wear something of mine if you’d like?”
that sly smirk slid its way onto his face once again, rolling your eyes as you walked past him — pulling out your phone to cancel the uber. “fine, i’ll stay. i might take you up on that offer too.”
lo and behold, an array of skincare and pyjamas were set out on his bed as you entered the master bedroom once again — and to top it off, gift bags filled with designer items that you’d never thought you’d ever own. “miguel…is this all for me?”
“unless i have another sugar baby, who else would it be for? ‘course it’s for you, darling — consider it a…’welcome’ gift.”
“more like my entire tuition fee, hell. you didn’t have to spend all this money on me, y’know?”
“cariño,” you could see miguel walking up to him from the mirror in front, his arm slipping round your waist to pull you into his back. “i spend my money how i want, and i want to spend it on you. so i don’t want to hear no more complaining from you, understand.” the small nod you gave earned a small grin from him, a hand smoothing up the curve of your back until it reached the shimmering zipper under your neck.
“you look like a goddess tonight, baby. so fucking beautiful…” his words were whispered softly into your neck, gentle breaths caressing your skin. as he spoke, the zipper slid lower and lower — until your dress was held together by the tips of his fingers. the cold metal of his rings brushed against your bare skin, the tips of his fingers dancing on the curve of your waist as he lets the fabric pool at your feet.
“m-miguel, i’m sweaty from all the dancing! at least let me wash up first, or something.” if you weren’t sweating much then, you were definitely sweating buckets now. the heat radiating from you mixed with the heat simmering between the two of you made for a heady cocktail of unspoken desire — and you silently cursing yourself for almost breaking the number one rule: ‘don’t fuck on the first date.’
“we can use my shower then, it’s large enough for the both of us.” we? oh, you’re definitely breaking that rule now. “i didn’t say this was gonna be a joint effort, did i? i can wash myself, miguel.” you weren’t even convincing yourself with the breathy way you spoke, the way he was caressing you, the pure adoration in his voice was something you haven’t felt before. plus, this is the guy who’s willingly paying you to simply be around him — it’s a win-win situation.
“i know you can, baby —“ letting out a deep chuckle, miguel intertwined your hands and lead you towards the bathroom — “but it’s more fun with two, no?” the gentle pitter-patter of the waterfall shower reverberated through the silence of the room, the sound of fabric rustling followed shortly after. glancing down at your feet, miguel’s clothing was promptly discarded — your widened eyes trailing up his hefty frame.
“fucking christ…”
the man in front of you was nothing short of absolutely beautiful. despite spending everyday surrounded by older men, you never found yourself truly attracted to them until now — or maybe it was simply just miguel himself. “i thought you wanted to take a shower, muñeca?” oh, yeah, the shower. before you could even finish your thought, miguel was already occupying half of the space in there, leaving a small pocket for you to slide into.
the expeditious beating of your heart was muffled by the steady stream of water, but it was more than clear to miguel what you were feeling in that moment. the moment was strangely intimate, and dare i say innocent, for the predicament you found yourself in. his hands gently roamed your skin, barely making contact with any sensitive areas aside from fleeting brushes. he made a point to use his hands instead of a rag, claiming he could ‘clean you better than a flimsy cloth’.
it was truly getting unbearable, utterly frustrating. your subconscious and ovaries were in an intense battle of wits, when a third party made itself known in the worst way possible. you really had forgotten that miguel was as naked as you were until you felt the base of his cock slide between your ass cheeks, chest flush against his back. the slightest hitch of your already shaky breath earned another rich laugh from within him, thick fingers playing with the skin of your tummy.
“you feeling cleaner or what? i’m more than happy to keep going if you are, baby.”
of course you wanted him to keep going! you were already as wet as is, in every way possible. “i..i think you might’ve missed a spot.” the hand on your tummy paused, his breath hitting your ear as he bent down slightly. “i did? i like to consider myself very thorough, cariño — enlighten me.” you did your best to turn with the small space you had, looking up at him with a more confident expression than the one you wore previously.
“here.”
now it was miguel’s turn to be surprised, the tip of his finger brushing against your swollen clit before tapping against your slit. it had been so long since you had a real good fuck, and right now you were genuinely about to give this man some babies if he kept on smiling like that. “mm, looks like i did. forgive me for being so careless. i’ll make sure she gets extra attention.” his words trailed off as he sunk to his knees, the gentle spray of water splattering against his face.
he tapped your ass, lifting you up with one hand as he pressed you against the cool glass, legs resting on his shoulders. his pretty lashes were dusted with droplets of water as he gazed at you from between your thighs, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin as he kneaded your skin gently. his thick tongue was enough to completely spread you open, eagerly collecting your creamy essence.
miguel was moaning like a pure slut, you would think he got more pleasure in eating you out than you did. his eyes were rolled back, hips absentmindedly bucking to the rhythm of the shower as he sucked on your clit. the position was not uncomfortable by any means, but the unadulterated pleasure you were feeling made it hard to stay upright — nails raking down the expensive marble tiles as you practically grasped for straws.
“grab my hair, darling. i don’t want you to fall.”
whilst his words were slightly muffled, the undeniable concern in his voice had you moaning embarrassingly loud. miguel was clearly strong enough to hold you up all alone, so you surrendered the grip you had on the wall to rake your trembling fingers through his hair — tugging on the curly strands.
“nngh..fuck..”
he fucking whimpered. miguel o’hara, the richest and most powerful man in this city, was shamelessly whimpering between your thighs. that was certainly the biggest ego boost ever, the fact that it’s your pussy that has this huge man so drunk. pushing out your hips, you practically smothered his face — riding him mid-air as you felt the delicious sensations bubbling up inside of your stomach. breathless chants of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the panels.
“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!
the jerks of your body made miguel grip your ass tightly, licking his lips of your release as he shuffled upwards, grinning down at your disheveled form. “you’re breathtaking when you cum for me, beautiful. can’t believe you’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips, forehead to forehead as he kissed you for the first time. it felt like a million tiny fireworks going off inside of you, the previous tension in your body instantly melting away as you leaned into his touch — tongue’s pressing against each other as drooled slipped down your necks.
he kept his mouth latched onto yours as he gripped his leaking cock, dipping the pearly tip inside of your sensitive hole. his movements were unhurried, sloppily kissing you as he dipped in-and-out, in-and-out. it was a steady pace that you soon found yourself liking more than usual, a stark contrast to the inexperienced fucking’s you were getting before. “inside, please…i wanna feel you, all of you.”
you were too dangerous for this old man’s heart. having a pretty little thing like you beg for him to fuck you like you deserved, to mold that sweet cunt into the shape of his cock — it was all too tempting. he was more than willing to do anything his sweet baby asked him to, and he wasted no time in giving in to you. “shit, cielo, no one’s ever fucked you right, huh? she’s gripping onto me like a vice.”
he was right, in every sense of the word. you didn’t know how many partners he had before you, and really didn’t want to find out — but one thing was for sure, miguel knew exactly how to please you. your head fell against his chest, his hand lifting it up by your chin as he pumped into you. “tell me, dulzura, i’m the only one that’s made you feel like this? only man to fuck this perfect pussy right?”
he took the tiny nods and breathy whimpers as a yes, grinning like a madman as he revealed in the satisfaction of ruining you for anyone else — not like he was gonna let you go in the first place. his pace picked up vigorously, finding the perfect balance between pounding into your sore cunt and softly rutting against your ass. the skin where you both combined was tinged red, the on-going waterfall above unable to fully wash away the evidence of your cream on his pelvis.
“only you, miguel — no one…no one’s better than you. i’m yours, daddy.”
those words, hushed and warm, pushed his already inflated ego to the edge. his hips bucked widly, prodding at the spongy spot inside of you as she pressed his lips against yours once more. all sounds were trapped between your connected lips, muffling the choked squeal that left your lips and the guttural groan that left his as he came deep inside you. he did promise to clean you extra throughly, and what better way to do that than flushing out your canal with his cum!
he lazily rolled his hips against yours, ignoring the sticky liquid bubbling on the side of his spent cock. “did so well for me, my beautiful princess. i’m so proud of you.” the fluttering of your heart made you instinctively turn away, cheeks flaring with heat as you pouted — you really can’t believe you fucked on the first bloody date. your little tough act didn’t fool miguel, in fact it fuelled him even more. he continued to praise your very essence, worshiping the ground you walk on despite your protests — smiling softly as he sees your fierce resolve weaken. “there she is, you ready to let me love on you now?”
“yeah, yeah. but first, we need an actual shower. no fucking this time.”
“no promises.”
this was the last place you saw yourself in life, but maybe being in miguel’s arms were where you were supposed to be.
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- thank you for waiting and make sure to watch ateez at coachella!!!!!
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
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hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(
A few different ways
1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially
Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.
And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.
Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting
2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.
But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so
3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case
We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure
4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible
Yeah, you read that right.
Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.
We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.
I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)
But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture
The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come
There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals
As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere
If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down
If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly
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not-terezi-pyrope · 3 months
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Often when I post an AI-neutral or AI-positive take on an anti-AI post I get blocked, so I wanted to make my own post to share my thoughts on "Nightshade", the new adversarial data poisoning attack that the Glaze people have come out with.
I've read the paper and here are my takeaways:
Firstly, this is not necessarily or primarily a tool for artists to "coat" their images like Glaze; in fact, Nightshade works best when applied to sort of carefully selected "archetypal" images, ideally ones that were already generated using generative AI using a prompt for the generic concept to be attacked (which is what the authors did in their paper). Also, the image has to be explicitly paired with a specific text caption optimized to have the most impact, which would make it pretty annoying for individual artists to deploy.
While the intent of Nightshade is to have maximum impact with minimal data poisoning, in order to attack a large model there would have to be many thousands of samples in the training data. Obviously if you have a webpage that you created specifically to host a massive gallery poisoned images, that can be fairly easily blacklisted, so you'd have to have a lot of patience and resources in order to hide these enough so they proliferate into the training datasets of major models.
The main use case for this as suggested by the authors is to protect specific copyrights. The example they use is that of Disney specifically releasing a lot of poisoned images of Mickey Mouse to prevent people generating art of him. As a large company like Disney would be more likely to have the resources to seed Nightshade images at scale, this sounds like the most plausible large scale use case for me, even if web artists could crowdsource some sort of similar generic campaign.
Either way, the optimal use case of "large organization repeatedly using generative AI models to create images, then running through another resource heavy AI model to corrupt them, then hiding them on the open web, to protect specific concepts and copyrights" doesn't sound like the big win for freedom of expression that people are going to pretend it is. This is the case for a lot of discussion around AI and I wish people would stop flagwaving for corporate copyright protections, but whatever.
The panic about AI resource use in terms of power/water is mostly bunk (AI training is done once per large model, and in terms of industrial production processes, using a single airliner flight's worth of carbon output for an industrial model that can then be used indefinitely to do useful work seems like a small fry in comparison to all the other nonsense that humanity wastes power on). However, given that deploying this at scale would be a huge compute sink, it's ironic to see anti-AI activists for that is a talking point hyping this up so much.
In terms of actual attack effectiveness; like Glaze, this once again relies on analysis of the feature space of current public models such as Stable Diffusion. This means that effectiveness is reduced on other models with differing architectures and training sets. However, also like Glaze, it looks like the overall "world feature space" that generative models fit to is generalisable enough that this attack will work across models.
That means that if this does get deployed at scale, it could definitely fuck with a lot of current systems. That said, once again, it'd likely have a bigger effect on indie and open source generation projects than the massive corporate monoliths who are probably working to secure proprietary data sets, like I believe Adobe Firefly did. I don't like how these attacks concentrate the power up.
The generalisation of the attack doesn't mean that this can't be defended against, but it does mean that you'd likely need to invest in bespoke measures; e.g. specifically training a detector on a large dataset of Nightshade poison in order to filter them out, spending more time and labour curating your input dataset, or designing radically different architectures that don't produce a comparably similar virtual feature space. I.e. the effect of this being used at scale wouldn't eliminate "AI art", but it could potentially cause a headache for people all around and limit accessibility for hobbyists (although presumably curated datasets would trickle down eventually).
All in all a bit of a dick move that will make things harder for people in general, but I suppose that's the point, and what people who want to deploy this at scale are aiming for. I suppose with public data scraping that sort of thing is fair game I guess.
Additionally, since making my first reply I've had a look at their website:
Used responsibly, Nightshade can help deter model trainers who disregard copyrights, opt-out lists, and do-not-scrape/robots.txt directives. It does not rely on the kindness of model trainers, but instead associates a small incremental price on each piece of data scraped and trained without authorization. Nightshade's goal is not to break models, but to increase the cost of training on unlicensed data, such that licensing images from their creators becomes a viable alternative.
Once again we see that the intended impact of Nightshade is not to eliminate generative AI but to make it infeasible for models to be created and trained by without a corporate money-bag to pay licensing fees for guaranteed clean data. I generally feel that this focuses power upwards and is overall a bad move. If anything, this sort of model, where only large corporations can create and control AI tools, will do nothing to help counter the economic displacement without worker protection that is the real issue with AI systems deployment, but will exacerbate the problem of the benefits of those systems being more constrained to said large corporations.
Kinda sucks how that gets pushed through by lying to small artists about the importance of copyright law for their own small-scale works (ignoring the fact that processing derived metadata from web images is pretty damn clearly a fair use application).
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angel-eyes05 · 11 months
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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known
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pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 
summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office
warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death
word count:  4.1k
notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)
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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.
You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.
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Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.
Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.
You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.
When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 
How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.
Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.
The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.
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The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.
Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.
That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.
“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.
“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.
“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.
The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.
“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.
“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”
Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.
He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”
He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.
“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”
You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”
He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 
“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.
Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.
First though, you had to find Gwen.
