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#mini-LED market
marketspace360 · 1 year
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Mini LED Display Market by 2029 Opportunity, Challenges & Entry Strategy
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amr-jayprakash · 1 year
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Mini LED is a more advanced version of the current LED display technology, having smaller version of inorganic LEDs used in display. Mini Led display achieves high dynamic ratio, higher image quality and power saving feature than traditional LED display due to thousands of mini led over the several thousand.
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blogaarti · 1 year
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Mini LED Display Market Worldwide Opportunities, Driving Forces, Future Potential 2029
Smartphones have been a significantly disruptive innovation that is incenting many technologies to adapt to their needs. As of 2022, the number of smartphone users in the world is 6.648 billion, or 83.72% of the global population. Such a significant number makes smartphones a tremendously powerful market force. Screen technology has also been affected by it. Mini LED displays are being employed in smartphones and other high-end gadgets. Their innovative design consisting of thousands of tiny LED backlights offers vastly superior brightness, contrast ratio, and local dimming characteristics. These displays are being used in consumer electronics and automotive displays too. Such trends are creating notable opportunities for the global mini LED display market.
 For More Industry Insights Read:  https://www.fairfieldmarketresearch.com/report/mini-led-display-market
 Notable Benefits over Traditional Displays to Build Consumer Propensity 
The growing demand for smartphones has been a key contributor to the growth of the global mini LED display market. Currently, these smartphones use OLED displays which replaced LCDs owing to their better energy efficiency, contrast, brightness, and depth of black. Now, Mini LED displays are gaining tremendous traction as the next step in display technology. Several major brands are investing in the technology and equipping mini LED tech into their upcoming flagship products. These displays also help limit hazardous radiations emitted by conventional LCD displays used in the past. Owing to these notable benefits, the global mini LED display market is projected to grow at a fast pace.
Flourishing Demand from Consumer Electronics Industry to Create Growth Possibilities 
The advancements in consumer electronics products and technologies are directly coinciding with the global mini LED display market expansion. Of late, consumer preferences in terms of electronics have changed drastically. Smart and innovative electronic products are assisting consumers to perform recurring daily life chores more easily. Many market players are also accelerating their efforts to promote products that simplify people’s lives and introduce home automation. To this end, consumer preferences have changed in favour of multi-functional intelligent devices such as wearables, smart homes, and other consumer electronic products. As these products use mini LED displays for controls, these consumer electronics trends are expected to bode well for the market.
 North America to Dominate Mini LED Display Market Amidst Growing Smartphone Consumption 
The growing young population that uses smartphones and other smart gadgets is propelling North America into a market leadership position. In addition, the number of organisations buying advanced consumer electronics such as smartphones, monitors, laptops, smartwatches, and TVs is furthering the regional mini LED display market expansion. The region’s flourishing video games, gaming monitors, and console sectors are also creating sound growth possibilities. Meanwhile, Asia Pacific is also emerging as a notable mini LED display market due to sustained growth in the semiconductor industry in the region.
 Prominent Market Players 
Some of the leading players in the global mini LED display market to include Samsung (South Korea), Cree LED (U.S.), Effilux (France), Betlux Electronics Co., Ltd. (China), NICHIA Corporation (Japan), EVERLIGHT Electronics Co., Ltd.  (Taiwan), OSRAM GmbH (Germany), LG Innotek (South Korea), Lumileds Holding B.V. (Netherlands), MLS (China), Broadcom (U.S.), Plessey (UK), EPISTAR Corporation (Taiwan), Luckylight Electronics Co. Ltd (China), Seoul Semiconductor Co., Ltd. (South Korea), Vollong Electronics Co., LITE-ON Technology Corporation (Taiwan), and Stanley Electric Co., Ltd. (Switzerland).
 For More Information Visit: https://www.fairfieldmarketresearch.com/report/mini-led-display-market
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tallinsales · 2 years
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marketksi · 2 years
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The global mini-LED market is expected to grow at a CAGR of 73.28% over the forecast period to reach a market size of US$ 1,063.574 million in 2026 from US$39.290 million in 2020. With the fast entrance of creative advancements like IoT and AI, the interest for mini-LEDs in the auto section is expected to observe huge development.
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researchdive · 2 years
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Mini LED Market By 2028 Top Winning Strategies, COVID-19 Impacting Factors, Business Strategies
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Mini-LED displays are the newest trend in the TV industry trying to make their footmark among many others. And the most talked-about factor about them is that their reasonably price. This new technology offers deeper blacks and enhanced contrasts. Let’s quickly get through and understand what this new technology is all about.
What Is Mini-LED?
Mini-LED is a novel display technology that assures deeper blacks and enhanced contrast ratios as compared to LCD panels that use traditional LEDs (light-emitting diodes). The name itself implies that mini-LEDs are much smaller than normal LEDs.
Usually, diodes that are lesser than 0.2 mm are classified as mini-LEDs. These diodes are used to light a normal LCD panel in the same way as it does in a traditional LED-based TV. The major difference among them is that many mini-LEDs are installed in this type as compared to old-fashioned TVs.
Even though mini-LED technology cannot perfectly compete with the image quality of a micro-LED or OLED display, they are considerably affordable to manufacture. The bigger the panel, the more are the savings. 
Click Here! To download an Comprehensive PDF Sample of Mini LED Market@ https://www.researchdive.com/download-sample/178
Advantages of mini LED:
Improved contrast ratio
Enhanced brightness
Deeper blacks
Uses inorganic Gallium nitride (GaN), won’t degrade over time like OLED
Power-efficient
Less prone to burn-in than OLED
What’s the Difference between Mini-LED and Micro-LED?
Compared to mini-LEDs, micro-LEDs are smaller in size. In a Micro-LED based display, every Micro-LED is fitted in a single pixel. Samsung, has avoided using Mini-LED and instead opted to use Micro-LED. It has used three minute LEDs for each pixel in its latest Micro-LED displays. Hence, every pixel can be switched on or off separately and emit a distinct color to the pixels besides it.
Eventually, this offers the paradigm with regards to color control and contrast ratio. The downside here is that micro-LED displays are still very costly to manufacture. 25 million micro-LEDs is required for a 4K micro-LED TV, and the process of its manufacturing is also complex and costly. This technology isn’t so far worthwhile due to the expenses incurred in its manufacturing.
Speak with an Analyst or Schedule a Call@ https://www.researchdive.com/connect-to-analyst/178
Which TV brands are onboard?
At present, TCL is the only TV Company involved in developing Mini-LEDs. This was the first one to enter into the Mini-LED market last year with two Mini-LED models making up its 8-Series. The 8-Series Mini-LED TVs integrate LCD technology and Quantum Dot, combining 25,000 LEDs right into the glass substrate of the panel. 
In January 2020, at CES, TCL was strong enough to hold onto the Mini-LED technology. It boasted its first ever 8K Mini-LED TV – also part of its flagship 8-Series – and declared that a more advance version of Mini-LED model with reasonably less price is expected to launch as part of the 6-Series range by the end of 2020. 
The Mini-LED technology is still in research & development phase and hence, it is difficult to express how it will be priced compared to OLED. Some TV manufacturers are expected to skip this technology altogether. However, there is no doubt that Mini-LEDs would provide a competitive substitute to OLED, by taking in some of its features and cutting the cost involved with its large panels. As each pixel does not generate its light in Mini LEDs, the sharp contrast and deep blacks are not comparable with OLED. But they are still significantly upgraded over the traditional LEDs. For bigger panels, you can literally save thousands of dollars by choosing mini-LEDs. 
The Future can be bright as well as gloomy
Mini-LED is among many display technologies which are making up into the display market. Currently, there are still some technical issues in the development of Mini LEDs. However, as Micro LED technology is not completely developed until now, and as the OLED technology is massively saturated in the display market, Mini LED technology is expected to be the key to next-generation displays. 
Request (Avail 10%OFF) On-demand Customization of Mini LED Market@ https://www.researchdive.com/request-for-customization/178
In the end, there are a few things you should pay attention to when purchasing a TV, but do not go off track and miss the important points: your budget and looked-for panel size.
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allforhee · 1 month
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ੈ✩ — 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒. (BLURB) | LEE HEESEUNG
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୨୧ pairing — older brother's best friend!lee heeseung x park!fem!reader
୨୧ synopsis — living under the protective eyes of your older brother, park sunghoon, he thinks he knows you the best. but litte does he know that heeseung knows you love your sour patch kids more than you love his usual swedish fish. (inspired by the summer i turned pretty scene where conrad knows belly's taste of candies more than jeremiah)
୨୧ genre — non!idol au, you're 20 and hee is 22, you and hee are dating but sunghoon doesn't know, sort of childhood friends to lovers?
୨୧ warnings — cursing, forbidden (ish) romance, cute fluff where heeseung knows you best, backstreet dating behind sunghoon's back, heeseung and sunghoon having a little quarrel, possesive/sassy-ish hee
୨୧ word count — 562 words, 3148 characters (sort of proofread?)
୨୧ author's note — first blurb and i lowkey wrote this on my phone during english class.. had to get this out of my system cause i absolutely loved this scene in tsitp. plus i felt like i needed to write something since i won't be releasing "it's a crisis"'s full fic anytime soon since i'm busy with exams coming up :(
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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓.
the car comes to a stop under the gas station’s bright led light. sunghoon takes off his seatbelt as he grabs his wallet in his pocket, before exiting the car, leaving you and heeseung alone.
you could feel the tension between you and heeseung. the heavy rain outside making it seem louder. he was slumped over in the backseat with his phone in his hand, the bright light illuminating his features.
when did he become so handsome?
sunghoon opens the driver’s side’s door, “we’re two hours away from home, gas is filling up and i’m gonna get some snacks. you want any y/n?”
