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#the last 7 are all commissions
frecklystars · 3 months
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I’m so sad I won’t be able to watch the Oscars until I’m home from my trip in the third week of March ☠️ the whole world would have seen I’m Just Ken by then and I’ll be left behind 😭😭
And it’s not just “wah im gonna miss a show” bc I don’t rly care about the show itself necessarily. This is my main F/O and I won’t be able to see him but other ppl will. I have felt so disconnected from Ken. I’ve gotten a handful of inbox messages where ppl say “oh i have him call ME his sweet girl now because of your comic” or ppl will tag my ship art with Ken as “oh that’s ME and Ken” and it hurts. I’ve said multiple times I’m not comfortable sharing F/Os but ppl just? Don’t care?? My self insert isn’t somebody for you to project onto, holy shit why is that so hard for some ppl to comprehend
Now when he calls me sweet girl in my fics/drawings I don’t feel anything anymore, I’ve tried making comics and I feel absolutely nothing from him, it doesn’t feel special anymore bc so many people keep self projecting onto my self insert as if she were an “x reader” experience. I’ve felt disconnected from Ken for a couple of weeks now and I’ve been trying so hard to feel good with him again but I can’t. I’m so numb. I don’t want to lose him and the fact that the self shippers who openly project onto my stuff will see him singing live, but I won’t, feels like another major step backwards away from him, if that makes sense. My ship with him doesn’t feel special anymore. I need these characters so badly, I don’t have anybody else if I don’t have my Ryan F/Os and I don’t want to go back to months ago when I had absolutely nothing to hold onto and I was fighting every day just to stay alive. I’ve had special interests completely ripped from me due to abuse and I can’t go back to feeling as bad as I did last year, I had never felt worse and I’m so scared of feeling that way again. I need my F/Os I need Ken and I’m so far away from him now I don’t feel his love for me anymore and it’s terrifying bc last year was the worst year of my entire life and I don’t want to go through my flashbacks and nightmares all by myself, I don’t want to go back to constantly planning my own demise when my trauma was so fresh and I had nothing to comfort me. I jolted awake from more ptsd nightmares today, which has been nearly an everyday ordeal for a year, and I wanted to think of Ken comforting me like I usually do but I didn’t have the heart to do so. I feel so unloved and replaceable the way ppl easily replace my S/I in all of my posts, I don’t believe he’d care for me anymore.
I keep having meltdowns bc the thought of losing F/Os all over again during a time when I’m STILL in such an unsafe situation shakes me up so bad and I don’t know how to solve this problem. I need him with me I need comfort from these characters but I don’t feel connected with them anymore bc I’ve associated them with a dozen other people. At this point I’m not really upset about missing Im Just Ken, im upset about the fact i just feel nothing whatsoever and watching that live could have helped a little but I won’t be able to access it until other people have already seen it, and it won’t feel special anymore. And my ship with him just in general doesn’t feel special anymore, none of them do, and I’m scared and devastated and I don’t know how to fix it
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batz · 10 months
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chaotictomtom · 7 months
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ashamed to realise the planning and mere thought of opening commissions made me not draw since the 15 of this month because I was also working on the sketchbook to pdf thingy. and even tho i STILL haven't done the commission post it just froze my ability to do anything it's embarrassing
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heartsforhavik · 3 months
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superfan! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader
✰ warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader
✰ a/n: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)
part two here!
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superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.
superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.
superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.
superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.
superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.
superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.
superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-
superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.
superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.
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fratboykate · 1 year
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I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.
people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.
5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:
10% to our agent
10% to our manager
5% to our entertainment attorney
5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)
most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.
you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.
lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.
this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.
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they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)
support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.
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readychilledwine · 8 days
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Odd One Out pt 2
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Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner Circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.
Warnings - 10 year time jump, groveling, Fluff, reader forgives Azriel, loosely edited (Liz will fix and check for mistakes she and her friend missed with fresh eyes 💕)
A/N - forgive the name picked for Kal and Vivienne's daughter. So many of you are playing with Disney princess themes I couldn't shake it.
Odd One Out pt 1
✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️
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Dawn was beautiful. In the past 10 years, as you had toured the Realm performing, you had realized that quickly. Every court always brought you back to Dawn. Every High Lord brought you back to Thesan. Thesan had allowed you to build home here, welcoming you and your talent with open arms, and tonight was a true testimony of his love for you and your music as he paid you a high honor.  
Thesan had spent the day hosting the quarterly High Lord's Meeting, and tonight, his gift of relaxation to the other High Lords was you, your orchestra, and a night of candle lit music, champagne, and food. 
You smoothed out the dress Thesan had commissioned for you tonight. An off the shoulder tulle number with long sleeves. It was soft and buttery, flowing with every step. The top hugged you perfectly, and two long slits sat on each leg, exposing them and the heels you were wearing. The fabric was a soft white color, a stark opposite to your conducting gowns in the Night Court. Jewels were sewn into the fabric, dripping down your body like you had been wrapped and bathed in starlight. The only sign of your home was that star-like glow and the earrings Azriel had bought you many years ago. The rough diamonds set in rose gold had backs that dropped on delicate chains with another diamond sitting at the bottom. “something delicate for my gentle girl,” he had whispered that sentence to you, letting it sink into your skin and mind. 
How odd it truly felt to compare that moment to when Azriel sat there in silence as Elain lashed out against all you had built, all your hard work, studying, you're very being. 
You took a deep breath, silencing your nerves as the theater went quiet. Dinner had been served, drinks flowing left and right, and now it was time. You watched as you musicians took their places, sitting and preparing themselves as well. Most had followed you from Night, and last you tragically heard, the Rainbow had grown silent in your absence. The new musicians ranged from every court, every walk of life. You smiled fondly at what you had remade, at their outfits so finely crafted of black fabric and silks. 
Thesan took the stage next, doing something Rhysand never had, “High Lords and Ladies, faithful emissaries, friends. After a long day of tense negotiations, words said in anger and frustration, and Rhysand's horrible father jokes,” a loud “hey” came from the audience making you laugh softly, “I could not think of a more enchanting way to end our night. A decade ago, a talented female came to me, offering to exchange a week of shelter and security for her playing music nightly for my court.” 
Thesan looked so softly towards you, “An offer many of you would go in to receive as well as she traveled our lands studying our music and history. Her talent had touched my fae and myself so deeply that when the time for her to make a home base came, I was honored when she approached me and built this theater to her exact wants and needs.”
He continued after a long breath, “Tonight is her first performance and opening night. I felt it would be wrong for anyone besides all of us to see her newest pieces first. Pieces inspired by every court, by all of our stories, of our fae’s stories. She wrote a collection of 7 songs, for us, about us.”
Silence refell over the room, a quiet appreciation for what they were about to see. “Without further ado, y/n.”
Clapping began as the faelights turned off, and candles took their place, glowing and reflecting off your gown. You bowed gracefully before turning and raising your hands as soon as Thesan took his seat. You began the concert in Tamlin's court, playing a piece inspired by his own love of music and the sounds of a spring storm. The music rose before a gentle fall where everything became more gentle as if it was quiet after a hard rain. You couldn't see as Briar took his hand at the swell, the soft moment where the violin went from the jig of a fiddle to the formality was a reflection of the moment Tamlin's dreams were lost to him, but new dreams began.
Summer was a symphony to the magic of bioluminescence. The sound was heavily inspired by the night of laughter and fun you had watched Varian and Amren enjoy. It had been the ancient female's first time seeing the ocean turn to waves of stars, and Varian had hired you to play for them that night. She cried as a familiar harp solo came, one that she had turned to Varian on one knee as you played it. 
Autumn was the sound of battle and passion. Eris's rise as high lord was captured in every note, every building drum. The high lord openly smiled during the peak. The moment where drums of war faded to the sounds of peace. The sound of peace after war was shown through a soft wood flute playing. An instrument that was born in Autumn's halls.
Winter had been the most unique to compose. Kallias and Vivienne's story was so well known, but their daughter, their darling Elsa, the 10 year old princess, was an unknown and protected factor. You took a deep breath before beginning this piece and looked to the white-haired girl, “For you,” you said softly to her bright grin. Elsa had written on sheet music for you during your stay there, lyrics to accompany the notes on your page, you held out your hand, welcoming your only singer for the night. The song was a desperate plea, a singer begging to be noticed for who she was, for her talent to be noticed before her beauty. You had picked the singer based on how young and fragile her voice sounded, the way it truly felt like a cry as she begged to be looked at for who she was. 
Dawn's turn came and the music felt like taking flight, it encompassed the thrill of the air, of an early morning sunrise adventure. The piece left you breathless due to the amount of movements it took. It was intricately layered and as lively as Thesan's court while maintaining an air of class. 
The Day Court was music of love and sex. Tender moments mixed with playful notes and chords that screamed sensuality. The tone was overall seduction, but moments of tenderness came through as well. It was a tribute to the biggest flirt you knew. The biggest flirt who became the most faithful husband. 
You were left with one court. You turned to begin your thank you and took a deep breath, “Over the past several years, you all have welcomed me into your courts and homes with open arms. You allowed me to study the music of your homes, your culture, and learn to play them to perfection. For that, I will always be grateful and so humbled by the generosity and kindness shown to me.”
You took a deep breath, stilling the last of your nerves. “My story begins in Night, though. My childhood began a long friendship between myself and someone who pushed me towards my dreams. This last song is dedicated to him.”
Azriel heard as Rhysand held his breath. He watched as his brother laced his fingers with Feyre. Feyre began to cry immediately. Of all the songs you composed, this one held the most strings, a clear call to Rhysand and your humble beginnings in the streets of the Rainbow playing. Azriel watched you in awe. 
You turned and a voice you had heard countless times played through magic. It was the moment they had met and a soft purr of, “There you are. I've been looking for you," echoed before the music began.
10 years, 10 years without even so much as a whisper or note. He watched you move with grace, watched as a violin sang softly. The tune was a call to the Inner Circle, and before Azriel could stop them, his shadows began to dance. 
Every movement of your arms and body was like watching liquid starlight sparkle and gleam to the fantasy inducing tune you had created. As your hands fell to indicate the end, Azriel felt his heart stopping. 
It was the bond that drew him to you. 
It was the years of friendship, of quiet nights listening to you play for just him, or long hours with you hands over his, so soft and warm, teaching him to play piano. 
It was the fact that he was in love with you. And he realized he had been for a very long time. 
Kind, talented, beautiful, you. 
He watched as you wiped a few quick tears as you and Rhysand held eye contact. He felt his breath hitch as you bowed during your queue before walking out. 
The orchestra played a familiar tune as everyone stood to leave and feyre began to cry. You had played this song during Feyre's first Starfall, hoping the romantic tune would have been enough to make the high lord and his mate kiss. It became a song they begged you to play every second they could. Rhysand held Feyre while looking at Azriel. 
“Get. Her. Back.”
You did not attend the after party. Seeing the Inner Circle had been too much. You had hoped that after all these years, that pain would be gone. You leaned against your balcony, humming a new tune you wanted to write. A shadow caressed your skin as you moved inside and sat at your harp. “I know you want me to play your song.” The shadow swirled and began to dance as you plucked the taunt strings. 
“You spoil them.” Your breath hitched at that familiar voice. “Don't stop,” Azriel sat down in the corner of the room. “They've missed dancing for you.”
You let out a shaking breath and began again, watching with a soft smile as the shadows weaved and played. The sight always memorized you. They always memorized you. These beautiful shadows were more like children than darkness. Each had a personality, a voice, a preference in instrument. You finished and lowered your hands.
“Elain is probably wondering where you are.”
Azriel rose a brow, “Elain and Lucien are on their honeymoon, sailing the world.” 
You knit your brows. “I'm sorry. I know you loved her.”
“Not the way I love you.” Silence fell over the room, “I have loved you for so long and been blind to it. I will never get back the time I wasted in my stupidity. I will never be able to take back the hurt Elain caused you.” 
You went to open your mouth and speak, “No. I want you just to listen to me, y/n.” You nodded and looked at him. “I love you,” he stated it like a finality. “The bond snapped for me the night you left, but in your absence, I have realized I loved you long before that blessing and that I would love you long after.”
He paused and continued, “I was silent when Elain spoke to you because I was in shock, but that isn't a good enough excuse. She hurt you, and I stayed silent. I will never forgive myself for that, so I do not expect you to. I'm not even worthy of asking you for a chance to make things right, but I am here as a desperate male. A male who wants nothing more than his mate, his love.”