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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao
NEXT CHAPTER
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oscalesoffeeling · 2 years
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people who make tar.kin out to be too romantic: greatly misinterpreting him
people who make tar.kin too cold: greatly misinterpreting him
#same with making him too gentlemanly or too feral.... he's a mix baby it's one of my favorite things about him.#he's a big cat he's a prince he'd tear you to shreds with his bare hands and eat your heart as he stares unflinchingly into your eyes as#your life fades from them. and he'd kiss your hand upon greeting like a true gent. nobody gets him but me fr....#when i write him as being all lovey dovey it's after some character growth has happened!!! like he's different now to me with me bc#he's changed as a person bc of Me. but just straight up interpreting him As Is as a true keatsian romantic is like. so so wrong.#</333 and then people who make him out to be the most heartless unfeeling monster in the world. wrong. bad. stop it. he can be but he isn't#a lot of the time!!!! that's a very key part of his personality is that he has this lurking simmering animalistic rage and cruelty inside#him that he chooses not to act on to keep face. but he isn't like a total fucking asshole the moment he lets his guard down fr.#he can be tender he can be gentle literally IN CANON. read lost stars and then talk to me. bitch. ehafvyuhcgxyfhvjgerhdfc#and he isn't like always pissed off he's just rough man. he's a rough guy. but that doesn't mean he can't be genuinely nice and polite fr#and again like so many people go the other way with and definitely projecting some Stuff onto him (no shame about it just an observation)#and make him a polite kind old gent who just Happens to be a dick when he needs to be. which also isn't true.#he chooses to be mean and rude and cruel and hurt people all the time and he actively enjoys it. he's a bad dude.#he can be nice and good and sweet tho i assure you. ya'll don't get him like i do </33#there's literally so much wrong with him AND he's an asshole and he's a nice fella and kind and gentle :) ok. he bites with same mouth he#kisses. people. shut the hell up!!!! no one gets my blorbo but me event 128738374 killed 81347758 injured.#he spun the stars on his fingernails (tag)#ellie rambles about stuff#i don't CARE if lovers thought him cold i don't care idc idc he's not like that with his only current canon love interest btw!!!#he got a lot of fake people giving him fake love. ok. motherfucker. maybe it was just a fling. he's Like That imo i don't think he'd#get super attached or romantic with a casual fuck buddy ok....#again like please. me and the besties are the only ones who understand him fr#/vent#i guess!! i guess!!!#i'm not a real stickler for canon but people out here are straight up misinterpreting his whole character!!!! i get him tho <333
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agaypanic · 3 months
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Regina's Barbie (Regina George X Reader)
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Summary: You’re Regina George’s latest project, but her reasoning for fixing you up is completely different than what you think.
A/N: a little drabble based on this ask that i answered a couple days ago bc it keeps getting interaction and lowkey i cant stop thinking about the concept ugh
***
“Hold still.” Regina scolded for what felt like the hundredth time, hand holding your jaw firmly to keep you in place while she put blush on your cheeks.
“Sorry.” You whispered, looking at the wall behind her so you didn’t have to face her intense gaze.
When Regina approached you one day, twirling her perfect blonde hair around her finger as she asked you if you wanted to hang out, you thought it was a prank. It had to have been, because there was no other reason why Regina George would even consider getting close to a ‘nobody’ like you. But when you stuttered out a response, her grin seemed genuine when telling you to meet you at her car after school. Sure enough, she was sitting in her car with the rest of the Plastics, beckoning you to come over and sit in the seat behind her.
Gretchen and Karen seemed to be a bit confused by your presence but didn’t question Regina. They welcomed you, but didn’t go out of their way to make conversation with you while Regina drove to the mall.
When she parked, Regina basically pulled you into shops by the arm, her friends rushing behind you. She thrusted some sweater into your hands, telling you that you just had to try it on. And when you tried telling her you couldn’t afford it, she rolled her eyes, took a credit card out of her purse, and dragged you to a fitting room.
And now you were here, perched on Regina’s bed while she did your makeup. She had insisted that the way you did it was all wrong and that you needed to know the proper way to do it. Gretchen and Karen weren’t here, which surprised you a bit. But you knew better than to question Regina.
“Okay, now you need lipgloss,” Regina said, looking through some of the glosses she had bought you. She opened one and looked at you. “Pucker up.”
You gulped at the demand, but did as she said. Regina grabbed your jaw again, a bit more gently this time, as she swiped the wand over your lips. She bit her lip in concentration as she stared at your mouth.
“Perfect.” She muttered, capping the gloss and taking you to one of her many mirrors.
You hardly recognized yourself, but Regina definitely didn’t do a bad job. She smiled at you through the mirror.
“What do you think?” She asked, leaning her head against yours a bit.
“I look…” It was hard to find an end to your sentence with the way Regina looked at you, like you were a piece of meat. “Pretty.”
“Hell yeah, you do.” She fiddled with your hair, trying to put it in a style she thought would be more suitable. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We’re going to a party later, so we gotta find something for you to wear.”
“What?” You were a bit taken aback, not expecting to go to a party tonight. Especially with Regina. “Couldn’t I just wear this?”
Regina laughed, and it didn’t seem like that fake, almost mocking laugh she’d do when people tried to be funny with her. It sounded genuine, like she was actually amused by your question.
“No way, Y/n! Wait here, I think I have something you can wear.” She sped into her closet, leaving you to stand awkwardly in her room. Luckily, she came back quickly with a two-piece outfit. Regina went behind you, hands holding the clothes up to your body. “You’d look so good in this. Besides, it’s better than, like, anything you own.”
She kissed your cheek before sending you off to the bathroom to change. It was so quick that you barely registered what had happened until you were already switching your clothes for hers. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing a faint lip print on your cheekbone. You decided to leave it, not wanting Regina to get mad at you for messing up the makeup she spent practically forever putting on you.
When you left the bathroom, Regina was fixing up her lipstick in the mirror. She turned to you and smiled a bit, straightening up a bit.
“See, I told you you’d look good.” She took your clothes, throwing them on the bed, before noticing the mark she left on you. Regina stepped closer to see it better, soon looking at you with the same hungry look from before. “Keep that, it’s hot.” Then she walked away to change her shoes.
You took a deep breath. This was gonna be a long night.
***
Part 2
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lnfours · 25 days
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i keep thinking of a second chance romance with lando, f.e. being young and having made stupid decisions when his career was just taking off, and then after a few years kind of wishing to get it all back🤔
i am: sobbing. i love second chance romances. also i got carried away… again…
lando brainrot? lando brainrot.
max fewtrell was the definition of a social butterfly. and if lando didn’t know that already, he sure did now. looking around at the crowd, he was almost sure his friend was more popular than him. he didn’t even know max knew this many people.
the music inside the house was loud, lando swore he could feel the bass in his heart. max had left him a while ago, the rest of the quadrant team off to god knows where. he stood in the kitchen, grabbing a drink and escaping from the crowd in the other room. he scanned the area as he tried his best to find someone to strike up a conversation with so he didn’t look like a total loser while his best friend made his rounds to different people.
that’s when he caught the first glimpse of you, making him do a double take as he looked back to where he thought he saw you. and sure enough, it was. you were here. in london. in the flesh. after all this time, you had come back.
his feet were moving before his brain could process what he was doing, mumbling soft ‘excuse me’s as he tried his hardest to reach you. luckily, ethan had found you and managed to keep you in a spot where he could join in on the conversation.
“that’s great, ethan!” you smiled, “congratulations!”
“thanks,” he smiled before lando caught his eye, “mate, look who’s here!”
you turned around to look at who ethan was talking to behind you, only to be met with those familiar green eyes and brown curls. you felt your heart squeeze in your chest, and all of a sudden you were brought back to when you were nineteen and madly in love.
scratch that, the only time you ever considered yourself to be in love.
you and lando weren’t necessarily on bad terms, the both of you had just drifted away. you had been through every thing together, attached to the hip since you were children. and the breakup was hard, sure, but with you moving to the states and his career taking off, neither of you had much time to think about it. you didn’t let yourself think about it.
“hey,” he said, coming to stand with the two of you now, “you’re… here?”
you smiled softly at the brit in front of you, “i wasn’t going to miss max’s engagement party.”
ethan had disappeared from the two of you, finding his way back to niran and aarav. it was just the two of you.
“yeah,” lando smiled softly, “uhm, how’s the states?”
“fine,” you shrugged, “no place like home, though.”
“you’re just back for the party?”
you hummed, taking a sip of your drink, “actually, they asked if i wanted to be a project leader for something they’re working on in the office over here, so i’m back in london for right now.”
he raised his eyebrows, “oh, that’s awesome, congratulations.”
you smiled, “thanks,” you couldn’t help it, your eyes taking him in. he looked good. so good. of course you still kept tabs on him, still watched the races when you had the chance to do so. but something about seeing him again after all this time, in the flesh and not on your tv screen, your heart was yearning, “saw your podium last week, mega drive.”
he shrugged, “it was alright, i guess.”
“don’t tell me you still do that.”
he laughed softly, “do what?”
“your thing!” you chuckled, “you do that thing where, no matter how good of a drive you have, you’re like ‘eh, could be better’.”
“well, it could be,” he said, “could’ve been me on the first place spot.”
“you’ll get there one day.”
he smiled softly at you before looking around the crowd. he spotted the door to that lead to the back deck that looked vacant, “did you want to step outside? get some air.”
you nodded and he offered you his hand. you took it gently, letting him lead you through the crowd of people before you reached the back door. he opened it, letting you step outside first. the cool summer breeze was a relief, the escaping from the loud music and an overwhelming amount of people.
“forgot why i loved this place so much,” you said, looking up at the night sky as he closed the door behind him, “you can see the stars here. can’t see much in new york.”
he hummed, stepping behind you, “might as well take in as much as the night sky you can get.”
“believe me, i am,” you chuckled softly, turning around to face him. the moonlight dimly lit his face as he stood in front of you, and you could finally see the start of a little bit of facial hair on his chin. you smiled teasingly, pointing at it, “i see you can finally grow facial hair,”
he rolled his eyes, “yeah and if i remember correctly, you said you were into guys with no facial hair.”
you twisted your lips in though, “still true.”
“damn,” he mumbled, bringing his hand up to his face, “guess i’ll have to go get a new razor tomorrow.”
you laughed, the two of you taking a seat on the steps of the porch. you looked back up at the sky, trying hard to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. trying so hard that your brain couldn’t filter the next words out of your mouth.
“what ever happened with us?”
he looked over at you now, taking in your side profile before you looked over at him, “what do you mean?”
“do you ever think about us?” you asked, “like where we would be right now if we hadn’t gone and fucked it all.”
he licked his lips, “yeah, all the time.”
“me too.”
“this would probably be our engagement party,” he joked and you smiled, “can’t believe max beat us to it.”
“tell me about it,” you sighed, “i just had to give blake twenty bucks.”
he laughed softly, “no, but, seriously. i’m happy you’re here. i missed you.”
you swallowed, looking back into his eyes, “you missed me?”
“who wouldn’t?” he said, “even when we ended things and you moved and then i moved, i couldn’t help but feel like my life was missing something. like i was missing a piece to the puzzle, and… it was you.”
you were silent for a moment, processing everything that he had said before he cut your thinking process off, “i’m sorry, i didn’t-“
“lan,” you said, placing your hand on his, his rambling pausing as he mouth closed, “i feel the same. i was miserable in new york. i kept feeling like i had left something behind, like i abandoned it. and really, i had abandoned you.”
“you didn’t abandon me.”
“no, but it felt like it,” you said, “our whole lives it’s always been us against the world. and the last couple years it’s felt like its been the whole world against me. letting us go was one of the worst mistakes i ever made.”
“me too,” he said, reaching up and brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “i’m still madly in love with you. i don’t think i ever stopped being in love with you.”
“me either.” your voice was softer now, realizing how close he was and taking in all the things you loved about him. his dimples, the way the freckles and moles decorated his face. he was still yours. he always had been.
he leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. you smiled softly, letting him cup your face into his hand. something he always did that would turn you to putty in his hands. even now.
“can i take you out for breakfast tomorrow?”
you nodded, biting down on your lower lip to suppress the grin on your face, which was ultimately failing, “i’d love that.”
he finally pressed his lips to yours, you melting into him. he pulled you as close as he could get you, deepening the kiss as he tilted his head to the side.
“hey, lando! shit, sorry-“
you two broke apart at the sound of max’s voice, who had already turned around and walked away from the two of you. lando laughed softly, letting your head dip down onto his chest.
“well, now we don’t have to worry about telling him.”
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hellfire--cult · 10 months
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
WC: 9.7k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, talking about traumas, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt.
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: You see someone in a coffee shop, and you make the first move towards a new life.
A/N: I didn't think so many of you would enjoy this story! I hope everything lives up to your expectations, we're gonna go slow with this one, but don't think that Billy and Steve won't participate in this project of yours ;)
As always, all reblogs help, tagging it as well, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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PART 2
Your eyes slowly opened, feeling completely light headed as you tried to focus all around you.
You groaned in pain as you felt a sharp sting in the back of your head and you felt the light above you blinding you, sharply. 
Where the fuck were you?
“Is she awake?” You heard a female voice talking. You tried focusing again and saw Kali’s face over yours and she smiled at you when she saw you open your eyes at her.
“She’s awake!” Kali says and you see more faces trying to come in focus over you, making you whine by how dizzy that made you. You heard Kali protesting to the other people to give you some space as she fanned your face with her hand. 
“W-Where am I?” You asked and slowly but surely, your senses started sharpening again. Below you, there was definitely a bed. Then, all the voices around you were female. And then, you smelt cinnamon, the same one as your scented candle in your room.
“Your apartment. Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” You heard Nancy ask worriedly as she held a bottle of water in her hand. Honestly, you didn’t feel sick, just plain dizzy, as if you had ran out of oxygen for a few minutes. You held onto Kali’s arm and slowly sat up, centering yourself in the room as it began to get in focus for your eyes. 
“Jesus, what happened?” You asked as you grabbed onto Nancy’s bottle and Robin looked at Nancy worriedly and then back at you.