“i’m down with anything, honestly.” you respond.
as sunghoon is about to close the door, heeseung takes off his seatbelt, whispering a “i’ll come with.” before closing the car door.
the mini market’s door rings a slight ding! as sunghoon pushes the door open. the constant buzzing of the refrigerator and the broken acs filled the room. the two split up searching for bare necessities like snacks and water to keep them company on the way home.
as a couple minutes passed, the two found each other again at the cash register, dropping the things at checkout.
in sunghoon’s hands was a bag of swedish fish, meanwhile in heeseung’s was a bag of sour patch kids.
“don’t waste your money bud, she likes these better.” heeseung snickered, a smirk on his face.
sunghoon lets out a sigh, “they’re practically the same.” he defends himself.
“not to y/n. she thinks swedish fish tastes like candles. she likes sour.”
“why do you even care, hee?” he asks him. “she’s my sister, i know her.”
heeseung licks his lips as he lets out a small laugh, “i don’t.”
“that’s bullshit.” sunghoon scoffs.
“you still want these?” the cashier asks the two, pointing at the swedish fish.
“yes yes, of course.” sunghoon answers.
“i tried to warn him.” heeseung laughs at his best friend.
“why are you acting lik—like this?!” sunghoon asks, a slight bit of anger heard through his voice.
“relax, you big fucking baby. i’m just messing with ya man.” heeseung chuckles, giving his best friend a pat on the back.
with a glare, sunghoon taps his debit card at the scanner, paying for their snacks, picking up the plastic bag and murmuring a small thank you, to the cashier, before they rush out back into their car in the pouring rain.
as the two car doors slam, you take the plastic bag from sunghoon’s hands, diving in.
“what did you get?” you ask the two, ruffling the inside of the bag.
“ooh! sour patch, my favorite!” you glimmer, opening the package as you dive into the sour goodness. but you didn’t miss the bag of swedish fish in sunghoon’s hands.
“oh! i could, um, eat this swedish fish… after?”
sunghoon opened the bag before he responded with a “no, no it’s okay. i got them for me.” as he popped a little fish in his mouth, chewing with disappointment.
“okay.”
sunghoon’s brows furrowed, knowing damn well that his best friend was right.
even from the backseat, he could feel heeseung shooting him a look that was screaming i told you so! before he put the car into ignition.
as sunghoon pressed the gas and started driving into the dark rainy night, his sister chewing on her sour patch kids, he heard heeseung letting out small whisper right in his ear.
“you see? my girl knows her sour patch kids.”
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taglist; @ariadores
back to my masterlist?
© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.
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starryylies · 1 month
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Hear me out now… ghost has a voodoo doll of you and he uses it to tease you in meetings and when you’re home and he’s at base😻
BEING SIMONS OBEDIENT LIL’ DOLL
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Ongggg I love you and I love this ask so muchhhhhh ongggggg and I know I say this in every ask but sorry for replying late 😭
my finals start on Wednesday and these days I’m just clearing out my drafts for my recent posts in so sorry 😭😭
That’s like a plot from the webtoon I love (act like you love me, it’s soooooooo good)
goin to a shady ‘spiritual’ market with you was the last in his wish list buy when you were sooo insistent on buying crystals and quartz he just couldn’t say no :((
It was a chance meeting really you were just going home when you saw,
A shop in the corner of the market adorned with beautiful gems and red coloured leaves, it had no banner but the mysterious aura of the shop lured you in
Going inside you guys found an old lady selling dolls and you just couldn’t stop to look at one of them.
A doll that looked exactly like you
The skin colour, the hair, shape of your eyes.
it was exactly you.
Well a mini you,
While paying the lady told simon to keep the doll safe
He nodded along not thinking too much of it
That day When you and Simon were sleeping he accidentally slept on the doll which led to you feeling squished a suffocated
Waking Simon up with the sound of you choking
He quickly got up to see what’s wrong and the minute he got up from the doll you were fine
And You noticed that
You felt crazy ar first for believing that.
But proving it to Simon was hard,
he didn’t believe it until you made Him tug the dolls arm through which he noticed the pain caused on the exact spot
god he felt crazy too but he believed you
And the thing is your horny mind came up with a crazier idea-
An idea that stated that he has the consent to control you through the doll for when he’s gone for deployments and when he needs to go to the base
And what’s more insane is that he agreed.
So this crazy arrangement really ended up being a success
Whenever si went out he would take the doll with him, he would purposely use the doll to his advantage to tease you just slightly
The slight brush on your tits during your lecture?
That’s Simon
The sudden touches on your sensitive spots?
That’s Simon too
God he loved teasing you.
Especiallyyyy when you’re at home,
Telling you to wait and be a good girl till he comes back.
On one particular day,
He had been at the base all day to train the new recruits and you were at home and bored :(
Out of nowhere you felt a sudden caress and pinch on your nipples with your clit being rubbed in circles simultaneously.
It felt sooo good,
until it stopped.
You felt so frustrated.
You had to cum :((
So how could you not touch yourself :(
But before you could start you felt a restrain on your hands.
You couldn’t reach your hands further than your waist now
Just then you a got a message from Simon
An image of you, well mini you it’s hands tied around it’s waist
And a small text saying, “told you to wait princess, be a good girl f’ me”
That sly bastard
Really, visiting that store was a blessing curse in disguise.
But maybe giving Simon indirect control to your body wasn’t half as bad especially for those days when he felt generous :)
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adroit--2022 · 2 years
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flowerandblood · 3 months
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The Gate of Salvation [2/3]
[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]
[ warnings: fingering, smut, sexual tension, angst, religious guilt, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]
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[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]
A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
After her meeting with the Pope, she had been writhing around all night, terrified and humiliated, unable to sleep. She couldn't forgive herself for her stupidity, for not seeing in time that it was obvious her uncle was trying to slip her over to the head of the Catholic Church like a snack he might be tempted to focus on.
The worst part was that he had hired her and she didn't know how she could take it back, defy the Pope himself, communicate that she was rejecting his proposal.
She got up before dawn, recognising that she would not get any rest anyway, and decided to take a warm shower. She thought while standing under the stream of hot water that she would try to distance herself, be professional and not give satisfaction to either her uncle or the Pope himself.
She hoped that when he finally decided to give any sort of interview the commotion around him would quiet down and she could quickly offer her resignation.
She sighed heavily, running her hand over her wet face, wondering how she was supposed to reconcile this madness with her classes at the University.
A car with the same driver as the day before arrived outside her townhouse again and took her straight to the Vatican. Driving through its streets, she noticed that many people had pitched tents in and around St Peter's Square, waiting for any new information about their Pope.
She sighed quietly, resignedly thinking about how unnecessary his stubbornness actually was.
This time it was not her uncle waiting for her in the square, but a middle-aged priest who could have been her father, dressed in a plain black cassock. He smiled at her in a way that seemed genuine to her and she reciprocated the gesture when he indicated with a movement of his hand that she should move to follow him.
"The Pope is just having breakfast in the garden and he will receive you there." He said as they walked along the marble corridors filled with works of art, she looked at him surprised and sighed quietly, glancing out of the window, finding that it was indeed pleasant warm weather, the sky was cloudless.
They walked out one of the back exits to the cloisters into a small garden consisting of a maze formed of walls of shrubbery, which, however, easily led them to its centre, on which stood a large arbour styled in antique manner, with a dome and Corinthian-style columns.
She grinned with some kind of disbelief when she spotted his figure seated at an ornate small white table, his cassock also white, he held in his hands a newspaper he had just been looking through, she thought with amusement that he was reading about himself.
Only when they got closer did she notice that other gazettes from different countries lay folded on the table top, the front pages of each asking who the new pope was, why he wasn't showing himself, why he was silent.
"Your Holiness." Said the priest standing next to her and nodded, the young pope, however, did not even bestow a single glance on them.
She pressed her lips together as she saw his thumb go to his mouth, he licked it and then used it to flip the page of the newspaper.
The priest who had brought her left them alone, as if he had already become accustomed to the lack of reaction and any culture on his part. She stared at him in silence for a moment, standing in front of him in the same dress as the day before, not having time to buy anything else.
"Holy Father." She said softly, wanting to get it over with, standing a few steps beside him.
He did not look at her, instead lifting his hand and extending it towards her, a signet ring of pure gold on his heart finger.
She looked at him for a moment in disbelief, then swallowed hard and walked towards him, grasping his warm hand in hers.
She leaned in, placing a quick, brief kiss on his ring and let him go immediately, he took his hand without even giving her a glance and went back to reading the newspaper.
She pressed her lips together feeling his intense, pleasant-smelling male perfume again.
"What do you think of what they write about me?" He asked, carelessly tossing the newspaper he had just read onto a pile of others, the discouragement on his face bordering on disgust, as if what he had read made him sick. "They are already reaching my family. Day and night they chat outside my mother's house."
She felt a tightness in her throat at his words and some kind of sympathy, because although he must have known what his decision entailed and what the consequences would be, some journalists crossed all possible boundaries, recognising no sanctity.