“Azriel-” 
“Listen,” he moved to you, getting in his knees before you and taking you hands in his. He placed one on his face and smiled. “I dream of this gentle hands, of the joy they bring. I dream of you. Of your love and light. Your heart. When I sleep, I pretend I can hear your heart dancing for me, luring me like a siren spell.” 
Your bottom lip trembled and a tear fell, his love for you poured down that neglected bond, warming every inch of your being. “Azriel..” 
“Y/n, I am so sorry I wasted so much of your time, of our time.”
You threw your arms around him, holding him tight as he continued. “I beg you to allow me to try to make this right. To show you how special you are to me, to our home, to our family. I am begging you for just a chance.” 
His words left like a healing and soothing balm on unseen wounds. “Our family is at a party just below you. Waiting for me to either come back with you or to mourn the loss of you forever. Tell me what I am doing. If I have failed us.”
The party was in full swing as Rhysand watched Nyx and Feyre dance. He held his empty whiskey glass, debating on another one when perfectly manicured hands grabbed his empty glass and placed a full one in his grasp. He grabbed that soft hand instantly, “y/n darling.”
“Rhysand,” He turned and kissed your palm, violet eyes on yours. You continued the greeting softly. “Your presence makes my mind sing the most beautiful song.”
Rhysand held back tears as he answered, “And my heart longs to hear you play it.” He nuzzled your hand. “Come home to us.”
You sighed happily as Azriel rested his hand on your back, “I believe we can negotiate that." 
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp
Odd One Out Taglist:
@gabbiskylar01 @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @blacktreacle22 @buttermilktea11 @heartless-tate @nerdy4itall @eep500 @tele86 @cleverzonkwombatsludge
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re-lmayer · 2 months
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i've found myself in a bad situation. the tl;dr is i have to move, but i can't afford to. i'm a disabled student and just do not have the funds required to rent a truck, hire movers, and cover deposits. so, i'm offering various services on my kofi, but if you don't need those you can also donate there or via paypal. my cashapp and venmo are both erinshelley91 if you'd like to donate on those platforms (i couldn't figure out how to link to those)
if you can't afford to commission me or to donate, reblogging this post and sharing my twitter thread is a free way to help me out and is so appreciated!
more context and stuff under the cut, i just don't want to make a long post on ppl's dashboards
my landlord has been cheating on his husband, and their relationship is rocky. he also has a massive spending addiction according to his husband. his spending addiction is making him not want to perform the actual duties of a landlord, because investment costs are cutting into his shopping spree funds
ex, he is illegally not fixing a leak in the shower of the upstairs tenants, and claims the costs are more than their rent. he told them to "figure it out, or get the fuck out." (verbatim.) he also told me it would be cheaper for him to not have tenants at all bc his utility bills would be smaller. he then left it to ME to inform another tenant to leave (then gaslit me and denied it in front of his husband when his husband questioned it)
in his words, we have 90 days to leave. i am disabled and a full time student and have been living on my fafsa returns, and the last job i had made one of my disabilities worse to the point i've had intensive physical therapy (several hours several times a week) and am likely going to have to undergo surgery
i'm also mi/nd, so even on a good day i'm not very well equipped to handle things, and the recent stress has also caused my therapist to see me several times a week in lieu of institutionalization
all that said, i'm not in a good spot physically or mentally, hence the best i can do right now is offer some of my skills on kofi
i'm currently working with my state's vocational rehab to try and find a suitable job until i can get my degree, but even then i simply would not be able to afford the costs of a sudden move in the timeframe i've got to work with
UPDATE MARCH 25, 2024: i want to invest in a scooter to do gig work like doordash. this will let me work at my own pace, and earn towards the move myself, then i'll have some more independence to continue doing that after as well
they require 50cc or under, which means i could get a scooter for under $1,000. i'd also need to cover fees to renew my license (i let it lapse since i haven't had a vehicle), get a helmet, and get insurance (roughly $100 annually)
i also made some amazon wishlists for folks who would like to help but prefer to know exactly where their money's going. i have one for housewarming stuff here, and one for necessities here
update as of april 5: my cat peed on my bed, and since it's a memory foam mattress it soaked all the way through and ruined it
update as of april 7: she did it again. this time there's blood in it
update as of april 14: i still haven't been able to take her to the vet, but i've been trying to do at home remedies
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batboyblog · 2 months
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Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #10
March 15-22 2024
The EPA announced new emission standards with the goal of having more than half of new cars and light trucks sold in the US be low/zero emission by 2032. One of the most significant climate regulations in the nation’s history, it'll eliminate 7 billion tons of CO2 emissions over the next 30 years. It's part of President Biden's goal to cut greenhouse gas emissions in half by 2030 on the road to eliminating them totally by 2050.
President Biden canceled nearly 6 Billion dollars in student loan debt. 78,000 borrowers who work in public sector jobs, teachers, nurses, social workers, firefighters etc will have their debt totally forgiven. An additional 380,000 public service workers will be informed that they qualify to have their loans forgiven over the next 2 years. The Biden Administration has now forgiven $143.6 Billion in student loan debt for 4 million Americans since the Supreme Court struck down the original student loan forgiveness plan last year.
Under Pressure from the administration and Democrats in Congress Drugmaker AstraZeneca caps the price of its inhalers at $35. AstraZeneca joins rival Boehringer Ingelheim in capping the price of inhalers at $35, the price the Biden Admin capped the price of insulin for seniors. The move comes as the Federal Trade Commission challenges AstraZeneca’s patents, and Senator Bernie Sanders in his role as Democratic chair of the Senate Health Committee investigates drug pricing.
The Department of Justice sued Apple for being an illegal monopoly in smartphones. The DoJ is joined by 16 state attorneys general. The DoJ accuses Apple of illegally stifling competition with how its apps work and seeking to undermining technologies that compete with its own apps.
The EPA passed a rule banning the final type of asbestos still used in the United States. The banning of chrysotile asbestos (known as white asbestos) marks the first time since 1989 the EPA taken action on asbestos, when it passed a partial ban. 40,000 deaths a year in the US are linked to asbestos
President Biden announced $8.5 billion to help build advanced computer chips in America. Currently America only manufactures 10% of the world's chips and none of the most advanced next generation of chips. The deal with Intel will open 4 factories across 4 states (Arizona, Ohio, New Mexico, and Oregon) and create 30,000 new jobs. The Administration hopes that by 2030 America will make 20% of the world's leading-edge chips.
President Biden signed an Executive Order prioritizing research into women's health. The order will direct $200 million into women's health across the government including comprehensive studies of menopause health by the Department of Defense and new outreach by the Indian Health Service to better meet the needs of American Indian and Alaska Native Women. This comes on top of $100 million secured by First Lady Jill Biden from ARPA-H.
Democratic Senators Bob Casey, Tammy Baldwin, Sherrod Brown, and Jacky Rosen (all up for re-election) along with Elizabeth Warren, Cory Booker, and Sheldon Whitehouse, introduced the "Shrinkflation Prevention Act" The Bill seeks to stop the practice of companies charging the same amount for products that have been subtly shrunk so consumers pay more for less.
The Department of Transportation will invest $45 million in projects that improve Bicyclist and Pedestrian Connectivity and Safety
The EPA will spend $77 Million to put 180 electric school buses onto the streets of New York City This is part of New York's goal to transition its whole school bus fleet to electric by 2035.
The Senate confirmed President Biden's nomination of Nicole Berner to the Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit. Berner has served as the general counsel for America's largest union, SEIU, since 2017 and worked in their legal department since 2006. On behalf of SEIU she's worked on cases supporting the Affordable Care Act, DACA, and against the Defense of Marriage act and was part of the Fight for 15. Before working at SEIU she was a staff attorney at Planned Parenthood. Berner's name was listed by the liberal group Demand Justice as someone they'd like to see on the Supreme Court. Berner becomes one of just 5 LGBT federal appeals court judges, 3 appointed by Biden. The Senate also confirmed Edward Kiel and Eumi Lee to be district judges in New Jersey and Northern California respectively, bring the number of federal judges appointed by Biden to 188.
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animentality · 1 year
Text
You know that scene in John Wick 2 where he (John Wick) gets hit by a car and then he immediately fights the assassin driving that car, Cassian, and then they battle for like sixty minutes on the streets of Rome, shooting over cars, knife fighting, falling down a whole flight of stairs, and then grappling and grabbing each other on the cobblestones, yelling and grunting like a bunch of dudes having good old fashioned fun, and then finally they end up smashing right through a window and coincidentally landing in the assassin hotel "safe area" where they're not allowed to fight anymore...
and then they go and have a drink together?
I thought they should've fucked.
So I wrote a book about assassins who do that sort of thing regularly. Check it out here.
But I added what the scene was lacking, besides the fucking part...
Demons.
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The scene for anyone who doesn't remember or doesn't know it.
This book has:
an improbable amount of badass, LGBT, demon summoning assassins (the absolute best of the best being transgender).
a scott pilgrim style plot, involving one pansexual demon summoner having to fight all 7 of his exes for the sake of his newest contract.
a nonbinary weather controlling demon, trapped on earth. also, one of the exes.
a blind smartass with a nasty mouth and nastier eye-related powers.
a city on the brink of annihilation, trapped by forces unseen and unheard and unknowable.
the most bombastic and ridiculous magic system ever constructed by man.
and maybe...just maybe...an angsty gay time loop romance (the best narrative trope) but you didn't hear that from me.
It's dark, it's humorous, it's romantic, it's riddled with absolutely insane fight scenes, and most importantly...
It's unabashedly queer and unrealistic and silly and yearn-y.
And I'd really appreciate if you'd help an indie author out, with a sale or a reblog! Agents and publishers told me that it was too queer for regular audiences...and that the concept was just not very compelling.
They might be right, but it still had to exist. I still had to make it, anyway. You know. You have to make the art that you want to see in the world.
Anyway.
Sorry for the long post...you can check out my website for future releases.
And last thing: Character commission of the MC, our lovably slutty pansexual assassin Sebastián Monterey:
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And cheers! Sorry for the long post. Have a good night.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 6 months
Text
DD
Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver
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Commissioned art by @ejpuki on Instagram, same as the one above, this is just a link to the original post. Please support the artist 🖤
Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word Count 4.5k
Pt 2, Pt 3 1, Pt 3 2 , Pt 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9
T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol, drunkeness, mature language, implied masturbation, some sexual content/fantasizing, some self-deprecating language (reader is insecure), age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)
This is my first EVER fan fiction piece! If you have a crush on Miguel O'Hara from Across the Spider Verse, this is for you...
---
"Next song is for all the bad bitches in here tonight, let's make some noise." As soon as the song starts you recognize that it's Agora Hills and a switch goes off in your brain as you yank your friend, Hailey by the arm to the dance floor while she struggles to get the last sip of tequila sunrise down the hatch as the ice cubes attack her face.
It was a Saturday night, now very early Sunday morning in mid-November. You and your two friends are in a slightly seedy club in Brooklyn. Right now, all three of you are trying to escape the first-world problems of modern day society, and common issues that would plague late-twenty year old adults like stagnant jobs, anxiety-inducing texts from distant family members about plans for the holidays, and a casual fling that started to sour about 3 days ago.
Right now, all you want to do is dance to this song. And go home for some relief because the tequila is making you horny and your situationship hasn't texted you back for going on 16 hours now.
You and Hailey giggle as you both throw your heads back in bliss to the music, holding each other's pinkies as you try and awkwardly spin on the dance floor.
"Wait!" Hailey calls out and stutters as she lets go of you and tries to squeeze through a sea of musk, 5- Gum, and Bath and Body Works perfume back towards your other friend, Brin, who's still at the bar.
"Fuckkk. Whatever girl." You drunkenly roll your eyes and close them again, throwing your arms in the air, moving to the beat. The song is making you feel even more electrified than before. You toss your head back and move your hands from your shoulders, to your chest, down to your thighs. It's one of those moments where you feel dangerous.
God I love being a woman! You picture going home with a stranger. A tall man's lips crashing down on yours in your dark bedroom in drunken passion, falling backwards onto your bed. You picture yourself pulling your clothes off slowly while his hungry eyes scan your curves…
Your fantasy is interrupted when you feel a clammy hand touch your hip, just below where your see-through top ends. Your eyes shoot what you hope is an annoyed look at the offender. A brown haired guy in a white t-shirt with a flannel who looks like his name is Tanner, smirks at you as he moves past you, but not before letting his eyes dart to your cleavage line under your black bralette. You groan and move the other direction and realize Hailey and Brin are nowhere to be found. Your drunkeness wears off for one second as you slowly jerk around, trying to make your way towards the bar.