“You fainted.” 
“That much I know Robs.”
“In front of the stripper.” You spat the sip of water you just took, dizziness completely gone now, embarrassment and shame taking over your body as an anxious knot filled in the center of your gut. Barb stepped away from in front of you just in time before she got drenched and you started coughing wildly as Vickie patted your back.
“Oh god, now I am gonna be sick.” You say as nausea fills your stomach thanks to how humiliated you felt. You just remembered his brown eyes, looking at you, getting closer and closer to you. You winced as you tried to imagine his face when you simply blacked out in front of him. How pathetic it must have been for him. 
“Yeah, you’ve been out for thirty minutes.” You groaned loudly at Barb’s words and you looked at Nancy. You were so embarrassed for ruining her night, and even making all of them go through all of this. 
“Nance, I am so sorry. Words can’t describe how stupid I feel for this… I should have waited in the car, or in the bathroom, or away from the stage…” You hid your face in your hands as tears started to fill in your eyes. You felt so weak, so small because of this issue of yours. You made your friends end their fun night because of you.
“No, no! I shouldn’t have even considered a strip club knowing one of my bridesmaids doesn’t do good in a place like that!” Nancy replies, trying to make you realize she didn’t mind, but you were too far gone to notice that. How many more nights will you screw up in this way?
You remembered your prom night. Because of your shyness, you were always the target for bullying, and boys didn’t help at all with your case. They pulled your hair, got close to your face to tease you, grabbed your shoulders, caged you against the wall just to see you squeal in fear. 
So that night, you decided to try and be brave, only to be cornered inside the boy’s bathroom by three guys from the soccer team. They were telling you they could cure you if you’d only suck their dicks. That was all you needed. Thankfully, Kali smashed into the bathroom with a fire extinguisher and sprayed the men on the spot. She had seen you being pulled aside, and in your shock, you didn’t pull away, nor ran. 
That was a dangerous situation, but this one… This one was plainly humiliating. Embarrassing. Pathetic. 
The poor guy was just doing his job, and he had to see you crumble in front of him, just by his mere sight and touch. He was supposed to make you feel desired, and you cannot even imagine how he felt when you just fainted on him. Eddie. Poor Eddie.
“Hey, if he didn’t catch you in time, you would have hit your neck on the back of your chair.” You looked up to see Robin speaking to you.
“He helped me?”
“He even carried you to my car. Told me to drive safe and all.” Robin didn’t tell you, just to spare you from more embarrassment, but she explained your condition to Eddie and Joyce who were feeling responsible for what happened to you. The guy looked confused really, but didn’t press more than that and just waved all of you off. 
You were looking at Robin and then you looked at your arms. He had wrapped his arms around you, and lifted you in bridal style to carry you away. You sighed as you cursed at yourself for only being able to tolerate something like that when you were completely out and not conscious at all. 
You wanted to feel hands like that awake. You wanted to be able to enjoy a handsome man pampering you. You wanted to kiss a hot guy. You wanted and needed to be fucked with someone you felt attracted to, completely, not just barely. 
“Oh, sweetheart don’t cry… It really isn’t a big deal…” Kali wiped your tear away, one you didn’t even feel dropping, but she didn’t understand. It is a big deal. No one understands you, no one knows what this feels like. No one knows how you feel about this. No one gets it. 
You just wished you could be normal.
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It’s been a week since that night, and you tried. You were seriously trying. 
But you were now in your fourth coffee shop, parking your car, because the last three you’ve been at, the baristas, were young men. As soon as you entered the doors and saw the counter and the man behind it, you immediately left. 
After that night, it seemed as if your shyness and your nervousness only worsened just by how humiliating those events were. You couldn’t even turn on your camera at the team meetings of your workplace, which thankfully, it was 100% from home. You worked at a big company just as an administrator, and it paid well so you didn’t complain.
Now, on a friday, you look forward to the afternoon coffee, and you were happy to see that in your fourth coffee place, you found a woman at the front counter. You walked towards her as you looked into your wallet, looking for cash.
“Hi! What can I get you?” You heard her cheery voice and you looked up with a smile.
“Hello, um… Just a medium coffee with a bit of creamer please.” She nodded at you and you handed her the money so she could go and start preparing you coffee. She asked for your name and told you she would call you once it was done. You nodded at that and stepped aside, grabbing your phone to scroll through your instagram. 
You smiled when seeing the stories of Robin. She was posting about how boring her classes were at nursing school. Then you jumped over to Nancy’s which was a picture of her and Jonathan. Your smile faltered a little at that.
Jonathan was a handsome guy, and when you met him you didn’t feel that immense shyness you always felt. You never knew why, because deep inside you, you knew he was attractive. Yet, you could shake hands with him, and engage in conversation as if it were a natural thing for you to do. 
A deep voice came from next to you, and your eyes widened. You knew that voice. You recognized it, because last time it vibrated so close to your ear, it had settled in the deep of your stomach. You slowly side eyed, turning your head just a bit and you held in the gasp as you felt your body grow a cold sweat. 
“The usual, Princess.”
Oh fuck. Shit. Son of a bitch. 
You could see his hair tied up in a bun, some specks of unshaved beard covered his jaw, and the smell. You could smell the wooden cologne. Kind of leathery like. You turned your head as you felt your whole face turn a deep shade of red, and it almost felt like it moved all over your body. 
Your fingertips felt like they were sweating, and the knot in your stomach was moving all around. She took his order and you stepped aside trying to create some space between you two. You looked away so he wouldn’t recognize your face, because if he did, you were sure you would die. 
Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you were looking at the barista’s every move. She was preparing your coffee now, and his presence was just overwhelming you entirely. You wanted, no, NEEDED, to bolt right out of there. You could hear him yawn as he stood next to you, and your nerves were going insane right now. You heard your name being called out, snapping you out of your almost panic attack. 
“Thank you…” You said almost in a whisper as you took the coffee in your hands. You didn’t waste a single second, turning away and rushing out of the shop, taking a deep breath in of the clear oxygen. Now, you don’t really think it would be adequate to fill your body with caffeine when your nerves were this bad, but you already paid for it. 
Your heart was on the verge of exploding as you took many deep breaths in. You should apologize to him, or say thank you for helping your friends carry you out of the club, but here you were, running once again. Like you always did. 
But is it something you really want to do? Do you want to keep running?
You turned around and saw him through the window, taking slow sips of his coffee as he looked through his phone. His profile was already making you sweat by just how good looking he was, without even trying, with the afternoon sun hitting him in the right places. 
You wanted a normal life. You wanted to be able to feel attraction. You wanted to be kissed passionately. You wanted physical touch. You wanted to be normal, simply normal. 
So your feet moved. They guided you towards the doors again. They guided you into the shop. The girl looked at you with confusion over the counter and then you turned, going towards the booth where the man was seated at.
Eddie though, didn’t even acknowledge you. He was tired, too spent from last night's show. He was grabbed onto more than usual, and he had done several personal lap dances. Everything was good money of course, and he knew he sealed his fate into being the favorite one the moment he agreed on being physical with clients. No more than a kiss, or some holding, but that made him wanted. 
He didn’t mind really, but when the ladies would take advantage of that and touch him, when they knew they shouldn’t, drove him up a wall. He wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t bang one or two clients per week, sometimes for money, sometimes for his pleasure. This was all his doing. Joyce was against them doing that, but his colleagues, and himself, found out that their dicks can get them two thousand a night.
He didn’t even notice until a shadow casted over him, that made him look up, that you had sat right in front of him, making him frown in confusion because… You weren’t looking at him. You were looking downwards and he could almost see the steam coming out of one of your ears.
“Um–”
“I’M SORRY.” He jumped at the high pitched loud tone, almost a squeak, making him shake his coffee a little bit on his hand. 
“Jesus christ!” It was too late for loud noises, and much more for apologies he didn’t have a clue on why they were being said to him. And from a girl who wasn’t even looking at him. You were trembling, looking at your lap, because that apology came out way too embarrassing for your own good, and now you wanted nothing more but to crawl and disappear into thin air.
You stayed silent, trying to form words in your throat, but you could only feel the lump forming, and you cursed at yourself internally because you thought you were making progress by sitting in front of him, but now that you made a fool out of yourself, once again, you wanted to run away. But his voice stopped you.
“Holy shit, it’s you. The girl who fainted.”
Your blood went cold. Of course you would be remembered as that. Shit, everyone that night will remember you as the pathetic girl who fainted in the arms of a stripper. Your knuckles went white on your lap as you gripped them tightly, trying to fight the urge of running away. Your voice was still not found but there was no need because he kept talking.
“Are you alright? After that night?” He was asking for your wellbeing. This guy who didn’t even know you was asking if you were doing okay. You had to answer, you had to say something. Anything, just move your lips, make the air come out.
“Yes…” You almost mumbled it, but it was something. Eddie was squinting at you, his phone long forgotten on the table as he inspected you. He gave a small smirk, even if you weren’t looking at him, he just couldn’t help himself.
“And I thought your friend made up a horrible excuse for you that night, saying you were shy against men. I can see that she wasn’t lying.” Your body jerked up at that, your eyes widening and your head lifting up slightly, focused on his cup and he was finally able to see your face. You were beet red, making him smirk even more.
“Y-You were doing a great job! It’s m-my fault for trying to be strong and staying there!” Did you just say he was doing a great job? That formally? To a stripper? You winced at your words, ready to stand up and walk away but the sound of his laughter stopped you, and you wanted to look up, but you knew that it was going to make you freeze in place. 
“Thank you darling. I guess I appreciate the feedback.” He noticed how you jumped slightly at the nickname he gave you and he cleared his throat. “I guess I do, in fact, owe you an apology myself…”
At that, your eyebrow raised up, not looking at him, but staring at his phone this time, just trying to not meet his gaze at all. Why would he need to apologize to you?
“You didn’t do anything w-wrong!” You stuttered at the last words, but you were surprised to have found your voice quicker this time. 
“Well, Billy told me that there was a girl that needed her friend’s help to put a bill in his jeans. He told me what you looked like and what table you were at… You were my target that night.” You froze at those words, and the knots in your belly started tangling even more, not understanding why he would target you like that. “Shit, I didn’t know you actually had a problem with men, I mean… You were at a strip club, Sweets.” 
You couldn’t help the small huff that escaped your lips with the hint of a smile on your lips. It did sound quite stupid if he said it like that. He stared at your reactions, taking a sip out of his coffee and you could see the movement from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have some coffee in your hand as well. You took a sip too, feeling the warmth in your throat, soothing out the dryness this interaction provoked in you.
“It was… My best friend’s bachelorette party…” You explained to him and he was still not understanding where you were getting at, so he stayed silent for you to elaborate which made your nerves peak up again. “I-I didn’t want t-to bail on her.” You stuttered again as you talked about your feelings to a stranger who grinded on you a few nights back.
“Ah. I see. Next time you go to a place like that, wear a sign or something around your neck. You know, like the dogs that wear a harness that say ‘Nervous’.” Those words coming out of his mouth finally made you open your mouth as a giggle came out. You covered your mouth to stop your laughing but he caught you way off guard.
Eddie was still staring at you, a bit of pride in himself as he saw you laughing because of him, and he was glad you got to loosen up a little bit in his presence. He was curious, way too curious for his own good. Ever since he got this job with his friends, roommates even, all the women he met were straightforward, knowing what they wanted, hands roaming without fear all over his body. Yet you are here, embarrassed for laughing in front of him.
And your eyes still never met his.
“Why did you approach me darling?” 
Your giggles stopped immediately, and your eyes slightly widened as you put your hands around your coffee again. Your heart was simply exploding now, and the tips of your fingers were tapping on the cup, trying to steady a normal breathing pace in your lungs, in sync. You were being engulfed by flames, and it worsened each time you remembered that his gaze was on you.
But you didn’t want to feel like this, which irritated you even more.
“I-I want help.” At that, Eddie raised his eyebrow in question, but he rested against the booth, waiting for you to continue. You stayed silent for a minute, noticing that he was being patient with you, acknowledging the fact that this wasn’t easy for you to do, and the knot in your stomach detangled just a bit, loosening up enough for you to keep talking. “I want to be normal.”
Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You didn’t think you were normal just because you had this situation going on with yourself. He felt a little sad for you, and he couldn’t even imagine for how long you really struggled with this. 
“I want– I want to be able to have a normal life…” You pressed on and he was slowly understanding where you were getting at, and he looked at your cup, seeing your name written on it. 
“Right… And you want my help with what exactly?” 
“I want to fight this… this shyness… I don’t want to be nervous anymore. I am tired of making a scene or embarrassing myself because of it. I don’t want my friends to accommodate to my needs everytime we go out…” You didn’t even notice that you did not stutter once at those statements. Statements you were fully aware of yourself and you were fed up with. Eddie, obviously, noticed, raising his eyebrows up, losing themselves under the small fringe of his curls.
He was looking at you, wondering how this day turned completely on its axis and now you were sitting in front of him, shaking like a deer in front of some headlights, but still voicing your worries out. He was skeptical really, not knowing if this was all a farce to get in his pants for free. 
He wasn’t going to lie, he would fuck you for free. You were pretty, but you didn’t make an effort to show that off. Your clothes were bland, your make up was just some blush on your cheeks, and your hair was tied up in a ponytail. 
But if your intentions were to sleep with him, you wouldn’t have said what you said next.
“I w-will pay you! I just want to– be able to talk eye to eye…” His heart clenched slightly at that. You didn’t want him to teach you sexual stuff, or something of the sort… You just wanted to be able to talk to him properly, or any man for that matter. He gave a small nod, as if in thought, even if you weren’t even looking at him. 
His life has been very monotonous lately. For the past year to be exact. It was work, women, eat, sleep, shower, and do it all over again, every single day. He didn’t know if his roommates felt the same, but he knew that Steve started pottery classes, and then Billy had gotten the hobby of playing video games in his free time. 
