#file name is ''PR did not like that''

[avianii]

LMAO ok i was gonna stop and then i didnt and so here's a redraw of a sketch i made like 2 years ago

#hades #hades game #hades fanart #thanatos #file name is ''PR did not like that'' #aviiart

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to the second installment of this scenario, featuring Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 who helped me write this finale.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this series will be taken down.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive back into the cutthroat world of publishing.

Part One

The press conference went as expected. 

Everyone wanted to know who accused best-selling author Abigail Crowley of plagiarism, where is the evidence to prove that an unidentified individual is the one who really wrote The Darkness and The Nightingale, and why are the representatives of the publishing company are now just finding out about it less than a month before its release date. Yandere!Literary Agent is good at his job, at least when it comes to standing in front of flashing cameras and phones shoved in his face, asking for a statement. He answered the journalists who patiently raised their hands and disregarded the ones who kept interrupting with asinine questions that had nothing to do with the subject of the press conference whatsoever. Yes, he had been contacted by the true writer. No, he will not give out a name to respect their privacy. Yes, there is evidence and it will be presented to a judge, should Abigail Crowley wishes to take Sailboat Publishing House to court and fight back against the claims. No, the printing date will not be changed. He is currently with the writer on revisions and he will not take any more questions at this time. Please speak to the company’s PR representative, Ms. Isley, for a formal interview. That is it for today. 

The world now knows the truth. Social media was going to be a proverbial shitstorm; one side will defend Abigail Crowley and say she is the true author as she is still a great writer, and there will be people who speak trash to her out of spite for whatever reason. Some will even try to track you down online and harass you for days on end. Yandere!Literary Agent just hoped that you meant what you said about not being online anymore because of politics. 

In any case, the projected million copies to be sold would have to decrease significantly. You told him over the phone that you didn’t mind, commenting that at least 100,000 should be a tidy enough number and he would still get his commission. He didn't have to worry about the fees since Abigail is going to pay for those, or fight back. That was the ultimatum Yandere!Literary Agent and the board members gave it to her almost a week ago. 

It was six-thirty in the evening when he told you about what had happened. He was still in the office finishing up a few things, and he had you on speaker mode while he typed away at his desk. You were typing too, working on the revisions and thanking the universe that you had a digital copy of your manuscript on file too, so the task he had given you made things a little easier. So did taking two weeks off of work. But the way you saw it, the PTO either had to be used now, or it wouldn’t be rolled over because you had too much PTO. Yes, that can definitely happen in your career field because you need the hours to pay for bills and essentially being alive. You were making good progress and hoped that you didn’t need to pull another all-nighter just to finish up these edits on page 159. 

You were diligent, Yandere!Literary Agent will give you that much. He reminded you of the deadline. You told him to focus on his work, and he’ll have a pristine manuscript in his inbox. Please stop the daily phone calls and text messages, he was putting the pressure on you. This is why you did not want to become an author. 

He contacted you on Friday night about the press conference. The following week, an email titled The Darkness and the Nightingale - final edits popped up as soon he opened his computer on Thursday morning. 

It’s done. Contact me only if there are edits that must absolutely be changed. Going to sleep. Night. 

[First Name]

The manuscript had been sent to him at three o’clock in the morning. You had really cut it close but it was here. The story was finished. He quickly opened up the document. He looked over the edits, compared it to what was written before….and nodded in affirmation. Yes. Yandere!Literary Agent thought as he looked over the words, your words, with a small smile, leaning back against his leather chair. This is a story that will sell. 

Yandere!Literary Agent placed the manuscript on a flash drive, arranged a meeting with the printing companies and sent you three options for the cover art and needed a response as soon as you were able to. All in all, everything had turned out. A week before the release date arrived, The Darkness and The Nightingale were loaded into trucks to be sold in bookstores across the  country.  

One task done. Now to move onto the next project. 

He deleted your contact info. He had no reason to keep it, at least on his phone. Email was enough. Sure enough, another client sent him a pitch for a new trilogy that would act as the prequel to the original ones that were already popular with young adults, and Yandere!Literary Agent dove head first into it. He hadn’t realized that a month had passed since The Darkness and The Nightingale had been published. This is what usually happens when he concentrates solely on one client. A bad habit, yes, but as he has mentioned beforehand, he is good at his job. 

No news yet in regards to Abigail Crowley, the plagiarism issue was dying down in favor of a startlet’s drug overdose, and there was a meeting on Monday to discuss sales. Another win-win for Yulian Prescott, the man who had single-handedly saved the company from going under. But on Friday afternoon, Yandere!Literary Agent received an email from the printing companies and PR department, concerning the sales of your book. Flummoxed, and a little worried that the number of copies unsold outweighed what was printed, he opened the email. 

He blinked. And then blinked again before removing his glasses, giving them a good cleaning and placing them back onto his face. He re-read the email again, his eyes growing wider and wider. This wasn’t about copies that weren’t sold….it was a request from five hundred different printing companies to print your book. The demand wasn’t isolated to the States. There were demands from all over the world! 

Unlocking his phone, he swiped over to TikTok, searched for Booktok and looked at the trending topics. There were reels, memes, and reactions about your book. There were people quoting about your book, reenactments of certain scenes, before and after reactions, etc. Of course there were some who didn’t believe that you wrote it, thinking you stole it from Abigail, but that was beside the point. 

Your first book had taken the world by storm, and he hadn’t even considered this possibility because it has only happened a few times with Sailboat Publishing. He should have negotiated a higher number of books with you! But that was then, this is now. 

He quickly opened a new message on his email, attaching the email he had gotten, inquiring you to see what he has seen and if you would allow more copies to be published. His schedule is open, so please answer when you get a chance.  He received an email from you a few hours later, stating the following:

 I work twelve hour shifts on weekdays and only have weekends to get my life together. Why do we need to discuss numbers? I already received the advanced copy. Were you trying to send an attachment? It didn’t go through. Wi-Fi was down until now. 

[First Name]

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately responded, asking if you would like to meet up later today if that was possible. You said that you were still out running a few errands, but could meet him at Sally’s Diner or a Starbucks.  Both places were located halfway between his office and your home, at least the ones you knew about. If he wasn’t at work today, where else did he want to meet? You don’t want to travel too far, and you’d like to take a nap before it gets too late in the day. He had to fight off the smile that was threatening to stretch across his mouth. Cheeky. He thought. He already had a light lunch, but he wasn’t opposed to getting a mid-afternoon pickup. When he offered to pay for your drink and a pastry of your choice, you responded that you would meet him there in an hour. 

It gave plenty of time to gather what he needed to speak to you about the current situation. 

He met you outside of the building at the allotted time, enjoying a light breeze before following you inside, holding the door open for you and a mother-daughter duo exiting with Strawberry Acai Refreshers in their hands. 

Once the orders were placed under his name, Yandere!Literary Agent led you to the back of the cafe and sat down at one of the small tables. You followed suit, hooking the straps of your backpack on the back of your chair.  “Did you read the attachment?” He asked. 

You nodded. “I did. But….you’re absolutely sure the numbers are right, the ones you’ve shown me? Because if this is your idea of a joke, I swear to God -”

Yulian held up a hand in the air, stopping you from saying anything else.

"Believe me I thought the same thing when I first opened it, but this is no joke, [First Name]. Publishing companies from around the world have reached out, requesting mass publications in at least fifteen different languages, at the moment. And according to the PR team, more keep coming. Your work has gone global, [First Name], and more people are wanting to read it." 

You looked at him in utter disbelief, leaning back against the chair with wide [Eye Color] orbs. Before you could ask him any more questions, the barista called out for Yulian. 

Yandere!Literary Agent stood up, collecting the drinks and pastry and returning to his seat. Placing them down on the table, he gave yours, and put his black coffee to the side so that he could boot up his laptop. He pulled up the reprint requests so you could see it for yourself. The proof that you are a successful writer. You stared at the screen for a moment until you glanced back up at him.

“Why is it so successful? I thought the reason we agreed on a small number of copies to be printed was because of the plagiarism scandal. There’s been nothing on the news about it lately, or about Abigail.” 

Yulian smiled. “Because you are a brilliant writer. While we did agree on a small account of copies to be printed, there’s high praise on social media. Everyone is clamoring to read it, hence why the demand is greater than anyone could have anticipated, myself included.” He folded his hands together, elbows pressing against the table. “Now, regarding the…situation with Ms. Crowley, the legal team still has the materials you had shown to me; the receipts from Etsy, the Google Docs, they all have timestamps. So even if she wishes to take it to court, no one can deny that she did indeed steal your work because you created this masterpiece while she was working on another series. And before you say anything, your personal information has and will not be released.”

You nodded slowly at his words, your shoulders dropping in relief before reaching for your beverage, taking a languid sip from the cup. Then another, obviously relishing the effect of caffeine giving your body that much needed energy boost. Yandere! Literary Agent knew the feeling all too well. 

“Now, how many copies will you allow us to reprint?”

“What are the fees that will come with doing this kind of job?” You fired back. “If there is a global demand like you say there is, then someone will need to translate it. Not to mention there are different cover designs, marketing, all of that fun stuff. Will the royalties, if I am to receive any, be deducted to cover the cost? I do not want to get myself into any more debt that I already have.”

Yandere!Literary Agent pulled out his laptop from his messenger bag, pulling up the spreadsheets that the publishing and financing departments had created earlier in the week. The information included fees for translating, reprinting,  and international shipping based on demand. On the very bottom of the last spreadsheet would be your net income. 

He had no doubt that this amount of money would allow you to be debt-free and live comfortably…at least until you could write another book. Then he saw the confusion, panic, excitement and anxiety swirling in your irises. The mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Yandere!Literary Agent had seen that stupefied look more than once. It was the expression of someone who had not expected to receive such a big paycheck, at least until he had kindly explained that there were some fees which needed to be paid, which would be deducted from the royalties. With you, it seemed like he did not have to hold your hand and explain how the business of publishing went, word for word. 

Which is why he was quite surprised to see you suddenly standing up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, watching you push in the chair.

“I’m leaving.”

“But you still haven’t decided on a number of copies for us to reprint!”

“I’m sorry, but I am not liking where this conversation is headed. As I mentioned before, I write for fun. This isn’t about the money, and I have no desire whatsoever to be your next cash cow.  Can’t you decide on a number and call it a day?”

“Not without your consent! That would be in direct violation of our contract, and you wouldn’t be paid for the reprinted copies!” He exclaimed. Yes, he knew that he was acting a bit…childish, but this is a serious matter! How could you even think of walking away from a one-in-a-million opportunity like this? Or even believe that he would use your writing to embellish the company’s reputation further by being the sole representative of an extremely popular, best-selling writer?

Because in the darkest corner of his mind, a nasty voice would gleefully agree with your accusations. This was nothing personal, it was a business. And he would go where there was talent, and money. Not to mention elevate his status even further as a high-in-demand literary agent for one of the biggest publishing companies in the States. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, then leaned forward, putting your hands on the back of the chair.

“Mister Prescott, for a minute, please pretend I am not a client and explain in layman’s terms, why would I be paid for that? As far as I was concerned, once the book is out of my hands, it is your responsibility and how the printing is handled. Or am I wrong?” 

A client. That’s right….you weren’t a client. You were just a hobbyist writer who had your work stolen by one of his clients. But you were still a writer, someone who could create worlds while working godawful shifts back-to-back. So he spoke plainly to you.

While you were not officially his client, your work was still part of Sailboat Publishing, therefore it is his responsibility to ensure that the royalties matched the time and effort you had put in creating The Darkness and The Nightingale. Yes, he had to make sure the quality of the book’s printing were high quality and not a hackneyed rush job just to keep up with the demand. 

Then he said he would be delighted if he could be your official representative…in the near future.

You shook your head. “No need for that. You returned my story to me. After we decide on numbers, I’d say your business with me is done.”

“You don’t want to be an author on the New York Times’ Bestseller List.” It was more of a statement than a question. So why did his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at the thought of never seeing you again once you walk out of the door?

“I’m pretty sure you have more than enough clients to keep yourself busy for a long time.” You said dryly. “You’d drive yourself crazy if you worked with me.”

“And how do you know that it won’t work out?” He challenged you with a small smile. You just gave him an ‘are-you-shitting-me’ frown before releasing a low sigh.

“I still have six more months left on my contract with the hospital. I can’t just quit or I risk having to pay back everything as compensation for breaching it before the end of the contract. I wouldn’t be able to do anything related to the book, like tours and interviews until…sometime next year? No, more like the beginning of next year, like around February. I am starting to outline the concept of another idea I have for a book, a standalone, but I only write on my days off or when I’m on my lunch break. Are you fine with waiting until I send you a query letter and the first fifty pages until next February? Is that too long for your liking?”

Yandere! Literary Agent was not bothered by this proposition. If anything, it worked out perfectly with his schedule. And there is the prospect of you becoming his official client. However, he did not want to push your boundaries any more than he already has for today. Instead, he said that it was fine with him. 

“If you agree to us printing more copies of The Darkness and The Nightingale, then we’ll be all set until next year. Do you want to use the same cover worldwide, or do you want us to come up with some alternative covers for different countries, and send you the designs you like?”

“...Alternative.” You said, pulling back the chair and sitting back down, backpack plopped into the adjacent seat. “Do you have any artists that you recommend, or have portfolios I could look at?”

Decisions were discussed within the next hour, and Yandere!Literary Agent was satisfied with leaving Starbucks with an idea of what his Monday morning is going to look like. But what satisfied him more was the number of copies that he and you agreed on. Fifty-thousand, in each language. 

It was enough to make his heart quicken with excitement. 

Or is he anticipating the momentous day when you signed a contract with Sailboat Publishing and he became your literary agent? Six months might seem like a long time….but he prided himself on being a patient man. 

Knowing he will be the best damned agent for you, because you deserve nothing less, and much more.  

Knowing he will be the only one to read your WIPS, help you become a better writer, protect you from the paparazzi and anyone else who would dare to try to covet you like a trophy. 

Knowing that in the end, all you will have is him. And he will have you, whether you like it or not. 

If Abigail Crowley keeps trying to contact him, pleading that she wasn’t wrong and that she did have a new idea for a book so please read her emails she’s been sending please give her one more chance don’t ruin her life please…he might have to do something about it. 

Noisy dogs need to be fed, right?

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

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#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere! literary agent #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive love #tw manipulation #cw manipulation

[sadesluvr]

Guilty - William Afton x Reader

To be a lawyer is to adhere to a strict code of ethics.

A/N: Slight AU, but not really. This is kind of tame compared to other William fics I have planned, but I thought it’d be fun to make Reader more dominant and less innocent than usual! This has a bit of build up, but it pays off ofc ;) You can imagine William to be in his 40s/50s like he is in the movie, or 30s as he would’ve been during his killing spree.

Word count: 2.6K

Tags: SMUT / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20s) / Sexual tension / Hybristophilia / Power play (Kinda) / Fearplay (If you squint) / Clothed sex / Unprotected sex / Mutual consent / Dirty talk / Discussion of murder / Mentions of cheating

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza was in a mess. A bunch of children had just gone missing - presumed dead - and there were even rumblings of a lawsuit from the victims’ families. It certainly wasn’t the case an up-and-coming lawyer usually received, but had the potential to be the one that cemented your career.

“I must say, I’m rather surprised you chose me to help you out,” you said to the man who was sitting at the table as you closed the door behind you. Your office was by no means large, but it was sizable enough to make you feel important.

“Why’s that?” He asked, cocking his head, his brows raising above the rims of his glasses. You’d done your pre reading; the man’s name was William Afton, a humble businessman who’d started the pizzeria and had come to you for help. He seemed well meaning enough.