A tall brunette with a half sleeve tattoo, glasses, and her straight brown hair in a claw clip is counting her drawer.
"H-have you seen my friends?" you ask her stupidly. The tall brunette looks at you, her small sticker name tag on her baseball tee shirt reads "Reagan."
"I can't hear you, hunny." Reagan has seen this a million times. "Last call just ended. Do you have a ride home? I said, do you have a ride HOME?"
Reagan leans over the bar, holding onto your wrist. Her breath smells good at least.
"Okay look, can you hand me your phone please? Let me help you order an Uber." You blow air out of your lips like a horse and sloppily hand her your phone. "Enter your passcode, please."
You type in your passcode and watch the glint from your phone reflect on her glasses as she orders an Uber for you. Luckily, your address is already saved to the app. "Okay, sweetheart, wait here with me. Miguel is coming for you in 4 minutes." She hands you back your phone and credit card. "Sign here please."
Fuck, did I transfer that 200 from my savings before I got here? You think as you sign the receipt she hands you. The total is $58.75. You scrape the tiny excuse for a pocket inside your skirt and hand Reagan a crumpled up 20 as a tip. Reagan takes it, eyes widen a little bit at the sight of the 20.
Did she mean to give me this much?... Fuck it. She gives you a small, concerned grin.
"Thanks... let me get you some water."
You nod and slump your head forward on the sticky bar.
Suddenly Reagan is shaking your shoulder.
"Hey! Your ride's here!"
You realize you might have fallen asleep temporarily. The room is still moving like you're trying to balance on a waterbed. She places a styrofoam to-go cup in your hand filled with ice water as she grips your left arm.
"Here, just take off your shoes, hunny." She bends over and pulls off your clunky heels and holds them in her free hand. You feel like you're 4 years old. You feel tears well up at the sudden kindness.
"Okay hunny it's okay, come on now." She pulls you outside and to the curb where a black Audi is waiting. The cold air assaults your bare legs and your teeth start to chatter. The driver recognizes his passenger is quite inebriated and gets out, walking towards the struggling pair.
You feel your bedroom eyes creep up when you see him. Oh no, he's hotttt!
You curse in your head silently for not checking your reflection before he got there. You're sure you're a hot mess though.
He's tall, huge, even. Definitely way over six feet. Dark tousled hair with dreamy brown eyes underneath sculpted brows are locked on you as he gets closer. You instinctually run a hand through your hair, trying to make it look more voluminous. Probably a lost cause at this point.
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He's wearing black joggers with some worn Nikes. His black hoodie is baggy but you have a very good imagination. It covers a set of broad, wide shoulders and what you're sure are bold chest muscles underneath that lead to a delicious pair of V lines and an endearing happy trail of hair running down his belly button that lead directly to his-
"Can I carry something for you?" His rich voice pulls you out of your indecent thoughts for one second then sends you right back there again.
"Um, yes can you get her shoes please?" You hear Reagan's voice go up an octave.
Girlll me too. You think to yourself.
Miguel takes your heels in a pair of strong, large hands. As he does, he tugs his sleeve and checks a black Apple watch, veins running up a thick forearm. Called it. This guy was jacked. Probably a gym bro. Definitely has a girlfriend. You feel yourself get sucked back into reality. You were probably a 7/10 at best. And right now, probably a strong 4 after your shenanigans tonight.
Miguel opens the back door, allowing Reagan to tuck you in.
"Get home safe hunny," she says.
"Thank youuuu," you slur back to her as you sit, disheveled with your sippy cup of ice water in the backseat opposite of the driver's in front. Miguel gets in the driver's seat, the scent of Old Spice seeps in.
He smells good too?! You feel yourself wanting to sin. He sits in the front seat for a few moments in silence, fiddling with his phone.
"2949 Ocean Parkway?" he asks in his mesmerizing voice.
"Yeah, that's right." You feel yourself perk up. You're starting to sober up slightly but you still have enough liquid courage left to start asking him a lot more questions than you normally would.
"Your name's Miguel?"
"Yes," he answers. "Did you have a good night tonight?"
"I did! It was supposed to be girl's night, I'm not sure what happened to them, though."
"Your friends left you?" His dark eyes glance in the rearview mirror at you.
Sighhh "Yeah, I guess they did."
"You need better friends." One of his hands comes up and grips the shoulder of the passenger seat as he sits up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours for just a moment, then focus on the back window as he pulls out of the parallel parking spot. You can't help but stare at his chiseled jawline and his neck, imagining yourself planting a line of kisses on it while he groans and grits his teeth...
"You know what sounds amazing right now?" You ask in a flirty tone, interrupting your own dirty thoughts.
He cracked a small smile. "What's that?"
"Taco bellllll." You rest your cheek on the shoulder passengers seat, looking at him.
He glances at you, then keeps looking ahead as he drives.
"Well, if you want to update the route I'd be happy to stop anywhere you want."
You laugh.
"I don't know how to do thattt." The car comes up to a red light.
"Here, want help?" Miguel looks over at you as you hand him your phone which has the app still opened, courtesy of Reagan helping you from before. Miguel quickly types, his eyes going from the traffic light to your phone as he tries to enter the new address for the closest Taco Bell.
"Got it," he hands you back your phone, another whiff of his cologne coming off the fabric of his hoodie as he moves his arm back to rest on the center console while he drives with his left hand.
You glance down at your phone and then back at him, still leaning forward with your cheek pressed against the back of the passenger seat.
Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was curious about his new passenger, probably the last ride he'll do tonight. He didn't get a good look at you when the bartender was putting you in his car. He glanced over at you again when he thought you weren't looking, but quickly moved his eyes back to the road when he saw you were staring at him already with your cheek pressed against the passenger seat.
"You tired?"
"Kind of," you fake a small yawn while still holding your position.
Miguel laughed. He thought that was kind of amusing, how you were clearly faking being tired and shamelessly staring at him while he drove. He knew he was a good looking guy. Once you got into his car, he felt like he needed to take care of you and make sure you got home safe since your shitty friends wouldn't.
Your eyes wander to the space between his chest and the steering wheel, trying to imagine yourself in it, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hot, frantic, breaths fogged the windows as your bodies pressed together...
"So, y/n , right?" He asks.
Fuuuuck he said my name...
"Yeah..how did you know?! Oh right, the app, the app..."
Miguel smiles.
"So, Miguel, how is it being an Uber driver?" you ask. Feeling brave, you touch his elbow resting on the center console. Miguel's fist clenches tighter around the steering wheel at your touch.
"It's...not bad. It's been pretty busy tonight, actually. I went to the gym earlier then just have been taking a few folks like yourself around town who were going out as well. "
"That's nice. You know, we're gonna be best friends by the end of this drive," you grin, taking another sip of ice water.
"Really?" Miguel smirks. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Your heart flutters at this question. Why is he asking me that?!
"Uhm, no.. I was talking to a guy but I think he ghosted me."
"Heh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel replied, not sorry at all.
"Do girls ghost you? Or-uh, I mean- do you, do you have a girlfriend?" you manage to spit out.
Miguel smiles at your stutters.
"Nah, I'm single. I do have a daughter though."
Your smile disappears for a moment. A daughter? "Awhhh, what's her name? How old is she?"
"Her name's Gabriella. She's 6."
"That's sweet...." Miguel's handsomeness mixed with the liquor is enough to cause all rational thinking to exit your brain. I could be a step-mom, easy! I love kids, what the hell?
"So, how old are you?" You ask.
Miguel chuckles. "Isn't it rude to ask a stranger's age?" He glances over at you and the corner of his mouth raises at your slightly mortified expression. "I'm just messing with you- I'm 34."
"Dang, I'm 26," you answer as you look out the window.
"You're still pretty young," Miguel remarks as he turns down a new street.
"I definitely don't feel that way," you answer as you slump in your seat. You decide to check your email. Once you open it, a message that you don't want to see is at the very top. It's a random Yahoo email address you don't recognize which means only one thing: your asshole, estranged dad. You click on it quickly to clear the bold lettering indicating it's unread, and catch a quick glimpse of its contents which is a novel with no spacing. You quickly delete it with a loud sigh.
"Everything okay?" Miguel asks.
"Just my dad. Somehow he made another email address and tried to contact me again. It's a long story though we don't have to get into it..." your voice cracks slightly.
The skin around Miguel's eyes softens when you mention your tense relationship with your father. He himself knew that pain as well. His father, George O'Hara, wasn't a model parent, either.
"I'm sorry you're going through that," Miguel says emphatically. "I don't have the best relationship with my dad, either."
Once you hear this, the last bit of liquid courage in your system inspires you to spill the tea.
"He and my mom are divorced, and, well he's just a narcissist, right? Growing up, I didn't see it, but his whole family is full of them. My grandma never wanted him to marry my mom and so ever since their wedding day, she treated her like shit and when I came along, it was no different. I used to wonder why at Christmases she got bigger presents for the other grandkids and ask why she didn't show up for my birthday parties. My dad never did anything about it and always took their side. I finally realized it when I was about 16 when they divorced, and that's when I said fuck it. If you're not gonna stick up for my mom or me, I don't really want anything to do with you or your family."
Miguel nodded, just listening to you speak, glancing at you in the rearview mirror so you knew he was paying attention.
"Wow, I must say, that sounds horrible. Good on you for sticking up for yourself and your mother. As a parent myself, I can't ever imagine treating my own child or their family that way..."
You sigh.
"Yeah, shit's fucked. But there's nothing I can do about it, you know? I just don't have the strength to talk to him right now. But he never fails to try to reach out about this time every year. Since it's the holidays."
The car arrives at another red light. This time, Miguel turns around to face you while you're stopped, his eyes directly looking into yours.
"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you. No matter how hard it is. I know that most people think that family is everything, but, truth is sometimes they can hurt you the most." Miguel then turns back to the wheel.
You feel a flutter in your stomach as though an invisible spark appeared. You were strongly physically attracted to your handsome Uber driver, no doubt about it, but after hearing him speak, you realize there's more behind his captivating features. You feel the very beginning of a connection starting to form and suddenly you wish you had all night to talk to him. Miguel felt the same way, too. In fact, he was going 5 miles under the speed limit and riding the slow lane to try and prolong the encounter. Luckily, you were still too tipsy to notice.
"Well, this should cheer you up..." Miguel pulls the car into the Taco Bell parking lot. You groan internally when you realize you're going to have to go inside. You step out of the car, the cold air assaulting your bare skin again. Miguel notices you shivering.
"Here." Without hesitation, he peels off his hoodie and hands it to you. You want to die as soon as you put it on, and once you see him standing there without it on. He's even more toned than you realize. He's wearing a grey athletic shirt that hugs his broad shoulders just right, his defined chest and ab muscles tapering off into a narrow waist. His hoodie is still warm and smells intoxicating. You feel your hormones going crazy when you bring the collar of the hoodie to your mouth and nose, shamelessly getting drunk on the scent he left behind...
You do a mini sprint to catch up to him as he's already making his way towards the restaurant.
Miguel looks at you from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. He adores the way his oversized clothes drown you. The hoodie is big enough to be a dress on you. He imagines this would be how you two would look together getting a bite to eat, only after making you scream his name 30 minutes before....
You and Miguel enter the Taco Bell and he gives an awkward grin as he holds the door open for you.
"Why don't you sit down or use the restroom if you need, let me order for you," Miguel says.
Your heart melts, but you decide you better seem modest with your order.
"Umm just a gordita crunch, small Baja blast, and a 2 pack of Cinnabon delights please."
Miguel smiles. "You got it." Suddenly, he feels close to you. You trusting him to order food for you and take you home after a rough night out while letting you wear his clothes.
While you go into the bathroom, he approaches the counter.
"Hello, I need two gordita crunches, a large Baja Blast, and a 12 pack of Cinnabon delights, please" He takes out his card and pays for the food without a second thought.
Meanwhile, you come out of the bathroom after cleaning up a bit, still wrapped in his warm hug of a hoodie and wait near the door. Miguel strolls over with your food and grins at you.
"Are you ready to go?" You nod and grin back and you two make your way back to his car. Suddenly, you realize.
"Do you have Venmo? Let me know how much I owe you."
"Absolutely not." Miguel answers firmly. "Here, why don't you sit up front this time?" He opens the passenger door for you. You beam at him.