She shifted from foot to foot, looking at the French croissants that lay on one of the porcelain plates and a jar of strawberry jam, and reminded herself that she hadn't eaten breakfast. She grunted quietly, looking away, staring at the field flowers that grew around them, she spotted a gardener in the distance who was cutting the shrubs with his big steel shears.
"They won't stop until you give them something, Holy Father." She replied truthfully, hearing him snort under his breath.
"They will always want more." He replied dryly and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, he was staring at her sitting with his legs crossed.
She shuddered and looked at him in disbelief as he pushed the other chair in front of her with his foot clad in white elegant shoes, moving it away.
"Sit down, child. You are pale. Did you eat breakfast today?" He asked disapprovingly, like a parent expressing their discontent, she shook her head and he sighed heavily, indicating with his hand gesture to the seat next to him.
She thought that this certainly had nothing to do with behaving according to protocol, but decided that it probably didn't matter much to him, so she sat down next to him, smelling the intense scent of his perfume again, adjusting her dress, remembering not to sit with her legs crossed.
"Eat." He said dispassionately, and she wasn't going to argue, figuring that since she was being forced to be at his every beck and call now, she could get something in return.
Therefore, she reached for the croissant and jam, which immediately drew the attention of her stomach, and cast him a wordless surprised glance as she heard the sound of the lighter being lit and the hiss of the cigarette he held in his mouth.
He took a deep drag and spread out comfortably in his chair, looking at her thoughtfully, letting the smoke out through his nose. He smirked involuntarily, as if something in her gaze amused him.
"My chancellery contacted your University. They were happy to hear that you will be doing a sort of…internship here. You don't have to worry about your exams or classes." He hummed as if he was talking about something trivial and uninteresting, an irrelevant piece of information he had to convey to her, and took another drag, the tip of his cigarette igniting red.
"− what − but −" She started, but decided it made no sense, whoever he was, this man had clearly already planned everything for himself and had no intention of changing anything, much less asking her opinion.
"I thought you'd be pleased. Your uncle arranges for you accommodation and studies, the Pope makes sure you pass your exams without your personal involvement. Isn't that beautiful?" He asked with a sneer, and she felt a tightening in her throat, a cold sweat on her back, she stared wide-eyed at the half-cut croissant on which she had just spread jam, but lost the urge to eat.
He knew everything about her and thought she and her uncle were the same.
She pressed her lips together and leaned back against the backrest, placing her hands on the armrests even though she shouldn't be doing so and crossed her legs, she saw his gaze drop involuntarily to her bare knees, his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.
"My uncle wants you to take me to your bed, Holy Father." She said quietly, recognising that she didn't have the strength for this, for their games, their hookups, the secrets they obviously adored, of which the entire Vatican was made.
She blinked when he chuckled, his pointing finger hitting his cigarette so that the ash from it fell to the stone floor beneath him.
"Tell me something I don't know. Eat. We have a lot of work ahead of us." He muttered, taking one last drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke out through his nose, extinguishing the remnants of it on his plate.
She stared at him with her heart pounding fast, thinking in disbelief that he really was a few steps ahead of everyone else, he was perfectly informed, and although his words and actions seemed chaotic, there was purpose in them.
"What do you want, Holy Father?" She asked lightly, taking a piece of croissant into her mouth, he threw her an amused look and raised an eyebrow, she had the impression that he took satisfaction in teasing her, his gaze fixed on her lips, which she involuntarily licked.
"Many things. Above all, holy peace and quiet, but I am not afforded it. Get up, let's take a walk." He said matter-of-factly and rose abruptly, putting his hands behind him, moving ahead without looking at her towards the corridors made of tall, evenly trimmed bushes.
She quickly swallowed the piece she just had in her mouth and stood up, following him, levelling her step with his, sunshine and birdsong all around them.
"We're being watched. It's harder for them to eavesdrop on me as I walk." He said coolly, she turned behind her and saw the gardener she noticed before, who was apparently just pretending to water the flowers around the arbour.
She looked at him in horror, realising that he must have been spied on all the time.
That they all wanted to know what he was going to do, surely he must have kept them in an iron grip since no picture of him had leaked to the press yet.
"What's going to make the atmosphere calm down and the journalists back off?" He asked discouraged, and she sighed quietly, looking up at the cloudless sky.
"Your private invitation."
She was surprised that her idea that he would hold a press conference where he would be invisible and only his voice could be heard appealed to him. He felt that, in fact, his faithful should hear his words and what he has to share with them, and this did not require his image to be revealed at all.
He decided to receive the TV and newspaper envoys in the Sistine Chapel, recognising that this was some kind of milestone moment that required a special place, a black veil was placed in front of his papal throne.
Although on the one hand it looked comical, on the other it added a sort of solemnity and impression of holiness, something tangible and yet inaccessible.
The cardinals and his office workers had prepared a script for him, which he tore in front of her eyes before the speech itself, handing her the shreds that remained of the pages, staring blankly at the black fabric in front of him. She took it from him, not knowing what else she could do, he demanded she be by his side in case someone asked an uncomfortable question.
Her heart was pounding like mad, she could feel the cold sweat on her back and wondered if he felt a similar anxiety.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and although his face was stony, he seemed even paler to her than usual, his large hands on which she could clearly see the outline of his veins clenched on his armrests, he sat comfortably on his throne with his legs crossed.
"Holy Father, why don't you want to show your face to your faithful? Is this some new kind of Vatican policy, a way of getting the whole world's attention?" They heard the question echoed by the first journalist on the other side of the curtain, she saw him press his lips together and swallow loudly before his cold, matter-of-fact, dispassionate voice began to spread around them.
"My face is not useful to my faithful for anything. They need my action. My causality. They need my intervention in matters of urgency, in the problems of paedophilia in the church, in the embezzlement and misuse of church assets, in the restoration of law and order, in the opening up of the church to young people who feel forgotten and unwanted. My face, my history, my personal views will distract them from all these things."
He said without stammering, she looked at him in disbelief, realising that he couldn't have prepared this answer beforehand, he was saying straight from his heart what he was thinking and there was something touching about it.
Somehow she understood what he meant.
"What about the pilgrimages, what about the Sunday masses celebrated by the Pope?" Asked another journalist, she heard him sigh heavily, noticed that his hand trembled as he raised it to his face, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose.
"The Pope is not alone, he has his cardinals who can assist him in his missions around the world. As for the masses, I will attend them as a guest, but I will not be visible. The Pope is not unique. The Pope is chosen as first among equals. As Pope, I still remain a cardinal, one of the apostles. I am not Christ. I am not God."
She looked at him in pain, breathing unevenly through slightly parted lips, remembering what she had told him a few days earlier.
They need a guide, not another invisible God.
She couldn't believe that after what she had heard she had begun to feel sympathy for him, his answers seemed thoughtful and sensible, she wondered if she had just seen his true nature, or if he was as perfect a manipulator as any of the cardinals.
She wondered how he had convinced them.
How he became Pope.
When it was all over he left without a word, the journalists were led away, and she prayed that it would help, that public opinion would calm down a little.
She watched all the news editions that evening with bated breath, the whole world quoting his statements and his decision, to her relief, most of the experts spoke warmly of him. The newspaper headlines also left her under no illusions.
The Pope has spoken. He doesn't want to show his face, only his actions.
The Pope who chooses the fight against paedophilia over the glamour of glory.
The Pope without a face - a new beginning.
The end of splendour - the Pope retreats to work like any of us.
The end of the church as we know it. The Pope at last again the voice of the weakest.
The next day she arrived at the Vatican with a stack of newspapers, eager to show him the result of their work, hoping it would satisfy him and allow her to return to normality.
"The Pope is exercising, but he said he would receive you." Said the priest, who was called Father Lenz, and who was apparently his private secretary, always waiting for her to lead her wherever he just happened to be.
"He's exercising?" She asked with amusement, and he just raised his eyebrows, himself clearly not knowing what he thought about it.
He opened the door for her and she stepped into a large room, with a beautiful baroque vaulted ceiling and hundreds of paintings on one side, rows of tall windows on the other, illuminating an exercise machine consisting of a small bench with a mattress on which he placed his back as he pulled on the railing at the end of which the weights hung, his legs braced on either side of the machine for balance.
He was dressed in white tracksuits.
She stared at the sight in disbelief, waiting for him to notice her, it only happened after a while when he took a break and sat down, reaching for a bottle of water standing on the old wooden floor. She lifted up a bundle of newspapers and he nodded, running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his breathing after his exertion.
She walked over to him and handed him the magazines she held in her hand, she felt a pleasant throbbing between her thighs feeling the smell of his sweat mixed with the scent of his perfume, his lips slightly swollen and pink from the blood that pulsed faster through his body.
He flipped through the front pages of the papers one by one and sighed quietly, she thought with surprise that there was a sort of expression of relief painted on his face, as if what was happening frightened him somewhere deep inside and filled him with anxiety.
He put them down at last, looking ahead, grabbing the white towel that hung over the railing at the other end of the machine.
"I prayed to God after I was elected. I prayed that he would show me the way, and although he usually answered me in some way, that evening he was silent. It was a silence full of rejection, as if the heavens did not agree with the decision of the conclave. How was I to go out to the crowds in such a situation, to convince them that Our Father in the heavens was sending me to them?"
He asked, rising with a quiet creak from the metal bench, surprising her completely with his words, because of his clothes and the way he spoke she had cognitive dissonance and had to remind herself that he was the Pope and not just a young man close to her age.