“Well,” you began, adjusting your skirt as you sat down, “I’m not the typical face you’d imagine when picturing a bloodthirsty lawyer. Especially someone like you…”You said carefully. It was no secret that men either overlooked you, or went out of their way to hire you for your ‘assets’. “I find they’re usually set in their ways about having a woman deal with their issues,”

The man shrugged, a small smirk creeping to the side of his face. 

“Doesn’t bother me. I have a daughter of my own,”

“Oh,” you smiled, pushing your chair in as you fixed the paperwork around you. “Is she…?”

“She’s a little younger than you,” he said simply. “I make it a mission to practise what I preach at home,”

You smiled, and he smiled back, his skin wrinkling ever so slightly around his eyes and sides of his mouth. He was put together and certainly likeable; only driving you to want to help him out even more. you were quite comfortable, which was good as it was likely that the rest of the office, bar the receptionist and the interns, would file out over time, leaving you alone with him in your assigned wing.

“I suppose we should get started. First — Would you like a cup of coffee?”

/

“…In conclusion, I suggest you speak to this PR rep, he’s excellent,” you said, sliding a card across the table. “For now, our plan is to go ahead with the statement, and hold off on any retaliation,” you continued, making a few notes as you did. “Cooperate with the police, and let me handle things — But, if there’s anything I should know, it’s best you tell me…” you finished, looking up at him from across the table, your eyes meeting his own blue ones.

William smirked. His focus on the task had dwindled in and out over the past hour and a half, having watched the way you explained things with striking confidence, yet bit your pen childishly before writing things down. He couldn’t help but admire a woman with confidence, and it certainly helped that it wasn’t misplaced. You were good at your job. Perhaps too good.

He wondered how you’d ended up here. Young, attractive, yet closed off in a building with stuffy businessmen on a Friday night. You should’ve been at the club; dressed in your sluttiest attire, making out with random guys whilst you split Margaritas on yourself, eventually taking them back home and fucking their brains off. He wondered if you were the dominant or submissive type; if you liked to take charge and ride in cowgirl position, or into the classic missionary, arms above your head as you moan and whimper for more. You might’ve been good at your job, but it was impossible that you hadn’t fucked any of the seniors in the office during your time. 

More importantly, he wondered if you’d ever slept with your clients. After all, it wasn’t as if they were in his calibre; likely some shady businessmen who’d moved a few pots of money around, or middle-aged men moaning about real estate - none notable enough to ruin your reputation.

This was much different. Far different.

You didn’t know it, but you were face to face with a killer.

“Such as?” he hummed. Of course he knew what you meant, but he just wanted to hear you say it.

“…Anything that could damage your validity should there be a trial,” you said, sitting back in your seat. “Forged bank documents, hoarding evidence, an admission of guilt…”

“You think I had something to do with it?”

You paused, somewhat taken aback by how abrupt he was. Usually people reacted dramatically to accusations (especially ones as callous as this), and yet he was eerily calm, barely even flinching at the mention. It intrigued you, but more disturbingly it made you horny.

“I never said that,” you shrugged, trying to compose yourself. “But, if you did, it could change this situation entirely. Your wife, your daughter - the public - will look at you very differently,”

William chuckled, his leg beginning to bounce in excitement. The mention of his family was quite the mood killer, and yet you acknowledging them turned him on. They weren’t really any more than tools to look like a convincing family-friendly businessman, and yet you seemingly bought into it. In terms of the public, well, he had a big ego for sure, but his libido was bigger. Throbbing, even.

“And what about you?” He said, leaning in and placing his hands under his chin, grinning at the way you shifted under his gaze. It was time to turn the tables.

“Excuse me?” you choked, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in your stomach. There was something in the way that he smiled at you, like he was getting some kind of satisfaction from making you squirm. Perhaps you’d been wrong about him. Perhaps there was something deeper. 

“Will you look at me any differently?” he insisted. You paused for a moment before shaking your head. 

“Absolutely not, Mr Afton. It’s my duty to be impartial,”

So prim and proper. It was time to blur the boundaries.

“Tch,” he scoffed before bursting into laughter. “Come on! That’s what they all say. It’s human nature to judge,”

You rolled your eyes, tossing your leg over the other as you began to drum your fingertips on your desk impatiently. This was usually the part where whoever you were talking to stopped to talk down to you. William could tell you were agitated, and he loved the way your brows were beginning to furrow and lips scrunch into a pout. He wondered how they tasted. Much more how they felt.

“It’s also human nature to feel discomfort when running over time,” you snapped, closing your files with haste. “This session is over, Mr Afton,”

So feisty. Repression had clearly done a number on you.

It was a blatant sign for him to move on, and yet he remained firmly in his seat, watching as you got up to put your files away, skirt slightly crumpled around your legs from how long you’d been sitting. You noticed this and pulled it down, turning to face the man yet again and leaning over the table, palms flat as you rested your hands on either side. 

You were rather close to him, and if anyone walked in it would seem sketchy. It didn’t help that he was quite handsome; with rugged yet refined features, a slowly greying goatee and bright eyes that were somewhat hidden by his large glasses. The longer that you stared at him, the more you felt weakened under his gaze.

“Can I help you, Mr Afton?”

“You can,” he said, and you raised a brow for him to continue. He felt his cock begin to harden and heart beat as he worked his way up to the moment. Yes, you were a lawyer, but the circumstances meant that you were game to react rather abruptly.

A killer and a lawyer in an empty wing, just after hours - doors shut with no one to hear a scream? It was the perfect scenario for a crime.

“I have something to declare…” he began, and he could barely contain his smile as you raised your brows, mouth slowly falling agape and body subtly recoiling. As if in a trance, you lowered your head further, the eye contact so intense that you could feel a tingle throughout each others’ bodies. You were 90% certain he could hear your heart pounding in your chest.

“…Go on,”

“I think you know what it is,” 

With a slow blink, as you tried to ground yourself. You could’ve vomited. In your eyes, murder was a grey area in the realm of self defence, but children were always off limits. 

He didn’t even seem to care. He seemed amused, actually. 

“O-Okay,” you whispered, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to revisit this with fresh eyes in the morning —“

You were so painfully uncomfortable, and yet part of you was aroused. Perhaps it was because you’d never encountered an actual killer, or it was because you were incredibly aware of the blatant fantasy being played out from both sides. He was a wolf; a hunter, bigger and stronger than you and waiting to ravish you like prey. 

You were dedicated to holding up the law, fighting for what was fair like a good girl, but sometimes good girls needed to be ravished.

“— What do you think, Miss L/N?” he teased, standing up to match you. “Am I a dead man?”

“No…” you whispered. “I’m going to do what I can…”

“Good,” he smiled, backing away from the desk, the outline of his bulge illuminated from the dimming lights. “That’s why I chose you,”

You gave an awkward nod, haphazardly rushing to hold the door open for him to leave. You held your head down as he passed, and squeezed your eyes shut as you realised he’d stopped in front of you. 

Your bodies were painfully close in the tiny doorway. William grinned, and he knew he had you from the moment you looked up at him through your lashes.

“…Are you going to kill me?”

“Not unless you want me to,”

Your lips were on each other in a heartbeat, your hands immediately finding the door and slamming it shut before focusing your attention on the killer at your feet. He wasted no time in effortlessly hoisting you up around his waist, his large hands firm on your hips and thighs as he held you steady, stumbling to find your desk. You returned the favour by holding onto his neck and beginning to grind yourself against his cock, your skirt riding up in the process.

“I bet you’re real happy I walked through those doors, aren’t you?” He teased. “How long have you been waiting for a fucked up guy like me, hmm?” he said, crudely sticking his fingers inside your panties as he placed you on the desk. He grunted at the sensation of your wet heat, hungry as he stuck a third finger inside without warning or hesitation. They were lithe and calloused, and seemed to hit your core immediately upon penetration, causing you to let out a moan. 

“I never –” you began, barely unable to form a sentence. “This is nothing —” you insisted, lips leaving his own as you began to fumble with his belt, cupping him through his pants. He was painfully hard. And big. Bigger than most guys your age. “— Just a formality,”

William scoffed, unable to hide his lascivious smile as he began pumping in and out of you, your lips swallowing him to just below his knuckles. Against the creaking of the desk and desperate pants you could hear the wet sound of your juices coating his fingers, sticky and copious as his motions continued; rough yet controlled. 

To think, they were the same hands that had murdered all those kids…

You’d taken out his cock now and was massaging the organ in your hands, causing him to hollow out his cheeks, sighing at the contact. It was over five inches, and considerably thick, with a long blue vein running along its underside. As you stroked him, a healthy secretion of precum coated your fingers, indirectly lubing him up further. His thrusts were lazy but needy as he fucked your hand, and with every movement you worked together to guide his cock to your entrance, his bulging tip teasing your folds.

“Fuck,” he whispered, throwing his head back. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you? Naughty girl, you know this goes against your ‘ethics’...” he teased again, and you could barely formulate an answer as his body was now almost completely on top of yours, your back arching as you stabilised yourself with your free hand on the desk.

He chuckled, reaching down to grip the base of his cock as he lined himself at your entrance. For a moment your hands touched, and the excessive hairs and slight wrinkles reminded you of just how much older he was.

“Fuck ethics,” you moaned, and his grin deepened, to the point he was baring teeth. You couldn’t take it anymore, and you were beginning to lose your grip on your panties as you held them to the side.

Next time he should just rip them off.

“William…” you moaned. “Please…”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he laughed, and thrust himself into you, rutting into you like a rabbit. To him the sensation was euphoric, it had been a long time since he’d fucked a fresh pussy, and admittedly his wife was getting rather stale. You were so tight and melded perfectly around him, but most of all you were eager, even if your morals were blatantly backwards. 

William’s cock filled you completely, repeatedly hitting the untouched crevices of your cunt that you hadn’t even known existed. He was big, skilled and oh-so painfully perfect - Perfectly bad for you. You could get disbarred, your public reputation ruined, much like the narrative of the man inside you - but with every thrust that drew deeper into your pussy and lustful kiss to your neck and lips none of it seemed to matter. His large hands cupped your sides, moving between your breasts and thighs as he groped and massaged; most importantly making sure that you remained spread wide and available for him as his clothed thighs hit against yours repeatedly. You were high; so high that you barely acknowledged the wedding ring on his left finger, even if you could feel it through the thin material of your blouse.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunted. “I haven’t fucked a pussy like this in ages. You and I are gonna make such a good team — Ugh — I knew there was a reason I chose you…”

“Fuck…” you groaned. “W-William…”

“Does it bother you that I hurt those kids?” he snarled, beginning to feel his stomach knot up. 

You were too lost in your ecstasy to answer. 

Did it?

“…Tut, tut. You said you wouldn’t judge me, sweetheart,” he chided. “We were getting along so well…”

“We are. I’m gonna help you,” you said determinedly, eyes unable to shift from his own. You were close.

“I know you are,” he hummed, letting out an intermittent groan as he shut his eyes. “You have no choice. You’re just as guilty as me,”

There was something about those words that immediately sent you over the edge, squeezing your eyes shut and letting out a pornographic moan as you came, your body twinging as the man held your thighs apart, making sure you felt every inch of your shared ecstasy. William had barely found it in him to pull out on time, his heavy load painting a mess on your panties and thighs, but leaving a small trail of cum along the outer lips of your pussy, a subtle but telling reminder of what had happened.

Fixing your crumpled shirt and skirt, you adjusted yourself before hopping off of the desk, hands clasped in front of you. 

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. You were surprised it wasn’t sore from your incessant moans. “I’d like to see you at the same time tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

@yellowbunnydreams @lonelyaxolotl13

#florence writes!! #william afton x reader #william afton x reader smut #william afton smut #steve raglan x reader #florence_nomachine #steve raglan smut

[thewritingofamadwoman]

The Text

Roy Kent has my heart (and so does Brett Goldstein). This is my first time writing for him so be gentle 😂

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Fluff, Roy’s potty mouth, allusions to sexy times (because I can’t write smut to save my life) and a cheesy joke brought to you by none other than Ted Lasso himself.

Enjoy!

“Okay boys, just remember that the photoshoot will be held during training on the pitch. Just act natural and don’t let the camera’s distract you,” I said, smiling at the team. Keeley clapped her hands, unable to keep her excitement at bay.

“You’re all going to look so fucking cool!” She squealed and the team beamed back; some smiling while others blushed at her praise. AFC Richmond was selected to be the featured football team in a new magazine spread honoring the Premier League. Keeley pulled some strings with her connections from her firm KJPR while I worked hard to call in a few favors from my years as the team’s social media strategist to get The Greyhounds considered for the shoot. And after months of phone calls and meetings, it finally paid off when the magazine’s PR group reached out to us earlier this week.

As luck would have it, today was the perfect day for a photoshoot; the sun was out, and the guys were pumped.

Coach Lasso clapped his hands and spoke up. “Alright fellas, you heard the ladies. Let’s go out there and show these snowmen what we’re made of!”

Everyone in the room went quiet, silently confused by Ted’s attempt at a joke.

“You know, because the magazines’ called “The Blizzard”. Like blizzard…? Snowmen…? Oh alright whatever, let’s just go out there and look good!” Ted waved, the team’s earlier exuberance returning as they headed out the door to the pitch.

I heard a voice call my name and turned to find Nate giving me a shy smile.

“Uhh, are the, um, are we as coaches going to be photographed as well?” He asked, pointing to himself, and then to the side where Ted, Beard and Roy stood. I nodded and Keeley spoke up.

“Oh of course! Can’t have a team photoshoot without its four fearless leaders!”

“You go out there as you would and just let the boys have at it. Just promise me you won’t punch any of the photographers if they annoy you,” I said the last part while looking directly at one particular coach. Roy crossed his arms and shook his head, speaking up immediately.

“I make no such promise.”

His gruff voice had me biting back a smile as I rolled my eyes in response.

“Don’t you dare be rude them, Roy Kent. Keeley and I have been working towards this moment for months. You get in trouble, you’re dealing with me, got it?” I said, trying my best to remain stern as I looked at him. Roy’s eyebrow twitched and I could see the amusement in his eyes before he nodded reluctantly, a growl accompanying the movement.

“Wonderful! Now let’s go!” Keeley practically floated out of the room in excitement while the rest of us filed out. My phone buzzed in my pocket by the time Keeley and I sat down in the stands, and I pulled it out to find a very much expected text message.

Roy-O

You are VERY sexy when you try to be stern ;)

I laughed to myself before shooting back a response.

Oh you liked that, did you?

But I’m serious, please don’t punch anyone

I didn’t even get the chance to put my phone away before another text came in

Roy-O

Why, gonna punish me if I do? ;)

I bit my lip as my eyes immediately looked over to where Roy stood. His phone was in his hand as he yelled at Jamie Tartt from across the field to stop being “a fucking weasel and kick the fucking ball already.” I took in his appearance, the way he stood tall with his arms crossed, phone gripped tightly in one hand. The way his biceps were accented perfectly by his black t-shirt. Roy Kent looked delectable in every way. I smiled to myself and decided to play along.

Maybe I will.

You fuck this photoshoot up for me and you won’t be getting ANY of this tonight…

<insert picture>

I put my phone on my lap and looked down at the pitch, waiting for Roy to get the text. He seemed preoccupied with training so I picked my phone back up to respond to a few emails while I waited for him to continue our little game. Suddenly, a far away cry of “watch it, Coach!!” sounded from across the pitch, and before I could even register what was happening, Roy was smacked right in the face by a rouge football. The resounding smack of the ball was so loud that everyone cringed unanimously.