Is this real? Is this guy really doing all this for me and I just met him? You've never had a man treat you this well. Not even your last relationship could be bothered to hold a door open for you or pull out a chair. You get in and Miguel hands you your bag of food, the delicious aroma making your stomach growl. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion when you realize there's a lot more food in the bag than you told him to order originally. Miguel gets in the car and starts to drive again.
"Did, did you order extra food for me?" You laugh as you turn to him. Miguel gives you a small half smile but says nothing. You take a bite of the gordita crunch and let out a loud, "Mmmmmmm!" Just what you've been craving all night.
"Thank you, thank you so much you have no idea..." Your sentence tapers off as you stuff one of the piping hot Cinnabons into your mouth.
"You're very welcome." Miguel answers as you arrive at another red light. You realize Miguel didn't get himself anything.
"Do you want a Cinnabon bite?" You hold the box and give it a little shake.
Miguel offers a polite smile. "No thanks, those are all for you."
"Whaat, you can't turn down one of these. Have you even had these before?" You say playfully.
He chuckles at your playful tone. "I haven't, actually. But I trust your judgement."
"Come onnn...it's the LEAST I can do after everything you've done for me tonight. You're seriously gonna make me feel SO bad if you don't take at LEAST one." You give the box a couple shakes as if it's going to entice him more.
Miguel sighs. "Alright, you got me. I'll try one."
You smile wide as he takes one of the Cinnabon bites from the box you're holding in an outstretched hand. Your smile almost breaks your face as you see his reaction to his first bite.
"Jesus.." he mutters as his brows furrow in disbelief. He looks down at the remaining bite in his fingers as though he can't comprehend its existence. "That's spectacular, actually."
"Have another one!" You beam.
"Don't mind if I do." Miguel pops another one in his mouth and he brakes again at another red light.
He glances over at you and notices a little bit of taco sauce on the corner of your lip. "You got something..."
Suddenly, your heart stops as he raises his hand to your face, cupping your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, while his middle finger cradles your chin. His lips part in concentration as he gently presses his thumb against the corner of your mouth, retrieving the smudge of taco sauce. Your mouth falls open a little bit too. He gives you a little smile as he brings his thumb to his own mouth, cleaning the sauce from his finger.
That might have been the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. At this point, all you want to do is grab his face and make out with it. Traffic be damned, your runny mascara be damned, your deflated hair be damned, you don't care anymore about any of that. He could ask you to do anything and you'd give it to him without hesitation.
Miguel is thinking the same thing. He did that on purpose. If it wasn't anymore obvious he wanted you right now then he wasn't sure what was. His gaze falls back to your lips. He suddenly realizes you've begun to lean in closer to him. Your noses are inches away from each other. God, he wanted you. To lick passionately into your mouth with his tongue. Being able to hold you and grip your ass as though he was a starved man who couldn't get closer to you even if he tried. Watching your brow furrow with pleasure, hearing your voice and watching your breath fog his windows and the heat rising in his body knowing he was the cause...
Reality busts in like the Kool-Aid man.
She was drinking tonight. You just met her. She's your passenger. Technically, you're still working right now...No, it's not right...
Miguel pulls away suddenly, and, as if the universe has his back, the traffic light turns green and he presses the gas, driving once more. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to pound again.
Doesn't he like me? What happened....? What did I do....? Did I misread the signs? I wanna hide in my room for the rest of my fucking life now.
You clear your throat and take a long sip of Baja Blast. The uncomfortable silence and tension becomes a thick fog. You recognize your apartment building coming into view and your heart sinks.
"Home sweet home..." Miguel pulls into the parking lot. "Is here a good place to drop you off?"
"Yeah..." You try to make your tone sound like it's back to business. Miguel nods and grips the steering wheel with both fists in the 12 o' clock position as he watches you gather your things.
Ask for her number, you fucking pussy... Truth is, when it came to matters of the heart, Miguel's heart was glass.
"Thank you for the ride and the food, and, and just everything..." you step out of his car, defeated. You really didn't want to be the one to make the first move. If he really wanted to he would...
Miguel looks back at you with a neutral expression.
"Of course. You have a safe night, now." He starts to pull away.
"Miguel!" You realize you're still wearing his hoodie and you go to take it off.
He looks at you through the rolled down window, still driving away and shoots you a gorgeous smile and shakes his head at you in refusal, giving you one last wink that nearly knocks you over.
You sigh with frustration and watch his car disappear into the night, trying to memorize his license plate but your brain is hazy and the numbers on it escape your mind as soon as they enter. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you might be able to contact him through the Uber app...
No no, you let him talk to you first. Did your last situationship teach you nothing, you dumb hoe?! Don't be that desperate girl...
You wrap the droopy arms of his hoodie around yourself as you walk up the stairs and take a deep sniff...burying yourself in his scent so you never ever forget it. Even if he didn't want to spend the night holding you, you could go to bed with a huge smile on your face knowing you walked away with a piece of his clothing, the essence of what he left behind wrapped around your body all night long. An intangible connection that bound you two together...
Miguel sighed as he drove away. He just didn't have the bravery tonight. He didn't want to come across as creepy. The reality is, you were a slightly intoxicated stranger, a vulnerable woman younger than him, and he didn't want to abuse his power over you in that way. He looked at the empty passenger seat next to him and laid one of his hands on it, feeling the warmth you left behind. Trying to remember the way your thighs pillowed on it...the way your soft lips opened in shock when he wiped the sauce from your mouth, the small line of saliva from you that he caught on his thumb and licked into his own mouth..
He inhaled deeply, his jaw tensing and speed on the road increasing as he felt his body getting hot... He tried to lock your perfume in his nose for as long as he could, imagining himself inhaling it directly from your soft neck... holding onto the remainder of your presence, just...just until he could get home and relieve himself of his dire wants...
You, the perfect stranger who found herself in the passenger seat of his car tonight, and unknowingly wound up in the back of his mind for good...
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Hope you liked it! Thank you SO much for reading. ❤️ Part 2 is coming soon!
Pt 2
473 notes · View notes
just-a-creep-babe · 7 months
Text
A Demon’s Ache — Part 18
Eyeless Jack x Reader
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you so so much for your patience and kindness and support, I really hope you enjoy! ^^ 💝💖💗
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
He should leave
He should get the fuck out of your room so that he can actually think straight and figure out what to do
But he just can’t
You look so peaceful in his embrace, so sweet and innocent
He can’t bring himself to just abandon you
His thoughts are racing a mile a minute as he tries to figure things out
He’s not the most knowledgeable about demon marks and what they mean, but he knows enough to understand that they’re serious
His first order of business, he realizes, should be research
If there’s any way to undo them, or at least minimize the effects, he should give it a shot
And the sooner he does it, the higher chance he has to fix this
Which brings him all the way back to square one; he should leave
He looks down at you
Your eyes are closed, brows relaxed, lips parted just the slightest bit as you breathe in slow, long breaths
He can practically feel the blood running through your veins, hear the way it pumps to your organs by the steady rhythm of your heart
Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump
He swallows thickly, his mouth watering at the temptation of your flesh
He’s fucking salivating
He has to leave—now
But right as he shifts beneath you, you murmur something in your sleep and he freezes in place
He woke you up
He woke you up and now you’re going to see the mark and you’re going to loathe him for doing this to you
He flinches, bracing himself for the worst possible outcome
But all you do is nuzzle deeper into him, still half-asleep, and relief like no other washes over him
He can’t leave, he realizes
He should be there when you discover the mark
Even if it scares him—even if it absolutely terrifies him—he shouldn’t avoid this
He’s the one who created this mess; he has to be the one who deals with it too
He buries his face into your hair and breathes in deeply
Your scent is as soothing as always
He’ll figure it out, everything’s going to be ok
As long as he has you, everything’s going to be alright
It takes a short while, but eventually, you slowly start stirring awake
You mumble his name, pressing your face into the crook of his neck to avoid the glare of the sunlight, and he hums in response
Don’t think about the mark, don’t panic, don’t make it obvious something’s wrong
Part of him wants to outright blurt it out, but another part of him, a more dominant part of him, wants to savour every second he can before admitting to it
And it’s wrong
And he knows it’s wrong to withhold this kind of information from you, but fuck, how can he resist the temptation of your ignorance for just a moment longer?
You stretch your stiff limbs out, eyelashes tickling his jawline as you blink away the sleep clouding your mind
You hum peacefully, as if waking up next to him is nothing short of blissful, and that knot of guilt tightens in his stomach
Reaching up from under the comforter, your fingertips trace over Jack’s chest, moving all the way up his collarbone to his neck, and finally, over his Adam’s apple
He has to resist the urge to swallow down his heartache out of fear you might somehow feel it
But even then, even despite everything, your touch is so gentle, so soft
He can’t remember the last time anyone treated him with so much warmth, so much kindness
His eyelids instinctively flutter close over the messy black tar dripping from his sockets
And as he does, it’s like he can almost trick himself into believing things are different
He can almost pretend you’re both human, and you’re waking up in your shared bedroom in the apartment you both picked out together
He can act like it’s a quiet Saturday morning, and it’s a sunny day outside, and the birds are chirping and neither of you have anything planned
You’re both free to relax, to spend as much time in bed as the both of you want, and any minute now, he’s going to get up to make you breakfast while you prepare the coffee
“Come shower with me”
He’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice, still gravelly and laced with sleep
When he reopens his eyes, he finds you smiling, still evidently sleepy, and the sight makes his heart flutter in his chest
“Mmh,” he makes a noise of agreement in his throat, and your smile grows
How’re you so effortlessly gorgeous?
You sit up, lazily stretching your arms over your head, and the motion causes the sheets to fall from your form, exposing the entirety of your naked back to him
He’s at a loss for words
The way your skin stretches over your curves, the way the morning light dances over your body—you look ethereal
He wants to reach out, wants to touch every inch of your skin—he wants to worship you
But then you roll your neck out to ease the stiffness in your muscles, and in doing so, it reveals that deep blemish on your skin once more
It’s all it takes for his perfect moments to fall apart, crumbling like ashes in the breeze
Fuck
What the fuck kind of mess did he get the both of you into?
Completely oblivious to his dilemma, to the pained mix of emotions blooming in his chest, you turn to him with that gentle smile on your face
“You coming?”
He can’t keep his hands off you in the shower
It’s hot and steamy, and the space is just small enough to give him an excuse to press up so wonderfully close to you
Warm water glides off your body, outlining every dip and curve of your form, and he finds himself tracing over it, almost absent-minded, like he’s under a spell
You’ve bewitched him
You stand on the tip of your toes, and he almost thinks you’re about to kiss him, but all you do is reach behind him for the soap, and he has to hide his disappointment
“Let me help you,” you murmur
He nods, and then you’re lathering up his skin and touching him all over
You start at his chest, fingers dancing over both his pecs and in the valley of his hard muscles
You follow an invisible path over both his shoulders, feeling the broad expanse of them at the same time, and then move all the way down to his biceps
He wonders what’s going through your mind
All he can think about is, again, how no one else has ever been so loving with his body—especially not after his transformation
He wonders if, despite your kindness, some part of you wishes his skin was a normal human colour, or a normal human firmness
He wonders if you would’ve maybe agreed to officially date him if he wasn’t what he is
You move down to his forearms, then trace all the way back up his shoulders and down his chest until the whole top portion of his body’s clean
You seem to inhale sharply as you continue down to his torso
Down his stomach, your fingertips smooth over the ridges of his muscles before reaching his V-line
There’s no hiding it any longer, no hiding his desire for you
He’s worried it’ll put you off, but then he smells your arousal even through the soap’s perfume, and he realizes it’s mutual
Either way, you still don’t make any moves to initiate anything, so neither does he
He simply lets you clean him, lets you touch his body to your heart’s content until you’re reaching down to his calves and the next thing he knows, you’re kneeling before him and his dick is inches from your face
You bite your lip, glancing up at him, and that look in your eyes has him twitching right in front of you
You don’t have to do this, he wants to say, he appreciates it and everything but it’s really not necessary
But then you lean up and press a kiss to his tip and god, he wants to throat-fuck you so fucking badly
Your lips are perfectly soft as you kiss him again, and then you part your mouth open to stick your tongue out and lap at the precum dribbling from his slit
“Fuck, (y/n)”
He groans out a gravelly curse, throwing his head back as his hips jut forward in search of more
When you roll your tongue over his tip, lavishing the most sensitive part of his cock with attention, he has to grind his teeth together to prevent a snarl from rippling out
He snaps a hand out to tangle into your hair because he needs something to stabilize himself
And at the same time, it provides the perfect opportunity to drag you forwards, pressing you closer up against his cock so you’ve almost no choice but to swallow him down
You whimper around him, and feeling you do so drives him wild
He tries to let you suck him off at your own pace, he really does
But he just can’t resist impatiently pushing and pulling at your hair, all while his hips instinctively jerk forward, trying to cram more of himself down your throat, trying to feel more of you around him
And he feels bad for making you gag around him, but at the same time, fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing ever
He growls your name, bringing his other hand up to your hair, and when you look up at him, your eyes all watery and pleading, he slowly but surely feels his grasp on his self-control slipping
How can he resist face-fucking such a pretty little thing like you?