Yet Eddie didn’t have the motivation to do anything. Until now. 
This was new, intriguing, and something that might ignite some fire in his everyday mundane life. So he reached his hand out towards you, and you looked at his ringed fingers with wide eyes, wondering what was going on.
“First things first. Presentation. I’m Eddie.” He said to you and his hand was waiting patiently. You gulped as you stared down at it, but then realization hit you. He was going to help you with this, and a flame of happiness ignited in you, slowly reaching out and putting your palm against his. You noticed the different size and the warmth of his skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
You gave him your name in a stutter and he grinned when he closed his hand on yours and saw you stiffen slightly, so he softened his grip, to then move your hands up and down gently in greeting. He pulled away, and you put your hand onto your lap as quickly as you could. Your whole body was ablaze, still looking at his phone to not clash eyes with him. 
“I-I can pay you–”
“Nothing.” Your eyes widened at that, raising an eyebrow up in question and you almost raised your head to look at him. “You look really shaken by this, and taking money from you doesn’t really sit right with me… And who knows, maybe this will blossom into an odd friendship.” 
Those words slipped out of his mouth before he could help it, and a slight pink tint formed on his cheeks. He really did crave for another friendship, already getting tired of just being with Billy and Steve. They are great, and they are almost like brothers, but maybe that was the thing. It was just those two, and no one else. 
You on the other hand turned a deep red at that, feeling your heart banging in your chest, not being able to take it anymore and you grab his phone, startling him completely and his eyes went wide at the action, but you didn’t move from the seat. You opened the dial without unlocking the phone, sliding up from the right corner of the screen and you pressed your cell phone number in there. 
You slid it back to him and stood up, not being able to handle the pressure of his stare any longer and he held onto his phone to look down at the number on it. His eyebrows centered in the middle with a frown and he raised his head up only to see you gone, turning his head around until he saw you rushing out of the shop through the window and into your car. 
He looked down at his screen, biting the inside of his cheek. He looked at his cup and saw the number of the barista under his name. She had tried many times to put her number down in his cup, but he never saved it on his phone. He looked down on your number, a scoff coming out of his lips.
“Hmm...”
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You had been screaming into your pillow for the past half hour. 
You cannot believe what you did two hours ago. You gave your number to a stripper. To a goddamn stripper. And you even asked for help with this issue of yours, but what if it came out wrongly? What if he thought you were asking him to help you sexually? It didn’t really feel like that but what if you didn’t read the air right?
It was an impulse. A goddamn impulse, but you were fine, it was all going to be okay, because you left your phone, and maybe he doesn’t even indulge in this stupidity of yours and move on, or maybe he deletes it by mistake and everything will be back as it was before.
You stopped screaming at that.
But you didn’t want to go back to before. That’s why you took that chance, and you have to look at the positive side of all of this. You sat in front of him, you talked to him, you shook his hand! You shook a handsome man’s hand! That’s improvement, a lot of it. Yes, if you put your mind to it, maybe you can change this stupid part of yourself.
You remembered his voice. Deep but with a hint of mischief behind it, and then those words that sounded hopeful yet sad. How he managed to say that the two of you could become friends in the meantime. You wondered what his daily life was like now, outside of his job. Who did he live with? How old is he? What is his favorite food?
You grabbed your phone as you turned to look up at your ceiling. You unlocked your phone to start scrolling through TikTok. You smiled at all the dog videos that showed up on your For You page and saved all those cooking and baking tips you found. You were startled from your trance of scrolling when your phone started ringing. The beautiful sound ‘The Shire’ from The Lord of the Rings filled your ears which helped a lot to the anxious feeling of talking on the phone. Who did that nowadays?
You looked at the number and it was not saved on your phone. Should you answer? Maybe it’s a telemarketer. Did you forget to pay a bill? Internet? No, you paid all of those. Your eyes widened in realization.
What if it’s him?
You were about to start trembling and in your fuss you pressed the Answer button and you almost cried out as you started hearing the other side of the phone. 
‘We are calling to ensure you have the best communication serv–’
And you hang up, fucking automatic calls. You let out a sigh of relief until you felt that it wasn’t that much of relief at the end of it. Something felt uneasy within you, like something was not right. A certain disappointment maybe? Did you want him to be the one calling you? But that would be too much for you to handle, definitely. 
You sighed, sitting up on the bed, scratching your head until a soft ‘Ting’ on your phone caught your attention. You looked down on the notifications and it was a message from an unknown number. Your eyes widened when you looked into the text preview.
‘I believe that in text form, you won’t be too shy to talk to me.’
Your heart got caught in your throat as you begin to cough desperately. You weren’t expecting something from him so soon, and it startled you completely. You held onto your chest as you read the text again, and again and again… You didn’t feel the blood flowing at the tip of your fingers, his image coming up in your head. His side profile of today, but then his face up close to you, in the middle of purple and pink lights in the club.
You clenched your eyes tightly, trying to move the images away. You took a deep breath in and unlocked your phone, heading over to the text. First, you saved his contact, because you might forget right? Then you put in a personal notification message because you just felt like it, but maybe if you do that, you can also put in a special ringtone as well? You didn’t do that for everyone but you were feeling like–
You were stalling. You were definitely stalling. 
You gulped as you went back to the screen, now with the title ‘E’ because you didn’t want to receive a message from him when you were with your friends. They knew his name, so might as well tell them it’s Eleanor from work. 
You started typing ‘Hi’ but he didn’t start with hello, so you erased that. Maybe a ‘how are you’ or ‘how has your day been going’ but that really doesn’t sound right either, he didn’t ask you that at all. You deleted it again and were about to type in again until you saw the three dots that signaled you that he was typing.
‘Even on text? Damn, I wonder how many texts you just wrote and deleted.’
He caught you, red handed, and you took a deep breath in, pushing your embarrassment away as you started typing.
‘Not many.’ You were already biting the skin on the side of your left thumb thanks to your pumping heart, which only increased its beats every time you saw the three dots from his side.
‘Really? I bet you wrote ‘Hey handsome’ and deleted it, right?’
You giggled at that, feeling your nerves loosen up a bit at his cheekiness and you typed once more.
‘Oh, sure, whatever strokes your ego.’
‘That hurt princess.’ 
Your breath hitched at the endearment. 
‘You’ll survive.’
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‘Black is not a color.’
‘Not you too with that bullshit. 🙄’
‘But it’s not, it’s a shade, as well as white!’
‘It’s my favorite color, a color, and that’s final.’
You giggled at the banter you were creating with Eddie over some texts. It’s been a week since you saw him and it’s been a week since you both started texting each other. They’re not long conversations really, just an hour a day or less, and it always starts with Eddie asking you something about yourself.
On Monday, it was your work. He made a lot of funny comments about how he is an accountant when you knew what his job actually is. Then Tuesday was about your favorite animal, in which you said Dog and he said bats. He told you he actually has a swarm of bats tattooed on his right forearm. Then food on wednesday, and favorite drink on thursday.
Today was about your favorite colors. 
Yours was red, sometimes purple, while Eddie claims that his favorite color is black. You were having fun messing with him, smiling at the phone as the nerves in your belly were kept to a minimum. You were surprised how loose you got when you received his texts, and it was almost as if you were excited when they did. 
“Why are you so smiley?” You blinked and looked up, completely forgetting you were having coffee with Robin at the Starbucks near your apartment complex. Robin actually got an apartment three floors down from yours and you were happy that you have a close friend as a neighbor. 
“Oh, um… El sent me a meme.” You lie, feeling your chest compress at it. You didn’t want to lie to your friends, but you were doing this behind their backs because you didn’t need the encouragement. You wanted to do this on your own, without the need of your friends overprotecting you as if you were a piece of paper that might rip apart at any comment a man does to you.
“Right…” She sipped on her coffee as another notification made you look down at the screen, and you went pale at what you saw. It was a message from Eddie, yes, but the anxiety started filling your stomach as you read what he wrote to you.
‘We should hang out this weekend. Test the waters.’
He was asking you out. Well not asking you out, more like hang out, as friends, but, oh no. You were feeling nauseous, the memory of his face, and his stomach showing coming up in your mind. You don’t think you will be able to tolerate it, and you don’t even know if you can trust this guy. You haven’t told your friends about Eddie, and if you went missing or something–
“IT’S EDDIE.” You blurted out, startling Robin, your panic winning completely over you. She spat the coffee, coughing loudly as she punched her chest a few times, trying to recover herself. You on the other hand were slightly panting from the anxiety that was eating you up, but the need to feel protected won you over. 
“What!?” 
“I AM TALKING WITH EDDIE.” You said again loudly, making various customers turn their heads at the commotion and Robin made you lower your voice with a big ‘shh’ and a hand movement. 
“Eddie… Who the fuck is Eddi– Oh, WHAT?!” Now the customers turned their heads at Robin’s explosion. You were clutching your phone to your chest and you could feel your eyes beginning to heat up from the tears that were threatening to leave them. 
“I know, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to lie, but-but–” 
“Why are you talking to–” Robin looked around and bent over a little closer to whisper to you. “To the stripper?! Are you nuts?!”
“I mean– I might? I don’t know? I–” You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes as Robin sighed in front of you. “I just need help… Being normal…” Robin’s eyes turned those into sad ones as she looked up at you. She stood up, putting her hand out for you to take.
“Tell me all about it while we head back to your place.”
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“Yep, you are definitely crazy.”
You were pacing back and forth while Robin watched you from the couch, looking down at all the texts you’ve sent Eddie. But even if she did call you crazy, your friend was proud of you because she never thought you would tell a man about your favorite things. She also didn’t expect this Eddie guy to actually be gentle with you, never crossing a line, never flirting with you.
She wondered if his intentions were pure and when you told him he didn’t accept the money, Robin was baffled. Now, the true reason as to why you had told her about this, is because of his last message. He didn’t pressure you into saying yes, so that was a green flag, and it also lets someone know who you were with last in case the worst case scenario happens.
“I know I am crazy Robin, I fucking know, it was an impulse–”
“But I think it’s working… I mean, maybe he can actually figure out what’s going on in that head of yours.” You gulped at that and continued pacing. Nothing traumatic with men happened to you, the absence of your father and the multiple cheating on your mother helped, but it didn’t explain the reason as to why it was almost as if you were terrified of men. Attractive men at that. 
You had of course the bullying at primary school, and then all the way to high school, but you cannot really pinpoint anything too cruel. 
“Robin, I– I don’t even know him. What if he makes a move on me?” You would probably pass out and he would have access to do whatever. You really don’t know the guy, even if he seems trustworthy on text messages, that’s just what they are. Text messages. He could be lying, he could be pretending to be something he is not, and you can’t read his face or his movements. Not that you would if you were in person either, because you can’t fucking look at him.
“I don’t think– Look, invite him to the bar three blocks down, just the two of you, and don’t make a fuss about it. He seems cool, and he never overstepped from what I’ve seen… Nothing with a double meaning either.” She was trying to reassure you, to help you with it. For some reason Robin had a feeling that you didn’t cross paths with the stripper again just out of pure coincidence. She was a fair believer of fate, and karma. 
“I– I mean it is public, a bar.” She gave you a nod and handed you the phone. You took it into your trembling fingers, looking down at the messages.
“Yes, and you have me as your emergency contact. You just have to press the lock button 5 times and I know where to get you.” That statement actually calms you a lot. And the fact that you would be at a bar three blocks away from home was also bringing you relief. “Remember, this is not a date… He is not asking you out romantically.”
“Right, I know that, as a friend.” You replied to her, giving Robin a nod as you felt another uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t describe once more. You looked down at your phone, and licked your lips, gulping loudly as you typed in your response.
‘Does tomorrow at 6, the bar between Monroe ST. and Chadwick sound good to you?’
You almost threw the phone towards Robin, feeling yourself cringe at the risky message you just sent, but if you truly think hard about it, he was the one who sent it first. Robin caught your phone as it trembled in your hand. She heard a popping sound and looked down at the screen, a smirk breaking on her lips.
“Sounds perfect, and I will give you a whole presentation on why Black is indeed a color."
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You were trying to calm your nerves as you looked at the watch, every now and then on your phone. It’s already 6:05 PM and he didn’t show. It’s only five minutes late, but maybe he bailed?
But he was the one who asked you, why would he bail? But maybe he regretted it? Oh god, did he have to work today? You invited him without even asking and maybe he has a full night and you didn’t even think of–
“Parking around here is a pain in the ass Princess.” You heard his voice as he passed by you, sitting at the seat of the booth in front of you. You felt your body tensing up, and you were now self conscious of your clothes. But it wasn’t a date, so you dressed normally, and you applied a bit of mascara. You weren’t good at doing your own makeup so you settled for the simplest of things, because if you tried to do something, it would be worse than nothing.
Your eyes immediately drifted to the napkin holder on the side as you tried to gather up courage to talk to him. He sighed and put his phone on the table, right in front of him, which made your gaze drive to that. He did it so that he could see your face instead of your profile, taking note that last time you were together, your eyes didn’t leave his phone.
From your point of view you could see his shirt, which was a black simple t-shirt with an Iron Maiden illustration on it. You wanted to know what he looked like right now, and given from what you could smell of his perfume, he must look nice. 
“Sweets, I need you to cooperate with me here. We talked all week on the phone, I assure you it’s no different than using your voice.” You blinked once and maybe that was the trick. You just have to imagine this is just texting, as if you were reading your messages out loud.
“I-I know that…” The curiosity was killing you at this point, but you wanted to make sure of something first. “Do you work tonight? I didn’t even ask you before…” He was surprised at your question, and he smirked slightly, nodding. Once he realized you still weren’t looking at him, he sighed as he opened his mouth again.
“Yeah, but not till 10 PM. Jason and Billy are on the early shift today.” He explained to you and that is actually a lot of time to talk to him. You didn’t think you would stand being with him, looking at his phone for more than an hour. You felt another presence approaching and you looked up to your side, seeing the waitress coming up.