His confession touched her in some way, she was able to imagine his despair on the evening he was elected as people chanted his name, but it was the voice of God that he wanted to hear.
He stood a few steps away from her, drinking the contents of his small water bottle to the end, and stared ahead, as if he had returned with his mind to that time, as if he needed to get it out of himself.
"That's why I asked my faithful to pray from me. And what did they do? They despaired. They despaired that they could not see my face, that they could not touch me, tear me apart, dissect my private life and my past. I have never felt so lonely." He said with a regret from which she felt a squeeze in her throat and lowered her gaze, not knowing what to say, reminding herself with shame that she had thought the same thing about him as all those people.
"Perhaps it was also the will of the heavens. In the end, when the time comes everyone will face God alone. Maybe it was his words: don't follow the crowd, don't conform, that's not why I sent you." She said softly, but immediately regretted her words, recognising that she had no right to interpret anyone's spiritual experiences, much less those of the Head of the Church.
She heard him snort with amusement, he pulled a lighter and cigarettes from his pocket and for a moment she thought he would want to smoke in this beautiful baroque chamber, however, he moved ahead towards a small door other than the one she had entered through.
"Come." He hummed, so she moved after him, knowing that it was pointless to resist.
For the rest, the more she got to know him, the more she liked him.
They passed through a narrow corridor and began to climb up a stone staircase that spiraled around a large pillar, it seemed to her that they were in some older part of this great complex. They reached a small wooden door, and when he opened it they emerged onto the roof of one of the buildings located to the right of St Peter's Square.
The view in front of her struck her, the sun was rising over the Vatican, lazily leaning out from above the church standing in the centre of the square like a nimbus, the air around them pleasantly cool and crisp.
She watched as he moved ahead and walked closer to the stone wall, firing up his lighter and leaning forward with a cigarette in his mouth, there was something so obscene about the sight that she smiled involuntarily.
He looked at her over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, taking a drag, then slid his cigarette out of his mouth with a motion of his hand and let the smoke out silently through his nose, shaking the ash to the ground with a flick of his finger.
"It has been reported to me that journalists are slowly making their way into my past. Don't worry, I don't think it's your fault. I knew it would happen, but I thought I had more time." He murmured lowly seeing her surprised, horrified face, suddenly as if tired and discouraged, taking another drag with a quiet hiss of fire, she thought looking at his silhouette illuminated by the first rays of the sun, that he looked like a saint.
"I want you to hear it from me. Will you listen to what I have to say?" He asked calmly and she nodded, feeling her heart pounding fast, looking at him with her lips slightly parted, terrified of what he wanted to tell her.
"My mother I told you about is a nun. She adopted me a few years after I was placed in a convent orphanage." He said calmly, looking away, staring at the crowds of people walking around St Peter's Square.
"They took me from the woman who gave birth to me because she liked to inject various stimulants into her veins. She was asleep when one of her men decided he didn't like the way I looked at him, that I was complaining about being hungry. He decided that he would gouge my eyes out, but he only succeeded with one, my screaming would wake even the dead."
He muttered, not looking at her but somewhere in the distance, letting out a puff of smoke with a deep breath, she looked at him with her eyebrows arched in pain feeling the squeeze in her throat, her cheeks red with emotion.
She wanted to say something but was afraid to interrupt him, she knew that what he was telling her was of the utmost importance and she wondered if anyone else knew about all this, if he had confided in anyone.
"Sister Alicent after I was brought in wouldn't let me call her my mother. So I called every woman I saw that, cooks, cleaners, teachers. She adopted me in the end, unable to look at it anymore. She got a dispensation from the Pope." He said lowly, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground, crushing it with his completely white Adidas.
"Some trashy, cheap magazines are already writing about the fact that I am the son of a nun and the Pope, others with mockery recognise that I am certainly her immaculate conception. That they mock me doesn't bother me, but it fills me with sadness that journalists stand outside her house all day. She can't even go out shopping or gardening. I guess you think the only way out of this situation would be an interview where I would tell my story?"
He asked disapprovingly, looking at her finally, she was shocked and horrified that he was asking her opinion on such an important matter. She shook her head helplessly, shrugging her shoulders.
"You cannot allow them to make your mother a hostage, Holy Father. You must show strength. Call press conferences where you talk about what decisions you make, but don't answer questions about your family. In the Vatican, you are Pius XIII, not Aemond Targaryen. When they see that they cannot blackmail you, they will let go. In my opinion, you both have to bear it." She said what she thought, thinking in the back of her mind that journalists would always want more and the matter would only get worse.
He looked at her silently as if analysing her words and sighed finally, kicking a stone that lay under his feet with his shoe.
"Have you ever kissed?" He asked lightly and she looked at him with shock written all over her face, feeling her heart pounding like crazy, her cheeks burning with heat, she couldn't believe such a question had come out of his mouth.
"You don't have to answer. I'm just curious. I've never kissed anyone." He replied after a moment, seeing her embarrassed reaction, as if he wanted to clarify and elaborate that his interest was purely scientific and theoretical.
She swallowed loudly, pressing her lips together, thinking that he had told her about himself, about the most private aspects of his life, and decided that nothing bad would happen if she answered him.
"Once, in high school." She muttered, stroking her arm in a gesture of uncertainty and embarrassment, looking away, she heard him hum under his breath, intrigued.
"Did it feel good?" He asked softly, standing a few steps away from her with his hands tucked into his snow-white tracksuit bottoms, cocking his head.
She looked up at him in disbelief, breathing erratically, clasping her hands tighter, involuntarily her gaze escaped to his full, glistening lips.
"It was a very moist, soft and warm sensation." She muttered feeling a tightness in her throat, her gaze fleeing from his eyes to his lips, unable to stop herself from imagining how wonderful it would be to feel how they tasted.
"Hm." He murmured, looking away thoughtfully.
They stood like that for a moment in silence, she could feel the wordless tension around them, as if electricity flowed through the air with their every word and movement.
"Did you confess this deed?"
She blinked and felt her heart stop, she shook her head, looking at him with slightly parted lips.
"Pardon?" She asked in disbelief, feeling discomfort in her lower abdomen and a cold sweat on her back, not believing that he was suggesting such a thing.
"Failure to maintain chastity before marriage is a sin." He replied indifferently, and she pressed her lips together, feeling tears of shame and humiliation under her eyelids, her eyebrows arched in pain.
"So I am a sinner, Holy Father." She said coldly, and turned away, leaving without any pleasantries or even a simple goodbye, she burst out sobbing as she ran down the narrow stairs.
It was only a kiss.
She just wanted to see what it was like.
In fact, she felt bad afterwards, but not because she thought it was a sin, but because she was not in love with this boy.
She asked Father Lenz for any of the drivers to take her home, seeing her face red from tears he asked what had happened, but she did not answer him.
She opened up to him, spoke about an intimate part of her life, and he could only judge her, make her another Eve, a fallen woman.
It was only a kiss.
She returned to her flat filled with regret and disappointment, she angrily pulled off the long dress she had bought and chosen specially to be able to present herself as expected, to keep herself humble, but for what?
She decided that she would never appear there again.
There was no kind of real contract between the two of them, she had only signed documents regarding her collaboration with the Pope's secretaries and a confidentiality clause.
She changed into her pyjamas, undid her hair, took the box of leftover cakes from the cupboard and lay in bed, browsing social media platforms on her phone, trying not to think about what had happened.
She tilted her head back and groaned in despair when she saw that her uncle had started to call her, she muted her phone and flipped the screen down, sighing.
She lay back on her bedding, staring blankly at the window, and thought with pain that the man who should be giving her the strength to be a better person had made her doubt herself, made her feel sinful and dirty.
She started to think that maybe she should go to confession after all, that maybe he was right, that she was only making excuses for herself without wanting to admit that she was wrong, but she felt even worse at that thought and just burst out crying.
Exhausted by sobbing and remorse, she finally fell asleep, seeing only through her closed eyelids that the phone display lying next to her glowed again and again.
She shuddered, rising quickly to sit up in complete darkness when she heard someone's loud knock on her door. She looked around with a pounding heart, not knowing where she was, whether it was evening or morning.
She glanced at her phone and saw that she had slept for several long hours and the sun had set, on her screen 20 missed calls from her uncle and a plethora of text messages that she didn't have the energy to read.
She sighed heavily and got up, walking reluctantly to the door, knowing her uncle would now make a litany for her, turning on the night light on the way so she wouldn't trip over anything and she turned the lock, opening it.
"Oh God."
She muttered, seeing the figure of the young Pope in front of her, still in the same white tracksuit and sneakers, he had his hood up over his head, he pulled the white earphones out of his ears with a soft flick of his hand, she could hear the heavy metal music playing from them.
"Will you let me in?" He asked indifferently and she just looked at him in disbelief, thinking he was risking a lot by going outside just to see her.
She sighed quietly and stepped back, allowing him to go inside, she leaned out wanting to check if anyone had seen him and closed the door quickly.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and saw that he had turned off the music on his player and put it back in his pocket.
They stood for a moment in silence, his gaze focused on her naked thighs, she swallowed loudly with shame at the thought that she was standing before the Head of the Catholic Church in nothing but pyjamas consisting of cream shorts and a shirt buttoned up the front, under which she didn't even have a bra.
She turned her head, running her trembling hand over her face, her heart pounding like mad.
"I made a mistake." She heard his voice full of regret. "I wanted your uncle to pass it on to you, but you didn't answer."