You almost seem to want it as much as he does, too
Squeezing your eyes shut with your brows furrowing in concentration, you slacken your jaw and stick your tongue out, creating just the perfect entrance for him to fuck however he pleases
Your lips stretch out around his thick cock, your cute little muffled whimpers making him pulse on your tongue with every thrust
He should be ashamed of the way he’s using you—but you just feel so fucking good
Watching you struggle to choke down his length is almost just as satisfying as the way your throat keeps tightening around him
Combined with the way your arousal’s filling the air—it’s bliss
He snarls something indistinct, thrusting hard and fast enough to make his balls slap against your chin every time he reaches the very back of your throat
And the combination of it all has his stomach tightening, but it’s just not enough to cum
No—he wants to save that to breed you
A few more seconds of enjoyment is all he allows himself before he pulls you off of him
He’s panting, chest heaving as he takes a moment to recover from the euphoria of your mouth
His cock is aching for more
“C’mere,” he says, and there’s that demonic lilt to his voice he can’t always control as he helps you back up again, “s’my turn to clean you”
Even though it’s hard to focus, even though all he can think about is bending you over and screwing your pretty little brains out, he tries his best to be as caring and considerate as you’d been with him
He lathers you up with soap, using it as an excuse to touch you even more, to massage every inch of your body
His hands savour the curves of your sides, from your chest to your waist, down to your hips and thighs, and then all the way back up to your chest again
He doesn’t fail to notice the way your breath hitches when his touch grazes over your tits—of course he doesn’t, he never doesn’t notice—so he allows himself the indulgence of squeezing them
They fit wonderfully in his palms, even as he grabs and toys with them at his leisure
You arch your back up, trying to push more of your chest into his hands, and if he wasn’t so turned on right now, he might chuckle at how needy you’re being
He tugs and pinches at your nipples, and when you make a breathy little whimper, it has him throbbing
“So good, little one, you’re doing so fucking good for me”
He’s so fucking horny
He drags his fingers along the inner flesh of your thighs, teasing at your sensitive skin
“You want it, little morsel, you want this?”
It’s not like he doesn’t know the answer, it’s not like he can’t tell how desperate you are when you nudge your legs further apart for him
But he wants to hear you say it
“Y-yes, Jack—please. Please, I want you~”
A slave to your every whim and desire as always, he pushes his fingers between your folds, and the both of you groan in unison as he stretches you out
He can just imagine you clenching around his cock instead of his digits
When he curls his finger just the right way, a moan bubbles from your parted lips and you stumble in place, like you almost can’t handle just how good he feels
With his free hand, he lifts your leg up, hooking it around his hip and pressing your back to the shower wall
You’ve nowhere to squirm, nowhere to escape
All you can do is take it
In and out, he pumps his fingers into your velvety walls until your thighs are shaking and your mewls are getting louder than the sound of the water hitting the tiles
Your shaky hands reach out to dig crescents into his skin, and the pain mixing in with his insatiable lust is such a wonderfully heady combination
When you moan his name again, he realizes he can’t wait any longer
He pulls his fingers out, lifts you up and presses your back to the shower wall so you're completely trapped against his muscular build
And then he aligns himself to your entrance, his thick tip catching at the edges of your entrance before finally, finally, he sinks all the way in
It's heaven
The way you suck him in, the way your walls flutter around him—you're divine
You shift in his hold, like you're trying to accommodate to the sheer size of him, and it has the plush flesh of your ass grinding right against his balls
He tries to hold back a moan, but part of it escapes him in a gravelly rumble, and you seem to tense around him when it does
With you clinging onto him like this, he doesn't even need to move his hips to fuck himself into you
All he does is lift you up and lower you back down, using your own weight as momentum, and the simple motion already has you whimpering and gushing around his cock
"Fuck, morsel~"
You're making his head spin
He's dizzy, already drunk off your sex
Up and down, up and down, he uses you like a toy, barely flinching from your weight even despite how much you keep squirming
The way you keep jutting your hips against him—like you're either trying to help or just too fucking horny to stay still—is so fucking adorable
Saliva filling his mouth at the temptation of it all—at the temptation of you and those little sounds you keep making and the smell of your arousal and god, just everything that makes you so infuriatingly irresistible—he presses his head into the crook of your neck, trying to hide the fact that he's very much so on the verge of drooling over you
But then he sees it again—sees that mark he left on your skin with his teeth, claiming you as his mate, and even though he should be fucking disgusted that he gave it to you without your consent, it instead has the opposite effect and it makes him snap
His
You're his—it's physically undeniable
It's like the realization really sinks in during the heat of the moment, now that he's too sex-drunk and shameless to care, and something about his instincts and his possessiveness just completely takes over
Animalistically fast and deliciously hard, he fucks into you like an animal in heat
With every thrust, he slams you down onto his cock and jerks his hips up into you, making the flesh of your thighs jiggle from the rush of actions as the smacking of his pelvis against yours fills the room
He's not entirely sure if he's hitting your cervix or your g-spot, too dazed in his fervor to care, but he knows he must be hitting something good because you're screaming for him
And it doesn't take long for your muscles to seize and your body to start shaking uncontrollably, and it's hard to tell because of all the water from the shower, but you're either squirting all over him or just getting really, really messy all of a sudden
His cock pulses and twitches between clenching walls, and you're squeezing him so hard it's almost painful but fuck if the pain doesn't feel good
Your body is so small and so delicate compared to his, but he can't bring himself to have the restraint he normally has
He's done controlling himself—he wants to wreck you
It all gets a bit blurry like it normally does when he loses himself to his instincts
The next thing he knows, he has you bent over the bathroom sink in front of the mirror, and the both of you are still dripping from the shower, which is still running in the background, but he couldn't care less
All he cares about is breeding you
He's never felt such a powerful urge to do so like this before
Your shaky hands claw helplessly at the ceramic of the sink, as if that could help you get a grip, but it's no use because he won't stop until he's ruined you
When he looks at your reflection, he finds that your eyes have rolled back and your mouth is parted in a mix of silent screams, broken gasps and dumb babbles of his cock splitting you in half, but that's not what he wants
He wants you to look at him when he pumps the entirety of his load inside you
Which is why, with one hand bruising your thigh to force you in place, force you still for him fuck you open, the other reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your gaze up
"Look at me, little whore—look at me when I fill you up, when I breed that perfect cunt and make you all mine"
It's like he doesn't have control of his actions or his words because even he barely recognizes that demonic snarl lacing his tone
It almost sounds like he’s threatening you
"Beg, my little bitch, beg for your mate's cum"
It's hard to distinguish any coherent words in your desperate babbling, and even in the unfocused reflection of your eyes, he can tell you're overstimulated, overwhelmed, struggling to accept every inch of his cock brutally pounding into your walls
But watching you struggle to obey him and feeling you struggle around him like writhing prey turns him on so fucking badly
He wants to give it all to you—you deserve to take it all
Which is why, with one final resounding thrust, he sheathes himself all the way inside you, sealing his hips into yours so that his cock is as deep as it'll go
You're on the very tip of your toes, the whole weight of your body supported almost solely by his pelvis in order to dig his cock into you
And with an inhuman sound, he finally cums
It feels good
It feels so, so good; better than any other orgasm he's ever experienced
It's like his whole body is alive, thrumming with a rush of adrenaline as ecstasy floods his veins
His body lurches forwards, jaw flexing shut as he somehow manages to resist sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade
And your little whimpers and gasps are just as fucking cute as ever
His orgasm is long and hard, and even after his high has reached its peak, he stays sheathed inside you
He's thoroughly wrecked your body; he can tell by how limp you've gone, letting yourself be held up only by him and the counter and nothing else
And he realizes he should pull out, give you a moment to rest and offer any and all aftercare you might need
But he doesn't want his cum to spill out of you
He wants to stay connected to you for as long as possible
And after all, why shouldn't he?
You're his mate
587 notes · View notes
gurugirl · 4 months
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Can We Start Over | Ch. 4 The Exit Strategy
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 4. Summary: It's hard for Harry to overcome not feeling a bit hurt after you left him the way you did but there are bigger issues you need to tackle, like the fact that Harry's doing something shady as well as figuring out how you feel about him.
Word Count: 9k
Warning: 18+ only, feelings of confusion and turmoil, angst, illegal dealings
Can We Start Over? masterlist
Harry woke up alone in your hotel room. He sat up and rubbed his hand over his chest and he couldn’t help but smile thinking about what had happened the night before.
But he couldn’t figure out exactly where you’d gone. He peeked into your bathroom and then stepped into his room, “Y/n?” You were nowhere to be seen. The smile he wore fell when he realized you weren’t there. Perhaps you’d just stepped out for a moment? But why? Harry looked at the clock to see it was only just past 7 am. For coffee perhaps?
Harry slid on a pair of pants and the shirt he wore the night before as he found his shoes and his key card. He figured he’d go find you. Something told him you hadn’t simply stepped out to grab a coffee.
“Y/n?” You quickly turned and saw Harry heading toward you. You’d been sitting in the lobby looking out the window. It was rainy. You’d planned on a walk but weren’t too fond of getting yourself all wet just so you could go through your existential crisis outside.
Standing up from your spot you gave him a weak smile.
“What are you doing? Is everything okay?” Harry stood in front of you and dropped his eyes over your frame. He looked frazzled. His shirt was mostly left unbuttoned and his hair was a mess. But the way he seemed worried had you suddenly feeling bad for the way you left him. But it wasn’t like you could stay either.
“I uh…” you scratched at your neck and frowned, “Needed some air. Needed to think about last night.”
“Okay. But did I do something wrong?”
You blinked your eyes and looked toward the front desk where someone had approached reception before looking back at him, “No, you didn’t. I woke up and realized… it didn’t feel right.”
Harry stood with his mouth agape for a moment before he began to shake his head, “Let’s go back up to the room to talk. We can’t do this here.”
You nodded, “Okay.”
He had turned around before you could even get out a response. He could tell by your demeanor what was going on. You regretted it. And now he felt like shit. He braced himself mentally for you to reject him.
The silence on the way up to your room was loud. Harry had his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes down. He was clearly going over in his mind what had gone wrong.
And you figured maybe he’d give you the silent treatment once you got into your room but the moment the door was closed behind you he started, “Did I do something wrong, Y/n? Tell me the truth.”
You shook your head and looked at his face, “No. Of course not. I wanted it. I just…” you sighed and sat down in the chair by the window. Your head was fuzzy. Not only had you gotten little sleep everything with Harry was confusing. Your feelings surrounding him didn’t make any sense.
“You just what?” He leaned his back into the wall across from you and crossed his arms over his chest again. Now he looked like he was becoming angry.
“I feel like that was a big mistake. I should have known better than to do that.”
“Are you serious? You felt like that was a mistake?” He gestured with his arm before tucking it back against his chest.
Nodding you put your palms on your thighs and looked down, “It just can’t happen ever again. We shouldn’t have done it. I regret it.”
There it was. Harry pushed himself off the wall and laughed as he shook his head, “Wow. Okay. I asked you if you wanted it. If you were comfortable… But now you’re telling me it was a mistake? How do you think this makes me feel? Waking up alone thinking I was gonna have you there with me in bed. Really thought you were okay with it. Fuck…”
You watched him pace the room, “Last night I wanted it. I just… I woke up and felt like this shouldn’t have happened.”
Harry nodded and put his hands on his hips as he watched the floor, “Fine. You win. This back and forth between us,” he looked at you, “No more. That’s why I was cold toward you, and kept you at a distance, Y/n because it’s easier for me to be that way. The moment you wanted us to be amicable… I tried. But I hear you now. Loud and clear.”
Needless to say, the flight back was like torture. Harry hardly spoke to you and he certainly didn’t look at you. You had to jog to keep up with him half the time. Part of you was worried that he’d have the driver leave without you when he was already outside at the car and you were struggling with your suitcase which had lost one of its wheels somehow.