“Oh fuck!” Keeley exclaimed at the same time I gasped, both of us standing up and watching on as Ted and the team rushed to Roy, who let out the loudest FUCK I think I have ever heard him exclaim.

“Tartt you FUCKING CUNT!” Roy yelled, grabbing his nose and bending forward. Jamie, whose panic manifested in nervous giggles, tried his best to apologize.

“I’m SO sorry Coach, but I did try to warn you, twice!”

Roy groaned again and glared at the player before pulling his hand back and looking down. Even from my spot on the stands I could see the distinctly recognizable color of blood on Roy’s hand.

Roy seethed at the sight and growled at Jamie.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Jamie backed up in panic and both Ted and Beard jumped in to pull Roy back by his arms to stop him from advancing towards the striker. After a few moments, Roy pulled out of their grasps and turned, making his way back inside Nelson Road, probably to get the resident to check out his nose.

“That looks like it fucking hurt,” Keeley said, sitting back down.

“He’s not going to let Jamie off the hook for this one. He’s gonna make him do double drills at 4am for weeks,” I sighed.

“You gonna go check on lover boy?” She teased, and I smiled, already making my way down the steps.

“You know it. I’ll catch you later babes,” I responded back, blowing her a kiss.

By the time I made it inside, I found Roy seated on the physio bench, clutching an ice pack to his nose. The medic had just finished up and smiled at me on his way out, giving me a thumbs up. I walked up to Roy and cooed at him now that we were alone.

“Awww, are you okay love?” I soothed, placing a hand on the wrist holding the ice pack. Roy glared at me and grunted in reply.

“What’s that look for, what did I do?” I said, brows knit in confusion.

“Oh don’t you “what did I do” me. You’re the farthest thing from innocent, sending me that fucking picture.” Roy’s voice lowered and a mischievous smile settled on his face. I’m sure my eyes widened comically as I remembered what I had sent. Roy nodded, pulling the ice pack away.

“Yeah, that’s right. I opened your text and fucking hell, your fucking breasts on display like that in that strip of cloth you call a bra is the reason I got clobbered in the fucking face. How was I supposed to hear Tartt calling out when my only thought was sucking on those fucking perfect tits?”

I cupped my mouth and let out a gasp followed by a small laugh, feeling so bad for having been the reason he was so distracted.

“Oh my god baby, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think…“

Roy cut me off.

“Oh no, you knew exactly what you were doing you minx. C’mere,”

Roy placed the ice pack down onto the side of the physio bed and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me to him. I placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chin, inspecting his nose and face for myself.

“Fuck, Roy I feel horrible. I shouldn’t have sent that photo,” I smiled sheepishly at him. Roy shook his head, schooling his expression to stay stoic but I could see the amusement in his eyes again.

“Don’t you fucking dare apologize for sending that photo. But if you insist, I can think of a few ways you can earn my forgiveness….” He trailed off, his eyebrow raising and a smirk forming on his lips. I smiled back, happy he was okay.

“Well in that case, what if I told you I was wearing that bra you saw in the picture…right now…” I whispered as I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Roy’s chin, cheek, and gently on his nose.

“Fucking hell,” Roy breathed out, pulling me in tighter. I decided to push one more button, just to tease him a tiny bit more.

“Mmhm, and guess what? That bra has matching panties….”

Roy’s eyes closed and he released a deep and long “fuuuuuuuuck” before closing any gaps between us with a searing kiss. When he pulled back, I was sure my lips were as red and swollen as his. I rested my forehead on his before he hopped off the table and we walked back to work before heading back home for all that was promised.

———————-

A few days later, I was seated in my office organizing the next away game details for the team when I received an email from one of my contacts at The Blizzard. Attached were the photos from the training shoot. I was scrolling through the action shots until I stopped at four back to back pictures that had me giggling to myself.

In front of me were four shots of Roy: in the first photo he’s looking down at his phone with a neutral expression. In the second, his eye brows were raised and eyes blown wide. In the third photo, he was smirking at his phone. And finally, in the last photo of the bunch, Roy’s face was obscured by the football that has smacked him dead on. I scrolled back and forth between those four pictures, creating a little boomerang and watching Roy’s face the whole time and laughing hysterically.

I saved the photos to my phone and set the one where he was smirking as my lockscreen, savoring the memory of what ensued that night after that photo was taken.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent fanfiction #Roy Kent x reader insert #roy kent fluff

[charles-eclair16]

Reviving Reputations

Chapter {i} Negotiations

Pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader

Previous | next | series masterlist

" trouble never looked so good damn fine"

" we really can't afford any more scandals Charles! The tape was bad enough and now this!"

Charles cringed at the mention of tape, he couldn't help it. He nodded his head cheeks getting red from embarrassment. It wasn't nice to be scolded like this in front of the whole team but he deserved it. After all the shit the team went through to keep his name clear from the news surrounding him. He tried he really did- he kept a low profile not wanting anymore attention than he was already given. He stayed away from all his social media as Silvia, his PR manager suggested but nothing seemed to work. Everywhere he went he could always hear whispers and people judging him, his name being taken as if it was filth. He knew he needed to make it right so when Silvia called to inform him about a new plan the team had come up with he was ready to do anything.

" I understand and I'm really sorry about all of this guys. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to make it right" Charles looked at everyone, determination clear in his voice. Silvia gave him a firm nod before standing up in the front and commanding everyone's attention.

"so we- I mean the team thinks that the best way to approach this is to make Charles image clean. If we manage to present him as a good focused man who is leaving this behind and moving forward in his life then it will manage to sway the fans in a little positive way and then we will see how to take it forward" Charles nodded. That seemed like a good plan.

"But how do we do that? We can't just say that he's moving on and is starting fresh! That would bring more backlash than positive feedback!" Ian, a member of the PR team asked what Charles wanted to voice out.

"About that we think Charles needs a nice loving relationship to clear it all out. It would give the fans something new to talk about and being a perfect boyfriend will help his image at this point. Like for example look at Gasly! He always looked like a player but now he's loved as a settled boyfriend!" Charles wanted to argue that it wasn't true that his friend wasn't dating for a public image. He knew how much Pierre liked Kika. Before he could say something he was cut off by Fred.

"Is it really the only option? Who would he even date unless he's seeing someone?" Charles shook his head when Fred looked at him questionably. Charles couldn't say that he didn't want to do this, that he hated the idea of faking his emotions and pretending to be in love with a girl he didn't even know. Fred sighed. And Charles dropped his head not being able to see the look of disappointment on Fred's face.

" We tried to look for other options but this will be the most possible way to achieve what we want in terms of Charles image" several of the team members nodded their head in agreement.

"I'll do it" Charles sighed not wanting the team to be in more trouble than they already were. He was sure they had worked over time these past weeks to keep his name out of trouble. He could do this for the team.

"Very nice! Now that it's settled we can end the meeting here! Charles stays back and others can leave!" chairs scrapped back as people got up and left the meeting room.

"here's a file of your girlfriend Charlie! I'm sure you'll get along fine. She's a lovely girl" he caught the thin file Silvia slid towards him. He looked at her shocked- they even had the girl ready? As if seeing his expression Silvia laughed.

" She's an upcoming actress under our branch in New York. She's managed by my friend and when she asked me a favour I knew that it was our chance to make it right, you know mutual benefit!" Silvia chuckled squeezing his arms.

"Oh okay" Charles smiled and shook his head at Silvia. His hands itched to see the file. So his supposed girlfriend is from New York and an actress, he wondered if he had ever seen her in any of the series he watched during the off season. Silvia left the room with a see you later thrown over her shoulder. Charles took a deep breath trying to calm his beating heart. He didn't know why he felt nervous opening the file. His heart beating as if he was sitting in his car looking at the red lights to take off. He slowly opened the file and let out a breath.

She was beautiful. Her beauty captured his attention and refused to let go of it. He knew he was in trouble but trouble never looked so god damn fine.

"Damn. His smile"

You fidget with your fingers, eyes constantly moving towards the glass door of the small dimly lit coffee shop. It was your fault for coming half an hour before the decided meeting time, heart fluttering from the nervousness of this whole situation.

Lia, your manager had called you yesterday to inform you that the contract was finalized and both parties had to meet to go over it to see if anyone had any problems. The whole idea was of Lia who proposed it during a meeting when the production house of the new movie you were signed to demanded some publicity around your name. She felt it was the most safest and convenient way to put you in the eye of the public without it being a scandal in the negative way and when everyone agreed you had no choice but to accept it. As you say in the coffee shop you wondered if it was really the right choice.

The sound of the doors opening caused you to look up. A smile making its way in your face as you saw Lia frantically waving her hands as she explained something to the red haired women beside her. Lia met your gaze and beelined towards you, the woman following her. You hugged Lia and introduced yourself to Silvia, the pr manager of your would be fake boyfriend.

"sorry about Charles! He was held up because of shooting. He'll be here soon!" Silvia apologized as you all ordered drinks. Lia nodded and you watched as they took out their notebooks and laptop.

" We have already drafted a contract. But there are some things which we needed to go through with both of you guys" Silvia said smiling before the ringing of her phone cut off whatever Lia was going to say. Your heart raced as you heard Silvia confirm your location and to hurry inside.

Your eyes snapped to the door for the second time today. You watched as he opened the doors, his white shirt rolled up to his arms,hands running through his hair as he looked around, you looked down when his head turned towards the way you were sitting, cheeks heating up at the thought of getting caught.

You would be lying if you said you were not familiar with him, when Lia gave you the file. You had known the second you opened the file and had seen his picture staring back at you. Charles Leclerc was a beautiful man and a talented driver. You weren't that much of a fan of Formula 1 having been introduced to the sport by your ex-boyfriend who would belittle you if you expressed a little interest saying it wasn't something you would understand. But it was safe to say that you understood and liked to watch it sometimes.

"Charlie! Come!" Silvia waved her hand and he smiled before making his way. She introduced Lia to him.

"Now! Meet Y/N your girlfriend!" Silvia chuckled as she gestured to you. Lia snorted. Well at least she was having fun. You looked up at him, with him being a few inches taller than you. He laughed as he met your gaze. A chuckle left your lips at the bizarre situation.

" well nice to meet you y/n! I'm Charles" he grinned moving to shake your outstretched hand. You shook your head and before you knew it you all were seated around the table as Silvia and Lia briefed about the contract.

" so the duration is one year from next month as you both know...the whole dating scene would be starting after the Australian gp, before that we need you guys to interact a little through social media maybe a like here and there" Lia pointed to the conditions written conditions as she spoke.

"We need you guys to be a little teasing and not in the face of the public because of Charles's situation at the moment. As we agreed y/n would attend few races and Charles would attend few red carpets as your date we would also like to add little dates and appearance in the public without it being an event...so it could look real apart from this we should probably discuss the pda aspect of the relationship" you nodded. You were warned about it beforehand and Lia was right you cannot fake a relationship and make it believable without PDA.

" we don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with" charles spoke up looking at you, his smile reassuring. You nodded and soon the briefing of the contract was finalized and the talk moved towards more basic things with Silvia talking about the restaurant she had visited during the Saudi Arabia GP.

" I uh saw your show the maze! It was very interesting!" You looked up at Charles shocked. It was one of your favourite shows that you've done. It was a murder mystery and your character was a total badass.

"oh! Thank you! I really liked the plot of that show! Sorry but uh I didn't watch the last race though!" You added grimacing. You should have watched it to atleast make conversations.

"no problem! Not a fan?" He asked, a teasing smile on his lips. You shrugged.

"No offence taken! We should probably get to know each other if we are going to make it believable though" he smirked raising his eyebrows.

" yeah sure. Lia did suggest to befriend you if I had to make it easy for the both of us!" You teased.

" we could be friends no problem! But I don't know if it will be easy for you because of my uh situation" his voice turned serious as he spoke. You looked at him as he looked at his drink moving his straw around. You knew of his condition and how the fans were treating him having been informed by Lia.

" I'm sure it would be okay" you assured him.

"Oh! We need to go! We'll be late for the flight! Come on Charles!" Silvia's voice caused both of you to look at her. Charles nodded before he slid his phone towards you, keypad visible on the screen.

"so we could get to know each other" he nudged the phone closer towards you. You smiled before putting your number and calling yours so you could have his number.

"Until next time." Silvia hugged you before she walked ahead with Lia, still talking about small details of the contract. You walked beside Charles after them.

You looked at Charles when you all reached the parking lot. Silvia already sitting inside the car after hugging Lia goodbye. Lia nodded at Charles before telling you that she would be waiting in the car.

"so uh see you later?" It came out as a question rather than a greeting not knowing what to say. He chuckled causing you to look at him.

"Talk to you later!" He grinned winking at you. A grin visible on his face you couldn't help but laugh.

"You should go! Silvia is looking at you from the window" you said as he made no move towards the car. Silvia eyes visible from the small gap where she had rolled down the window to look at the both of you. He nodded before walking towards the car. He looked back at you before getting inside the car, sending a smile your way so big that his eyes crinkled at the corners.

The only thought in your mind. Damn his smile.

_________________•••______________

Let me know your thoughts<3

Taglist-

@ietss

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #fic rec #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl x reader #cl16 #charlesleclerc #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc drabble #charles #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #f1 series #formula1 #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles x reader #charles leclerc x yn

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian had it all figured out, he'd finally move away from PSG after one more year in red and blue, so why did this random woman have to come and ruin everything for him?

Warnings: Kylian being very mildly sexist (for character growth of course<3)

Word Count: 1276

Masterlist

"But you leaked it?"

"No, I didn't."

Kylian's face was a flat line, though with every word she said, his lips inched closer to a frown. His hazel eyes were fixed on her, sat across from him.

"Your team did and given that the main man in your team is your father, I'd say you were well aware it was going to happen."

Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, each strand neatly slicked back. Surely that hurt her head, maybe it restricted blood flow to her brain- maybe that's why she was such a dick!

His life had been perfectly planned out, his career finally making sense, looking like it was going somewhere. Then, the new manager had arrived and so had his stupid, new PR head. What had been wrong with the old head of PR? Nothing! Sure, he was elderly, out of touch, and not very good at his job and his replacement was young and sharp and beautiful and... that wasn't relevant to her work.

How dare she barge in here in her six-inch heels and her tight, tight blouse and tarnish his name? Who even needed heels that high for work?

He was Kylian Mbappé; he'd given everything for this club and for his country and when he'd written that letter all he'd wanted was a peaceful exit from the team. Now, not only the Parisian media but all media in France and worldwide hated him. Maybe the only people who liked him right now were Spanish journalists.

"Kylian, I admire you greatly. You are a brilliant player and I know your worth." Enrique, the coach, said from his seat beside y/n, "So do my superiors and surely you're aware that we really can't let you go on a free transfer."

"I didn't ask to go on a free transfer, I just said I am not willing to extend my contract." he defended.

"But you want to play until the end of the season when your contract runs out, and no team in their right mind would therefore buy you weeks before you become a free agent."

Y/n spoke quickly yet clearly, sure in her words and sure in herself. When she finished, her lips, painted a dark rose, settled in a line, as she blinked once, twice, her long lashes fluttering.

"Last time I checked, dealing with transfers wasn't in your job description," he bit back.

"No, I'm in charge of the team's image which your transfers are really tarnishing, so you've kind of dragged them to my attention yourself."

"I told you, I didn't leak the letter."

"Oh, well if you say you didn't, you must be telling the truth. I will get my goons to slowly torture each of your teammates until one of them admits to the crime."