“Ready to order?” She gave you a small smile and you nodded.
“A beer, please.” She put it down and turned to Eddie, her smile widening as you watched her interact with him. He must really look nice if this woman was smiling like that. Why can't you be like her? Why do you have to be so nervous about it all? You wanted to smile at a cute boy, not barf on him or pass out on the spot.
“Same as her.” Was his short reply. Your gaze went back down towards his phone as the waitress retreated to get your drinks. You wondered how he looked at her. Did he smile? Did he wink? Did he keep a serious face on? “Didn’t take you to be a beer kind of girl.”
“Oh, well, it’s really my drink of choice, but a sweet drink I like too sometimes.” You replied, keeping your gaze on his phone, imagining that everytime he talked to you, a small ‘Ting’ of a notification sounded in your ears.
“I like beer too, but I am more into the bitter kind of stuff.” He replied to you and you now burnt all over because you didn’t know how to keep the conversation flowing. Gladly, the waitress returned quickly with the two bottles of beer opened and ready to drink. You grabbed yours and saw Eddie’s hand wrapping around his own bottle, leaning it towards you. You gulped and clinked your bottle to his.
“To cure your shyness sweetheart.” 
You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips at that small sweet touch. Giving a cheer for you, even in the short lapse of knowing each other, made your heart calm down just a tiny bit as you took your first sip of the bottle. Eddie caught on the smile you gave and was about to talk when your phone rang.
You looked at the caller and saw it was Robin. Your eyes widened, realizing you didn’t tell her you were already with Eddie. It was kind of a safe protocol, tell her you arrived, tell her he arrived, and keep her updated if you remembered to do so. You had sent her your live location as well, keeping you safe at all times. You declined the call and immediately sent her a message to tell her you were with Eddie already and that everything seemed ok.
Eddie though, was wide eyed, staring at you.
“Was that the flute of The Shire?”
You blinked at your phone and you almost looked up thanks to your surprise. He liked The Lord of The Rings? You weren’t a super fan of it, but the soundtrack had captivated you since you were a kid. 
“I, yes–”
“Holy shit… Look, I only got my little brother to talk this with, and– I just never expected you to like something like that.” He replied, a wide grin on his face. You gulped, a blush on your cheeks. So he has a brother, another small detail of his life.
“I could say the same about you…” He chuckled at that, nodding at the thought.
“Never saw a Stripper being a total nerd?” He replied and you snorted at that, followed by a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He was thinking, wondering of a way to get you to look at him. “Is it your favorite movie Saga?”
“Oh, um… No, not really. Harry Potter is my favorite.” He was surprised at that answer, taking a sip of his beer, tapping his finger on the table. He didn’t know much about it, but he never really took the time to watch the movies chronologically. He had an idea of the main story, of course, but never knew the details.
“I like the fifth movie, the one with the hippogriff.” He said and your eyebrows pulled to the center in a frown at that.
“That’s the third movie…” You replied at that and he scratched his head, thinking hard as he tried to remember the small details.
“Really? Then wait, the fifth one is not the one with the snake right?” He tried again and you felt something in your belly, something like annoyance but not quite. 
“You never watched them correctly?” He shrugged at that.
“Never found the time, or cared enough to do so… Plus, the scenery is nothing like The Lord of the Rings.” And Eddie’s eyes immediately widened, his voice gone, and his hand clenching against the bottle in his hand.
“Okay, first of all, the scenery is fucking amazing, the shots are beautiful and they got them in real places and added CGI on them. Then, the soundtrack I admit, is nothing like The Lord of the Rings, but you can’t deny that all of the music in the movies are nostalgic and majestic. Also, the character designs are incredible, outfit wise and then we have all the spells! Everything is magical from the first movie to the last!” You replied to him with exasperation. You knew about Harry Potter, and you weren’t going to let him talk about your favorite thing like that.
“Ah, yes, I am not shaming it sweets, I just prefer the latter. Plus, I never understood that part of the movie where the bad guy returns from a diary? I mean…” He continued, trying to not show his surprise to you so you wouldn’t stop. You took another sip and continued talking.
“That would be the second movie, and it was a figment of a memory implanted in the diary. The diary was part of Voldemort’s soul, a horrocrux which helped him be sort of immortal.” You pressed on, throwing your knowledge at him. 
“Immortal?”
“He has seven horrocruxes in total, so he split his soul in seven parts. You had to destroy all seven in order to finally be able to kill him properly. You have to watch all of the movies in order to understand all of this! Or read all of the books!” You finished your blabbering with almost a pant.
“Sweets.”
“What?” You scoffed out and he chuckled, smiling at you.
“You’ve been talking to me, looking at me in the face, since you started ranting about Harry Potter.”
You froze, realizing that your eyes were looking into his brown ones. His hair was down, over his shoulders, the stubble you saw that day on his chin was gone, freshly shaved, and over his shirt he had a black leather jacket on. His dimples were showing as he smiled at you, and the knot in the stomach was there, it definitely was, urging you to run away.
But it didn’t urge you to look away. 
He squinted slightly as he inspected you. You weren’t looking away, which is a good sign, but you stopped talking all together. He was thinking, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he thought.
“What’s your favorite movie? Not Saga, movie.” He asked and you slightly snapped out of your trance, absorbing the way his mouth moved as he talked to you.
“T-Titanic.” He rolled his eyes at that and you slumped slightly as an angry frown came to your eyebrows again.
“Really? That cliché sweetheart?” Your mouth almost hung open at his words, feeling offended by him saying that about your favorite film.
“It’s a fucking masterpiece!” You replied to him and he sighed, leaning on the table as he took a sip of his beer again, and you followed afterwards to wet your dry throat.
“Indulge me, how is that romantic movie a masterpiece?”
“Well, I am noticing you are not the romantic type of guy, but looking past that, the scenes? The music and ambience are outstanding, and for it being a movie of 1997, it was so amazingly done! Not to mention that James Cameron was the first ever person to get clear images of the actual wreckage.” You replied, taking another sip and he was still looking at you.
He lied to you. He also thought Titanic was a masterpiece. But he came to realize something, but he needed to test something else first, just to make sure that his suspicions were correct.
“So you just said I am not the romantic type of guy… Does that mean you are? I mean, I want to understand right now, but with this thing you got going on… Did you ever… do anything?” He asked you, actually curious about it and you felt the knot in the stomach form once more, the lump in your throat suddenly blocking your voice and you immediately looked down towards his phone again, a deep crimson covering your cheeks.
“It’s… Not that I am a virgin– I don’t…” And Eddie’s head almost made a ‘ding’ sound. It had clicked the moment you stared into his eyes without noticing and you talked about something you liked. 
“I know what’s going on.” He softly muttered, very low but you could hear it, your eyebrows frowning at that. “Also, I didn’t bring my powerpoint presentation, sorry about that, but Black is a color, I mean, I am wearing it all right now.” He was at this again? You looked up at him, completely wide eyed, not believing he was still adamant about black being an actual color.
“Seriously Eddie, you can google it and it will tell you it’s a shade! I took art lessons in school, and the professor was always very strict on not calling white and black colors!” You were looking at him again. He nodded in thought and tapped the table, slumping back against the booth. He was staring at you, deep in his own mind, and you suddenly grew nervous at his stare. “What?”
“I know what’s happening here, in your mind that is.” You blinked in surprise at that, the statement taking you completely off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever you are confident about something you know, you have no trouble talking to me. You have no trouble talking to me about things you are passionate about, or have experience in.” 
You were dumbfounded. You never thought of something like that happening to you, but now some things clicked inside your head. You didn’t talk with your male coworkers, no… But when a new hire would enter the company and you had to train them? You had no problem. Then when meeting Jonathan, he was attractive, yes… But… you were excited that Nancy is happy with him.
“Holy shit…” You muttered with wide eyes and he nodded at you with a small smile appearing in his lips to then fade away.
“Yeah… But it means that your confidence level is low. Like, confidence in yourself. That’s why you can barely talk sometimes, or you don’t look up to meet my gaze, or well… looked up, past tense.” He smiled at you, and it made your cheeks flush, but still your head was spiraling at his words. 
You weren’t confident in yourself?
“You mean… like my self-esteem?” You asked, and he sighed, giving you a small nod which made your stomach sink.
“I don’t know about your past, and honestly you don’t have to tell me. But maybe we can do some baby steps…” 
“Baby steps?” He took a sip of his beer and nodded, leaning on the table as he put his hand out to start counting with his fingers.
“First, why don’t you wear makeup? Is it because you are allergic or…?” 
“Uh, no… I’m not very good at it.”
“Have you tried tutorials?” You shook your head, a small feeling of shame coming up your throat. “Okay, so that’s step one. Watch some, practice. I am not saying you need makeup, but it helps a lot with your ego. Trust me, when I put on eyeliner I feel like I can conquer the world.” He says with a chuckle and you tilt your head with curiosity pricking at the tip of your tongue.
“You wear makeup?”
“Hell yeah, makes me look pretty.” He smiles at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. You couldn’t believe this man in front of you had a job like the one he has. “Step two, your clothes too.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You say with an offended tone and he just stares at you.
“Seriously? You wear bland colors. Put a little bit of sparkle in it, something you might feel sexy in, or pretty, but you have to feel it. You don’t dress for others, only for yourself.” You tried to remember your closet, and you hated to admit he was right. All your shirts were simple, none of them were tank tops, none of them had nice cuts on the cleavage, or were tight… Your jeans were all the same, and you never wore dresses or skirts, no matter if you really wanted to.
You just never thought you’d look good in them.
Oh fuck… He actually might have found the problem. 
“Third, be confident in your voice. We’re going to slowly work on it, but I think you are headed in the right direction, just not quite.” He replied to you and he watched how your face contorted into confused frowns and then understanding ones as if you were realizing so many things in your head. 
“You mean to be able to, for example… Ask things?” He pointed a finger at you with a smile to his face.
“And there’s the first one. Yes… Till now I was the one engaging in conversations, being in text form or here. I was the one asking you all the questions.” You gave him a nod in understanding, feeling the knot in the stomach not so strongly as before. He is attractive, yes, but he is not making moves, or comments, or anything to put you in a nervous state. The nervousness was still there, and you still struggled to keep eye to eye contact, but you were facing him.
“I see… So, I gotta go shopping then?” You say with a small smile on your face and he chuckles at you, nodding, taking a sip of his beer.
“Remember, dress for you. Not for the other people around you. If you feel confident in it, then it’s all that matters. By confident, I don’t necessarily mean comfortable, but that can also help.” You were staring at him as if you had found a personal god of some sort. This man, this male stripper, was giving you better advice than any therapist ever gave you, than your FRIENDS ever gave you in fact. 
You were grateful for them, but they never understood that you wanted to get better. Instead, they always made sure to make you comfortable whenever you all went out together, always protected you when men approached your group, but never once helped you make the leap of getting better, of trying to be normal like them. They just accepted you the way you are.
But you didn’t want to be accepted like this. Not anymore.
“What is your favorite movie?” You asked him, and his eyes slightly widened at that, surprised by the change of conversation, but it seems you caught on in what you had to do. He smiled and laid back on the booth.
“Okay, what do you think my favorite movie is? Just by looking at me.” He says, flipping his hair over his shoulder and you giggled, as you looked at him. The nerves in your belly started forming again as you scanned his features, but you were trying to fight against it, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.
You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to judge him. But he was asking you himself, right? And if you say something wrong it can be directed as a joke, but maybe he doesn’t like it? Maybe he thinks you are throwing yourself on him? WHat if you say something insinuating to him and you didn’t realize it? What would he say–
“You’re thinking too much about it. Stop.” He was looking at you, and you didn’t even notice you went into a sort of trance, trying to think of the words to say. You shook your head, body filling you up in flames, so before you went into a panic, he continued talking. “Just say the first thing that comes to your head. I am not a person that easily gets offended, sweetheart.”
Those words actually made your nerves settle somewhat, and you took a deep breath in to try to make your heart do the same. You inspected him again and he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smirk.
“You look like a… The Notebook fan.” You joked, his eyes going wide, a laugh escaping his lips and you couldn’t help but giggle with him, his laugh being contagious, and the tips of your fingers began to feel warmth once again.
“Oh my god, how did you catch me? Am I that obvious?”
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End of part 2
A/N: I promise that... things are just gonna heat up from here on out. This was just to prepare you guys for it. (Billy and Steve will make an appearance soon.) I might change the rating on here to Mature, so if you don't have it enabled, please do.
Taglist is open, comment if you want in or send me an ask ;)
Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @sillypurplemurple @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @bibieddiesgf @justheretostan
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thoughtsforsoob · 2 months
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ways he shows he loves you - stray kids
a/n: I want to write more to stray kids so here you go! I know I have a bunch of request at the moment and while I do plan on getting to them, I have to allow myself some freedom to create what I want as well! please enjoy and as always, requests are open and so is my 200 event!! (omg im past 300 now and I am so incredibly grateful! thank you so freaking much!)