"I didn't and don't feel like talking to anyone, Holy Father." She muttered, feeling a tightening in her chest, fiddling restlessly with the cross hanging on her neck.
She heard him swallow loudly and look to the side, pulling the hood off his head.
"I made you doubt in yourself. In your purity and your value in the eyes of God." He said lowly, and she felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes for the umpteenth time that day, she closed her eyelids and tilted her head back, trying to control herself, not letting them flow out.
She did not reply.
"My words arise from my depravity, which I fight unsuccessfully. From my vanity and jealousy. I would rather have you locked up in a convent. You could then be by my side and no one would ever touch you again. You could be mine." He said softly, thoughtfully, looking at some point on the floor, as if he had drifted off completely in his musings, she felt her lips part in disbelief, her brow arching in pain.
I would rather have you locked up in a convent.
You could be mine.
What was she to reply to such a shocking confession?
She shuddered when he finally turned his attention to her, the gaze of his healthy eye sharp and piercing, while his artificial one was empty, white, lifeless.
"Though never before have my members reacted to the sight and thought of a woman, when I see you, I long to touch you, to taste you, to smell you. I have become addicted to your scent and try to recall it after evening prayer before I fall asleep." He spoke calmly, as if it was not an emotionally driven statement but something thought out, something that had been going on in his head for a very long time.
She felt with despair how her body reacted to his words with a greedy throbbing between her thighs and a moisture from which the material of her underwear was getting wet, her nipples hardened, more clearly visible from under her shirt.
She froze when she saw his gaze flee to her breasts, seeing exactly what she feared, his full lips parted slightly, she could hear his breathing clearly, fingers of his hands rubbing against each other in an anxious, nervous gesture.
"What do you feel now?" He whispered and she drew in the air loudly, feeling a tightness in her throat, she licked her lips dry from stress, taking a step backwards, hitting her back against the wall, feeling that she had nowhere to run. She helplessly clenched her thighs together, wanting to stop what was happening, she saw that his pupil widened at the sight.
"I'm wet." She confessed in shame, recognising that there was no point in pretending that there was something innocent in what was happening, her body was twitching with desire, begging for his touch and relief, her heart pounding like mad.
She heard him draw in a loud breath at her words while looking straight into her eyes, she saw fire in them, heavenly or hellish.
"Does it feel good?" He asked softly, gazing shamelessly at the spot between her thighs, she felt a wonderful heat in her lower abdomen and a tickling inside her, her walls were clenching around nothing, she thought helplessly that she had never felt anything like this before in her life.
"Yes." She whispered in a trembling voice, feeling her whole body quiver and pulsate, feeling desire in her fingertips, in her lips and down there, deep, deep inside her.
She shuddered as he approached her with a slow step, lifted her terrified gaze to him, his lips parted in an anxious, hitched breath, in his eyes heat and darkness from which she felt a squeeze in her throat and between her thighs.
He stood over her, for a moment just looking at her, his trembling hands finally raised, reaching for the buttons of her shirt, they looked at each other with some kind of pain and suffering from which she felt a sting in her heart as a coldness enveloped her naked skin.
It seemed to her that it lasted an eternity, he took his time, his gaze fixed on the line of her bare body as he unbuttoned her shirt fully. He didn't expose her breasts, he just looked at her.
She gasped when he lifted his hand and ran his fingertips slowly over her sternum down to her stomach, she closed her eyes and sighed quietly, feeling her lips pulsate with desire, swollen and thirsty.
"− so soft − so warm −" He whispered, her quivering palm rising and touching his fingers, his hand larger and more massive than hers, she could feel the outline of his veins clearly under her skin.
She pressed his hand to her heart, heard him draw in the air hard as he felt it beat beneath his fingertips.
He looked at her, remaining still, as if frozen, knowing that one word from him, one expression of hesitation and they would be left with only shame, only regret, only disappointment.
She felt the tears under her eyelids, which involuntarily one by one ran down her face, he noticed it and shook his head, his breathing shaky, uneven, despairing.
"− you're so pure −" He whispered, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her cheek as if seeking refuge, she clenched her eyelids in shock at how intimate and desired this closeness was, his scent filled her entire lungs, his warm breath enveloped her cheek.
"− looking at you I feel terror because I regret − I regret that I will never feel you − that I will never give you what I want −" He muttered in a trembling voice, she felt his warm tears running down her skin.
They both gasped when his shaking hand tentatively began to slide lower and sobbed in pleasure and despair as his fingers slipped hesitantly under the material of her shorts, deep between her thighs.
They were panting and quivering with desire, her trembling hands clenched on his arms as his fingertips pushed the material of her underwear aside with a shy gesture full of shame, she heard his low, helpless groan as he felt how wet she was.
"− God, help me −" He mumbled in a broken voice full of guilt, she tried but was unable to stop the moans of pleasure that left her mouth with each tentative movement of his fingers that brushed her swollen, throbbing womanhood, her body was so tense she felt she was on the edge.
"− please −" She whimpered pleadingly, placing her hand on his with a gesture full of desperation, wanting to feel him harder, deeper.
She tilted her head back as she finally felt him the way she wanted to, his fingertips digging into her fleshy, hot, moist folds with intense, circular strokes, she could feel his hot, ragged breath on her skin, his face pressed against her cheek, her hands clenched in a helpless gesture on the material of his sweatshirt.
Tears of despair and delight streamed down their faces, they were moaning, tired of pretending and fleeing, shivers ran down her spine every time the tips of his fingers teased again that tender bud from which her sobriety of mind was taken away, it seemed to her that their bodies were moving on their own, something hard and throbbing under his trousers rubbing against her thigh with desperate strokes.
"− forgive me − say you forgive me −" He mumbled pleadingly in a breaking voice, she felt him trembling all over just like her, unable to stop now, knowing there was no way back, her face wet with her and his tears.
She reached her palm into his hair and combed through it with her fingers, letting out her breath with a loud sob, moving involuntarily to the rhythm of his hand as it pressed harder and harder against her with the lewd click of her moisture.
"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for forgiveness −" She gasped in despair as she felt something approaching, moaning louder and louder.
She thought that despite the fact that he was touching her in this forbidden, sinful place, some incomprehensible kind of intimacy and innocence was added to what was happening by the fact that he hadn't exposed her naked body, that he hadn't wanted to possess her, only to experience something with her and in her presence.
"− good God, you're leaking − so sticky − I'll lick it off my fingers −" He whispered with a kind of awe, as if he were talking about something sacred and mysterious.
She felt that his words had done something to her, she cried out loudly, parting her lips in disbelief when suddenly a wave of warm pleasure surged through her body like a lightning bolt.
She felt wonderful tickling in her lips, in the tips of her fingers, in her breasts, in her chest, her inside's clenching greedily around nothing, her moisture trickled down onto his hand, she heard his low, surprised groan.
Her body suddenly became numb, she would have fallen if he hadn't put his arm around her in time, his hand ran over her cheek heated from the exertion, he was panting hard along with her, looking at her dreamily.
"− you look like Bernini's Saint Teresa − so beautiful −" He mumbled in a trembling voice, she sighed sweetly, laying her head on his chest, letting him embrace her tightly, she could feel his manhood throbbing under the damp material of his sweatpants.
He came.
She stayed in his embrace not daring to look at him, not daring to think about what they had done, wanting to push back the moment when they would feel remorse, despair and regret, sinking only into this wonderful relief.
You look like Bernini's Saint Teresa.
A sculpture in which a holy woman curves in ecstasy after an angel pierces her with an arrow of Divine Love.
God's Delight.
______
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses
334 notes · View notes
incorrectbatfam · 3 months
Note
I need to know the story behind these goons
Anon is referring to these guys
Rob is a single parent with 6-year-old twins who turned to a life of theft to provide for his family after a series of layoffs and a bad investments left them hanging by a thread. As his schemes got more elaborate, he linked up with the rest of these guys in a deal where they all give each other a hand.
Blaise is a concert pyrotechnic who walked away from the industry after their boss ignored a safety issue that led to one of their coworkers getting hurt so now they only take freelance gigs that happen to be commissioned by bad guys.
Kellin got fired from the League of Assassins after only week because they botched a training exercise Wile E. Coyote style and blew up Ra's Al Ghul's sauna but still has the thirst for blood that made them wanna be an assassin in the first place.
Molly was a chemistry grad student until an academic dispute forced her to drop out. Now she synthesizes her own experimental drugs and sells them on the black market, hoping to save enough to pay for her gender reassignment.
Otto is a jaded car mechanic who has to keep working despite his old age and chronic pain, and at this point he's too tired to care who he's working with or what he's doing so long as his needs are being met.
Milo is a teenager with a long string of disciplinary issues who ran away from home after his parents threatened to ship him off to military school. He starts working odd jobs to support himself and lands amongst the rest of these guys.
Gene was pressured into going into biomedical research by an overbearing family and snapped under the stress, leading to a rampage that cost thousands in property damage and a decade of lost data. Everyone he knew cut him off and he's laying low from the authorities.
Mac has been stuck in the same dead-end IT job for years and longs for a challenge that no career seems to satisfy. He turns to being a gray hat hacker in his spare time, mainly for the thrills and the opportunity to be creative. Any money he earns is circulated back into his operation.
Booker is just there for college credit but he likes it and plans to stick around. His talents include fixing copy jams and setting up team bonding activities at the mini golf course.