He finally did speak to you when you arrived at his home, “You’re free to do as you please today. No work. I’m gonna go out. We’ll get back to it in the morning.”
And that was it. You didn’t see him after he went to his room and you didn’t hear him leave but you knew he did.
“We had sex.” You called Brandy as you walked around in the back garden, after making sure you were totally alone and no one could overhear you.
“I knew you would, he–“
“No. It’s not like, Brandy. I hate that I did. I feel awful. I feel like I disrespected myself for it. What he did to me? That first night? How can I even feel attraction toward him? Sure he apologized and I understand what happened, but the fact remains, he treated me like garbage.”
“Y/n, don’t beat yourself up. You’re only human. And you two do have a connection, even if it’s small. He likes you. But it’s okay to not do it again. You still have a job right?”
You sighed, “Yeah. I don’t think he’ll fire me but… I don’t know if I can handle working for him anymore. What if something happens again? I’m just gonna keep feeling bad and Harry’s gonna get mad. Like now. He’s pissed.”
“Why is he pissed?”
“Because he woke up and I wasn’t there and told him it was a mistake so now he feels responsible I guess. I don’t know. He’s not really been talking to me since I told him I regret it.”
There was silence from Brandy for a beat as you sat on the bench under the trees at the far end of the garden.
“Was it good at least?”
You rolled your eyes, “Brandy…” you said in warning.
“Hey. I’m your best friend. You don’t have to act all high and mighty with me. You had sex with him again. Was it good? Like, at least if it was good then you can walk away knowing you had one last good time.”
“Of course it was. He’s good. But that’s really not the point, Brandy.”
“I know it’s not the point. I’m trying to get details from you is all. I’m nosey and what can even I say to make you feel better anyway? I feel like sometimes you take yourself way too seriously, Y/n. It could be good to lighten up a little. I know this feels like a big deal to you. I get it. I’m here to listen but there’s nothing anyone can say to you or anything you can do to reverse what happened. I’m here for you but truly. You could just calm down a little. Lighten up a touch.”
“Lighten up? Are you saying this is somehow my fault?”
“I didn’t say that. Why does this have to be anyone’s fault? Why point fingers? Shit happens. Why do you always need someone to blame?”
You sighed and closed your eyes, “I know. I like things neatly categorized and this is so not neat or categorized… I just feel like since I don’t know where to put this feeling it has to have a reason. But you’re right. The reason is just that…”
“Is just that you’re human and you gave in to a very human need. So did he. You both did nothing wrong in this case. I mean, maybe not the best idea to sleep with your boss, but like…” she laughed.
“Yeah, that’s another thing that’s hard for me to wrap my mind around. I slept with my boss. How do I go from here?”
Brandy chuckled into the receiver, “God you’re so dramatic, Y/n. I love you but you take shit way too seriously sometimes. Some things don’t need to be explained. Okay? Now you’ve got what you want, right? He’s probably not going to be flirty with you anymore after this since you told him it was a mistake. No more sex with the boss.”
You and Brandy were pretty much opposites when it came to personalities. She was light-hearted and went with the flow, while you were serious and liked order. You knew she was too light-hearted at times, though. Some things were serious and did need explanations so you could learn from them and never do it again.
But sometimes she was right. She had a good point about this issue. What could be done? You’d told Harry your feelings about sleeping with him again and even if it did hurt his feelings or make him mad you did what you felt was right for yourself. And that was that. What more could you do?
.           .           .
Harry walked through his front door sweaty after his run. It was 8:30 am. Your mornings usually started at 8. When you’d gone into his office and he wasn’t there you set up your laptop and then went down to the kitchen to get coffee.
It was unlike him. Normally he was ready for the day before you’d even woken up.
You watched him walk past you, not a single word as he went upstairs where you imagined he would go shower and then he’d join you in his office after he was done.
Except he didn’t go into his office. You were sat in your usual spot and responding to a couple of emails before you saw one from him.
Book two business class seats (not together) to Buenos Aires for the Friday after next, returning Sunday. See the attached for the email of the person we’ll be meeting and book the hotel he recommended. Set up our meetings and get the wire information from him in advance. Send to me before finalizing anything so I can look it over.
You frowned at this. You didn’t like that he was emailing you rather than speaking to you. You didn’t want him angry with you but you supposed this might be better than him being too friendly.
Harry’s attitude the rest of the week was the same. He only spoke to you when it was absolutely necessary. Not once did you find his gaze on you. No smiles or laughing. Nothing.
You hadn’t expected him to be so cold with you. You figured the boundaries you were placing with him were good ones. That he’d come around and understand why they needed to be established.
But instead of him being nice to you and having evening chats in his kitchen after Carl left and getting to know him slowly, he was completely shut off. You could say that he was being professional with you. Which was what you wanted.
Not like this, though. Not with barely a glance or a friendly smile. Not a single dimple showed itself to you over the next weeks.
And now here you were with him in Argentina where you should be enjoying red wine and empanadas but instead, you were sitting quietly while he conducted his meeting with the seller.
You said no to wine. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t push you. In fact, you heard him let out an annoyed short laugh and a mumbled suit yourself.
The man you were meeting with had a small stone sculpture that was considered an ancient artifact. You didn’t know how it was that he procured the item but it seemed like something that should have been in a museum. You did learn that many years ago it was considered stolen or lost. That didn’t sit well with you.
And when you tried to confront Harry about that he said nothing. He did look at you. His severe gaze sliced into you before he looked back at his computer and continued doing whatever it was.
You wanted to ask more questions. The man wasn’t even a gallery owner or someone from whom you’d normally buy art. The whole thing was shady. Something was off and Harry was giving you nothing.
But when you heard the price tag of the item you coughed and your eyes widened. The three of you were in a small dark room with shelves and boxes and the sculpture was sitting on a table under a light as Harry carefully inspected it.
“It’s legit. This is the real thing. I’ll let you look this over,” the man handed Harry a manila folder, “…you can see the paper trail. Where it stops. The timeline matches up. I’ll give you three hours to make a decision but after that, I have to move it to a safer location. I hope you understand the time constraint.”
You and Harry left the building, in silence as became your norm, and got into the car to head back to the hotel.
You watched Harry look through the paperwork and check the provenance but you knew this item was not going to have everything in place since it seemed it had been lost for some time. Big red flag. Perhaps this was what made Harry the kind of money he had. Dealing with lost or stolen artifacts was big money and definitely illegal. He had told you that he never did anything illegal.
Back at the hotel, Harry pointed, “Meet me in my room. Get your laptop. We have some work to do if we want to make this deal in the next three hours.”
You felt nervous. Felt sick to your stomach. Something was amiss about this whole deal and you didn’t like it. You weren’t sure you wanted to be involved at all.
When you got to Harry’s room he was on the phone with someone, “I saw it in person. It’s real. They are asking 2 but I can talk them down to 1.7. From there you and I can discuss what you’re willing to pay me but with the risk I’m taking I’d want a minimum of 2.5.”
He was discussing money. And you knew he was talking millions. The risk was that it was something that should not be on the market to purchase.
You waited for him to get off the phone before you spoke up, “Is this an illegal transaction?”
Harry looked down at his cell phone and typed something in before looking at you, unaffected, “No. I told you. Nothing I do is technically illegal.”
“I don’t want this to come back to bite me. If I’m involved in this and something happens? I could be linked somehow and I don’t  –“
“Nothing is going to happen other than a huge payout. Just do your job, Y/n. I need you to find everything you can about this,” he clicked his phone and looked back at you, “Just sent it to your email. Look through everything and compare it to the photos I attached. Go down the checklist attached and make notes. The item had some damage and I need to get his rate down so my client will be happy with the price.”
You got to work. Even if you were hesitant a bit, you didn’t want to disappoint Harry. He was your boss above all. And you were stuck in Argentina with him.
But the more you learned the worse it was. The item had been stolen during World War II. Now that was a long time ago but still. You understood why what Harry was doing wasn’t “technically” illegal. Because the client would be the one wiring the full amount and from there, Harry would meet in person with the client to get his cut once you got back to the U.S and he handed the item over to them. It was illegal but it wouldn’t come back to Harry. His name wouldn’t be associated with the transaction.
When you’d given Harry everything you found he seemed pleased.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” You said as you stood in front of him as he looked over the provenance and your findings.
“And what do you suggest? Just walk away? You do realize your salary is based on how much money I make, right?”
You nodded, “Yeah but if it’s illegal then I don’t want to be part of this. And Harry, this is illegal. Maybe your name isn’t on anything but this whole thing is–“
“Stop! I already lost out on the last big deal because of you and I’m not doing it anymore. You’re nothing but an employee to me, Y/n. That’s what you wanted so that’s what you’ll get.” He made it a point to remind you that his behavior was your fault.
You dropped your mouth open and felt your heart drop. He blamed you for the failed deal with Hallie? You didn’t know what to say. It made you feel awful. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes as you looked down and turned away from him so he couldn’t see what his words had done to you.
“Now let’s get ready. Meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.”
You stayed quiet during the whole thing, which seemed to be your new norm. You didn’t even look at Harry. You wouldn’t. You tried to get over the hurt feelings you had but that turned into anger. You were feeling mad. He was a true asshole and you were glad you had that clarity now. No more feeling bad for hurting his feelings. He was probably faking his feelings anyway.
After the deal was done you both went back to the hotel together but Harry left to get dinner. Alone. You ordered room service.
And you weren’t going to be drinking anymore. Not while you were anywhere near Harry. If there was even a chance you’d see him you’d not be drinking. That seemed to make you forgive him too quickly and you didn’t want to forget about how angry you were with him.
.           .           .
Nothing changed even when you got back to the U.S. Harry hardly spoke to you unless it had something to do with work. He didn’t even ask you to get his lunches from Carl anymore. And if you saw him in the kitchen late at night you’d just turn around and walk away. You didn’t have anything to say to him.
You sucked it all up, though. The money he was paying you was good. Very good. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. You could only be his punching bag for so long.
Every morning you would get your coffee and Harry’s for him as well before bringing it into his office to begin your day. That morning was like every other morning. Or at least you thought it was.
“Y/n can you close the door behind you? We need to talk about something private.”
You paused at the door and as you looked at Harry behind his big desk you took your foot to gently shut the door since your hands were full.
Placing Harry’s mug down on his desk you sat down in your usual spot and waited for him to speak.
He sat back in his chair and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, “I need you to sign this,” he slid a piece of paper across his desk toward you, “It’s a confidentiality agreement. I should have had you sign it when I first brought you on but… Well, now’s a good time I think.”
You picked up the paper and looked it over. An NDA. He wanted you to keep your mouth shut about the illegal things he was doing. And you were sure this was his plan all along. To hire you, give you a taste of that big fat salary and the kind of lifestyle he paid for you to enjoy, and then hit you with this.
“Why would I sign this? It only protects you?”
Harry reached for his coffee and took a sip before responding, “Because I’m telling you to sign it. Because I’m your boss. Because I need you to keep quiet about what you’ve seen if you’re going to work for me.”
You shook your head and sat the paper down on his desk before picking up your coffee mug and sipping it slowly then taking a deep breath for what you were about to tell this asshole, “I’m not signing it. You either trust me or you don’t. And if you don’t then I’ll leave right now and you can find someone else to be your bitch. I’m not someone you can just walk all over. I’m not taking the fall for you ever.”
“Is this really how it’s going to be? You’re willing to walk away from this job because of an NDA?”
You nodded, “Absolutely. It’s an insult to me and my character. I take this job seriously and you know that. This is you trying to exert your power over me and I’m not falling for it.”
Harry stood up from his desk and walked to his window with his back to you as you stayed seated comfortably and took another drink of your coffee.
On the outside, you appeared calm but on the inside, you were freaking out. This could be it. You would probably be losing your job now that you were taking a stand against Harry.
“I didn’t want it to be like this, Y/n. I thought maybe you’d understand the need for this agreement,” he turned toward you and walked to his desk, putting his palms down on the wood with his eyes on you, “Sign it. Please.”
You laughed and sat your mug down before standing up from your chair, “No.”
Harry rubbed his hands over his face, “God damnit!” He paced toward his bookshelf and back, “I need you to sign that. I’m gonna be honest here and say I don’t want to have to find anyone to replace you. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m not signing it, Harry. I already told you that if you feel like you can’t trust me at my word I’m out.”
Harry rounded the desk and stood in front of you, “I trust you but this,” he pointed at the document, “needs to get signed.”