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bang chan - taking you home
I feel like chan considers taking you home as a huge step in your relationship, since ehe seems to love home so much.
he has a nice connection with his family so for you to go meet them means he's basically already planning the wedding
he likes to take you to places he remembers from when he was little (which are probably not too many places because he was just a little guy when he started training)
he also loves to make plans for you, his mom and his sisters hang out together
"you three go out! im paying for girls day"
he enjoys seeing pictures of his favorite people out, having fun together and getting along
the only thing he doesn't enjoy 100% is the teasing that collectively happens between you and his siblings against him but he doesn't;t mind it in the end because it just means you're comfortable with them and vice versa
and when he watches you and berry meeting for the first time...again...wedding bells are going off in his head
minho - supporting your hobbies
I don't see him as someone who is veery comfortable with just saying I love you all the time so he pressers to show it instead of say it
his way of doing so is by getting interested in your hobbies and most likely participating in them
lets just say you're a big fan of collection photo cards and trading! along with that, you also like to make bracelets for concerts! (lmao so cliche but this is what I can explain best! feel free to insert your own interests during the following!)
he definitely buys you albums all the time and when you don't pull him from a stray kids album, he rolls his eyes and keeps buying more until you pull him
he also loves watching you pack trades so he goes stationary shopping with you and buys you the cutest packing materials
he even packs a few trades for you and sneaks in a bunch of extra stickers and other freebies
he will also partake in bracelet making every time you attend a concert!
he loves sitting at the table, making bracelets with pretty beads (he insists on buying you the fancy glass beads for this project), watching a drama and eating snacks.
just seeing you happy and in your element and being able to support it is how he shows his love.
changbin - planning dates
idk about you guys but I feel like guys always leave it to their girlfriend to plan dates and come up with date ideas all the time
changbin is the exception
he knows all of the spots in the city and wants to take you to all of them eventually
he has a running list in a little journal he purchased when he first met you and started going on dates with you
he writes down the names of places he wants to take you to and crosses them out in highlighter when you eventually go so you can still see what he'd written down
he plans trips that vary anywhere from 2 weeks in LA to a evening picnic by the river
his favorite are "spontaneous dates" (in quotation marks because to him, no date is really spontaneous. he always puts some work into it, even if it's a late night run to the convenience store or a trip to the mall)
he's always navigating and making sure everything is perfect
his favorite part of the date is when you praise him for being so thoughtful and creative
he is so happy that he's impressing you and making you happy
he promises to himself that even when you both are old and grey, he's still going to sweet you off your feet with his amazing date ideas
hyunjin - remembers everything you tell him
(no bc...when people remember details about me I feel so happy)
anyways, he is such a good listener and pays attention to detail
whenever you mention something in passing, he makes a note of it mentally or if he knows he'll forget, he will write is down in his notes app
one example of this is during one exam season
2 weeks ago, you had told him bout your finals schedule and when it would start
on the first day, right at 6am he shows up with your favorite coffee order (or anything else if you don't drink coffee) and your favorite breakfast! along with a care package for the rest of finals!
the care package includes: two hoodies of his, you favorite candies, chips, ramyeon, and a couple other things he knew you'd find useful
he remember you telling him you had to get up at that hour to start getting ready for your 8am calc final
when he shows you, you damn near cry because of his thoughtfulness
he eats breakfast with you and makes sure your fueled up and able to focus on your test so you can ace it
the way he also thinks about you when he's out doing things like shopping
Oh I brought you back some eggs because I remember you said you didn't have anymore. also, this new toner because I noticed yours was running low last time I stayed the night."
jisung - never letting you pay
his love language is essentially paying for everything he can for you
if you deny him and tell him you're going to pay, just the thought of you doing something he is more than willing to do for yo has smoke coming out of his eyes like a cartoon character
oh boy and when you actually beat him and pay, he is red in the face
"sungie, I just paid for two coffee's. why are you all red like that?"
"I could've paid! now you have to let me pay for the next 100 things we get together!"
you roll his eyes at him when he makes these silly compromises with you and just rolls with it
for him, it's not that he thinks you can't pay for yourself because ehe knows you are more than capable
if anything, he's proud that his baby is an independent person and can take care of themselves
the reason he does it because he wants you to save your money and spend it on things for you and he wants to take care of you this being the best way he knows how
oh my god...
god forbid you buy him any gifts
he's all flustered and whining about how you shouldn't "waste your money" on him
after talking with him, he lets you pay sometimes but it's rare
felix - matching jewelry
it's all fun and games until you both get exposed...
before we go there, let's talk about how this started
for your first anniversary, Felix wanted to give you something special but had no ides what it should be
he was scrolling through TikTok one night and he came across a repost from you and it gave him the perfect idea
you reposed a couples post about a necklace with the bf's initial on it and he immediately got one made
you better believe hat we went to a famous custom designer and everything to get this made just the way he knew you'd love it
you gives it to you on your anniversary and to your surprise, not only do you have a "f" on your necklace, he get's a matching necklace with your initial on it...
he can't wear it out much but he always put's it on in private
one day...little sunshine over here has to leave to the airport with the group for an overseas concert and he forgets to take off the damn necklace...
"WHO IS (y/i)?" stays are going wild online and trying to find out who it is
from now on, Felix is more careful but now everyone knows his secret :0
seungmin - bring affectionate in front of others
look, this boy is not very affectionate, much less in front of other people
he's a very 'behind closed doors' type of person
when it comes to you though...he's not afraid to show his affection
the first time you noticed it was when he first invited you to meet his member at the dorm for dinner and movie night
he picked you up and brought you inside
you greet all of the members but right afterwards, he immediately just starts to cling to you
he has a hand on your thigh during dinner and during some shot periods, he's actually straight up holding your hand while eating
the boys look at him like he's finally gone insane and you're looking at him with such a confused expression
finally, jeongin of all people, breaks the silence
"hyung? I know you like (y/n) a lot but you're not letting her eat by holding her hand."
his face goes red because he's been caught and he lets go of your hand, putting a low apology to you
when the movie portion of the night comes around, he insists on your sitting right on his lap but if you decline, he is sitting so close next to you that he's literally going to merge into your body
jeongin - sharing clothing/shopping with you
(cw: I know not everyone feels comfy with the idea of sharing clothes for whatever reason and it's totally valid so I made two different options here!)
as we all know, jeongin loves fashion and anything that has to do with it
it's only natural that he wants to involve you into his hobby!
he wants to dress you up all the time!
sometimes, he'll drag you to his room and start to pick items from his closet to replace what you're already wearing...
you have to glare at him so he won't change your whole outfit
he also loves to take you shopping!
he walks into every store with you and asks your opinion on everything because he knows you're actually the one wearing it so you have to like these items too!
shopping can be a very stressful and traumatic experience for some people (ME!)
he understands if this is the case for you and tries his best to give you all the time you need and not overwhelm you with trying too many things on at once and not showing you 101 options all at once
if you don't like how something fits, he will never pressure you to show him anyway
he also never pressures you to go shopping if you're not in the correct headspace for it
there is always assurance from him that no matter what, he loves the way you look in clothes you both pick together!
he also loves to take ootd pics of you and he lets you take his!
he def never pressures you to do this either if you don't wanna
his soft launch of you is a pick of your latest ootd together but your face has a cute little fox sticker over it :D
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xamag-draws · 10 days
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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hoomandoescosplay · 2 months
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Static | Alastor x Reader Oneshot
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“Alastor, the radio demon, is supposedly quite a popular name in Hell. So much so that his name had somehow ventured into the human world.”
“Some people have even tried to summon the demon by giving him offerings hoping he’d show himself to them and grant them powers beyond their own capabilities.”
My friend Naomi explains to me while we walk to our class. “Don’t tell me you’ve tried to summon him.” I sigh. “You usually don’t bring this kind of stuff up before you’ve tried it.”
She’s always been into magic and witchcraft. I honestly don’t understand any of it but she loves talking to me about it.
I definitely believe that kind of stuff exists in the world but it can be so confusing, especially when people make stuff up all the time.
Naomi has said she’s experienced many phenomenons before but she has quite a creative mind.
Naomi grins as she nods her head. “Of course I’ve tried it! Would you like to give it a try? I have the instructions written down in one of my spellbooks.” She starts to rummage around in her backpack.
“It shouldn’t take long. We can do it after school gets out today.” My eyes go wide as I pull her arm stopping us from walking.
“Are you crazy? Absolutely not. No way do I want to try that.” Naomi chuckles. “You really need to learn to have some fun.”
She continues, “There’s no harm in calling out a demon and asking for powers. Besides, you don’t think he’ll actually show up do you?”
I just stare at her. She’s crazy, she has to be crazy. “No harm?” I echo bewildered. I let out a strained laugh. “I honestly don’t even know how to respond to what you just said.”
Naomi shrugs. “The worst thing that can happen is the summoning doesn’t work and your day proceeds as normal. That’s what I call ‘no harm’.” Her smile widens.
“And,” she adds. “It’s our senior year. We have to do something fun and mysterious.” I sigh again. “I guess you’re right.” I readjust my backpack as I take a second to think. “Alright, let’s do it.”
Naomi squeals with delight. “Oh! You’re not going to regret it, not one bit! This is going to be amazing, just you wait and see!” She pulls a small leather bound book out of her backpack.
“Here we are. ‘How to summon demons 101.’ Let’s see what we need…” Naomi starts to scan through a few of the book’s pages.
I see other students look at us as they walk past and I can feel my face heat up. “Maybe we should look at your book after school.” I suggest quietly.
Naomi’s eyebrows raise as she looks up at me. “Yeah… I guess that would be for the best. This isn’t exactly the type of thing you can just pull out of your backpack and flip through in the middle of a hallway without drawing attention to yourself.”
She quickly puts her book back away and we continue to walk to our class.
A few minutes later, we arrive at our class and quickly shuffle into our seats. I look over at Naomi and she’s grinning at me before turning back to face the front of the room.
The teacher quickly walks into the classroom, and class begins. The class progresses as it normally would. The teacher gives the lesson and asks a few questions here and there.
A few times, I catch Naomi looking in my direction, likely waiting until the end of class to start the summoning.
The clock on the wall slowly creeps closer to the end of class. The other students gradually lose interest in the lecture and start to daydream as the teacher keeps lecturing on.
After a few more minutes of lecturing, the teacher pauses. “That’s all the time we have for today. I’d like to end the day with a reminder of our next assignment and the due date for the project we’ve been working on all week.”
I can see Naomi jittering in her seat as we wait to be dismissed and I roll my eyes with a small smile.
The teacher makes a few more announcements before the bell rings. The class quickly rises to their feet and most students start to shuffle for the door.
As I try to make my way to the door, I bump into Naomi who eagerly grabs onto my arm in a tight grip. “Let’s go, you ready?”
I nod. “As ready as I can be.” Naomi squeals once more. “Yes, that’s the spirit!” She starts to pull me out of the classroom, down the hallway and out the front of the school.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
We get to Naomi’s house after a short walk and as we walk in she checks to make sure her parents aren’t home.
“Quick, let’s go up to my room.” Naomi’s eyes dart back and forth as she leads me up the stairs and into her bedroom.
Naomi quickly shuts the door behind me and I can hear her quietly lock the door. She quickly heads over to her bed, places her backpack on it, and pulls out her spellbook.
Naomi quickly flips through the pages as she starts listing off some of the items needed. “Okay… Here’s what we need: a black candle, a glass of water, a salt circle, and the words spoken in the summoning.”
I nod as I walk towards her bed to place my backpack down as well. “Can I see?” I ask, trying to take a peek at her book.
Naomi chuckles and shakes her head. “Not now. As soon as everything is set-up, I’ll let you get a glance.” She closes her book fast.
“Now help me grab some supplies from the closet. I only have one candle.” Naomi walks over to the closet as she waits for me to join her.
I immediately get a strange feeling but shrug it off and walk towards her.
The two of us enter the closet and start grabbing the supplies needed for the candle and the salt circle.
Naomi grabs the candle and a lighter, as well as a small glass for the water while I grab a large bag of salt that’s sitting on the top shelf of the closet.
I make sure to hold the bag of salt carefully so that it doesn’t spill. I then join Naomi back in the middle of the room and she starts to pour the salt into a near perfect circle around the middle of the ground.
As she pours the salt, I can see Naomi make sure that every inch of the circle is covered.
At the very center of the circle, she places the candle and the glass of water. “What’s the glass of water for?” I ask curiously.
“It’s the vessel that holds the demon’s spirit which allows him to take a physical form.” Naomi’s eyes light up as she explains this to you.
I begin to ask another question but she cuts me off. “Oh! I forgot we also need a knife. I’ll be right back.” She runs out of the room as I process what she said. “A knife? Hmm that’s weird.” I mumble.
I have a quiet moment to myself while Naomi is out of the room. I take this moment to walk towards her book and flip through the pages quickly.
The last few cover the ritual we were planning on doing and my eyes widen when I realize none of the materials we collected were used to summon the radio demon.
Suddenly I hear her footsteps coming back up the hallway making me close the book fast. As I’m holding it I make a split second decision to shove it into my backpack.
I then quickly ran to stand back in the area I was in before she left. She opens the door, holding a small steak knife in her hand as she smiles at me.
Naomi happily holds up the knife for me to see. “Look! Isn’t it shiny? It’ll make the ritual look cooler, especially when we plunge it into... Oh well you’ll find out in no time.”
I just stare at her trying to remain calm. “That’s when the fun part starts!” Her eyes shimmer as she stares at me.
“You know,” I start off. “I don’t know if I’m feeling up to this anymore. I didn’t tell my parents I was stopping over here so I should probably head home.” I say quietly.
“Huh? What do you mean you’re not feeling up for this?” Naomi’s voice sharpens as she steps toward me.
I instinctively take a step back as I feel my voice catch in my throat.
“No, no, no. You’re not leaving until this is finished.” Naomi starts walking toward me with the knife held up in front of her.
I continue to walk back more hoping to get to my backpack. “I’m really sorry but maybe another time?” I lie hoping to sound believable enough.
Her voice grows louder as she continues to walk toward me. “Another time? What do you mean another time? No, you’re not leaving until this is finished! There’s no turning back now, we’re in way too far.”
I grab my backpack and try to sidestep her to get to her boardroom door.
As soon as I start to pass her Naomi’s arm quickly reaches out and grabs me.
She pulls me close to her and holds the knife close to my neck as she speaks in a slightly quieter voice, although she’s still angry and loud. “I told you there’s no turning back. You’re not leaving until this is finished.”
“Please let go of me Naomi.” I whisper out. “You really don’t need me for this.” Naomi grips my arm slightly tighter as she tightens the knife against my neck.
She laughs lightly as she stares into my eyes with a devious expression. “Oh, but I do. The ritual calls for a sacrifice and you happen to be the lucky one that I’ve chosen.”