Her composed watch didn't shift from him. He glared at her. If looks could kill.

"That won't be necessary, Miss Briggs. Kylian, we have two options here." Enrique said, calmly, "Option one, you and your posse agree to start negotiations with us for a contract extension and-"

"I choose option two." Kylian cut in, bluntly, scowling at the entire room.

"Great. So, option two, we'll exclude you from the squad for the Japan tour and you can spend the Summer training with the loft." Enrique declared, standing up and gathering his files from the desk, "Great talk. Very productive."

As the coach exited, his team leaving with him, Kylian sat there dumbfounded. The only person who remained in the room was y/n, as she jotted something down in her notebook. Finishing writing, she snapped the cover shut and slotted her pen into her blouse's chest pocket. His eyes followed it. Glancing up, she watched him watching her for a couple of seconds before she stood up.

"So, that's it, I'm just fucking cut from the squad?" he seethed.

She nodded, easily humming, "Mhm. What did you expect?"

"You know I love this club. You and Enrique can't just march in here and bench me. I'm Kylian Mbappé."

"I didn't bench you." she scoffed, starting for the door.

"Please, I don't know who you are but for some reason, Enrique listens to what you say and I know you had a hand in this. I don't know why he trusts your opinions since you don't even know football, but stay out of my way, okay?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around slowly, her mouth slightly agape, though her lips curled up ever so slightly in a way that told him he was a dead man walking.

"Luis respects what I say because I'm good at my job. I know that you're not used to working alongside women and maybe your fragile ego can't handle being booted out of the squad but you brought this on yourself, Mbappé. I don't work for you or Luis, I work for Paris Saint-Germain and I'll do what's best for the club. So, here's my advice, from one master of their field to another, get your shit together and sign a new contract or come September time you might find yourself at a club you like a whole lot less than this one. How does the Qatari league sound? Your whole internalised chauvinism thing will go over a treat there. Like one of the locals already!"

With that, she stormed out of the door, her hips swaying, and he was truly alone in the huge meeting room. Hesitantly, he pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a Google search: chauvinism definition.

chauvinism: excessive or prejudiced support for one's own cause or group, in particular male prejudice against women

He frowned, surely that was a bit far. He didn't hate her because she was a woman. He hated her because she was ruining his life. That had nothing to do with her gender. Well, maybe his burning desire for her contributed to his hatred. He'd never hated the old head of PR this much and maybe that was because he was old and wrinkled and didn't wear blouses that tight or skirts that tight or watch him with eyes like that and-

No, he wasn't attracted to her. Well, not like that. Yes, she was a very attractive woman, that was a fact, but he knew lots of attractive women. He wasn't attracted to her, he could just appreciate that she was, well, attractive and- God, what was he doing? Why were his thoughts spiralling like this, perv?

Maybe he just hated her because she was loud and arrogant and seemed to think Kylian was the enemy and that in vanquishing him, she was doing Paris, nay France, a great service. Noble warrior.

Well, she'd made a big mistake.

Maybe journalists and fans would turn against him for a couple of weeks, caught up in the excitement of his gripping transfer saga. That didn't matter because at the end of the day, he was Kylian Mbappé. He'd lead France to that trophy in 2018, even if he'd been a teenager, and he'd scored three goals and a fucking penalty in the world cup final after that. The country wouldn't turn against him for long, that was for sure.

She'd tried to turn him into the enemy but all she'd really done was make the biggest mistake of all. She'd made herself his enemy, and she'd sorely regret that.

Groaning, he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as he did and stormed out of the meeting room. He wasn't leaving and he wasn't signing that new contract. Nobody could make him: not Enrique, not Al-Khelaifi, and most certainly not y/n.

Masterlist Chapter 2

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappé #mbappé #mbappe #football #psg #paris saint germain #kylian x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian #kylian mbappe x reader #y/n #equipe de france #footballer

[sea-owl]

Ok I've thought about which spouse came from what districts.

All notes come from the personal file of Victor Danbury when asked which victors could be trusted to bring into the rebellion.

Simon: Simon is a career tribute from District 1. He volunteered for his games at 18, thinking this was the only way his life was ever supposed to go due to his father demanding Simon bring honor to the Basset name. His mentor, even when he was still training, was Victor Agatha Danbury. He quickly became disillusioned during the games after his first kill but knew he had to kill or be killed, and he had unfinished businesses with his father. So he powered through, trying to make the other tributes deaths as quickly as possible. After he vowed to bring as many tributes back alive as he could and regularly joined Victor Danbury as a mentor.

Kate: Kate's from District 8. She volunteered for her games at 18, thinking either she'll get her family help by winning or they'll have one less mouth to feed if she didn't. Her weaving skills really helped in the arena with setting traps, and as the capitol liked to say, Kate was too stubborn to die. Kate was pissed when she learned the new set of rules she had to play lest she risk her family. For years, Kate played the perfect victor in public. It relaxed a little when Edwina turned 19 and no longer eligible for the games, but by then, Kate didn't really know how to act otherwise.

Sophie: Sophie is from District 6. Due to everything being transported through District 6, there is a high presence of peacekeepers there. Sophie's father was a high-ranking peace keeper and her mother from the districts. Her father did kind of take her in but would never dare to claim her. Any peace keepers would never say the words outloud when they have district kids. Her stepmother wanted to turn Sophie into an Avox but had to settle into forcing Sophie to take out so much tesserae it was only a matter of time before she was reaped at 17. Sophie actually got a lot of sponsors during her games because she looked so much like a Capitol child they couldn't bear to let her die in the games. This greatly helped her outlast the other tributes. One of the items she got, that she managed to sneak out had the initials PR on them and a note that said for my sister.

Penelope: Penelope is also a career from District 4, but you would never guess she was. In my personal headcanon, while District 4 is a career district, they don't actively try to volunteer for the games like Districts 1 and 2 with a few exceptions. Penelope is not one of those exceptions and was reaped at 16. She won her games by using her ability to go unnoticed to collect information on other tributes in the training center and in the arena. Using that information, she would leave messages that would leave alliances in shambles and other tributes paranoid while she hid. She's handy with a knife, particularly a diver's knife, and when she had to use it to off other tributes while she distracted them with the information she gathered.

Phillip: Phillip is from District 7 and repeaedat 16. He had actually lost his older brother, George, who died in the blood bath during Michael's games. The Capitol liked to say Phillip was George's ghost come back to finish business. As a boy, Phillip spent a lot of time in the woods to hide from his father, and he got to know the plants very well. He knew which were safe and which were poisoned. This played into his games when the gamemakers left a bunch of poisonous plants in the arena and never told any of the tributes. Phillip used these plants to poison other tributes water and coat his weapon with them.

Michael: Michael is a career from District 2. He was from one of the more well-off families in two, taken in by his uncle after his father's death. Realistically, he and his cousin John had the lowest chances of being reaped. But at 18, Michael volunteered for the games when his 17 year old cousin John was reaped. Michael played it off that it was his role as a spare relative, and it's not like this hasn't happened before among the wealthy families in the districts. Michael played into his charm during the games. Often charming other tributes into alliances and then killing them.

Gareth: Gareth is also a career from District 1 and at 17 he "volunteered" for his games. In reality he was forced and it was more of a punishment and a reminder towards Victor Danbury that even her precious grandson can be put into the arena. Simon was now Gareth's mentor. The Capitol ate up the legacy tribute bit Gareth played. Grandson to a beloved victor and the student to another, instant fan favorite.

Lucy: District 8 and repeaed at 16. Lucy is trying to make the best of her situation said well she either dies in that arena or she makes it out and is no longer under her uncles control. Kate is Lucy's mentor and came up with the strategy to have Lucy appear helpless and then secretly take down other tributes in the arena. It was an easy thing for Lucy to do, she's been playing helpless most of her life.

In the order the tributes won their games, Simon, Kate, Michael, Phillip, Sophie Penelope, Gareth, and Lucy. Simon won his games, and 5 years later, Kate won her's. Three years after Kate, Michael won his games. 4 years later Phillip, Sophie, and Penelope won back to back games. Eight years after Penelope's Gareth won his games followed by Lucy's games the next year.

#i had to check my math to make sure i didnt accidentally put some of them in the same games #bridgerton #simon basset #kate sharma #kate sheffield #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #michael stirling #phillip crane #lucy abernathy #gareth st clair #bridgerton spouses #victor spouses #hunger games au

[heyhihellosworld]

𝗢𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁

Rúben Dias x reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Ruben where adamant to keep your relationship out of work but things don't always go according to plan.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst

Notes: First one I post about Ruben but kinda liked it even though it's kinda messy and all over the place.

"Is Y/N in today?"

Lucy shook her head with a crooked grin, trying to bite in a smug smile "She will come in an hour or so" she proceeded to tell the Portuguese who nodded.

"Don't make things up Lucy" he muttered but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh I am surely not Mr Dias" she smiled back, sitting back on her desk chair as he straightened up "Well, have a good day" he mumbled before hurrying up the stairs.

You knew you were late as you rushed through the entrance of the building, out of breath and stressed out.

"A certain someone asked for you this morning" Lucy grinned as you stopped at her reception desk. Hands full of your working bag, gym bag and files that you needed to go through after failed attempts at doing it during the weekend.

"Who?" you questioned, putting the bags down on the ground as you breathed heavily, being late to work was a bad habit but it did make your fitness better.

"Who do you think?" Lucy chuckled, folding her arms over her chest like it was the most obvious answer.

"Uh-uh Ruben?"

"Ding ding ding" she grinned, tapping her finger on the desk in tact with the sounds she did.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the little smile that tugged at your mouth. "Don't give me that look"

"I'm not giving you anything I am just asking you a question and pointing out something obvious"

You shook your head, warning her to continue. "I'm gonna go work, see you for lunch?" you hummed, picking up your bags and starting of to the stairs while she laughed at you "Don't try to hide the truth!" she shouted tempting you to flick her off behind your back but you held back and settled in your office. Putting the bags on the small chair by the door before settling in the spacey room which you proudly called your office.

Working as a PR manager for Manchester City had been a dream so far. Only being on the post for a month short you still had a lot to adjust to and a lot to learn but it had all been going great so far. Finding new friends by the staff and also befriending a few of the players. It was your dream job and landing it at your age was a dream in itself.

You spent the morning working through files of different events and matches. Writing player profiles and interview-templates.

The clock was about eleven when a knock made you stop and welcome the person inside.

"It's open" The door shot open and Ruben appeared, his small smile and two coffee cups in his hands making you smile widely.

"Hi, I know it's pretty late but thought you might want some coffee" You couldn't help but smile foolishly big as the Portuguese sat down the coffee at your desk. "Thank you Ruben, it's very nice" "So.... what are you doing?" he questioned, peeking over your shoulder to get a look at your files.

"Well, right now I am writing some files for Nick to pass on to Lucy and Pep regarding the Christmas event and this is your player profile template" "Wow okay, didn't really get that.. wait, that's mine?"

"Mhm"

"What does it say?" he questioned and you chuckled at him, turning to look at him briefly before opening the file up to full screen, showing him the template.

"It's basically empty. I'm gonna have to go around and fill in this information later on, some of it will probably be filmed and all but I have just filled in the basics so far, like your name, birthday, birthplace and so on"

"Mhm" he hued as his eyes scanned the document. He looked ridicolously good regardless what he was doing, it was beginning to become almost a little bit annoying, like how could someone be so beutidul only doing something so simple as reading.

"Are you supposed to know my favorite movie?" he grinned at you, meeting your eyes. "Well I don't know Mr Diaz, are you supposed to know how I look naked? I don't think so but still you do" you mused back, grinning at him as he huffed. His hands rested on the desk, next to you as he leant forward, head tiling to the left to watch you.

"Don't put those images in my head" "You are not getting anything here, it's workspace" you muttered, turning back to your computer and continuing filling in some information in his profile.

"Favorite snack?

"Isn't this supposed to be filmed?" he questioned, "Well maybe but I should start posting this before we can even proceed with the filming so I need to get a few done before, well most of them plus these are not great interview questions"

Ruben hummed, reading through the page now open on your screen as you were thinking.

"Is Jack still here?"

Ruben tilted his head and tutted in disapproval "why would you want him?" You couldn't help but to chuckle at him "Because I want to post his profile?" "Why not mine?"

"Well because I think it would be better to post his first. He is a very popular player and his transfer was a really big publicity thing so I feel like it would get attention to the series of profiles that will occur"

"Post mine first" he grumbled, shaking his head at you while you chuckled "Come on, let me do my work and go find Jack for me"

"I will not"

"Okay, fine. Then I will go myself" you said, standing up from the chair and walking around the table, looking over your shoulder to smirk at his grumpy expression.

"Stop" he grunted as you reached the door, you stopped and turned to him with a smirk. "What? Can't I do my job?" you teased but he only shook his head at you, beckoning you over to him. "You can but right now you can not go and look for Jack" "Why not?" You laughed but still walking to him until you stood chest to chest.

His eyes had that fire they always held when he was in the mood but you had been strict in your rule that no sexual acts where gonna take place at work.

You had already broken that rule twice, once in the changing room after a red-card and another time in the media room after a dinner party.

But you were still adamant on trying to keep it as much as possible. "You shouldn't be so bratty" he murmured. You looked up at him with a chuckle "I am not bratty Ruben, I am trying to do my work and I think Jack is a great player to start with for the profiles and people love him. He is hot, strong and a great player" you teased.

He grunted at that, pushing you against the desk. "Don't stand here and say Jack is hot or you will have a problem"

"Hmm" you hummed as response, feigning thinking. "He is" "Stop"

You couldn't help but to chuckle at him as you patted his chest reassuringly.

Ruben didn't find it funny though. Grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up on the table, standing in-between your thighs and pressing up against you.

"You say one more thing and you will be in trouble" he hissed, pressing his fingers into your thighs. You hummed slightly mockingly, sticking your tongue out from the corner of your lips with a smirk on your face.

"You're just such a brat sometimes" he muttered, pushing your skirt up until it pooled around your waist. He roughly pulled your legs apart and pushed his hand into your panties. You let out a gasp at the rough treatment but you loved it.

Ruben stood with his back against the door, blocking what he was doing with his fingers from any intruders.

"Gonna make you cum in your office and then maybe you will stop being such a brat and maybe stop talking about fucking Jack" His fingers started to rub at your clit. You bit your lip tightly, trying to conceal any sounds that threatened to come out.

Two of his fingers plunged into you starting to pump furiously and making it impossible to stay quiet.

"Ruben" you whined, begging him to slow down. Pressing your face into his chest to try to conceal your moans and whines when he didn't. "Please stop. I can't keep quite" you whined, rocking against his hand.

"Try harder Gathina" he murmured against the shell of your ear, his hot breath trailing down your neck.

He switched between slamming them in and out of you and hooking them against your spot, his thumb never leaving your clit. It felt electric and you knew you would be close within minutes.

Your legs started to shake as you neared your orgasm, the sounds being louder and louder and in the end even Ruben decided it was too much, trying to muffle them with kisses. Swallowing all of your sounds. "You're so close aren't you" he smirked at you chuckling as all you could do was nod.

Just as you were right there a knock echoed through the room before the door swung open. Ruben detached his mouth from yours in shock making you let out a loud moan as you were so so so close to orgasm. Desperately trying to move away from his fingers as you heard the door open.

"Oi! What the fuck!" Jack screeched out quickly exiting the office and closing the door, standing outside the door, waiting until you were ready.

"Ruben stop!" you whined but he continued, only a few more pumps of his fingers was all you needed to release biting your lips so hard they almost bled to not moan too loud for Jack's ears.