Shaking your head you let out an incredulous laugh, “You know what? I don’t need any of this. You and your shady deals… the way you treat me–“
“How do I treat you? Hm?” He blocked you from stepping away from him.
You swallowed, “You’re not nice. Just because I felt uncomfortable after we had sex, you got your ego hurt or whatever and so you’re taking it out on me and… acting like I did something wrong.”
“I’m treating you the way you want to be treated, Y/n. This is exactly what you wanted. Is it not? Because you know what’s going to happen if we get too friendly again. So it’s this or the alternative.”
You tried to step to the side and move around him but he followed, staying directly in your path, “You’re not leaving this room until you sign that,” he pointed at his desk as his eyes bore into you.
“You can’t make me sign that, Harry. You have no power over this situation and you know it.”
“I don’t want to fire you, Y/n. Please just sign it.” He sounded defeated.
You pushed at his arm lightly to get him to move out of your way but he wrapped his hands under your forearms to hold you in place, “Y/n, look at me.”
You huffed and looked up at him, held in place by his hands and speaking through clenched teeth, “What?”
“I need this from you. Okay? It’s me. You can trust me. I know you know that. I might not be the nicest person to you but that’s just so we can maintain a professional relationship like you want. Please, Y/n.”
You couldn't understand why it was so important to him. If he trusted you he wouldn’t need it. But he did seem desperate.
“I can’t sign that. That’s incriminating to me if anything were to ever get out. My signature with a promise of silence? No. No way.”
Harry looked up at the ceiling and groaned before he looked back down at you his hands moving up to your upper arms, holding you still, “I’ll give you a raise. I’ll make it worth your while, Y/n. What do you want from me? What will it take to get you to sign it?”
You pulled your brows together and shook your head, “There’s nothing you can do to get me to sign that, Harry. This is a matter of trust. And it’s an insult. Another fucking insult from you.”
“No. It’s not an insult. It’s not personal. I trust you. I do. I swear.”
“Then you don’t need that do you?”
He was standing too close and his fingers were digging into your shirt over your skin and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You noticed the stubble along his jaw and the darker patch of growth above his lip. Normally he was quite clean-shaven. Sometimes he’d let it go for a few days and you had to admit, you kind of liked the overgrown, unkempt look.
“Y/n,” he closed his eyes and you saw him clench his jaw before he looked back down at you, stepping in closer, “I… fine. You don’t have to sign it today. I can’t lose you or have you walk out on me. If we can trust each other then we can make this work. Will you take some time to at least consider signing it?”
You sighed and looked down at his shirt for an escape from his gaze, “I don’t know. I don’t think I can ever sign that.”
He released one of your arms and put his hand on your chin, pushing your eyes back up to his, “Just don’t walk out, okay? I’m worried you’re gonna quit and I’m gonna be fucked without you.”
You hated that you loved his hands on you. All it took was his nearness and his soft eyes looking into yours. But you didn't know how to respond exactly. You were glad he wasn’t going to make you sign it, yet. But how long did you have before he was badgering you about it again? You were still going to say no.
“If you trust me, you don’t need my signature on that document. I’ll never put pen to that paper, Harry.”
“Y/n…” his voice came out in a whisper as he moved his other hand up to your face, his thumb at your temple, “I just want to know you’ll stay. Forget the document right now.”
Even though you knew what was happening you couldn’t figure out why you weren’t trying to stop it. Why you weren’t pushing him away and telling him to keep his hands to himself.
“I’m here right now aren’t I?” You whispered back to him and suddenly your hands were on his forearms as he cupped your face in his hands and everything around you turned into a blur when his mouth found yours.
Your heart pumped violently in your chest as you slid your hands up to the back of his head and you felt yourself being moved to his desk, your bottom hitting the wood as he leaned over you and moaned when he felt your tongue against his.
You felt a notebook slip off the desk and something metal tipped over, hitting the wood. Everything was happening so fast.
Harry placed one palm down on the desk as his other hand held the back of your head, his tongue and mouth were instantaneous, urgent. You felt like a wilted flower about to blossom.
And you felt his desperation because you were experiencing it just the same. You both breathed in through your noses for oxygen as your lips slid together wetly. He was overpowering your senses but it was welcome in that instant. His scent, his weight against you, the stubble on his face scraping your soft skin.
His nose turned into yours and pushed your head to the side as he lowered his mouth down to your jaw. Wet, hot presses of his lips and licks of his tongue had you letting out a shaky moan as you clung to him tightly.
When he grazed his lips over your neck and sucked gently on your skin before lapping over the tiny bruise you felt his mouth lower to your sweet spot. That one little sensitive area that had your entire body igniting with need, your figurative wilted petals being nourished and opening up, seeking the sun and water and breeze.
“Don’t leave me, please,” he whispered into your neck between kisses and you stuffed your fingers into his hair.
Everything was spinning and disintegrating around you as his lips were ravaging your neck and up to your jaw again.
“Tell me you're not gonna leave me,” he pressed his mouth against yours, “Please, Y/n.”
The kisses slowed down, your mouths moving gently together, tongues softly poking out and retreating until you parted from the kiss, pushing at his chest so you could sit up.
And when his lips weren’t urgent against yours you felt the heavy realization of what had just happened crumble around you. You didn’t understand why you didn’t stop it at once, why you let it happen in the first place. Your brain new better. Your heart could not be trusted.
Your chest heaved as you looked at Harry, your hands still on his chest, “We can’t do this…”
Harry put his hands over yours, unmoving from his spot so close to you, “We can. There’s no reason to pretend there isn’t something here, Y/n.”
You watched his chest rise and fall and his kiss-swollen lips mouth the word please. You couldn’t hear him say it but you knew he said it.
Shaking your head you pushed him away and stood up, dizzy and flustered as you ran to the door to leave. For breath. For distance.
“Y/n wait!” Harry ran after you. “Please!”
You went to your room and stuffed your bag with things you’d need (for what? You weren’t sure at that moment) as Harry watched you from your door, “Y/n. Where are you going?”
You cleared your throat and looked at him. Which you immediately regretted. He looked heartbroken, “I need some air. I have to get out of here. I’m sorry,” your words were rushed as your hands trembled with the items you collected to bring with you.
Harry watched in dismay as you picked up your keys and walked past him before he reached for your elbow to stop you, “That’s fine. If you need to think. Just… come back to me okay?”
You couldn’t look at him as he said it and you didn’t respond as you walked down the stairs and out the door.
It was all too much for you. Reconciling what you knew you should have done and what actually was happening didn’t synch up. It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t stay there with him any longer.
.           .           .
Harry thought you’d return that evening after cooling off. He had a whole speech prepared for you. An apology, a confession… The NDA was because he was worried you were going to quit and that you might wind up saying something about what you’d seen.
But that had been stupid of him to try and get you to sign it. And you were right. It was a power move in a way. He wanted you to know who was in charge and put you in your place because he was so frustrated at how you’d regretted something that he longed for. Something he wanted. He’d wanted it so badly and then he had it… until you took that away from him. So this was vindication on some level. Vindication for the blow to his ego. To his heart. But that wasn’t fair to you.
When you didn’t come home he decided to give you space. Surely you’d be at work in the morning at 8 am. You just needed time.
But at 8:15 the following morning when you still hadn’t even so much as called he realized you may have needed more than just air. And that was concerning.
He called you and left a voicemail. And waited. And waited. You didn’t call back.
So he texted you later in the day after working a little (but he could hardly think of anything but you) but the response was the same. Radio silence.
Now Harry didn’t like being in serious relationships and didn’t like people invading his space or having someone clinging to him or wanting his attention or relying on him to be their emotional support in any way but his heart squeezed painfully in his chest when he thought about you and how much he enjoyed your company. It hurt to know that you weren’t feeling the same kind of connection he was feeling. It stung that he’d given a little bit of himself to you, whether you knew it or not, but that you rejected it. You didn’t want it.
He'd give you another day before he came knocking on your door to find out what was going on. One more sleepless night to let you come to your senses.
.           .           .
“Look, I know you, Y/n. You do this. Anytime someone gets close to you, you brush it off like it didn’t exist. When your dad tried to come back into your life last year? How he wanted to see you and make up for all that lost time?”
You shook your head, “That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. You run away from your problems when you can’t contain things in one neat and tidy box. And your relationship with Harry was never neat and tidy. So you’re pretending he doesn’t exist.”
You bit your lip and looked away from Brandy. You knew she was right in some ways. You couldn’t handle messy. Anything to do with your emotions that you couldn’t settle up in your head seamlessly you wanted nothing to do with.
And you couldn’t settle your heart and your head when it came to Harry.
“At least call him and tell him you don’t want to work for him anymore. I mean look at these texts, Y/n…” She held your phone out to you but you turned away. You couldn’t look. She’d read them to you already. You knew what they said. “He’s worried about you. All he’s asking is for you two to talk.”
Shaking your head you stood up from her couch, “I’m not talking to him. I’ll let the agency do it. I’m emailing Monica to tell her I need to be matched for something else.”
Brandy watching you grab your laptop from your bag and shoot off the email.
“I think it’s a mistake to quit.”
“Why would this be a mistake? Even if he was the nicest guy on earth, we can’t work professionally together. He can’t be my boss when we’re unable to stop from kissing in the middle of a disagreement or having sex on a work trip.”
You were leaving out the fact that he’d been up to something shady. Illegal. You decided you’d wait to reveal that to Brandy once everything blew over. As much as you hated that Harry was conducting business the way he was, you didn’t want him to get into trouble. Not that you ever thought Brandy would go off to the police or anything. It just felt better to keep that knowledge to yourself for a while.
“Okay. Fair enough. But you two have something. Why would you throw that away?”
“Because we don’t actually have something, Brandy. His judgment is clouded because I work for him and he likes that power, and that’s what turns him on. I’m easy access and forbidden. He doesn’t actually like me like that. And I guarantee the moment he learns I’ve quit he’s going to forget all about me.”
Brandy laughed, “You have to stop thinking that men don’t like you. You have to stop feeling like no one would ever find you attractive or that when they’re flirting with you that they aren’t. You always push that notion away but it’s crazy! It’s okay to admit when a man likes you back, Y/n. It’s okay to let that happen.”
You weren’t buying it. Men, as a rule, didn’t find you pretty. Not really. Not pretty enough to fall for. You were the safe girl for men to be around when they liked someone else. There would never be any confusion about that kind of thing. Not from you, not from anyone looking in from the outside.
Except Brandy of course. Always the optimist. You wonder what she’d say if she knew the whole truth about him.
.           .           .
Harry had it all planned out. He was going to buy you flowers and bring those special decadent chocolates from the chocolatier he learned you loved and beg for you to forgive him, or whatever it was that needed to be done. He was going to tear up the NDA in front of you so you knew he trusted you without a doubt. Confess his feelings to you once and for all. No more playing coy with you. He was going to win you over. Whatever it took.
And it was crazy that he was suddenly feeling such despair at the thought of losing you. He knew he was developing feelings for you. It was easy to fall for you with your spunk and your take-no-shit attitude, your adorable smile, your sexy mouth… there were countless things about you that he couldn’t get enough of. Knowing you might not come back had him anxious and feeling sick over it.
But before he had even gotten through half his day at work an email popped up from Personal Premier Services with the subject line: Exit Survey – Y/n Y/l/n 2776
He blinked his eyes as his heart thudded when he opened the email.
Dear Mr. Styles,
We’re sorry the assistant we matched you with didn’t work out. We strive to make sure all of our clients are pleased with the performance of each of our employees and would appreciate your response in the link provided so we know how we can make better choices for you in the future.
We’d love to be able to continue working with you. Please let us know if we can be of further assistance in finding the right person to work with.
Harry couldn’t finish reading as his eyes burned and his mouth went dry.
You had quit. You’d walked out after he kissed you and you weren’t coming back. He hadn’t expected you to quit. He should have seen it coming based on your lack of response to him but he didn’t. He was blindsided. Somehow he’d clung to the tiny bit of hope that you felt the same for him too.
Even though he was in the middle of searching for a piece of art his client wanted he stood from his chair and picked up his car keys, hurrying out of his home to make his way to you. There was no time to stop to pick up flowers or chocolates. No time to wait until the end of the workday after he’d made arrangements with a client. No time to pretend things would be okay anymore.
It took him over an hour to get to your apartment, traffic was shit. No surprise. He pulled up his contacts to find your apartment number once he arrived, and got out of his car to find which door was yours.