I grab her hand trying to get her to let go of my arm. In response she tightens her grip even more with each time I try to pull her hand off.
“What did I just say? The ritual requires a sacrifice and I can’t have you backing out on me now. I’ve been waiting to summon this demon for months.” My eyes widen as I come to a realization.
“So, you’re gonna sit down and stay put until it’s finished. Okay?” I feel myself start to shake.
“Did you- did you become friends with me just because you wanted to use me for this…” I pause as I take a second to swallow. “For this ritual?”
Naomi’s eyes narrow as she leans in close to my ear to answer. “Of course I did. What, you didn’t think that I’d genuinely want to be friends with you, did you?”
She waits to see if she can get any reaction out of me before continuing. “I saw you standing there by yourself, like a lost little deer, and I knew that I could use you to my advantage.”
She leans back a bit to laugh at the situation causing the knife to stray away from my neck slightly. A strange static feeling in the air makes me notice the knife’s gap.
I quickly dart my eyes around the room and notice that she never re-locked the door after getting the knife.
I use this opportunity to sling my backpack off my shoulder and shove it into her creating enough distance between us.
Naomi lets out a shriek of frustration and surprise as the backpack bumps into her.
She drops the knife and I have enough time to make a break for it. I quickly run out of her room and down the stairs to the door.
I hear her shout out my name from behind me, but I don’t slow down and refuse to turn around to look at her.
Instead, I keep running down the stairs as I open the front door and sprint as fast as I can out the front door and down the sidewalk.
My heart beats out of my chest as I run as fast as I can towards my house.
I get there safely and rush inside, immediately shutting and locking the door behind me.
I sigh in relief as I lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths.
After I’ve calmed down a bit I stand up from against the door. I look around and notice my parents aren’t home yet so I head to my room.
My mind is racing as I realize what just happened. I’ve just escaped from Naomi who planned to sacrifice me in order to summon a demon.
I’m lucky to be alive, and it was pure luck that I happened to slip away. That weird static feeling in the air gave me enough courage to try and create enough space between us for me to run.
I can’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort knowing that the static feeling seemed to have given me some courage to make a break for it.
It’s like something was watching over me in that moment. Whether is was a good or bad something I couldn't care less.
I then remembered I swiped her book earlier. I immediately put my backpack on my bed and pulled out the book.
I flip through the pages, looking for anything that could give me a better idea of what kind of ritual Naomi was planning.
It’s clear it was some sort of demon summoning ritual, but I’m still anxious about what the book has to say about it.
Instead, I feel that static presence once more and before I know it I’ve flipped to the page about the radio demon.
The moment my eyes read the words “The radio demon,” I can feel my heart stop in my chest.
The static feeling in the air intensifies, making the words on the page almost glow. My mind becomes fuzzy while my body remains motionless as I try to process all of this.
I skim over the different sections describing the many reasons people try to summon the radio demon. Some of them are more selfish while others are more selfless.
The section on revenge catches my attention as I imagine getting revenge against Naomi.
It explains that one of the perks of summoning the radio demon is having the ability to exact revenge on those who have wronged you.
The exact method of how to summon him isn’t too complicated and only requires a few items, all of which I’ve got in my room.
I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t try this just for… fuck it I think. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I mock her earlier words.
“Alright. Two can play this game Naomi .” I mutter as I go around my room collecting the materials needed to summon the demon.
By the time I’ve gotten all the items set up, J can’t help but feel nervous.
What if this actually works? What if some kind of demon really shows up in my bedroom?
I feel the static presence in the air get stronger, almost as if something is reassuring me that I’m doing the right thing.
The static presence grows stronger but also warmer as it blankets over my body. The longer I stand in it, the more comfortable I feel.
That’s when my brain starts to wander with questions. What exactly will the demon do once it’s summoned? Will it just stand in my room or will it make itself home in my room?
I can’t help but feel the urge to summon him as the static starts to comfort me. As the static presence continues to grow the urge becomes stronger.
My body feels at ease and any worry or doubts I had start to diminish with every breath.
I begin to recite the words written in the book as the static grows even more.
As I continue to speak I start to hear whispers. Whispers that sound as though they are being transmitted through an old-fashioned radio.
I can barely make out any words from the whispers. They just sound like incomprehensible murmurs.
I close my eyes as I continue. As I finish speaking I keep my eyes closed and I can feel the static in the air. It’s so strong that it makes me think the static has formed itself into an actual presence.
“Well hello there dear. you’ve had an interesting day have you not?” A voice says in front of me.
My eyes snap open at the voice and I see a man, no a demon, in front of me.
He is dressed in a red and black outfit that looks like it’s from the 30’s with a cane that has a microphone attached to it.
He also has deer antlers attached to his head along with a monocle on his face.
He leans into the small microphone attached to his cane as he raises an eyebrow. “You know, I’m not that used to getting summoned by a young lady like you, but I must say your reasons for summoning me are certainly… interesting.”
He notices my stunned expression and lets out a hearty chuckle. “I take it this is your first time trying to summon a demon? And to think that you did it to get revenge on that Naomi girl. Very interesting indeed.”
I gain some of my courage back and speak up. “How did you know I wanted to get revenge on her?”
He smiles as he leans in closer to me, his voice a low hum as he answers. “I knew the moment you started the ritual. Those words of revenge are exactly the reason I answered your call. Revenge is one of my specialties, after all.”
I take in his features some more as he leans towards me and I feel my face flush. For a demon he’s not bad to look at.
My face flushes more as I process that thought. Something is definitely wrong with me to be thinking that.
He takes notice of the blush on my cheeks and raises an eyebrow curiously. However, he doesn’t speak up about it and instead continues to speak.
“And to think, all you wanted was to take revenge on dear little Naomi. What did you plan to do? Stab her?” I shrug and I glance away.
“I figured you’d just have a plan.” I mumble slightly embarrassed that I didn’t think this all the way through.
He nods as he looks me over momentarily. “Of course I have a plan. I’ve been doing this for quite some time now.”
He pauses for a moment. “So, are you ready to go and get your revenge? All you have to do is sit back and let me take care of the rest.”
I nod and his grin widens making the static feeling in the room intensify. “So it’s a deal then little deer?” He asks, extending out his hand to me.
I look down to his outstretched hand and feel myself hesitate despite wanting to take it.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m actually making a deal with a demon. Like this is actually happening and I’m not just dreaming it.
On the other hand, he seems fairly well-mannered and he did promise to take care of the entire thing. Plus, that voice of his is quite hypnotic.
I grab his hand and shake it. “It’s a deal.” A laugh track starts to play from his microphone and a chill goes up my spine.
I look at him straight in the eyes before the room starts to spin and I feel myself blackout.
─── ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ───
As I regain consciousness the first thing I notice is the blood on my hands and a static feeling in the air.
I hear a laugh track play from behind me and as I turn around I’m greeted with by the radio demon’s eyes.
“You did a wonderful job my little deer. Not the cleanest job but a wonderful job nonetheless.” He says while gesturing to Naomi’s lifeless body in front of my feet.
I realize what the blood on my hands means as I see Naomi’s lifeless body as I look down towards the ground. She appears to be lifeless and unmoving, not even seeming to breathe.
I start to take shallow breaths as my body shakes. “We need to…” I begin before taking a shaky breath. “We need to clean this up. Hide this-”
I don’t want to get caught. I don’t want anyone to find out I think as I am still shaking.
You can hear him chuckling softly in the background. “Relax my little deer, nobody will be finding this body anytime soon.”
He looks around and I can see his eyes shine as a thought comes to his mind. “Besides, we’ve got bigger plans to take care of now.”
“And those plans are?” I ask barely above a whisper. This causes his grin to widen.
“Why what I shall do with your soul of course.” He chuckles as I stare at him wide eyed.
“That’s exactly right my little deer. You summoned me and made a deal with me, and the moment I completed your little revenge the deal became sealed.”
He leans into his microphone as if he was addressing a crowded room of people. “The contract is signed, now all I need to do is collect my prize.”
My mind races on what he could mean by that. Is he going to kill me? Will he just take control of my body?
He chuckles as he reads the look on my face. “I know you’re thinking a million things right now. How about I get rid of that uncertainty for you and just get straight to the point.”
I gulp as I just continue to stare at him. “You’re an interesting one. So, I shall let you live out the rest of your human life.”
He pauses as more static fills the room. “However, the moment you die and come to Hell you are mine. Your soul is mine. And I will be able to control you like a pawn whenever I please.”
His voice shifts to more of a demonic tone as he finishes speaking. While I know I should be utterly terrified and live the rest of my life in unresting fear all I can think about is how I wouldn’t mind being a pawn to him.
I have a feeling this won’t be the last I see of him before I eventually end up in Hell.
His grin grows wider as he senses that I’m not feeling as frightened as most people usually are when confronting a demon.
Instead, it seems to him I’m enamored even. “I must say, my little deer, you aren’t like anything I’ve seen before.”
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mockerycrow · 10 months
Note
okkk since my last ask went so Amazingly well (I have read it at least 7 to 20 times)
could you do reader with like almost constantly cold hands? like not extremely cold hands, but enough that it's noticeable? I'm just imagining reader (you could use the Cinder callsign again or whatever you feel works best) maybe patching up a wound and whoever (x gaz again??? again, whoever you feel like is best) is surprised by the sudden coldness
anyway no pressure to answer this, I can't wait for whatever you write next <33333 (also this is totally me projecting my cold hands if this feels super random)
Sweater Weather (Gaz x GN!Reader)
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gaz masterlist - crow’s mega masterlist
So now, let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater.
A/N: YET ANOTHER BANGER PROMPT FROM YOU!!! AND ITS FOR GAZ I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!! I hope you get my song reference hehe. i’m also happy you enjoyed the last fic you requested <3 feel free to send in more requests! This is also lowkey a part 2 to your previous request, but it could be a standalone. Cinder is your callsign.
[WARNINGS: minor descriptions of minor injuries, medical inaccuracies, humor, fluff!]
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By this point in time, you and Gaz were two peas in a pod. You were the latest person to join the task force, the last for now, but surely not the least. Everyone had their own set of gear and clothing, their own ways of getting into the right headspaces for missions, and everyone had their own things that they had with them at all times. Price always had his cigars, Ghost always had his mask, Soap always had his sketchbook, and Gaz always had a baseball cap with him. You? You always had gloves on. Not on your person, but always on your hands. The only times the team likely saw you without them is when you were exiting the bathroom, but then again, you were slipping them back on after you had washed your hands.
It perplexed Gaz. He understood everyone else’s reasons and items—Price is admittedly addicted to cigars, Ghost is just.. Ghost, Soap’s sketchbook helps him calm down and document things, his own hat was a comfort for him in the field.. But your gloves made no sense. To be fair, he didn’t notice right away. Many people wear gloves in the field to protect their hands, even on the hottest days, they’ll wear gloves and sweat in them until their fingertips prune from the moisture. You? You always, always wore them inside. On base. In your room… While eating— The point is, you always wore them. No matter the situation. It has him—and likely the others-wondering why exactly you do this. The few times they’ve seen your hands without gloves, none of them were close enough to see if you were, for some reason, hiding scars, perhaps hand tattoos, just something that would make sense.
Gaz ended up sporting himself a nasty split lip after an enemy managed to bash his head into a door frame, a wound that definitely needed stitches. It was the lower lip, off-center to the right with blood dribbling down his chin. Everyone was split up on the mission— You and Gaz were paired together, while Soap and Price were also paired. Ghost was operating alone for some stealth work. He’s sitting down on an old wooden chair in a house you two have held up in for the night. You open your duffel bag by the south wall, which is front of Gaz. You rummage around for the medical kit you began to bring everywhere after you fell through the floor a few months ago. “I don’t think we have too much further to go.” Gaz commented, glancing at the boarded up window to his left. There was a small sliver between the boards, allowing him to see that the sun is setting.
“Stop talking, you’ll agitate your lip.” You scold softly, grabbing the handle of the medical kit and you pull it out of the stuffed duffel bag. You glance over at him to see him quietly—yet playfully—mocking you under his breath. Sometimes you’re convinced he spends too much time with Soap, but then you always remember in the back of your mind, he’s more-so playful around you than anyone else. You walk over and place it on the table next to Gaz, opening the latches and pushing the top open. You look into the box and blink rapidly when you don’t see any disposable gloves. You then pick up packages of gauze, the small plastic container holding the medical thread, you practically rearrange everything and yet, it seems they were not packed. “Fuck.” You curse under your breath. You let out a sigh as Gaz asks you, “Cinder? What’s wrong?”
You tear the velcro off of the wrist part of your glove and slip it off, repeating the process with your other glove. “Whoever packaged this medical kit didn’t add disposable gloves, and my gloves are dirty as hell.” You mumble, even slightly pouting about it. Gaz raises an eyebrow at your attitude, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You grab a bottle of antiseptic and you put your finger up as without looking at him, you already know he’s about to say something snarky. “Open your mouth again and I’ll use this tourniquet on your damn neck.”
Gaz bursts out laughing, causing you to roll your eyes and smile yourself. You pop open and cap and pour the antiseptic onto your hands, the extra liquid splattering against the floor and onto your boots. You set the bottle down and grab a needle and take out some thread. Despite the calm mood between you two, Gaz is still on high alert. You can tell by his posture, the way his eyes flicker towards the boarded up windows, the barricaded door.. On one hand, you wish you could reassure him but you’re also still on high alert, especially after witnessing Gaz get his face bashed. You quietly thread the string through the needles hole, turning to Gaz completely. You grab his jaw to turn his head and this man physically flinches, muttering, “Bloody hell, your hands are cold.”
You laugh as you position his head for the best angle that you need, bringing the needle close to his lips. “Why do you think I’m wearing gloves all the time, Gaz?” Your eyebrows furrow inward slightly as you begin to concentrate, hoping to distract him from the pain of the needle piercing his skin. “Even in the hotter areas our missions were in, my hands would be sweating, yet they were cold.”