You tried to calm down, get your breathing under control and when you did you panicked. "Ruben what the fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" You whined, watching as he licked his fingers clean before placing his hands on your shoulders to calm you down.

"Calm down y/n it was only Jack it's okay" "It's not okay! You are not gonna fired for this but I am!" You argued, gathering your bag and computer before hurrying out of the door. ignoring Rubens call of your name.

You opened the door to find Jack scratching his neck but a grin plastered on his face. You turned to him, pointing a finger at him "One word about this Grealish, and i'm talking about anything. One fucking word and you are dead"

Jack's eyes wiedened as you stormed off down the halls.

He whistled as he walked into the office where Ruben still stood, closing the door behind him.

"Soooo" Jack chuckled, pursing his lips at his teammate who mirrored his smile and chuckle. "What did I interrupt" "Nothing" Ruben hummed, shaking his head. "Nothing pft, that's bullshit you were fingering her on her office desk!" Jack burst, eyes wide and voice high.

"Okay okay, but seriously. You cannot say anything to anybody. If you do she can honestly loose her job"

"Hey, I won't but if you wanna keep it a secret ya know, maybe don't finger her in the office" he advised, walking towards the door. "Tell her I will meet her tomorrow and talk about the module she have done" he tilled, grinning as he walked out of the door.

Ruben sighed, taking the spare key from the drawer and locking the door behind him as he made his way down the stair. He was done for the morning, having a break until three when training was taking place again. "Hey Lucy have you seen y/n?" he questioned as he walked down the stairs.

Lucy looked up at the man, a slightly nervous look on her face "Uh, she, I"

"Lucy" Ruben deadpanned, knowing she knew exactly where you were.

"She just left home but she didn't want me to tell you that"

Ruben sighed "Thank you Lucy, I won't tell on you"

She nodded in appreciation as he quickly walked towards his car.

--

When Ruben unlocked the door to your apartment you were sitting on the sofa, lazy watching tv as you worked with your files. You knew who it was the second you heard the lock rustle.

"I don't want any visitors" You shouted towards the hallway but you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your mouth. The time on your sofa had made you calm down slightly, knowing Jack would never tell on you.

"Shut up" Ruben chuckled, stopping in the doorway to look at you, his arm resting against the frame and a crooked grin on his face. "Sorry for running" you hummed, settling your computer aside as he approached you. Leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't risk your job like that"

"Well I appreciate that but it's not like I didn't willingly spread my legs for you" you hummed jokingly. "Well no but still" Ruben smiled, settling down next to you on the sofa.

"It's all okay, we just need to talk about a solution. I don't wanna have to hide us forever"

"We will find a solution" he nodded in agreement, kissing your lips again, just as soft and loving.

#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fanfiction #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #football imagine #footballer x reader

[margareth-lv]

https://corumproperty.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/HomeReport-31.pdf

OMG, poor Anon 🤦🏻‍♀️ Is on your side a simple file in PDF a proof of everlasting, eternal love?

Or you’re coming just for some legal advice?

All right then. I'm ready to provide you with a professional legal advice, even though my Co-Believer @marciabalfe has already explained the complexity of this case.

👩🏻‍⚖️

First of all, if you want to find out who owns land or property in Scotland, you can access Registers of Scotland's registers.

❗️

So, your great .pdf file (by the way, I sincerely appreciate the time you spent sending me that information!) is not the official registration certificate.

Now, what information is given in your dossier?

All right. Let's run it again.

This report has been prepared for the purposes and use of the person named on the report.

Is your name Tony, Anon? Aka 🧛🏻‍♂️?

Because I don’t think that your name is Caitríona, Caitríona Balfe? But maybe I'm wrong. Please, correct me if I'm wrong. I will be obliged.

So where did you get this .pdf file? What I mean is, who gave it to you? Which PR department? Or is it top secret information? Why the information leaked out now?  And what is the point of that? I mean what's the goal? And finally, who would benefit from this? ❓

Listen, if you think  I seem a lot more interested in asking questions than answering them, I would like to quote a classical Roman legal saying, phrase found in Seneca's Medea : is fecit, cui prodest.

Done by the one who profits from it. Does that passage make you think of anything? 💁🏻‍♀️

But why don't we get back to your proof of everlasting, eternal love. So who owns the property according to the content of your .pdf file?

✍🏻

Can you tell who signed the report?

❓ So what were you trying to prove by sending me this file?

What happens when we raid  the records of Scotland's Land Information Service?

Surprisingly your provocation had failed.

But I am greeting you sincerely, Dear Anon. Kisses and hugs.

Useful sources:

[June 16, 2023]

[lets-try-some-writing]

I’ve been meaning to send this request for a while now, but I let my desire for a seemingly nonexistent “perfect” moment get in the way. 😛

Anyway, your take on the Autobots’ names and their meanings is still one of my favorite posts of yours. I’ve come up with one or two meanings of my own for a couple of the characters, but I’m curious about what you think the meanings of the Decepticons’ names would/should be. :)

I've been meaning to get to this forever. Sorry this took me an eternity and a half to get around to writing for! Hope you like it!

Decepticons and their Names

Just like the Autobots, the Decepticons developed alternate names to keep their true names secret while still hinting at it. They didn't bother trying to appear more human or adjust their body language in any meaningful way. They simply never saw the need to comply with human naming conventions. However this does not mean that their true names aren't known to anyone.

Soundwave knows just about every bot's true name. It was part of procedure when it came to joining high command. A Decepticon couldn't rise through the ranks if they weren't willing to give Soundwave their true designation for security reasons. And while not the most well received of moves, it did end up keeping quite a few revolts from happening with the perpetrators true name on the line.

Soundwave however is not a mech who would abuse what power he has been given. As such, while he knows the names, he does not use them against the bot whom the designation belongs to unless absolutely necessary. Still there are times when he needs to reconfirm designations and he takes great care of them.

Megatron's true designation is long, a testament to his age and a show of his wisdom. His name has changed greatly over the millennia, but core features of it always remain even through every alteration. His name when translated into human language is roughly akin to [Resilient-Spark-Defiant-Fighter-Silver-Tongued-Truth-Speaker-Seeker-of-Change-Sword-of-Vengance]. It is as shortened a version of his designation that can be managed. If his whole name was written out, it would rival Optimus's in length. When spoken aloud his name sounds like a long forgotten chant, one whispering of times long gone all while the grinding of gears echoed quietly amidst it.

Shockwave's designation is an odd one that contradicts itself over and over again due to the changes he underwent on the Council's orders. Its almost painful to look at when written simply because of how unpleasant it is in its contradictions. His true designation is so unsettling to look at that Soundwave has put it away and refuses to even so much as glance at it until it comes time to check his files. The name comes out to be something along the lines of [Kind-Spark-Empty-Vessel-Hopeful-Light-Bringer-Endless-Void-of-Knowledge]. When spoke aloud it is both lovely to hear and painful for the audio receptors. It sounds like the humming of a spark within its chassis combined with the gentle whistle of wind, but is contradicted by the dull and toneless notes of steady clicking and grinding that nearly cancel the musical qualities out entirely.

Starscream's is surprisingly lovely and holds greater meaning than one would expect. Starscream was after all, not always a traitorous glitch fond of cowardly retreats and greed. Once, long ago Starscream was a noble leader for his people, doing everything in his power to protect them only to at some point lose himself along the way. His name comes out to be [Guardian-Star-Guiding-Beacon-Swift-Lord-of-the-Skies-Radiant-Jewel]. Starscream has always taken great pride in his true designation and has never once uttered it aloud, not for anyone. Even when giving his designation to Soundwave, he merely wrote it down and did not speak at all. However based on what can be gathered, if it was to be spoken aloud it would sound a great deal like the swaying of trees, the chiming of bells, and the constant thrum of a jet engine preparing for takeoff.

Knockout's designation is odd considering his personality, but Soundwave has always assumed that it is simply a matter of the medic having changed over his lifetime. However even with that in mind, there are still bits and pieces that apply to the persona Knockout presents. His designation translates into something similar to [True-Sighted-Spinner-of-Dreams-Faceted-Child-of-Visonaries-Bright-Sparked-Healer]. Perhaps his name spoke of an age where things were different for Knockout, a time where he was more hopeful, open, and friendly. But either way, when spoken aloud his name sounds like the distant trickling of raindrops on a tin sheet, the swaying of tall grass amid a storm, and the crackling of distant thunder all soothed by the gentle patter of stones down a hill.

Breakdown's name was by comparison far clearer and easier to see where it came from. His was straightforward, a perfect representation of his character and spoke of his true pureness of spark. His designation almost made Soundwave wonder just what the warrior was doing amid the Decepticon ranks. His name spoke of someone more suited toward the Autobot's ideals of purity, that with his name translating to mean [Warrior-for-Justice-Protector-of-the-Meek-Gentle-Giant-Comforter-Guardian-of-the-Vulnerable]. Even the sound of his name sounds like it should belong to an Autobot, that with it being like that of the quiet humming of a loving parent combined with the war chant of an army preparing to fight for their homeland.

Dreadwing's designation is one that Soundwave has no real opinion on but finds somewhat fascinating due to how it speaks of his character. It is fairly straightforward much like Breadown's, but like all true designations, it is special in its own unique way, even when translated to [Stoic-Watcher-of-Shifting-Tides-Bound-Protector-of-Spark-Shards-Enduring-Warrior]. Its spoken notes are much like the beating of hammers on an anvil accompanied why the bellows of a beast in the deep. However there is a soft undertone of wind rushing past rock, creating a gentle whistling sound. Overall a fascinating mix of sounds and meanings, but not too noteworthy in Soundwave's book.

Then there is Soundwave's name, the one he has not shared with anyone, not even Megatron. His true designation is something he has kept to himself simply because... he hardly remembers it. A true designation should be something a bot always remembers, but with what Soundwave was forged to do, only bits and pieces have stuck over the millennia. It is something that pains him. He wishes he could remember it all, but as he can't he has filled in his name as best as he can using what he does recall, earning him the translated name [Silent-Keeper-of-Knowledge-Custodian-of-the-Dark-in-All-Tireless-Watcher-of-Eternity]. He has not said it aloud, but he guesses that if it was, it would sound a great deal like the near silent murmurings of mecha long dead and the gentle swaying of all sorts of structures. His name would hardly even be capable of being heard if not for the quiet din of a stone falling into water that would echo quietly should his name be said out loud.

So many names, so many meanings, and Soundwave keep them all dutifully.

#maccadam #transformers #decepticons #megatron #soundwave #knockout #dreadwing #shockwave #breakdown #starscream

[sophiebernadotte]

Maybe I need to learn Swedish and immerse myself in all things SRF. Are they generally messy or boring?

Depends on how you define things. I would say they're boring 95% of the time, but then when there's a scandal, it's a scandal

Here are a few highlights:

In 1914, Gustaf V gave a speech to the people in which he opposed the government's politics & called for stronger Armed Forces (side note but it's a well-known fact that Gustaf was very worried about the growing tensions "on the continent" & I mean, the dude was right to be concerned). This led to a political crisis & the last political influence the monarch had was stripped. It's unclear who actually wrote the speech; some speculate it was Victoria since it was very well known that she was unhappy about the fact that she, as Queen, didn't have any real power.

In 1936, a woman named Anna wanted to file for divorce from her husband, Kurt. The reason? Her motivation was that her husband had cheated on her with King Gustaf V. This was during a time when homosexuality was illegal & divorce papers were open to the public, so even the hint that the monarch himself might engage in "homosexual acts"? Unthinkable! Long story short, the Court tried to come to an agreement with Anna & Kurt, but the couple continued to blackmail the Court for more & more money. In 1947, Kurt published a book about the "injustices" he had faced, but the majority of the copies of the book were bought by police. In 1951, after Gustaf V had died, Kurt wrote to the Chancellor of Justice to complain, upon which the Chancellor started an investigation. The investigation found that Kurt's "accusations were largely unfounded, but it was also clear that the Royal Court paid out large sums and took other measures with the apparent aim of silencing him." One year later, the Prosecutor-General charged Kurt & he was sentenced to 8 years in prison for extortion of the Royal Court. The whole thing is now nicknamed The Haijby Affair (after Kurt & Anna's last name) & has even been made into a movie.

In 1945, Prince Carl Johan asked for permission to marry the divorced journalist Kerstin Wijkman. They had met in 1939 & the prince fell head-over-heels for Kerstin, who couldn't give a sh*t about him at first. Gustaf V denied his grandson's request & the Royal Court tried to prevent the wedding from taking place by revoking Wijkmark's passport. When that didn't work, they started pressuring the US embassy, which meant that Carl Johan's cousin Folke Bernadotte was dragged into the whole thing. In the end, the two got married in 1946 & that meant that the Prince from then on was known as Carl Johan Bernadotte.

In the late 1950s, Princess Birgitta did something as controversial (for Swedish royal standards) as continuing her education with upper secondary studies. She studied at the School of Sport and Health Sciences for two years, where she met hockey & football player Sven Tumba. They denied it then, but rumours of a romance between the two swirled. However, decades later, they both wrote about the romance (which lasted for about a year) in their memoirs & Princess Birgitta was interviewed in a documentary about Tumba. Among other things, she reminisced about one time when the tabloids rang the doorbell & she had to hide in the wardrobe for about 10 minutes before Tumba had managed to chase them away.

We have Carl Gustaf's younger years... That man loved & still loves to party. This caused concern during his time as Crown Prince & then at the beginning of his time as monarch. He was seen by many as an immature womanizer of a party prince who, therefore, was unfit to rule. The Social Democrat-led government famously threatened with "We're one penstroke away from a Republic!" (which, if you ask me, was more PR than an actual threat, but then again, this was like 10-20 years before I was born, so...)

Speaking of Carl Gustaf, in 1989, he made the Norwegians angry by criticising their PM & the fact that they allowed seal hunting. He commented: "If Prime Minister Gro Harlem Brundtland cannot take care of the seal problem, how will she be able to take care of the Norwegian people?"

Then there was the praising of Sultan Hassanal Bolikiah in 2004 during a state visit to Brunei (which to be fair, he just did his job & repeated what the Foreign Office told him to say).

In 2008, he caused a national outcry because not only did Prince Carl Philip shoot an elk during the annual royal hunt, but the monarch also decided to voice his opinion on the very sensitive topic of wolf hunting (no, seriously, it's an incredibly sensitive topic & not one to bring up during family dinners). Apart from getting in trouble with the public, Carl Gustaf also got in trouble with his patronage, WWF.

Do I even need to bring up 2010 & "Have you ever visited a strip or sex club?" which caused him to hit a record low in popularity. At least it gave us this iconic meme.

Honourary mention goes to when Prince Daniel (then only Daniel Westling) needed kidney surgery, so Crown Princess Victoria called her "brothers", Crown Prince Haakon & Crown Prince Frederik & was like "Hey, can you guys help me with a thing? Oh yeah, nothing big, just tricking all of the Nordic press so my fiancée can get surgery in peace." So, to cause a distraction, the three went on a trip to the Arctic while Daniel was admitted to the hospital. However... he was spotted by someone; a journalist called up the Court & was like, "I know, I will publish this; just give me a comment." Their ruse was up, so instead of pretending everything was fine & distracting the press so they couldn't publish about what was happening in Stockholm, Victoria spoke about how difficult it was & that she (obviously) was worried but that Haakon & Frederik were very supportive of her & a big help during that trip.

In 2013, just like in 2023, he got into trouble for "not wanting Victoria as heir". During an interview, the reporter asked if he was still upset about the constitutional change, to which he answered: "Of course. I think it's simple. A constitutional law that works retrospectively, that's weird."