173 notes · View notes
cher-rei · 2 months
Text
afterglow- pt.3 [ T.A.A ]
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pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.
[wc: 2,5k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]
genre(s): friends?? to lover, work romance, fluff
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"do you have everything?"
charger. phone. apartment keys. suitcase. wait did I say charger?
"uh huh," you answered your sister and closed the trunk of the car, giving her one last hug before joining the staff on the bus that was parked outside of the main office building, along with the team bus.
you watched as she drove away into the early morning. 6:56 to be exact which meant that the sky was covered in hazy clouds, giving into the dusky look despite it being morning. you let out a breath and watched as the cloud of condensation formed.
you put in your airpods and shoved your free hand into your pants pocket. the drive wasn't long and you had to be on the field to oversee training for some clips so you dressed comfortably. a pair of navy blue nike parachute pants, a navy blue sweatshirt with a black shirt underneath and a pair of new balance.
the stroll to the bus was quiet, your mind elsewhere as you watched the staff members roll onto the bus after putting their luggage away. you sent a smile clara's way after she waved at you, and you were mentally preparing yourself to sit beside her during the ride when you were caught off guard by someone tapping your shoulder.
with eyes wide in shock, you whipped around to face the reason for your mini heart attack.
"oh," you sighed thankfully and paused your music when you saw klopp standing in front of you, an apologetic smile on his face.
"good morning to you too," he greeted with a chuckle and you returned it with a sheepish nod before falling into a brief conversation about today's match and it took a but for you to realise that you had to get in the bus where everyone was waiting.
"jamie's watching the match today?"
you stifled a laugh at curtis' entrance, watching as the group's manager gave him a pat on the back. "she'll be watching most of our matches curtis. I told you this already."
curtis let out a knowing hum as the rest of his teammates piled onto the bus, making sure to greet you. he paid close attention to one person in particular however and suddenly had a light bulb moment.
"is she joining us on the bus?"
you quickly shut him down which caused klopp to let out a breathy laugh but curtis was adamant and didn't want to back down.
he took a few steps forward and swiftly took your suitcase out of your hand and gave it to the driver to put away before you could even fight him for it. "wouldn't you rather be accompanied by people your age? we don't want you to die of boredom the entire ride."
you narrowed your eyes at him, knowing very well what he was doing. "It's just an hour. I'll be fine."
you were about to take off when curtis shot his boss a look that took the older man a moment to register. "uh jaime," he called out after you. "you're more than welcome to join us. I think it'll be less of a hassle too, seeing as we'll get out at the hotel together as well."
you've got to be joking.
you let out an even heavier sigh. "no se--"
"--don't worry. you can sit next to me," curtis chimed in effortlessly and slung his arm around your shoulders as he led you onto the bus, talking about how much fun you two were going to have on the ride.
and to be honest. it wasn't a terrible experience.
when you got in it earned quite a few surprise looks considering that it was curtis of all people who got you on the bus.
when you walked over to the middle of the bus with him, you were met with a very confused alex. "uhm?"
"well, give the lady her seat," curtis said and gestured for him to get up and you couldn't help but shoot alex the most apologetic look you could muster up.
he stifled a laugh as he watched curtis point to the seat next to alisson. he reluctantly got up of course and pat you on the shoulder. "I should be the one apologising to you."
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you sighed as you checked your uploaded Instagram story, trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were out on a soccer field at 7 in the morning.
everyone had just gotten back from checking into their hotel rooms and to your luck you were sharing a suite with clara. she was only two years older than you were but she was the sweetest person you'd ever met.
she was rather soft-spoken and kept her life behind the camera. which was exactly what she was doing right now as she took some pictures of the practice session so that it could be uploaded.
practice had started slow but that didn't mean that it was boring. you watched with your lips pursed, eyeing one player in particular before turning to clara who was a bit further away. she shared the same expression as you, one of utter shock.
you put your hand in front of your mouth and mouthed something to her. "he looks so hot."
in return, she gave you an eager nod and waved you over to look at the pictures that she had taken. there were a lot of things that you wanted to say in that moment but you had to hold back for multiple reasons.
both you and clara had to pretend to seem like you were actually doing your job instead of fangirling. "It's illegal to look this damn good."
from beside you clara stifled a laugh and gave you a brief look to see you staring at the footballer, a glint of something in your eyes that she couldn't quite make out.
"he doesn't have a girlfriend," she said with a smile and turned back to the front and took a few more pictures.
it took a moment for you to register her comment. "what difference does that make?" you asked with a quirked eyebrow. "I mean at least I won't get jumped for looking at him, but still."
you hadn't expected clara to laugh as hard as she did. your joke really wasn't that funny but it had the girl doubling over, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter as well when she snorted. you tried your best to calm her down but it just made it worse.
"dude everyone's looking at us," you managed out breathlessly. "the joke wasn't even funny."
clara shook her head in disagreement and wiped a few stray tears off her cheeks that were blood red. "I'm sorry--" she apologized with a snicker. "I just imagined you getting into a fight with a girl and you would get bodied so hard."
your jaw dropped in offence and a slight blush rose to your cheeks. "we're done here."
cara watched as you jokingly stormed off and smiled to herself. "you can do more than just look at him though!"
you whipped around in shock at how loud she had said that. but luckily no one was paying any mind to your little argument and carried on with what they were doing. "cara stop!"
about 10 minutes later the videographers had gotten their cameras rolling and it had brought you back to your presentation that had to be ready by next week thursday. entertaining alternatives. how were you supposed to think of any entertaining alternatives?
as an influencer yourself you took into account that you hadn't posted anything in a while and spent most of your time twitch streaming. you started on tiktok in late 2021 and blew up not too long after. there wasn't much to it— you were pretty and people found you funny but it wasn't much of a job for you since you posted anything you felt like.
but your twitch career was something that you'd always wanted to take a leap into so when you grew a big enough following you started your account with your now ex boyfriend who was still going about his career as per normal.
to the public your breakup was ended on mutual terms and it was stated that you felt that you were better off as friends. he cheated on you with your best friend. there was nothing mutual about that at all.
you dated for nearly three years before you found out, but you're not even sure how long they had been seeing each other. and you don't tend to find out. you needed to get away, so the second you got the chance you moved out of your mother's house in london and moved to liverpool since your sister was here.
and luckily she was more than happy to let you come and live with her for a bit until you got your own place. it was just her, her husband michael, and her 4-year-old son alex who were away visiting michael's parents back in london.
it's been a year now. a very quiet year at that seeing as you distanced yourself from your friends who had in fact known about your boyfriend cheating. but you were happy and that's all that mattered.
oh shit, I have an idea.
"ali. my man." you greeted with a smile and gave the goalkeeper a high five but it was obvious that he was either concerned or suspicious that you were standing in the net with him.
he chuckled at your sudden mood shift and continued to put on his gloves since everyone was getting ready for some shot practice. and frankly it was the viewers favourite segment to watch.
you slowly wandered through the net, taking a look around. "It's nice in here. you come around here often?"
the older man stifled at your rather cute yet amusing joke. "yes I do actually. how about you?"
you shook your head to the side and took a deep breath. "I prefer to be on the pitch. I'm all for the action you know?"
you watched as he eased more into the conversation and played along, and you couldn't help but smile. "hm, you seem like the type. I heard that you played until you finished high school. center forward right?"
a smile drew to your lips at the fond memories, leaning back into the post as you nodded your head. "I was like if chloe kelly and leah williamson had a baby."
ali wasn't the only one to laugh this time. from the other side of the field you could hear jurgen laughing along with the videographers. you hadn't noticed that your interaction was being filmed but at least it was something new.
you turned back to the goalkeeper with a hopeful smile, "that's actually what I wanted to talk-- dude!"
harvey nearly hit you with the ball. well technically he did, but alisson was able to jump in front of you and catch it just in time. you stood behind him in slight distraught and tried to fully process what had just happened.
"let's switch up practice a bit and use jaime as bait," harvey exclaimed and raised his hand with a proud smile. "all in favour say I!"
you scoffed in disbelief to see everyone on the team raise their hands and you were so close to jumping that garden gnome but ali stopped you and told you to carry on talking. this was the equivalent to a trust fall to be frank, but you were desperate and tried to doge the ball everytime it was kicked so that ali could save it.
"okay so basically trent and I kind of have a bet going on right now."
a chuckle left the goalkeeper's lips as he sent the ball back drawin's way while harvey urged everyone to kick the ball a little harder. "a bet? are you two fake dating?"
you pulled a face at the accusation. "ew no."
as if.
"long story short- the garden gnome wanted to tussel but I said no and then he threw trent under the bus and I was like 'hey why not?' but he won't let me because he's obviously scared that I'm gonna beat him and the only way he'll let me is if I can get a goal past you."
you didn't even bother taking a breath in between anything you said and surprisingly ali got it all. he got up from the floor with a deep breath and handed you the ball to kick out, and you did so with ease and made sure to send harvey a look.
"so you want me to help you with this so you can beat trent, but I'm also assuming this has something to do with your idea for 'alternative entertainment'," he said as he ran through your rant again and you gave him an eager nod.
you probably looked like a child to him. oh gosh.
you took a step to the side and got ready to hide behind him as you saw trent get the ball ready. "how did you know?"
"you kept on mumbling 'alternative entertainment' over and over for like five minutes while you were standing behind the post."
you eyes widened a fraction and you gave an embarrassed smile. "oh. that's nice."
that earned another chuckle and a reassuring pat on the back. "I'm in. just tell me when your pitch is approved and we can start."