Gaz blinks in surprise, completely forgetting about the needle that is about to enter his skin. That’s why you wore gloves all the time? It wasn’t because of a big secret you were hiding? No scars? No tattoos?
You were cold?
Gaz stares at your scrunched face he begins to feel a bit stupid, as he never considered that as a possibility.
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void-wolfie · 8 months
Text
i love you. i support you.
summary: jenna finds you on the bathroom floor puking. [request]
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
tw: eating disorders, bulimia, terrible writing lol
words: 1.08k
a/n: I don't have any experience with eating disorders so this may not be an accurate description. I know bulimia affects people in different ways and I did my best to research and depict this disorder in an authentic manner. if you have an eating disorder you should definitely seek help. it took me a while to find the right words to write this but hopefully this is what you were asking for anon :)
*if mentions of eating disorders (i.e.; anorexia, bulimia, etc.) trigger you please refrain from reading
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Jenna was sitting across the dinner table from you, her plate almost empty, unlike yours, which you'd barely made a dent in. You'd eaten a little bit, but you didn't feel like eating anymore, you just kept pushing the rest of your food around with your fork.
Jenna watched you mindlessly push the food around on your plate, completely unaware of her eyes on you. She was worried. You'd been acting strange for a while now, and that bubbly, carefree demeanor you carried proudly seemed to be fading away.
She chalked it up to stress at first, work was rough for you and she hadn't been able to spend as much time with you due to her own projects. But it felt like there was something else going on as well, she just couldn't figure out what.
"Babe?"
Your head shot up, finally noticing her worried expression. It sent a wave of guilt through you; you hadn't meant to make her worry...
"Is everything okay?" She seemed wary of asking like you were some ticking time bomb waiting to go off.
"Yeah, fine," you forced a small smile, trying your best to ease your girlfriend's worries, "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."
You got up from the table as fast as humanly possible while trying not to look suspicious, a task easier said than done. Especially when your girlfriend is great at reading body language.
You made sure to shut the bathroom door behind you, instantly turning on the sink to drown out any noise.
Your stupid thoughts, they were at it again. You often felt safe in Jenna's presence, like your own insecurities couldn't touch you. But right now, there was a war raging inside your mind and you were quickly losing.
You knew looking in the mirror right now would be a death sentence, so you avoided that, instead, focusing on the way your hands gripped the white countertop.
It's just in your head. It's all in your head. You kept telling yourself. You can control it. Don't listen to it.
But the other little voice in your head was screaming, begging, clawing its way through the caverns of your mind. If it were any louder you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors down the street could hear it. Fat. Fat. Fat. Too many calories.
Fat. Need to purge.
Ignore it. It can't control you.
Purge!
Shut up!
It started to dawn on you that maybe you were fighting a losing battle. Destined to lose no matter how long you fought.
Jenna was worried. You ran to the bathroom fairly quickly. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. She could hear the sink running, drowning out any noise.
Tired of the uncertainties rolling around in the back of her mind, she made her way to the bathroom, pressing her ear up to the door to listen in. Yes, it was an invasion of privacy, but she needed to make sure you were okay.
For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of the sink running. Then she heard it, it practically echoed against the bathroom walls. The sound of puking.
She gently pushed open the bathroom door, just to confirm if her suspicions were true. Through the crack of the door, she could see you slumped over the toilet, your knees digging into the tile floor as you gripped the bowl and emptied the contents of your stomach.
Jenna pushed open the door the rest of the way. She sat down on the floor next to you, trying to give you space while still being close enough to rub your back soothingly.
She didn't say anything, just sat there, doing her best to provide you with comfort.
It had been quiet for a few minutes now. You were silently waiting for the next wave of vomit, but there didn't seem to be one coming. The tears had stopped flowing long ago, but the salty tracks were still wet against your cheeks trailing down to your chin. Your throat ached and you could feel the shame of the situation beginning to seep in.
"It's back, isn't it?" It was Jenna who'd broken the silence, barely even whispering in the quiet of the bathroom. The only noise was the sink still softly running in the background. Part of you was glad she left the sink running, the sound of the water was better than having to listen to your puking echo in dead silence.
You nodded, silently answering Jenna's question.
You told Jenna about your eating disorder long ago, when the two of you first started dating. You didn't give her many details, and she didn't push you to tell her. She knew the basics, and she was glad you trusted her enough to tell her anything at all. You were in recovery; you were doing well. At least you were till a few weeks ago. All it took was a bad fight with a close friend and a few comments about your past to send you spiraling. You relapsed that day and have been struggling to manage it since.
Jenna's hand still rested on your back, doing her best to try and comfort you, "How can I help?"
"I don't know..." You answered truthfully.
"We're going to get through this together, okay? I love you. I support you."
If it weren't for the conflicting tide of emotions washing over you, you'd probably be smiling like a love-sick fool. I love you. I support you. You said that to Jenna every time she had to go away for filming or movie premieres or whatever else her busy schedule had planned. It had become routine between the two of you, one that had become a source of comfort for both of you. Now it was her turn to support you.
"Let's get you cleaned up, okay."
You let Jenna help clean you up. She made sure you brushed your teeth extra well, making you use mouthwash twice just to be safe. She helped you into the shower and helped your tired form get dressed after. And when it was all said and done, she made sure you were cozy in bed before putting on your favorite movie to fall asleep to. The talk of figuring out a plan was promised to be done tomorrow, for now, all you wanted was comfort and your girlfriend, and Jenna was more than happy to help with both of those things.
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adriennebarnes · 1 month
Text
OBSESSED
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina Plus Size! Reader
Summary: Y/N has been dating Henry Cavill for a few weeks and everything was going fine with their relationship until she found out that his ex is Ana de Armas.
Warning: I think this turned out a little more comical than I wanted to but it was fun to write.
A/N: Obviously his dating history is made up, this is inspired by Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo (I definitely prefer GUTS over SOUR, its more my vibe, not a stan though) ANYWAY, as a plus sized Latina who struggles with her body image and has tons of insecurities, i will be projecting. Let me know if you want more plus sized Y/Ns in the future
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When Y/N was younger, she always had the dream of walking the red carpet like Salma Hayek. Though she wasn’t a singer or an actress, she couldn’t believe her dream is coming true as she walks alongside Henry Cavill, her super handsome actor boyfriend. They met on the set of the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare, Y/N was the guest of Eiza Gonzalez, Henry confused her as one of the wardrobe designers, Y/N explained who she was, and they hit it off. They were invited to the premiere of an action movie. She had on a smoky blue dress with a slit up to the middle of her left thigh and a corset bodice, absolutely beautiful. Henry and Y/N were posing for photos and Henry leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“You look ravishing, darling.” Henry whispered and kissed her temple when he pulled away. After a few more pictures, they entered the area, Henry began to talk to some people he knew and that’s when Y/N bumped into someone.
“Ay que boba soy, im so sorry.” Y/N told the Woman she bumped into but couldn’t see her face.
“No se preocupe, está bien.” The woman said, she turned to face Y/N and Y/N was in shock.
“No way, Ana de Armas de verdad lo siento mucho, no me estaba fijando.” Y/N said,
“Toda está bien, de verdad, me encanta su vestido.” Ana said, gesturing to Y/N’s dress. The twos were talking until…
“Ready to go in, love?” Henry said, putting his arm around Y/N. “Ana, how are you?” Henry asked the Cuban woman.
“Henry, I didn’t know you came with someone, she’s stunning. It was nice seeing you again, guapo, un placer conocerla, querida.” Ana said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek as she went inside. Henry and Y/N stayed back.
“How do you two know each other? I don’t think you guys made a movie together, right?” Y/N asked, curious how the British man knew the Cuban actress.
“Well, love, um, Ana and I dated…for a while.” Henry said. Y/N’s eyes widened.
“What?” Y/N questioned. So many questions were going through her head. Why did they break up? Was it jealousy? Is that why Henry chose her to date? He wouldn’t get jealous dating Y/N because no one else would want to date the fat girl? Henry’s voice pulled her away from her thoughts.
“Let’s go in and watch the movie, yeah?” Henry asked, leading Y/N in the theater to watch the movie but Y/N couldn’t pay attention. She couldn’t help but compare herself to Ana de Armas, like Ana was basically perfect! Ana’s hair looks so healthy, her amber eyes were just beautiful, her skin was flawless, and then there’s her, her hair is frizzy no matter how she styles it (wavy hair problems), there’s nothing special about her eyes, and no amount of makeup or skincare would give her that airbrushed look. Why is Henry going out with Y/N? That is what she keeps asking herself.
When the movie was over, Henry and Y/N went back to his house to unwind.
“You staying the night, darling?” Henry asked, hanging up his coat.
“Yeah, Fortachón, I’m staying.” Y/N said, sitting on his couch. “I didn’t know you dated Ana.”
“Yeah, it was a long time ago.” Henry said.
“If you guys never had any movies together, how did you meet?” Y/N asked. She was curious about his past relationship.
“My love, I don’t think we should be talking about this.” Henry commented.
“Fine, I’ll drop it.” Y/N said.
“Good.” Henry said. “Now let’s get you out of this dress because I’m tempted to see what’s underneath.” Henry grinned.
And he did just that. However, when Henry was asleep, Y/N was wide awake, looking at Ana’s instagram. She is so perfect! Not too short, not too tall, Ana had an hourglass figure unlike herself. Did Ana slept in the same bed as Henry, same side as Y/N, she bet Ana had those sexy silk pajamas unlike her, opting for her Macy’s pajamas set. She googled Henry and Ana together and their size difference was PERFECT, Henry and Ana looked like Hercules and Meg, Y/N, however, saw herself as Merryweather from Sleeping Beauty.
“Why do I do this to myself?” Y/N mumbled, her hands covering her face. She decided to watch Overdrive, which is one of Ana de Armas’s movie and she was gorgeous, but Ana was definitely prettier in person. Y/N fell asleep watching one of her interviews on YouTube, turns out Ana and Henry are the same sign.
Henry woke up and found Y/N already awake, stalking Ana’s Instagram.
“Darling, what are you doing?” Henry asked,
“Nothing.” Y/N said, quickly exiting out of the app.
“That didn’t look like nothing, why are you looking at pictures of Ana?” Henry asked, sitting up in the bed.
“I’m just curious. How long have you two dated?” Y/N asked. Henry rolled his eyes.
“I thought you dropped it.” Henry said.
“And I’m picking it up again, how long have you two dated?” Y/N asked.
“4 years, I met her when I was filming ‘A man from UNCLE’ in Italy.” Henry told Y/N, knowing what her next question would be.
“Why did you two break up?” Y/N asked.
“I guess we just grew apart.” Henry commented and Y/N looked at him.
“Why did you grow apart?” Y/N asked.
“Oh my god, angel, leave it alone, please, I have never seen you act this way, you know I’ve had previous relationships, why is this one different?” Henry asked
“Because it’s Ana de Armas! You went from Ana de Armas to me, do you understand how mind boggling that is?” Y/N gets up from their bed. “She’s an 11 and I’m a 4, and that’s on a good day, Fortachón. I know you love me and clearly looks don’t matter to you,” Y/N said gesturing to herself. “But I can’t help but think about you and Ana. What about your other exes? Are they actresses too? Or are they models? Singers?“
“You think I don’t wonder about your exes too?” Henry gets up as well. “Of course I think about them! But I don’t obsess over them like your obsessing over Ana right.” Henry said.
“You wanna know why? Because you don’t know who they are! You never met them, I never really told you about them, so you could imagine them however you want! You are a public figure so your previous relationships are all on Google.” Y/N said and goes downstairs to the kitchen, Henry following quickly behind her.
“Y/N, i love YOU, i am with you, Ana and I haven’t talked in years, we only make small talk if we see each other at award shows or premieres. You are so beautiful and I love you because you make me feel safe, happy, and at home.” Henry said, looking at Y/N in her eyes.
“I love you too, Fortachón, but I still have some questions. Did she give great head? Like I know I’m not the best at it, I’ve been told before, but…” Y/N started but Henry kissed her, after a while he pulled away.
“You’re better…wait, who said you weren’t good?” Henry questioned.
“Not the point..” Y/N said but was interrupted by Henry.
“No no, you obsessed over Ana, now it my turn to talk about your ex, what did he do?” Henry asked with his arms folded in front of his chest.
“Mm, He’s a hockey player, his name is James Oleksiak.” Y/N said. She went to the fridge to look for what to make for breakfast. “How do you feel about pancakes?” Y/N asked. Henry googled him and his eyes widened.
“James Oleksiak? HE IS 6’7!” Henry exclaimed.
“Yeah, i was a hockey WAG, good times.” Y/N said. “If it makes you feel better, I dated Lewis Hamilton for a while too, he’s 5’9 so you’re good.”
“You’re doing this on purpose now.” Henry said, also looking up pictures of Lewis Hamilton. “Okay, now I know how you feel.”
“I guess we’re both obsessed with each other’s exes. Can we stop doing that? That was actually exhausting.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, as far as we know, we only date each other.” Henry said, kissing Y/N. “How big was James?”
“I am not answering that.” Y/N said, laughing at Henry’s question.
“Why not? I answered your question about Ana.” Henry tried to convince Y/N. “Wait, did James say you weren’t that good or was it Lewis?”
“I’m good, I just can’t deep throat.” Y/N said and Henry thought for a second.
“It was James, wasn’t it?” Henry asked.
“Oh my god, stop, help me make pancakes.” Y/N said
The end
Because of the poll results, I am trying to write more Henry Cavill x Reader, I’ll still write about Walter and Mike, just not as often. ALSO, Henry Cavill’s nickname going forward is “Fortachón”, I can’t BELIEVE I forgot that in Hercules, his nickname in the Spanish Latino dub is fortachón, and since I had the idea to make Henry dress up as Hercules in a fanfic @shellyshellshell wrote, Fortachón is PERFECT! I was going through a crisis trying to figure out a good nickname for Henry, like damn.
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