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#We've Got Mail! (Asks)
darkwood-sleddog · 2 months
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working with the public or as i like to call it "baby boomer babysitter club"
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jisungshotfirst · 11 months
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Levanter anon: sounds like SM Entertainment is having a chaotic time once again.
On a more lighthearted note, if you look at the graph of SM stock prices going down, it looks like a cat now. 'Tis the EXO-dus cat!
But jokes aside: what will happen to EXO now? How many group members would be left in the company (assuming the don't also leave after the first group of members)? Where will the leaving members go?
Also, will this affect other SM groups? I am not the most familiar with them, but I hear SM groups are very interconnected, with NCT and Superm and everything. So will other groups have members leaving?
Hello!! they sure are hahahhaha
omg we love<3 jfjfdj exo's legacy :')
So there currently Chanyeol, Sehun, Kai, Kyungsoo, Suho and Lay are still contracted with SM. Chen, Baekhyun, and Minseok are still in exo of the moment - they've left the company not the group and so unless there's official word after all the legal stuff that they've left the group - they are still in the group! the contracts will be them individually contracted as SM artists, not as members of EXO so they don't lose that when the contracts gone until SM declare it. Sehun... is unpredicatable so i can't say anything for sure 😭 but he is basically sitting back atm with popcorn watching it go down so i imagine that whatever the outcome he will step up and try something himself hahah the others i truly don't know! Kai fucked off to the military right as the drama's happening so we won't get his news for a while 😭 the contracts are kinda frozen/extended over military enlistment periods i've noticed so he won't be doing anything until it's over. The leaving members are very likely going to go get signed to other labels/ set up their own ! i can imagine they have a plan, and considering they're suing together at once i can imagine they have a plan together! it would be great for us fans to have them sign to the same company but you gotta remember this is their first free decision about their career they've prob ever gotten so they should go with what they want individually and find companies that will suit them and work well with them<3
oki so I think there's a lot that could happen if u compare it to other groups! they could definitely do a got7 where they are in different companies focusing on solo stuff but manage to do a full-member comeback by organising it themselves between all their companies (if only once or twice </3). Or you could look at snsd. snsd came back through SM but 3 (?) of the members aren't under SM anymore - it was just something arranged between all companies involved and i can imagine that the non-SM girls got well compensated 😭 but yeah - something like that could happen if there's some relationship between the members and SM... which doesn't seem particularly likely considering the lawsuits but anyways it's a possibility hahaha!
about other SM groups! it will be affecting poor taeyong trying to promote his solo atm thru all this drama 😭 and as you said about the stock prices - that does inhibit the other groups. However, if they win the lawsuit, one can only hope that would encourage better artist treatment and fairer payout around the whole company!! and if SM don't do it themselves, the other artists would have tonnes of info on how to beat SM in a lawsuit 😭 so we can hope they use it well<3 but yeah - the icky thing about companies is that although they are all artists with similar contracts, the treatment and payout could be extremely different between all the groups :(( and within the same group (read: luhan and tao lol). and good old misogyny when it comes to rv<3 so each SM artist could have a different experience and some could have it much worse than others.
okay so i just read some articles and it's so funny djfgjjdfgj what i'm understanding is.. cbx were like 'yo can u provide us with the info on how we've been paid for 12-13 years' and sm are like 'no. i don't want to.' and sm are CONVINCED that some other evil company leaders have been talking to exo and getting them to sign with them and illegally go against their SM contracts. which very much could be true but it's not illegal to have discussions with other employers jgjdfg and SM are still like 'we have your best interests at heart, not those evil outsiders!'. ... they r so funny fkgkd. also their contracts were literally 12-13 years long... not the usual 7 recommended by the government.... and the contracts they r terminating were written in nov/dec 2022 and were extending them another 5/6 years...and SM's current defence is "no ur lawyer doesn't know the law properly we aren't in the wrong".. so .... unless some miracle is pulled I don't see SM coming out of this well since they're not rly cooperating at all.