In 2014, Princess Madeleine's apartment was renovated. What was supposed to cost 2.5 million SEK ended up costing 6.8 million SEK. Then, in 2018-2019 renovation works started again, which ended up costing around 5 million SEK. A wall between Madeleine's apartment & the apartment next door was going to be taken down & the family wanted a walk-in closet, a new bedroom, a bathroom & a wardrobe (different one from the named walk-in closet, so two wardrobes were on the wishlist). This ended up creating an argument between the National Property Board & the Royal Court, where the former thought Madeleine had "too high standards". The Royal Family didn't end up paying from their own pockets & this story has now become known as the time the Swedish taxpayers paid for Madeleine's walk-in closet.

If you're still reading, thank you & I hope you enjoyed all of this tea!

#swedish royal family #king gustaf v #queen victoria #carl johan bernadotte #folke bernadotte #princess birgitta #sven tumba #king carl xvi gustaf #sultan hassanal bolkiah #prince carl philip #princess madeleine #prince daniel #crown princess victoria #crown prince haakon #crown prince frederik #royal reporting #saga.txt

[lyriumcoloredskies]

Written in the Pages pt.1

Pairing: Bakugo x Villain!Reader WC: 2.8k Summary: In which Bakugo finds himself a little too attached to a certain public nuisance, much to the detriment of his own life. CW: angst, veiled mention of depression, burnout, maladaptive daydreaming, parasocial relationship, lots of cursing, pining, bakugo is a little delulu (but aren't we all?) AN: Also posted on my AO3 under the same name.

You were entirely too likeable.

Maybe it was your attitude – larger than life, with a witty comeback for everything, and that blasé way about you. Maybe was it the killer figure? Your fat fucking hips, a perky juicy little ass, and tig ol' biddies that Bakugo just wanted to smash his face into. 

Every time Bakugo thought about it, he could feel his left temple throb so deeply it threatened to end his entire life right then and there with an aneurysm.

Seven long and hard years grinding his way to the number 2 spot on the Pro-Hero list only for him to be pulled into this stupid cat and mouse game for the last five. You were a messy stain on his perfect record of putting even the most elusive criminals away in jail. Just like that, you managed to land yourself right in the thoughts of Bakugo Katsuki.

24/7, rent fucking free.

At first Katsuki assumed it was his quick temper, fragile ego, and perfectionist attitude rearing its ugly head. He was so sure the obsession would fade as soon as he slapped those cuffs on you and turned you over to the proper authorities. That thought was beaten out of him by the second year of chasing you only to be given the slip every time. Katsuki quickly found himself raging and roaring to go as if he was the same 15 year old boy at UA with a competitive streak a mile wide.

He poured over your files, rewatching clip after clip to see where he went wrong. How many late nights did he spend with Kirishima planning new strategies only to be outwitted yet again? Way too many for his ego to admit. When the third year rolled around, Katsuki tried his best to just move on.

This was fine. Totally fine.

If life had taught him anything it was that some things were not worth pouring energy over. It wasn’t like you were out there committing mass murder, just the occasional bank robbery and public nuisance charge. Determined to turn over a new leaf, and at Kirishima’s insistence, he neatly placed all the case files into a box and pawned it off to his sidekicks.

So, color Bakugo surprised when he found out that you didn’t leave his mind after his little desk clean out.

No, you fucking lingered because YOU were everywhere.

The internet was a disgusting and depraved place. Just like how there were fans dedicated to heroes, villain fans existed too. He was reminded of that fact every time he logged into his TigTog, Tweeter, or PicstaGram to "promote" his socials. Damn his PR manager.

He saw thousands of "thirst posts" from so called "villain simps", whatever the fuck that meant. Bakugo didn’t care and he sure as hell did not want to know. He had to begrudgingly admit that he somewhat understood how you became so infamous.

Though he would adamantly deny it, he wasn’t blind. Every altercation between the two of you meant he sometimes saw you more than his own friends and family. In fact, you were the only woman, aside from his mom and UA friends, that he saw regularly. Even though he was a hero, Bakugo is a hot-blooded man. His eyes wandered and lingered for a little too long to be considered “battle analysis”. He intimately knew the soft curves of your hips and the way you sounded as you panted for air. Images that were burned so deep in his brain that he had to will himself not to go there when he heard your name. 

If Bakugo let himself linger a little too long, his mind would escape from him. While his thoughts ran wild he couldn’t help but think of you. You were something Bakugou knew he would only see once in a lifetime. From your beautiful eyes, shining bright with wit and something of a naughtier nature, to your plump beautiful lips, full and shiny – FUCK.

He hated to admit it, but he loved the way your soft full breasts jiggled in your catsuit as you jumped, avoiding his explosions. How many times had he, like that fucking perverted grape boy, stared at your chest during fights? Only to get distracted just enough for you to slip beyond his grasp. It grated on his ego more than hearing that Deku kept his spot as number one at each Hero Awards Ceremony.

But holy fuck he would readily admit he would crawl on his knees to the gates of heaven if he could even hold you. To love you like you were everything because you were.

If only Bakugo thinks. If only he could hold you. If only he could bury himself deep in your thighs, happily leaving behind air for something sweeter. What Bakugo wouldn’t give to be with you. Sometimes after a hard day, when the dust of every fight was washed off and the night was quiet, the blond’s mind would race. Each thought raking and obsessing over what ifs. What if you had been a hero? What if you two had met in high school. Would you have been attracted to him? What would it be like to come home to you? His child on your hip and stomach round with his second.

Bakugo's thoughts ran through the night, often robbing him of what little sleep he could scrounge up in his busy schedule. He earnestly tried to close his eyes shut, meditating to clear his thoughts. He was desperate for a wink of sleep and yet he couldn’t stop himself from obsessing. 

Every.

Single.

Night.

***

The sleepless nights and long days had been taking a toll on Katsuki and he could tell. Everyone around him could tell. His sidekicks gave him a wide berth, hoping not to get caught in his hair trigger temper. Even understanding and sweet Kirishima had been keeping a distance. The tall red-head could tell something was wrong with his best friend but wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. 

Every call on patrol was another battering to Katsuki’s already aching body. Coupled with the lack of sleep he knew he wasn’t at his best. The blonde’s forearms spasmed and burned when he used his quirk and his temples throbbed after every fight. The pro-hero was in no condition to continue to go out to the field and yet he continued, all in hopes of seeing you.

One day his prayer was answered. A bank robbery in Mustafu had been called in and for the first time in weeks Bakugo perked up. He knew he was utterly fucked when the bank robbery call was what got his blood racing. As he shot off his explosions to get to the 5th St. where the Central Mustafu Bank was located. His mind buzzing with the idea of seeing you again. The adrenaline of using his quirk coupled with the lack of sleep ultimately led to his mistake. The minute he landed at the bank entrance his vermillion eyes darted around the scene, mentally noting the best routes. The blond made a split-second decision and took a hard left to get to the vault. He knew you too well. Bakugo would bet his entire life on that decision.

His bet paid off when the sight of your catsuit clad body rapidly came into view. He was distracted by the way you stood in the bank vault surrounded by the chaos of vault boxes strewn about the marble floor. Your soft perky ass hugged by the unforgiving thick leather material of your catsuit. Your shiny hair framed your face and bounced when you turned to look at him. And fuck – if he could just relive that moment when you flashed him a flirty smile and blew him a kiss. Bakugou's pulse quickened, and it was like time just stopped. His brain turned numb and he momentarily forgot everything. He was fucking stunned. He could hear his pulse roar in his ears, heart threatening to escape his rib cage.

His crimson eyes drank in the sight of you with the ferocity of a man who hadn’t seen water in days. His brain was mush and though he willed his body to move, he found all his limbs were defiant to his will. The number 2 pro-hero was glued to his spot as he watched you stretch out your hands and snap.

He would only watch helplessly as you used your quirk to create a mirror which you slipped into. Outside of the vault the last of your crew executed a swift escape after overwhelming the other heroes that flocked to assist the situation. The blond knew it was all his fault. He was supposed to quickly eliminate the threat at the vault before turning back to offer support to the other heroes. It had all been because he faltered. 

Back at the MightRiot agency Bakugo poked his head into Kirishima’s office letting him know he would be taking the rest of the day off. His fellow pro-hero shot him a worried look which Bakugo pointedly ignored. He didn’t want to get into this. He just needed to get home, wash all the crap from today off him, and take a nice long fucking nap. Of course, was Bakugo given that reprieve? Nope. His failure mocked him when he got home.

He instinctively turned on the TV which had already been on the news station. 

“And it appears that we have some news about yesterday’s burglary. Takeshima, Daichi the board member of Hondo Motor Corporation was the victim of yesterday’s heist. The burglars have stolen just a little over 7 million yen’s worth of precious metals from a vault in Mustafu Central Bank. Pro-hero Dynamight responded to the burglary but was unsuccessful in apprehending the suspects. Let’s go to our official Hero Correspon-“

Bakugou turned off the T.V., and threw the defenseless remote on the coffee table. Hearing those words used to burn a deep ember within Bakugou’s stomach to become a better hero for his community. Now that smoldering ambition turned into hot flames of embarrassment that licked his cheeks and the top of his ears. He didn’t deserve to be called a hero.

His mind was plagued with the insecurities and doubt that had been deep embedded into his psyche since he was a child. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep but Bakugo fucking knew what he would do. Because like clockwork, every day for the last year he had been doing it. He knew that instead of taking a shower and finally giving his body and mind the rest he needed, he would pick up the laptop on his mahogany coffee table. He would pick up from where he left off the other night. He could feel the ice cold feeling of shame settle like lead in his stomach. Despite the shame he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Bakugo wishes he could look back and say he was a better man but he wasn’t. Life after UA had been hard. He had kept his head down, nose to the wheel, grinding through the rankings to achieve his dream. The reality was, Bakugo felt empty. He had thrown away the potential for affection in lieu of achieving his lifelong dream. Now at the top he realized it was lonely. With his dream achieved, what did he have left? He watched as his friends, slowly but surely, find their life partners. Deku and Cheeks were one of the first, quickly confessing to each other right after graduating UA. Kyoka and Momo, Hagakure and Oijiro, the list went on and on. Even Icy-Hot managed to find someone. Then there was him, Dynamight, #2 pro-hero, and all alone. 

“What a fucking joke.” Bakugo thought to himself. His own ambition was his ultimate downfall. It was the reason he woke up every morning to an empty bed and came home to a quiet apartment.

It was too easy to pour himself into his work. It was all he had after all. That’s why he thought nothing of it when he took on the job of taking you down.

He remembers that day clearly. Bakugou received a dossier on the thief who had bested him just a few hours prior. It outlined the basics – your name, height, quirk, etc. and for a while that information was enough. It wasn’t until the 3rd encounter did, he decide to Moogle your villain moniker. The search turned up some promising leads. He skimmed through a couple of news articles before quickly X-ing out of all of them. He couldn’t bear to read another gimmicky copy paste low effort article by some two-bit writer for a pro hero gossip column. 

He soon began looking for alternative sources of information. He turned to social media, hoping to find citizen footage of incidents. Maybe there was an angle he had missed. He quickly fell down a rabbit hole. Bakugo tore through the threads on Readdit detailing your quirk, attacks, and motives. His brain voraciously consuming the content he could find. Like that the obsession switch had been turned on. Every fight and every failure were more fuel to the fire. Bakugo found himself heading home and searching up more and more he could about you. Soon combing over footage of fights to strategize on combat became watching your flexible body contort itself into positions that Bakugo would fucking die to have you in.

Before even the blond himself knew it he began daydreaming of you. Thinking of scenarios to beat you morphed into scenarios of you and him, blissful and in love. The what ifs had taken over Bakugos mind. 

Perhaps if Bakugo had been alone in his pining, he could have been okay. The fire would eventually have burned out. It’s very unfortunate that every time he opened his laptop he found more kindling. 

Since Bakugo was young, he had been a closet romantic. Though he would adamantly deny it, his years at UA had been spent staying up late to finish the latest chapter of Kiss Kiss Fall in Love, his favorite romance novel. His heart twisted and gripped in moments of beautifully written angst, and the teasing lead up to the first kiss had the blond biting his pillow to suppress his shouts of excitement. Bakugo loved love. Despite his prickly exterior he had always dreamed up fantasies about being loved in a way that didn’t need words. His soulmate would just know the right things to say to make him feel better after patrols. She would know what to do and what to say to soothe his raw emotions after everything went wrong. 

When Bakugo met his ideal woman that fateful day 5 years ago, it was the catalyst to his new daily habit. Wake up, work, come home, read fanfics about you. The one woman he couldn’t have was the woman he had built his entire life around. Each fanfic burned his pulse hotter. He found himself in too deep of a pit to climb out of. He found himself ensnared by the words on the page. Each paragraph detailing their love and the tribulations they faced to get there. He found with every word he read, the deeper he fell in love with you. He had already spent lifetimes with you. Some were tragic tales of two people who could never be.

Bakugo’s favorites were the mushy tooth rotting ones with meet cutes. He was utterly in love with the idea of meeting you organically. Colliding outside of a coffee shop only to lock eyes or maybe going into a floral shop only to fall in love with the girl selling the flowers. On hard days Bakugo would indulge himself in a Soulmate AU. Bakugo had experienced it all with you. The saddest thing was, Bakugo knew it wasn’t true. If the mere thought crossed his mind, he knew it would send him spiraling. He pushed it away in favor for his perfectly crafted fantasy. The blond knew this wasn’t healthy but quite frankly he didn’t care at this point.

He was in too deep.

Instead he spent his days teetering on the edge of his reality and the fantasy he built to escape, and on the days he was lucky enough, he would catch a glimpse of you. Boy, did it set his heart ablaze.

He tried to shake you out of his mind by burying himself in work and going on dates with attractive girls. It got old quickly. Because how was some random girl supposed to compare to you? You who was there to comfort Bakugo after the hardest days. You who smiled so brightly as you cheered him on, you who held him so lovingly even after Deku beat him out for the number one spot again. 

Deep down he knew.

#bakugou katsuki #mha #bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #fanfic

[hangmansgbaby]

Royally Pucked O N E

Masterlist

San Diego was beautiful. I had only ever visited on vacation as a child but now, standing outside of my new job and looking at the ocean, I loved it even more.

And the rink! It's gorgeous! Walking in, the awe factor only grows! I'm distracted by the architecture when someone calls my name.

"Dr Thomas!" I turn and see the man walk towards me. He has dirty blonde hair with a slight curl and brown eyes, which is pretty much all I can focus on at the moment.

"Hi." I say as I shake his hand. "And please, Layne is fine."

"Layne, I'm Bradley, Alt captain and Right Wing for the Daggers. They asked me to show you to your office." Bradley smiles, "Plus I figure I could give you a tour along the way."

"A tour would be lovely." I smile and he leads me down a hallway.

"So down here is where you have all the main offices. Operations, general, and PR managers. Farther down are the conference rooms, the press conference room is all the way at the end." Bradley explains as we walk through the lobby of the practice arena. Bradley leads me towards a hallway on the other side of the lobby as he talks. "So what brought you all the way out here from…?"

"Texas, and I just needed a change of scenery." I responded.

"Well there is plenty of that here." Bradley smiles as he opens the door for me. "This is where the team can usually be found. Locker rooms to the right, gym to the left with views of the practice rink. And of course your office is just past and connected to the gym." Bradley turns to face me once we arrive at the door. "Sports tables and equipment are in here and your office is through the door on the back wall."

"Thank you so much, Bradley, really."