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it was finally match time, and everyone had started filing out of the tunnel at molineux stadium. it was 4:50 p.m with ten minutes left till kick-off off and the team was on the pitch for warm-ups.
you were sitting peacefully by yourself behind the barricade, your camera out as usual to take a few pictures of your own and checked on the tags on twitter for some feedback from supporters. the stadium was fairly rowdy but since it wasn't a home game the atmosphere wasn't anything in comparison.
it was a few minutes before kick-off when you felt someone slide into the seat beside yours. you glanced at trent from the corner of your eye before returning your attention back to your phone screen. "fancy seeing you here."
trent wasn't playing today due to a minor hamstring injury but he wasnt expected to come and watch the match. you heard him mumbled under his breath, something about you being british but you brushed it off and got back to what you were doing on your phone.
neither of you said anything for quite a bit of time and kept your focus solely on the game in front of you which had taken a turn just seven minutes in when lee chan scored for wolverhampton.
"fuck," you muttered and sat back in your seat, trying your best to read the game.
from beside you trent couldn't help but glance over at you every so often. he watched as you bit your bottom lip in concentration which caused an unfamiliar feeling to swell up for him.
he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying his best to gain your attention. "I'm sorry about earlier. is your arm okay?"
you turned to look at him with a teasing glint in your eyes but your expression remained neutral. "yeah, I'm fine or whatever. i'm not the one with the hamstringy injury."
he nodded his head slightly and turned to the field once again half debating with himself over whether or not you were being sarcastic or not. silence took over for another 10 minutes before he mustered up the courage to say something again.
"were you serious about the whole 'if leah williamson and chloe kelly had a baby' thing?"
an amused smile drew to your lips. "well that's for you to find out when you're ready to play again."
trent stifled a laugh at your confidence and he felt the acceptance sink in. he didn't quite know what it was that intrigued him but he was willing to find out. he just found you strange that's all. and he was having quite the time giving into the banter and your overflowing confidence.
he couldn't lie and say that he didn't find it fun. the entire game he had to fight back the urge to laugh because of something you said or a comment you made about some of the players.
"do you think darwin would drop his hair routine if I asked?"
"£20 says that andy tries to tussel with someone."
"I totally forgot that shorty was on the field. nah garden gnome suits him better."
"I just know for a fact that domi's face card never declines. I mean he's my lockscreen wallpaper for a reason."
it got to the point where he had to take a moment and sink into his seat anytime he wanted to laugh. at some point, jurgen came to join the two of you to rant about how you weren't scoring anything and it was near half time but you gave him some reassurance.
"we always come back second half though. just throw them all with some water to wake them up and you'll get at least two goals I'm sure."
were you right? of course you were. lightwork.
cody, andy and an own goal.
there were eight minutes of added additional time so you took the time to relax, after 90 minutes of screaming and complaining. and you started to notice that trent was warming up to you and actually made conversation.
progress.
"you tagged me in your story? are you even allowed to do that?" he asked and you shrugged your shoulders, not seeing a problem with it.
you quirked your brow. "do you have a girlfriend?"
trent's lips parted in shock at the question, not sure how to respond or what you meant by it. he didn't know how long he spent looking at you lost in thought but it felt like eternity. "no."
"then yes, I am allowed to do that."
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witchthewriter · 2 years
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    
🌿ISFJ 🍁Gryffindor  📜Chaotic Good   🔮Leo Sun, Cancer Moon, Virgo Rising
SFW🌿
⭑ Neville might be a tad clueless at times, but he means well
⭑ He always boils the kettle so it’s on when you get home from work
⭑ Always a vase full of flowers and fridge full of groceries 
⭑ Your home is covered in plants; from the mundane basil plant, to a snapping flower that could take a finger off. 
⭑ You barely fight/argue. Because you both don’t like raised voices. So instead, you make sure to air your grievances healthily, rather than let them build up (like both of your guardians did).
⭑ When Neville was asked to be the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts, you were both overjoyed. 
⭑ It was a slightly difficult transition, but you settled in. 
⭑ Because you weren’t interested in teaching, you, also an old Hogwarts student, were asked to help in the hospital wing. 
⭑ Although she wouldn’t dare admit it, Madame Pomfrey was growing old. 
⭑ Neville and yourself moved into a room that you had never seen before. It was high in a tower, overlooking the grounds. Like some sort of apartment, or mini common room that led to a private chamber. 
⭑ It had enough room for all your plants, herbs, tinctures, and potions. A big four-poster bed sat in the middle of the bedroom, with an ensuite in the left-hand corner. 
⭑ It felt like a true home. Especially since it was at Hogwarts. 
⭑ Neville has a lot of sweaters and cardigans, which you often steal. 
⭑ Unfortunately, Trevor died a few years ago. So you scowered shops, markets and pet stores to find a toad. But because of the influx of students, most pets were gone. Except for a three-legged cat, who was missing an eye. No one seemed to want the sweet thing. 
⭑ So you surprised Neville with the old cat and he loved him.
⭑ Neville called him ‘Brixton,’ but the cat mainly goes by ‘Twinkle-toes’, ‘BeeBee’ and any variation of words that you feel at the moment. 
⭑ He curls around Neville’s legs and reaches up for a cuddle. (One time Brixton followed Neville to class and sat in on the lesson.) 
⭑ You both sit at the professor’s table in the Great Hall, but that’s mainly on special occasions or at the beginning and end of a school year
⭑ Normally there’s a mini-feast waiting for you in your chambers. 
⭑ When Neville is reading, you’ll walk up behind him and massage his shoulders 
⭑ Other times you’ll wrap your arms around him and pull him away 
⭑ He likes to hold you close; your body pressed to his chest. Heartbeats slowing as you fall asleep together 
⭑ There’s always a full, cold cup of tea on the kitchen bench because someone forgot about it
⭑ Neville smells like mint, lemongrass, and the smoke of a crackling fire. 
⭑ You live at Hogwarts when the school year ends, and help around the castle 
⭑ Neville always goes to the Quidditch matches, while you wait in the hospital dorm, fearing the worst. One time you had to treat a squashed nose and Neville nearly fainted. 
⭑ Neville can be very romantic, especially when the radio is on and you’re in the living room. He’ll pull you up for a dance 
⭑ You visit Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Luna. Although they have busy lives, you’ve sworn to keep in contact 
⭑ Relationship Tropes: 
  ✧ Childhood Friends to Lovers
  ✧ Similar Personalities 
  ✧ You Confessed Your Love When Thinking He Was Unconscious 
NSFW🔞minors dni!
⭑ You would think that Neville is tender and sweet with you. But he ravishes you like it’s the last time he’ll ever touch you.
⭑ He’s passionate and endearing. Always keeping you on your toes.
⭑ Neville is dominant but not to the point where he calls you names. He prefers to physically feel in control. With his hand squeezing your neck while your tongues dance in each other’s mouths 
⭑ Neville likes when you call him sir, master, and professor. It feels so dirty, thinking about bending you over a desk and pulling up your skirt. 
⭑ He definitely has an enchanted picture of you naked, sucking on his cock
⭑ Neville loses himself when he’s thrusting inside of you. His face will press against yours as he pumps in and out, the movements setting you on fire in the best way
⭑ His favourite position varies - there isn’t just one. He likes to fuck you up against a wall, over a table, while he’s on top of you etc 
⭑ He becomes so gentle with you afterward. He whispers how well you did, how good you made him feel. 
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jungle-angel · 6 months
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The Greatest Pumpkin Ever Picked (Bob Floyd x Reader)
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Summary: It's almost spooky season and you and Bob let Auggie go nuts to try and find the perfect pumpkin
Bozeman, MT
October, 2023
"Never saw a kid so excited to pick out a pumpkin," Joe chuckled as he and Bob slowly trailed behind Auggie, letting him run through the rows and rows of pumpkins in the field behind the farmers' market.
"It's all he talked about all week at school," Bob answered. "Kay, his teacher, was telling me about how they were planning to take the kindergarteners pumpkin picking when I went to go get him."
"Better to do it with the family first," Joe mused.
"Daddy! Daddy! I found it! I found my pumpkin!" Auggie shouted proudly.
"Show me where bud."
Auggie led his father and grandfather to the further end of the field where he pointed proudly to the pumpkin he had claimed as his own. It was huge, a gigantic orange monster that stood in the middle of the field, bigger than all the rest and much bigger than Auggie.
"Holy shit," Bob groaned.
Joe laughed at his son's exasperation. "Hey, the ghoul wants what the ghoul wants."
"Dad, there's no way we're gonna get that monstrosity in the back of the truck," Bob pointed out. "We're gonna need a crane just to lift it."
"Do you not remember what we did when you were that little?" Joe chuckled.
Bob searched his memory for any answer to his father's question until something sparked to life in the back of his mind. "You mean....?"
"Yep," Joe answered.
"How are we gonna do it?"
"Leave that to me."
Bob and Auggie waited patiently for Joe to return, paying for the pumpkin at the front end stall. Finally, Joe came back with the truck, parking it at the bottom of the hill that was just a little bit steeper than Bob had anticipated.
"Alright, lets get that sucker rolled in!" Joe announced.
"We gonna do the Charlie Brown thing Daddy?" Auggie chirped.
"Yep," Bob answered.