but yeah.. i don't see a swarm of artists leaving SM happening, mostly because a lot of them won't have the luxury as EXO have to do that. And especially if they're also stuck in 13 year contracts... which is ridiculous. so yeah :(( but we can hope they get better treament!! and soz to any superm fans if there are any of you 😭 superm is a done thing i'm afraid</3 lucas flopped, baekhyun's suing and then it'd just be taemin in an Nct unit KJFGKFJGK. so yeah no more superm. but nct will prob truck on - they are SM's priority there's no denying it so they'll prob be fine. tho they are tragically suffering with the loss of sungtaro so like... </3 rip to them but infinite Nct flopped to me the second sungtaro left, like no one else matters</3
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healingheartdogs · 2 years
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Going to have a fucking panic attack because for two years I've been isolating, for two years I've avoided leaving the house, for two years I've had no social life or any real contact with other people, for two years I did everything right and got vaxxed and always wore a mask, for two years I have been living extremely cautiously terrified of getting a virus that has about a 50/50 chance of making me even more permanently disabled and unable to survive in this society than I already am if it doesn't kill me outright and I just fucking tested positive for covid
Nothing fucking matters and life is a joke
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vanmccannonlyfans · 2 years
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What do you think Van's skincare routine is like?
probably just saliva and mcdonald's bathroom dispenser hand soap 😔
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Happy New Year
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"sorry that we answered this so late, things have been kinda hetic around here, but slowly turning to normal... sky's still fucked up along with the whole area." "uncle alpha! language!" "yeah yeah i know, sorry kiddo."
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When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy~! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifications anonymously. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity~!
Thank you Nonny friend!
5 things that make me happy: -my puppies -quality time with my hubby -dumb cast interviews of actors/characters I like -reading! (books/fanfics) -asks/comments/reblogs
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fruitmans · 10 months
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narcissus and tulip? 💐
Narcissus - whats your best physical feature?
- i have no idea.. maybe my smile?🫢
Tulip - lucky number?
- idk if i have a lucky number but i like 24 😇
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jedi-starbird · 2 months
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Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic
They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.
It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.
Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.
I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.
Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.
When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!
Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.
Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.
A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.
The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.
"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.
When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.
What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.
OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.
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ioniiaa · 2 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)
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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 14 (Final)
Part 14:
A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.
To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.
While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.
It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.
The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.
As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.
For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.
Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.
Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!
(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)
Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."
"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.
"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.
"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"
"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.
"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"
After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.
With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).
Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.
You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.
Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.
Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.
Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.
Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.
Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.
Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?
"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.
He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"
You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"
You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"
"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.
"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.
Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.
You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"
"I've been ready for decades."
Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!
The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.
Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."
You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!
"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!
Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.
The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"
"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.
Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.
"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.
You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.
"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."
You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.
"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."
Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!
"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.
"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."
As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.
Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.
Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.
It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.
Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.
"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."
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I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)
People seem to forget you're dating Oscar
Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: jealous themes
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.
"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.
"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.
"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.
"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.
"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.
As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.
"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.
"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.
"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.
Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.
"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.
"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.
"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.
You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.
When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.
"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.
Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.
"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.
"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.
"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.
"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".
Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.
"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.
"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.
"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".
"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.
"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.
"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.
.
"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".
"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.
"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".
Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.
Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.
By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.
You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.
Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match
I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together
She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother
Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend
I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver
Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship
She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her
She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?
These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that
The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.
The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.
"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.
"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.
"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.
"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.
"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.
"Yes!", you answered loudly.
"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.
"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".
"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".
Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.
"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.
"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.
"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.
"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.
"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.
"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.
"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.
"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".
Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".
The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.
"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.
"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.
"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.
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stevieschrodinger · 1 month
Text
TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.
Link to part Two
Steve leans against Carol's desk, "here are your messages, I fobbed off the Times interview - they're going to email you their questions instead." He's listening to Carol, but he's watching, frowning.
There's a man in his office.
"Lunch call with the Singapore office is on. Your suite for the gala is back from the dry cleaners, it's in your bathroom."