"No problem. Oh," Bradley reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and quickly writes something down. "If you need anything just gimme a call or text me, okay? Anything at all."

"I will." I smile. "Thanks again, Bradley."

"Of course, Layne." He replies before walking back into the lobby.

I sigh softly as I enter my office. I glance around, taking a quick inventory of my desk and filing cabinets. The door behind me opens and I turn, expecting to see the assistant who works here, but instead l see an unfamiliar woman. She looks at me for a few seconds before speaking.

"You're the new PT?"

"Yep. That's me." I smile.

"You won't let the boys walk all over you right?" I shake my head and she immediately sighs. "Good! I'm Nat, my husband is Javy. You should have a file on his shoulder injury from last season." My eyes scan my desk to find it third from the top of a stack right in the middle. "Yes that one. He's gonna say he's fine and doesn't need tape or a physical. He's insane, and please tape him." Nat nods before making her way back out.

I laugh as I open her husbands folder. The folder contains a lot of information about what happened and how the healing process has been. The previous PT was pretty thorough on top of the physician's notes.

I'm nearly through the file when I hear voices coming from the PT room and I immediately recognize one that I thought I'd never hear again.

"She talked to the new PT already?"

"I don't even know how she got here so fast!" The other voice exclaims. "She dropped the kids off not even 10 minutes ago, and it's a 30 minute drive from the school!"

"You must be Mr. Machado." I laugh, walking into the room and over to one of the storages. The two men snap their heads up and stare at me like I've grown another head.

"I… uh…" Machado stammers before glancing over his shoulder at the his friend. "Yea, I'm sure you've already spoken to my wife."

"I did and I assured her that you couldn't convince me to not follow doctors orders."

"Dammit." Javy mutters as he hops up onto the table.

"You're screwed, dude." His friend laughs as he sits on another table.

"And you are?" I ask as I start wrapping Javy's shoulder.

"Jake Seresin. I'm captain on the team."

"Jake." I give him a soft smile, lifting up to meet his eyes. They're the same as the ones I looked into last year in Denver.

"Could we chat for a sec?" Jake asks, motioning to my office.

"I'm kinda busy." I laugh, applying some tape to hold the wrap in place.

"Please." Jake almost pleads with me.

I'm about to protest Javy interrupts. "Well this feels great! I think I'm gonna go catch up with the other guys. See ya, Doc." He gives Jake a wink before heading to the exit.

"Alright." I say, returning the supplies to their home before walking to my office.

"So are we not gonna talk about it?" Jake questions as he follows me.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Seresin." I reply, gathering a clipboard and my jacket.

"Seriously?" He seems almost hurt by my statement.

I'm not going to talk about Denver with Roc- Jake. We work together. It's unprofessional and I for one prefer not to make that mistake again.

"I don't. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the ice," I say as I walk past him, "which I assume, you should too."

Taglist (join here): @mamachasesmayhem @sarahsmi13s @thedroneranger @kmc1989 @dempy @buckysteveloki-me @hangmanshoney @hookslove1592 @mrsevans90 @midnightmagpiemama @djs8891 @xoxabs88xox

#gbaby royally pucked #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin smut #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman fic #jake hangman smut #jake hangman imagine #top gun hockey au #top gun smut #top gun fan fiction #top gun au

[francesminos-tt]

First of all happy new year

Second of all

I need more of the Kardashians AU 😭😭

Pls let them be like early season ones (they were so unhiged)

The cameras manages to catch a fight between Alicent,Rhaenyra, Joffrey and Daeron and everyone is like 🫢🫢.

There is a fight between Alicent, Rhaenyra, Joffrey and Daeron, but fortunately there are no cameras in the cellar. Or are there?

Rhaenyra and Alicent did not call an emergency meeting this time. They both agreed to handle the issue gently, minimizing the bad PR as best as they could. Rhaenyra had already threatened to sue the Reality Show team for editing the material in such a way that put Joffrey in the bad light. However, no matter how firmly she stood by her son, the damage had already done, and now the most important thing was to keep the damage in control.

When Joffrey was called to the cellar, he had actually worried about his life for a moment. He knew his mother loved him, but what if this was a trap by someone (namely Lady Alicent, but Joffrey dared not to make any assumptions) to eliminate him once and for all? He had been the shame of the family for the past week. No, not only the family, but the entire realm. He unplugged his phone three days ago, for he couldn't face the accusations online anymore.

How can he cheat on his husband? And with Daeron’s own uncle! That’s a whole new level of incest, even for Targaryen standards.

I wonder how long has this been going on?

Guys, I did some digging, and guest what? I found Gwayne Hightower’s discharge file. He was a major in the royal navy, honorably discharged a year ago. Files attached.

Wow, he looks hot in navy uniform. I wouldn’t mind shagging him, to be honest.

I still feel bad for Daeron. He seems so in love with Joffrey. 😭

Another example of how fake these celebrities are.

No one seemed to believe Joffrey was innocent, even those rare comments that were in his favor contained only weak excuses and unnecessary apologies. Joffrey didn't care too much about the public’s opinion, but he was furious that people called him a cheater, while the truth was the other way around. Why couldn’t he even have a normal friendship while Daeron could have multiple mistresses?

Joffrey hadn’t talked to Daeron since the episode aired. To be fair, Daeron hadn't made any attempt to talk to him, either. They stayed in different rooms and avoided each other like the plague. Fortunately, the shooting had paused to make way for the holiday special, which would happen in Summerhall, a resort mansion of the family, so no further proof of Joffrey and Daeron’s strained relationship was captured by camera.

Joffrey stopped at the cellar door, took a sharp inhale, and knocked three times.

“Come in, dear.” The door was opened by Rhaenyra herself, as the current CEO of Targaryen Group pulled her son into a big hug, “God, Joffrey, you feel so cold. Have you been out in the snow?”

“I am fine, mother.” Joffrey assured her, “I just went for a jog. I needed some fresh air.”

“Did anybody see you? Paparazzi, passerby, or lingering groupies?” Lady Alicent asked with a stiff nod to acknowledge Joffrey, “We can't risk providing the public more material to speculate.”

“No.” Joffrey replied, casting his eyes down out of instinct, as if he was guilty of something, “I just jogged around manor, all private property.”

Alicent hummed, but didn't push the topic further.

“Stop it, Alicent.” Rhaenyra spoke, throwing a disapproving glare to the other woman, “Do not interrogate my son.”

“I am not interrogating anyone. I am just trying to make sure the current situation doesn’t get worse.” Alicent replied, but Joffrey could tell for her clasped hands that the lady was not pleased to be here.

Well, that made two of us. Joffrey thought bitterly.

“Why am I here, mother? I guess it’s not for the wine.” Joffrey asked, making a small joke to try and lighten the mood.

“We need to discuss your public image, dear.” Rhaenyra let Joffrey sit down on a cozy armchair that seemed out of place in the cold and dark cellar.

“With Daeron, of course.” Alicent added, “We decide that it’s best for you to work this out together in a low-profile way. Holding a press conference seems overkill and will only raise more suspicion.”

“I think we are just going to wait it out.” Joffrey murmured lamely, “I don't attract a lot of attention normally, you know that, mother. People will lose interest soon enough.”

“Well, it’s already been ten days, but the online discussion only seems to get worse.” Alicent browsed through her screen, “They are calling your marriage a fake now.”

They were right. His marriage was just that. A fake.

“I think restoring your public image also helps your reputation in the league, Joff.” Rhaenyra said gently as she took Joffrey’s cold hands into hers, “I’ve spoken to your manager about this already. Don't worry. We will deal with it as gently as possible.”

Joffrey bit his lower lip to prevent himself from lashing out. Why did his public image have anything to do with his football career? Wasn’t his skill enough to put him on the field? Was his club really going to put him on the bench because he was a cheater?

Before Rhaenyra could explain more, the cellar door was pushed open by an impatient Daeron. The blonde was in a damp raincoat with cashmere scarf around his neck and a pair of fine leather gloves, clearly just came back from outside. Daeron’s violent widened at the sight of Rhaenyra. It was clear that he hadn’t expected to see his half-sister here. Daeron’s surprise soon turned into annoyance as his eyes landed on Joffrey.

“What is the matter you want to see me today, mother?” Daeron immediately turned his eyes away from Joffrey, as if the sight of his husband irritated him, “I didn't expect a crowd here.”

“Daeron, dear, come and sit down.” Alicent pointed to the empty seat next to her. Even though her son also seemed to have been out, she made no intention to ask about his whereabouts. The double standard she took for Daeron and Joffrey made the brunette seethe with anger.

“Watch out your words, brother.” Rhaenyra was not so kind to her son-in-law, “Why are you so late? Sneaking out to meet your lady friend again? Do you know how much mess we are in? The last thing I want is to deal with your shit right now.”

“Funny, sister.” Daeron scoffed, “The last time I checked, it is not me who is being called a cheater.”

“You know it’s not true.” Joffrey couldn’t help but speak up, “It’s a misunderstanding and shit editing. I did nothing wrong.”

“Say that to these people online. I don't care what you did or did not do.” Daeron shrugged, browsing through the wine racks before looking down at his nails, making it clear that he would look at anywhere but Joffrey.

“That’s what we are here to discuss.” Alicent spoke, stopping the fight that was about to break out, “We need to reverse the public opinion before the holiday special. The first step is for you two to actually show up for the camera, together.”

“It’s no use, mother.” Daeron said immediately, “That’s no different from what we used to do. The public has become smarter now. Holding hands won't make the accusations go away.”

How could Daeron be so comfortable talking about their fake relationship? Did he notice Joffrey’s heart rate quickening whenever they held hands or shared kisses in public? Did he know that Joffrey cherished his affection, even though it was all fake? Did he know Joffrey was actually glad about the reality show because cameras meant Daeron would have to pretend he loved Joffrey 24/7? Did he know that Joffrey had loved him all along?

“That’s why we think the best way to overwrite a scandal is another scandal.” Alicent replied.

“What do you mean?” Daeron frowned at his mother, “Are you suggesting I expose Erin?”

Erin, Joffrey thought, so that was the name of Daeron’s current mistress.

“Of course not.” Rhaenyra chimed in, “I will never humiliate my son like that.”

“Then what’s your suggestion of a scandal, sister?”

Rhaenyra pursed her lips and threw a quick, apologetic glance at Joffrey. She paused for a moment, before opening her mouth to speak again.

“A sex scandal.” Rhaenyra said in a low voice, as if she feared that the thick wall of the cellar had ears, “You two will be captured by cameras while making out or doing something sexy. Like the time when Lucerys and Aemond were caught going at it on the balcony.”

The cellar went dead silent for a long while. The room was so quiet that Joffrey could hear his own breathing and heartbeat.

“Are you mad?” Daeron hissed, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “Are you suggesting handing over a porn to the paparazzi?”

“It doesn’t have to come to that extent, dear.” Alicent out her hand on the lap of Daeron to calm her son, “Just some touching and kissing will suffice, but you have to show passion. I and your sister think that the reason why the current scandal doesn't die down is because you two rarely interact on the show. You know how media work. Sex is their favorite topic.”

“No.” Joffrey shot up from the armchair before Daeron could speak again, “Absolutely not.”

“Joff, listen-” Rhaenyra tried, but Joffrey wouldn't let her finish.

“I SAID NO!” Joffrey all but shouted, “I don’t give a fuck about my public image or whatever. If my coach thinks I am not morally superior enough to play in his team, so be it. I will retire if no one wants to a see a cheater on the field, but I will not perform for the camera like a porn star!”

“You don’t even have to be naked.” Alicent said calmly, a sharp contrast to Joffrey’s panic, “Daeron will take the lead.”

“I do not want him anywhere near me!” Joffrey stomped to the door, “In case you haven’t noticed, your son despises me. Our marriage is a fucking mistake from the beginning.”

“Hey!” Daeron rushed to Joffrey and grabbed the brunette’s arm, “Show some respect to my mother.”

“Not when she shows none for me!” Joffrey shook Daeron’s hand off roughly, “Perhaps you can talk some sense into her. I am sure you are the last person who would agree to this crazy idea.”

“I don’t care, as long as the media leave me alone.” Daeron rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to answer anymore calls that are supposed to make me feel better.”

Daeron air-quoted the word ‘better’. Apparently annoyed by those calls.

“You hate me.” Joffrey said with gritted teeth, “You can’t even stand the sight of me, and now you are telling me you don’t mind shagging me in public?”

“I am not fond of a lot of people.” Daeron shrugged, making no attempt to deny Joffrey’s words, “It doesn’t stop me from shagging most of them.”

“Fuck off.” Joffrey spat, “I am not one of your gold digger mistresses. I’d say we call this whole disaster off and just tell people the truth. Maybe we can finally get rid of each other.”

“No.” This time, it was Alicent who rejected the idea, “You cannot get a divorce. It will destroy our PR.”

“PR, PR, PR! It’s always PR!” Joffrey’s eyes began to burn, but he refused to let the tears fall down, “I’ve spent my whole life living in a lie. Just because you were trapped in a loveless marriage, doesn’t mean you have the right to make me live with one too!”

Joffrey was so angry and hurt that he let his frustration out at the wrong person. He knew it was unfair to lash out at Lady Alicent, but he couldn’t help it. She had always looked down upon him. He was always the unfavorable son-in-law. She seemed to blame Joffrey for her son’s indifference, but God knew how hard he tried. If only she knew how much Joffrey wanted to be intimate with Daeron. But Joffrey wanted heart-felt sex, not another lie.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Daeron came to his mother’s defense immediately, shoving Joffrey roughly, “Do you think you are the only victim here? I am also trapped in this god forsaken marriage too, but unlike you, I am responsible enough to keep the facade.”

“Hiding your mistress in a rented mansion is your understanding of responsibility, huh?” Joffrey scoffed, “I’ve had enough of your so-called responsibility, husband. You are not as important as you think, and neither am I. I doubt our divorce will cause a scene.”

“Enough.” Rhaenyra finally spoke, rising from her seat and inserting herself between her son and her half-brother, “We are here to discuss damage control, not to blame each other for things we cannot control. Joff, I am sorry, but I cannot let you divorce your uncle, at least not now.”

Joffrey closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back his tears.

“It is your duty to keep a good public image, no matter you like it or not.” Alicent rose from her armchair as well, her warm brown eyes now cold as a dagger, “Get yourself together.”

Joffrey felt like a little boy being scolded for his mischief. For a moment, he cursed himself for being born into a family like the Targaryens. He had no say in his own life. He couldn't choose his own husband, couldn't get a divorce, and couldn't even have a normal friendship. His life was not his own, but a commodity for the public to judge. Everything should be fine, if only he hadn't fallen in love with Daeron. If he didn't love Daeron, he wouldn’t get so emotional. Daeron could have a hundred mistresses, and it wouldn't hurt him, at all.

If only he hadn't fallen for his uncle.

“Perhaps you two should discuss it,” Rhaenyra suggested softly, putting her hand on Joffrey’s arm, “you don't have to act immediately, Joff.”

“Yes, mother.” Joffrey murmured, keeping his eyes down. He was exhausted, his previous lashing out taking a toll on his already batted mental state. He tried to fight, and failed, so now he turned back into the dutiful son, who would do anything to strengthen his mother’s grasp of the family legacy.

Daeron pursed his lips into a thin line and stayed silent. He glared at Joffrey, but this time, it was Joffrey who wouldn't look back.

Joffrey sighed as he threw himself onto the comfortable mattress. He had just come out from a shower, his hair still dripping water and his skin still pink from the heat. He was clad in only a pair of boxer, too lazy to put on a T-shirt. No one would come in his room anyway, so it was no meaning to keep his decency.