Bob helped get Auggie started and once the pumpkin rolled a little bit, Auggie began guiding the pumpkin, rolling it down the hill and running beside it as it picked up speed. He giggled the whole way down as Bob took a video on his phone, laughing at the sight of his meekly framed, bespectacled little mini-me running beside the monstrous pumpkin.
At last the steepness of the hill gave way to the truck bed where the pumpkin landed with tremendous force. The whole truck bobbed up and down like an old low-rider as the huge pumpkin came to rest perfectly in the bed.
"Well that was alot easier than we thought," Joe remarked.
"I just hope the shocks on the truck are ok," Bob told him.
Bob loaded Auggie into his carseat and buckled him in before he and Joe took off with the pumpkin in tow. As soon as the two of them pulled up the long driveway to the house and parked, Bob lifted a yawning Auggie out of the truck and carried him into the house.
"Woah that's one hell of a pumpkin!" you exclaimed, meeting your husband at the door.
"And one sleepy kid," Bob replied, kissing you on the lips. "I'm gonna go put him upstairs for a nap, he's exhausted."
"You do that, I'll set his lunch aside for when he wakes up."
Up to the bedroom Bob went, placing Auggie in his bed and covering him first with the duvet and then his Pinocchio blanket that had warmed him as a baby. Bob tucked the sage green and white crocheted blanket and Auggie's soft Dumbo stuffie in beside him before turning on the little fairy lights in the dark room.
Bob made his way back downstairs, following the smell of the savory lunch you had made while the skies had darkened outside. "You doin ok sweet pea?" he asked, pulling you in and kissing you.
"Now that I can walk around a little bit," you answered. "Princess wasn't really letting me sleep much, but other than that, I'm alright."
"Where's Patrick?"
"He's upstairs, asleep in his room," you answered. "Guess the pumpkin picking tired Auggie out."
"Ran the thing down the hill until he got to the truck," Bob chuckled.
You laughed as the image popped into your mind of little Auggie running after the pumpkin. "You think he'll wake up and we can carve it later?"
"We'll see," Bob answered. "I don't know if we'll be able to fit it in the house though."
You relaxed in his arms, the baby girl in your belly finally settling down long enough to relax herself. You couldn't wait to carve the pumpkin and see Auggie's little face light up at the sight of the future jack-o-lantern that would soon decorate the farm.
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how things worked out
Bucky Barnes x Reader
a/n: this is a prequel to a mini series I will be writing called Invisible String.
summary: looking back at your past relationship with steve rogers and how it led to finding the love of your life - life is funny, isn't it?
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The post office was packed, no surprise there. People carrying packages that range from hefty to manageable in their arms. The air was stuffy but that was to be expected inside a government facility. The slow shuffling of the line would have been a nightmare for an impatient person, but you were fine just waiting in line. You needed to get the small package out as soon as possible and if that meant waiting eons, then that was that.
The package in your arm wasn’t the usual boring brown; you had opted for one of the festive boxes that the post office offered. It was blue with colored polka dots with a printed faux light blue ribbon around it. It was cute and the contents inside of it was even more adorable – three pairs of onesies in various colors, a small blue beanie and the cherry on top, a toddler sized newspaper boy cap. Oh, it was precious when you saw it at the baby boutique and knew Steve would die when he laid is eyes upon it.
Steve Rogers.
Damn that man for being so wonderful.
The thought of him made you smile, when for a long time, it crushed you. The mere thought of his existence in the world, knowing he was off being great without you at his side, paralyzed you. When all the years you spent with him didn’t matter in the end, at least that’s how you felt. Now, ten years older and so much wiser, thinking of Steve made you realize how great life was. How grateful you were to have had the time with him, even though the relationship ended badly. It was all over the tabloids of your mind; the memories and tears, the fighting and the loving…
“Come dance with me.”
“Everyone will see,” you laughed, fully aware of the crowd of people. The two of you were at a farmer’s market and a band was playing near the food stands. Lights were hung over the trees, illuminating the night with its softness. Steve, so boyish in the face, just smiled and held out his hand. He didn’t care and if he didn’t care, why should you? So, you took his hand and shyly allowed him to bring you to the dance floor. No one else was dancing, but he pulled you into his body as if in a bedroom; one hand around your waist, while the other held your hand against his chest. Your head rested against his shoulder; hand slipped up his back as the music swirled in the air.  In that moment, the people staring felt insignificant. You felt exceptional – the star of the show, with Steve at your side, kissing you on the forehead and both of you wishing the song would never end.
It did though.
“You can’t be serious, Steve…”
His eyes lifted from the ground. “We both know this isn’t working anymore. Bucky’s driving down to help me move out, I want you to have the apartment.”
Hand on heart, you feigned a smile. “Oh, my hero. Always a gentleman.”
“Don’t be like that, come on…. we…” his words drifted, as you two did. It had been six months of really trying to get back to that place of love but falling short at every attempt. “…I can’t live like this anymore, I’m sorry.”
The line moved a person forward and you moved along. Staring down at the package once more, you laughed at the thought of sending your ex a baby shower gift. Who would have thought? After all the years of hating Steve, you grew to appreciate him. Growing older had made you learn some civility and you were able to understand that the two of you were never a happy ending match. The same could be said for him, he was compassionate enough to understand how you felt. He understood that the pair of you were just too young, hadn’t experienced life. That breaking up had been the best thing to do, and you thanked him for his graciousness. That same graciousness allowed him to understand and approve of what would conspire years later between you and his…
“This line is insane.”
The familiar voice, warm and low, brightened the room as you gazed over to man who appeared next to you. Bucky stood there in a thin black dress shirt and dark jeans; he handed over a takeaway coffee cup and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you twice and took the package out of your hand, so you could take a sip. The coffee was delicious, and you thanked him, nodding to the line ahead.
“We’re going to be here for a while.”
“You sure we need to send this to Steve?”
Bucky was teasing, but you insisted that it be sent today. “We’re already missing the baby shower next week; we need to get this out today.”
“Not our fault they decided to have the baby shower the same week we leave for Europe.”
You smacked his arm with a quiet laugh, and he beamed, wanting to kiss you a dozen more times but the line moved. He settled for staring lovingly at your face as you took another drink of coffee, and he felt his body warm. His eyes flickered down to the package in his arms, and he couldn’t help but wonder how everything ended up this way – not that he was complaining. The breakup between his best friend and you were not amicable, he could never forget how hurt and angry you looked when he showed up at the apartment. It looked like you hadn’t eaten in weeks, eyes red from crying – he wanted to get out of the situation, but he loved Steve like a brother. He also liked you, thought Steve had made a great choice when he brought you around as his girlfriend. Bucky was placing bets that his friend would propose, especially after you two moved into the apartment.
Bucky was sure of it all.
Then he found himself moving Steve’s belongings into a rental truck and driving him back to New York. After that, it had been almost eight years since he last seen you. Until a trip to visit friends in Los Angeles changed his whole world. He never, in his damn life, would have expected you to show up to his friend’s apartment.
Walking in with a friend, wearing professional attire; pleated black pants, half tucked in white blouse. High heels that you quickly took off, leaving them at the door – it was clear you were familiar with the apartment. Hair swept in a low bun, strands framing your face. He watched from the couch, standing up as you moved to the kitchen not even noticing him.
Sam, whose apartment it was, had called for you from the kitchen and that’s why you hadn’t noticed everyone who was over. You grinned at the handsome man when he offered up a beer from his fridge. The two of you had met a few years back when you first moved to LA for a job; he had been a co-worker but eventually left the company. Your friendship continued and now, you were a constant at his apartment.
“I have to introduce to my buddy from New York, picked him up from the airport today.”
Sipping from the beer, your shoulders relaxed after a long day at the office. “James, right?”
“I go by Bucky, actually.”
The familiar voice shook the apartment and when you turned, you hadn’t expected to see Bucky standing in front of you. He stood there sheepishly, not knowing what your reaction would be, but when you placed the beer down and laughed, he relaxed. The two of you approached each other and hugged, a little awkward, but it was nice. Sam, confused, asked if you knew Bucky and you laughed, pulling from the man. You stared up at him and his eyes softened in a way you had never noticed before.
“Yeah, I know him…”
“I hope they like the clothes….”
Bucky guaranteed they would, and you relaxed. He smiled – he did that a lot when you were around. Although, it took some time for him to reconcile with his feelings for you and the fact that you were his best friend’s ex-girlfriend. He had hated the feelings he had, the instant attraction and want that surged through him the moment you walked into Sam’s apartment. Hated that he could feel himself drifting towards you that night at the apartment or how you came around nearly every day he was in town for those two weeks. The first few times, it was group outings; Sam, the others, Bucky, and you. Showing him around the city and then when the others were busy with work, you offered to take him around.
Bookshops, lunches, people watching.
It had been the best two weeks of his life and he knew he was in trouble.
Yet, somehow, it all worked out.
Bucky said your name as the line moved up, he took your free hand and walked forward. You looked at him and he could only grin. “I love you.”
How strange life was; time moving forward – that was all that was certain. Squeezing Bucky’s hand, you smiled back at him. Fascinating, how things worked out. Bucky holding your hand, keeping your heart safe – knowing if it hadn’t been for Steve, the two of you would have never found each other.
 “I love you too.”
....
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marketksi · 2 years
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The global Mini LED market is expected to grow at a CAGR of 73.28 % during the forecast period. The mini led market is developing because of the tremendous expansion in the consumer electronics industry globally.
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