When he did find it and knocked with no answer he tried peeking into the one window but he could barely make out anything. You had drapes hung over the window and it appeared all the lights were off.
So he waited. He sat by your door and waited for you until you came back. Nothing else was more important to him at that moment. Even if he waited all night. To Harry, this was code red. His last shot with you.
.           .           .
You were feeling clear-headed. It was the right choice. It had to be because you couldn’t work for a man like Harry. A man who did illegal things and wanted you to sign an NDA so you wouldn’t talk. A man who you were far too attracted to for it to make any sense. It would just be a series of fights and cold shoulders and sex and longing…
Definitely, it was the right choice to quit. It had to be.
Unfortunately for you, when you got to your door Harry was there, scrambling to push himself up from where he’d been sitting, “Y/n…”
“What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk. I want to make things right with you.”
You shook your head and gripped the shoulder strap of your bag, “There’s nothing to make right. We aren’t good working partners. I should have never agreed to work with you.”
Harry stepped forward and took your hand, “Y/n. We… this isn’t even about work anymore okay? I don’t care about that. Quit if you want. If that’s what you need.”
You pulled your hand away from him, “What do you mean this isn’t about work?”
He sighed and kept his eyes on you, “Because… I like you. I feel like we’re–“
“No. Stop. Don’t do that. You’re confused because when I worked for you that was fun and risky for us to do. But I’ll bet that when the disappointment of me quitting wears off you’ll realize you don’t actually like me like you think you do.”
Harry furrowed his brow as you stepped past him to unlock her door, “What? What are you talking about? I’m serious, Y/n.”
You rolled your eyes, “I don’t think you actually are, Harry,” you pushed your door open.
He was beginning to panic. He hadn’t expected you to reject him telling you that he liked you.
“Wait. Please. Look, okay,” he put his hands up in surrender. “Can I come in? We can just calmly discuss this. Person to person. Also, I really have to take a piss. I’ve been out here for almost four hours waiting for you and I should have thought about that before I left my house but I was in such a rush to get here–“
“Fine. Come in.” You let him through your door and closed it. “Bathroom’s just there in that hall. Do want something to drink?”
Harry looked at you with those soft eyes that made you falter for a second, “Some water would be great. Thank you, Y/n.”
You couldn’t believe that you’d let him in. That you were pouring water for him while he used your toilet. In your apartment. You shook your head thinking about how ridiculous it was that he was sitting outside of your door waiting for you.
When he came out you had his glass of water on a coaster on your coffee table in front of the couch. You took the chair at the side. There was no way you were going to sit next to him. Things didn’t seem to always go as planned when he got too close and you couldn’t have that happen.
“Sit,” you gestured at the couch.
Harry sat down and picked up the glass of water, taking a few big gulps, nearly finishing the entire thing.
You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for him to talk. You had nothing to say in that moment. You hoped it would be quick and he’d be out soon. You didn’t want to look at his handsome sad face for too long or you were worried you’d fold once again. Seemed it didn’t matter if alcohol was involved or not after all.
“Y/n you don’t have to work for me. I know maybe it’s not the best environment when we’re both attracted to one another the way we are. That’s okay. But… I don’t want to stop seeing you.”
“You’re not attracted to me in the way you think you are.”
Harry let out a laugh of confusion, “I can tell you with 100% certainty that I am extremely attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re sexy. You’re intelligent and funny. I like you, Y/n.”
You shook your head, “Like I said. Wait until the disappointment of me quitting clears. You’re just not getting your way right now and that’s a challenge for you and you’re mistaking those feelings for excitement or attraction.”
The look on Harry’s face was sheer confusion, “What you’re saying is absurd. I came here to confess my feelings for you, Y/n. I… I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone. This is not some strange psychological thing where I’m confusing a challenge for attraction.”
“And you’re into illegal things so I just… I can’t be around that. It’s not worth it to me. You wanted me to sign an NDA. Put my name on a document that proves guilt and sign off on it? And now you’re telling me this? I call bullshit.”
“I don’t want you to sign the fucking NDA. That was stupid. It was in bad taste. It was a way for me to make sure you didn’t quit. I was desperate for keeping hold of something I felt slipping away.”
You laughed loudly, “A lot of good that did.
“I know. I’m so sorry. Y/n please… I’m dead serious here. Do you not like me? Are you not feeling this?” He gestured between himself and you.
You forced yourself to make eye contact with him and it nearly had your heart torn in shreds. You didn’t like the way your mind said one thing and your heart screamed at you for another. But even if you did like him and he liked you, then what? He was doing things that were disreputable. Illegal. That made him a person you didn’t want to be around. You had morals and you had your dignity to look out for.
“Harry it doesn’t matter what I feel or what you feel. I can’t be with you as an employee or a lover, or whatever it is you think you’re looking for. You’re involved in illicit sales of stolen artifacts and artwork. It’s illegal and I know that most of the money you’ve made has been doing dirty deals. How can I ever get over that?”
He looked down at the floor in thought. You were right. He understood your position but he couldn’t accept it. It was too much for him to wrap his head around that you would deny your feelings for him just for something that he thought wasn’t all that bad in the grand scheme of things.
“Y/n, I think it does matter what you feel and what I feel. I think that matters more than anything else actually,” he got up from his spot and you watched him with caution as he stood in front of you and got onto his knees, taking your hands in his, “Y/n, I can’t just walk out of here like this. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. You feel this too, don’t you? Tell me the truth.”
The fucked up part about looking into his eyes was that you softened for him every single time you did it. You tried to be strong and fierce. To be a woman with unshakable values and a strong sense of self but Harry had you feeling wobbly and unsure, “I do, but… it’s not fair.” You willed the tears to stop from filling your eyes.
“It’s not fair to us to ignore this. This feeling. This connection, Y/n.”
“Harry, what’s not fair to me is the way you treated me that first night. What’s not fair is that you hired me and didn’t disclose to me what you really do to make your money. It’s not fair to me that you’re here right now saying all this to me when it’s impossible! How can I say that I respect myself if I allow this to go any further with you?”
Your tears had a mind of their own as they pushed their way out of your sockets and poured down your face. You closed your eyes and then felt Harry’s thumb at your cheek, wiping your tears.
“Y/n, what do you want? What do you want me to do? Hm? How can I make you forgive me for that night? That was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. And everything else? What can I do?”
You shook your head but you didn’t dare open your eyes to look at him, “Harry you can’t do anything. The damage is done.”
“Y/n I can make it right. Please tell me what to do.”
“You can leave. That’s what you should do.” Finally, you peeled your eyes open and looked at him directly. You wanted him to know you meant business.
“Can’t we just–“
You pointed at the door, “Leave. Now. Leave my apartment, Harry. Go.”
Harry stood up slowly and swallowed thickly as he scratched the back of his neck and turned toward your door.
You pushed yourself from the seat ready to lock the door behind him but he turned back to look at you, “Please don’t do this, Y/n.”
You felt a pit in your stomach and a lump in your throat as you pointed at the door, “Go. Please, Harry. Just go.”
When your door was closed and your deadbolt latched you broke down into a sobbing mess on your couch where he’d sat. Only in private would you let yourself feel all those things your heart had pleaded for you to feel. You didn’t want anyone to see this. To know how devastated you were. It was the right choice but the ache in your chest felt like hopelessness.
To have found someone like Harry, the glimpses of his soul and his kindness and his cheekiness, the way he treated you when things were good…
But you had to collect yourself and wipe your tears and move on.
It was time to figure out your next move. Your lease was coming up and you had enough money to find somewhere else to go now. You felt like a new start in a new apartment, maybe in a different city would be good for you. It would make it harder for Harry to ever just traipse up to your apartment again and try to sweep you off your feet.
The first thing you did was block his number and his email and then you opened your laptop to begin the search for a new place to live. A new beginning.
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swampstew · 1 year
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𝓑𝓲𝓰 𝓚𝓲𝓭 & 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓛𝓾𝓯𝓯𝔂'𝓼 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓐𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮
Special thank you for bringing my idea to life: Dis.Is.Lele, the artist and creator of the "7-year old Luffy AU" mini comic series - you can find more of Little Luffy's other hijinks on their Twitter page, all ridiculously adorable. Cameo appearance of my self insert in the last panel💜
Please do not repost this commissioned work without the proper credit due to the artist or me, we are way too nice to be disrespected like that.
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sarascamander · 2 months
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What I want in season 4:
1) I don't think we'll get the full story of how Five founded the Commission but I at least want Five to create his own time traveling briefcase with his power so it foreshadows that Five founded the Commission and have the potential ability to do so. Maybe he used it to return to the original timeline or whatnot (this assuming if they got their power back)
2) Five and Allison interaction!!! I'm not lying when I say that Five and Allison have the least interaction in the show and they deserve a moment! And not with Nice Allison either, but emo heartbroken Allison! I want to see them argue and have one to one conversation (or combat, who knows)
3) Viktor playing the violin. Come on, it's the last season, he deserves to play it for the last time (w/o destroying the world, ofc)
4) Diego and Lila's kid to be named "Grace" because Diego loves his mom so much and Grace deserves a tribute honestly.
5) I don't actually mind if Luther didn't find Sloane. I mean, they're cute but they know each other for literal days. I just wish Luther would grow on his own and while searching for Sloane, he realized that maybe they rushed things and while they do love and care for each other, they still take their time to rebuild their relationship and get to know each other all over again.
6) Ben and Diego to form a duo because they hate each other's gut so much it's hilarious. (I honestly don't know what my expectation is for Ben but I wish he opened up a bit to the Brellies)
7) Abigail's character to be evil. Idk why, I just want her to be worse than Reggie lmao or at least, his match.
8) like Ben, idk what to expect from Klaus and I really couldn't predict what he'll do in s4. He's always a wild card.
9) I read some fanfics that Five, Lila and Diego live together and it's canon to me now. Nothing can change this fact.
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oillipheist9000 · 4 months
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Heyy
So, this is mostly just a fun timeline I made with little research backing it, but I thought it might be cool to share?
It goes through what historical events happened throughout Alastor’s life that might have impacted him and sets the stage for what his life might have looked like. It does hinge quite a bit on US history, so I will also touch on parts of that for our friends who aren’t from the US and don’t know : D
Now keep in mind that this is more of just a list of fun facts that i’ve shoved into a readable outline, than anything put together lol.
Alastor is said to be in his 30’s or 40’s when he died in 1933, this puts his year of birth at a rough range of 1890-1900. For the purpose of this timeline, I will be assuming that Alastor was born in the year 1902 because I want to. This would make him 31 at the time of his death.
In 1892, the supreme court ruled on Plessy vs Ferguson, which was what established the idea of ‘Separate but Equal’ <- (i'm assuming people know what that is and stuff, if you don’t know, feel free to ask, I can give more of a history lesson)
From 1900-1909, education past the 5th grade did not EXIST in New Orleans for black children. This is a large part of why I believe a birth year of at least 1900 would be more accurate for Alastor, as he would have been 7-9 (2nd-4th) when middle school (6th-8th) became available to him.
In 1917, McDonogh No. 35 High School became the first public high school for black teens. Alastor would have been 15 in my timeline. This means that he would have likely been out of school for a year under the assumption that he wouldn’t be able to go anymore. (There were a couple private schools, but those were Expensive!!)
1920: KKK reemerged in Louisiana <- (again, assuming people know the history on this, if you would like a quick history lesson, lmk!!)
In 1921, Alastor graduated! Yay!! He is now 19!
Now, a fun fact! Throughout all of this, radio has not existed as a Thing in New Orleans. Alastor would not have grown up listening to the radio. It would have been new tech for him!!
In 1922, the first radio station came to New Orleans!!! It’s called WWL and it runs … drumroll please … ADS!!! In an attempt to raise funds for Loyola University! Exciting, right? : D
By 1927, the Federal Radio Commission was established in an effort to help organize airwaves, which had become messy and disorganized from the abundance of unlicensed, random people broadcasting.
1933: Alastor dies D:
Also 1933, oddly enough, A newspaper somehow managed to get radio stations in New Orleans legally banned from airing news from the last 24 hours?????
An interesting note. This ban went through in the summer. Deer season is in the winter (Dec-Jan), so it was either banned 6 months before or 6 months after Alastor’s death
1934: FRC is replaced by the Federal Communications Commission
This is pretty much all I have. I also am including some of the links to sources that I thought were interesting. Super open to discussions and questions lol. Hope someone enjoyed reading all this lmao
And also @nunalastor cause you seemed interested and I finally got everything together lol
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gemkimart · 5 months
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