It was already midnight. It was strange to shower in the middle of the night, but Joffrey needed the hot water to relieve the soreness of his muscles. Also, the heat was supposed to help him relax, though the effect didn't work too well on Joffrey. He had trouble sleeping for months now. Sleep deprivation was beginning to take a toll on his football performance lately.

Joffrey lit a scented candle and settled in, scrolling down his Kindle mindlessly. He was half-way through a novel about a middle-aged man quitting his job and going on a trip around the world. On hindsight, Joffrey probably shouldn’t choose this novel, for the topic of freedom and self-worth felt like a distant dream to him.

Tonight, Joffrey couldn't focus. Tomorrow, KL magazine would come to the keep for an interview, and Joffrey was supposed to take this opportunity to beat his cheater allegation and reverse his public image, by shagging his husband.

Joffrey sighed again. He had accepted his fate by now. He was prepared to pose for the camera like a whore, if that meant he could get rid of online violence.

It seemed that sleep would not bless him today. Joffrey was about to get up and go out for a jog to exhaust himself (again), when he heard some soft knock on his bedroom door.

“…What do you want?” Joffrey asked with a frown, leaning against the door frame and showing no intention of letting Daeron in, “It’s already midnight.”

“I can ask you the same question.” Daeron crossed his arms in front of his chest, “What aren’t you sleeping?”

“Funny.” Joffrey scoffed, “If you really think I am sleeping, you won’t even come. Out with it, uncle. What do you want?”

“I have things to discuss with you.” Daeron replied, “It is best that we discuss in private.”

“You have made it clear that you do not want to come to my room.” Joffrey said, keeping his voice as flat as possible. He shivered slightly as cold air met his toned torso, leaving a trail of goose bumps along his skin, “Why the sudden change of mind?”

Daeron didn’t reply. Instead, he pushed Joffrey into the room forcibly and kicked the door shut behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing-” Joffrey’s curse was interrupted by Daeron’s lips crushing onto his, the blonde’s hands grabbing Joffrey’s hip tight enough to leave a bruise.

“Practice.” Daeron said after releasing Joffrey’s lips to breathe, his fingers still dug deep into Joffrey’s hip, “We are going to put on a show, aren’t we? I don't want to make a fool of myself.”

“Fuck off,” Joffrey hissed, “Let go of me, you psycho. Do you consider it an entertainment to have sex with someone you hate?”

“I don't consider anything.” Daeron replied, slipping his hand into Joffrey’s boxer, “You are warm. What were you doing? Texting with my uncle?”

“What are you implying?” Joffrey kicked Daeron on the shin, using his football strength to kick the blonde away, “Will you believe me if I tell you I am just reading?”

“Depends.” Daeron reached out to grab Joffrey again, but the brunette took a large step back, “I don't know you well enough to draw a conclusion.”

“And whose fault is that?” Joffrey took a random jersey from his drawer and put it on, “Go find your whore if you are horny.”

“You seem very upset about my girlfriends.” Daeron said, wiping off a drop of saliva from his lips, “If I don't know better, I’d say you are jealous.”

Joffrey’s breath stopped for a second, but he soon controlled himself. He might not be as good an actor as Daeron, but he could fake with no problem. Joffrey had hidden his true feelings so well that there was no way Daeron could notice.

“No matter how we hate each other, we are still married. From what I learned, we will stay married for the foreseeable future. You having a mistress is a spit at my face. Am I not allowed to be upset about it?” Joffrey said sarcastically.

“You know it as well as me that having mistresses is common in our world. It doesn't mean anything.” Daeron shrugged, “My girlfriends love my money and status more than my person. I enjoy sex favors and they enjoy money and status. It’s a fair trade.”

“Get out.” Joffrey couldn't hear anymore. He didn’t want to know that his husband would rather fuck a random gold digger than him.

“I am serious when I say we need practice, Joffrey.” Daeron put on his business face, “We need to decide how far we should go.”

Joffrey bit his lower lip. In fact, Daeron had a point. He knew from experience that strategy needed practicing before putting to use on the field, but he feared that he would lose control if Daeron went too far. He would die of shame if Daeron knew a single touch was enough to arouse Joffrey.

“You kissed me just now. Isn't that enough?” Joffrey said, though he knew his excuse was beyond reasonable.

“Please, Joffrey.” Daeron rolled his eyes, “Don’t act like a virgin. Kissing cannot help us get away this time.”

Joffrey went silent.

“Now, I say a little making out is necessary.” Daeron stepped up, wrapping one of his arms around Joffrey’s waist tentatively, “I am going to touch you now.”

Daeron slipped his free hand into Joffrey’s jersey after the brunette showed no intention of pushing him away. He flattened his palm on Joffrey’s toned stomach, feeling the muscle contract under his touch. Joffrey’s skin was soft, but his muscle was hard from years of football practice, a sharp contrast to Daeron’s girlfriends.

Joffrey shivered under Daeron’s touch, his breaths quickening as beads of water dripping from his curls into his collar. Daeron’s hand roamed over his torso, sending a chill down his spine.

Their bodies were pressed tightly together now. Daeron could see the soft blush on Joffrey’s sun-kissed skin, the brunette’s slightly pouty lips, and the veins on the side of his neck. For some reason, the sight felt erotic.

“Dragonstone FC?” Daeron chuckled as he saw Joffrey’s old jersey, “Perhaps you should wear Old Town United instead. Give the reporters more material to speculate.”

“In your dreams.” Joffrey spat, but he was too weak to sound threatening now.

Daeron chuckled again, his hand now coming to Joffrey’s boxer band. He played with the soft trail of hair under Joffrey’s navel, teasing his nephew/husband with interest.

“God, Joffrey. How long since you last had sex?” Daeron tightened his arm and pressed Joffrey harder onto himself, “You are already hard.”

“It’s just a normal reaction.” Joffrey insisted, but his watery eyes told a different story. How could he admit that he had never slept with anyone since their wedding night years ago? Joffrey would rather die than admitting his feelings in this way.

“How cute.” Daeron poked Joffrey’s erection over the boxer, “How come I never notice how cute you are?”

Daeron rubbed Joffrey’s cock, causing a wet spot to spreading over the fabric. Joffrey’s breath caught in his throat, as a tingling sensation rising from his tailbone to the back of his head. He wanted to curse, to mock, to push Daeron away, but he couldn't. His every pore sang at Daeron’s touch, like the land welcoming the first rain after a long draught.

Daeron kept teasing Joffrey’s cock, while moving his other hand up Joffrey’s back to grab a handful of Joffrey’s damp curls. He forced Joffrey’s head up, and covered the pouty lips with his own. Daeron wasted no time pushing his tongue between Joffrey’s teeth, sucking, licking and invading the brunette’s mouth.

Daeron wasn’t lying. He had never really paid much attention to Joffrey before. To him, Joffrey was just a burden forced upon him, a duty he had to carry out, a reminder of his strained life, so he was reluctant to acknowledge Joffrey’s presence until now. He had no idea how warm Joffrey was, how smooth Joffrey’s skin felt, and how intoxicating Joffrey tasted.

“Enough,” Joffrey managed to blurt out, “let go of me.”

Daeron was so intrigued by Joffrey that it took him a long while to realize what the brunette had just said. He hadn't expected to go this far. He had just planned to tease Joffrey for bit, not charmed by the brunette to this extent.

“Joffrey-”

“Let go of me. You’ve humiliated me enough.” Joffrey grabbed Daeron’s wrist and dragged the blonde to the bedroom door, “It’s time for you to leave.”

The door closed in front of him, leaving Daeron alone in the dark corridor. The blonde looked down at his own mess between the legs, and sighed heavily.

It was a bad time to develop feelings.

#house of the dragon #hotd #joffron #my asks #joffrey velaryon #daeron x joffrey #daeron the daring

[hellsbellschime]

Are you implying that those who write the article know that this is all slander and still release a hoax to defame Sophie? Why not write the truth, why continue the slanderous campaign against a young woman, the mother of two kids? Sophie is so wonderful, she doesn't deserve all of this

LOL I'm sorry but are you familiar with TMZ in the slightest? They are the sleaziest tabloid outlet out there and they will write whatever a celebrity tells them to write and that they are legally allowed to. TMZ was actually created by a lawyer named Harvey Levin, and the thing is that they will spin the shittiest, falsest narratives imaginable, but they DON'T slander anyone, like they will LITERALLY go right up to the line of what they can legally say without defaming someone but they leave just enough leeway to escape any liability for writing something that is undeniably false.

So while I'm not an expert, I have some extra insight into this because of my job, and a lot of TMZ's tactics are incredibly transparent and it's not hard to figure out what's going on and who they're serving. Because again, they are the scummiest, lowest of the low in tabloid journalism, so if they are the ones who broke a story then, unless they broke that story because they literally found court documents filed by a celebrity (which they actually do fairly often), that story is coming from someone directly involved in said story. In this instance, it is comically obvious that they're being fed info directly from Joe Jonas and/or his PR.

And because TMZ is so sleazy, if you ever see someone who is actually famous who appears to be feeding info and trying to spin their own narrative via TMZ, then that is because they know that TMZ will put whatever spin that they want on the story in order to get the exclusive. Like in this situation, they have "sources" saying that Sophie is a partier and a negligent mother and blah blah blah, and they can say that because TECHNICALLY that is true, they are being directly told this by someone on Team Jonas, but because they can deflect onto their "source" they can print whatever they want and it's not considered slander even though they did nothing to verify what they're being told.

TMZ will also game search engine optimization to favor the celebrity that is spilling the tea, which is why you'll see them suddenly churn out a dozen articles about the same topic with the same spin, because having a bunch of content on a topic will make search engines categorize them as more of an authority on that topic, ergo their content will be pushed towards the top of the pile.

Beyond that, they (and a lot of other tabloids do this, but TMZ is the worst because again they'll just print whatever wild shit they're told with no regard for whether or not it's true) break a story and include a source because once other outlets start reporting on the story, they will refer to TMZ and repeat what the source has said. It's actually an incredibly quick and easy way to craft a narrative, because essentially if the other sites who are covering the story don't include what these "sources" have said then it will make their coverage seem less credible. So, in a matter of hours, there are 20+ articles that include at least something referring to Sophie Turner being a party girl who abandoned her kids, and to people who don't understand how this all works it makes those allegations seem credible because EVERYONE is reporting on it. However, EVERYONE is saying this in reference to one single source, and that source is probably just someone acting on Joe Jonas' behalf and saying something that they know is a lie but that can be spun into a story and dominate the narrative.

Lucky for Sophie, there isn't a lot to actually back this narrative up, but again, tabloids will run a lot of bullshit stories if they think they can get some traction off of it, and TMZ is unequivocally the worst of the worst when it comes to spewing absolute bullshit so they can get a scoop and get more inside info from a celebrity. They also know how to game the fuck out of SEO and how to craft articles in a way that lowkey forces every other outlet that reports on it to refer back to them. So as an incredibly tl;dr answer to your question, they aren't reporting the truth because they have an in with Joe Jonas specifically because they're willing to lie on his behalf, and that is far more valuable to them than actually writing the truth.

#sophie turner for ts

[luminary-lady]

Debunking “The Yoga Certificate” Conspiracy

I can’t believe I’m spending my Sunday evening discussing this, but misinformation is my pet peeve, and this subject happens to overlap with passions of mine, specifically photography and photo-editing. So, allow me to use my expertise in those areas to refute the post that is going around the fandom claiming Alba photoshopped her yoga course certificate. Even if you’re fully onboard with the whole “they’re just PR” argument, I’d recommend hearing me out, so that you don’t look silly and undermine your own credibility by repeating an easily disproven claim.

Debunking the first argument: “The instructor’s name is edited off the certificate.”

This is based off of a misinterpretation of flash photography and how that impacts the color of an image. Here is the photo that Alba uploaded:

The blog who started this conspiracy (which I can’t tag, as they blocked me after I reblogged their earlier post) cropped the photo of the certificate and circled an area like so:

Yes, there is a slight color difference in that part of the photo. The only problem is, there are color differences throughout the photo, because of a phenomenon called illuminant metamerism. This is just a fancy a way of saying that the color throughout image will appear differently depending on the type and amount of light shining on it. When taking a close-up photo of an object with flash, the light from the flash affects how the lens captures the color. This is because of how the light bounces off the photographed object. The effect varies, depending on the focal length, angle, and texture of the object. It many cases, this kind of metamerism can create subtle splotches of different coloring throughout the image, like so:

So, no, the deceptively cropped photo is not proof of editing. It is proof of flash photography. Next...

Debunking the second argument: “Her name is layered over the white line meaning [it’s] placed over it using editing. It aint [sic] written directly on it.”

Again, sorry, incorrect. First of all, this user (with assistance from @nancydrewwouldnever​) claims to have “delayered” the image to prove it was edited. That’s an immediate giveaway that photo editing is not their area of expertise. (No offense.) You cannot “delayer” a JPG or PNG file. If layers were indeed added to the image, you could only discern those layers if you have one of two files: 1) the original .PSD, .IND, or. .AI file that can be opened and manipulated in Adobe Creative Suite or another editing software; or 2) an original PDF file that you’re manipulating in Adobe Acrobat. Instagram stories do not allow for PDF or raw file uploads, so there is no way to “delayer” them, even if they had been edited. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s take a look at the name:

You can see by looking at the “B” and the stems of the “a’s” in Alba’s name that there is some ink bleed from the letters, i.e. the Sharpie or writing implement smudged a bit, creating a blue halo effect from the black ink. And of course the letter “p” crosses over the white line. That’s not proof of editing - that’s how writing works.

We also know that the black letters/numbers were not edited onto the certificate because the blur and pixelation of that lettering is similar to that found on the serif-type white lettering. Using the other blog’s example for a moment, see how their edited-on black lettering has comparatively sharp, crisp edges (for the record, they chose that name, I did not):

It follows then that Alba couldn’t have taken a photo of someone else’s certificate and edited in her information, as the levels of pixelation across the lettering wouldn’t match in that case.

Finally, there are other points that make this conspiracy nonsensical, and they don’t even require knowledge of photo editing:

As the blog acknowledges themselves, the other instructors in the course referred to Alba as a teacher in their Instagram comments. What reason would they have to lie? Do you genuinely think, using all your common sense has to offer, that random normies from Atlanta are “in” on this conspiracy? Genuinely?

People stalked the Yonder website and discovered that Alba taught a “new teacher” class on November 20. Ironically, they tried to use that to prove their previous, now debunked conspiracy that she wasn’t invited to Walt Disney World. Now they’re claiming the yoga studio must’ve received a payoff for her to teach there without a course. As the lingo goes, bffr.

I know some people in this fandom are desperate to believe that Alba is not staying in Atlanta with Chris, that she is just a calculating succubus who pops in for photo ops then spends the rest of her time baiting the fandom. If they believe that, they can justify their nastiness to themselves. They can console themselves that Chris will eventually see her machinations, dump her, and prove them right. I get it - they’ve been proven wrong so many times; and that’s not fun. And here I go, proving them wrong again, though I’m sure they won’t see it that way. They’ll say “hey, Justin!” or “hey, Alba!” or call me a “cleaner.” But they won’t be able to come with facts, because they simply don’t have any.

P.S. Don’t waste time arguing with me on anon. I’ll just delete. If you can’t stand behind your arguments, I’ve got no time for you.

#alba baptista #chris evans #queueanon #I feel so stupid doing this #but seeing people speak so overconfidently when they're plain wrong is just annoying as hell