"Right, the gala," Steve answers absently. It's a corner office, lots of glass, so it's impossible to miss the man in his office. The man who is calmly, right now, looking at the framed photo Steve has of his parents. It's basically a prop, Steve never got on with them, but that is not the point. Some random guy is touching Steve's shit.
"And my nine thirty?"
"Had to move it, don't worry, they were fine about it."
"Right," Carol's leaning over the desk now, watching the man right along with Steve, "I assume that's why you had to cancel my nine thirty."
"Uh hu," she's tapping her nails on the top of the desk, and she's so fucking infuriating, if she wasn't so fucking good at her job Steve would have booted her years ago.
"You're going to make me ask aren't you??
Carol gives him a massive shit eating grin, "ask what, sir?"
"Jesus fucking christ," Steve sighs, "who is that in my office."
"Not sure," Carol shrugs, grinning because she's pleased she's being such a dick, "security brought him up," she leans over the desk, whispering like she's imparting a secret, "pretty sure they said something that sounded like FBI."
And then she sits down, tapping at her computer and painting her nails or doing whatever it is she does all day. Harassing mail boys, probably. God she's like a fucking shark, but that what Steve gets, he wanted a competent secretary, what he got was a fucking guard dog.
Steve's not complaining. He'd been weary of hiring a female Alpha and then shoving her behind a desk, but it turns out Carol is terrifyingly efficient and fucking fearless, so it's kind of a win win.
Steve stares at the man in his office for a second longer, trying to figure out what the fuck he's done. he wonders if he's somehow accidentally committed major tax fraud, or something. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but the panic spiral is sitting there, looking inviting, anyway.
Steve goes into his office, and the man turns. He's tall, well built, kind of portly with age, maybe, but Steve still wouldn't fuck with the guy. He's not wearing blockers of any sort, so Steve's office now smells of strange, uninvited, Alpha. Great.
"Jim Hopper," he says, extending his hand, "FBI."
"Steve Harrington," Steve replies, even though he's certain it's pointless, this guy knows exactly who he is.
The guy is already producing paperwork as Steve takes his seat on the other side of his desk, "standard non disclosure, Mr. Harrington."
Steve gives it a once over, he's signed enough of these, and been involved with the legal team enough, that he feels confident enough. He signs it, knowing he won't get any answers until he does.
"I'll get right to it, time is tight. I've been working to dismantle an Omega trade ring for nearly eighteen months now. We're almost ready to move, teams are in place, inks drying on the warrants, cells are all picked out."
Steve nods, okay. He knew Omega trade was a thing, a barbaric, highly illegal thing. Human trafficking of the worst form, he gestures for Hopper to continue.
"If we go in now, we will likely get a few of the higher ups, we'll rescue approximately two dozen Omega, it'll be a success." Steve goes to speak, wondering what the fuck this has to do with him, Hopper waves him down, "we've been here before; I've made this mistake once before. If we don't get the people at the top, this thing will grow back in a years time. I want them all."
Steve gets that. His head is spinning a little. He knows things like this go on, you see about it on the news, but it does sound a bit...like a spy movie.
Hopper puts a photograph on Steve's desk, "you know this man?"
And Steve does. They're not what Steve would call friends; more of a good tempered rivalry. And yeah, Steve had Daddy's money, but Tommy had his Daddy's company. They came up at the same time, went after the same deals. Move in the same circles, Steve's known him for years. Steve's disliked him for years, "you're not suggesting Tommy Hagan is...the head of some sort of, human slavery outfit?" Knowing how ruthless Tommy can be, how questionable his methods are...Steve's still struggling to see him as...this.
"I'm not suggesting it. I'm telling you as fact. You've known him a long time, and we have to move fast. The charity gala tonight, you'll both be there."
"Right, sure, but I don't exactly see what I can do about this."
"Hagan moves the...high end product. Very exclusive, very expensive. They keep them at a ranch, just out of state," and that's kind of uncomfortable, because Steve's been to the ranch for a business lunch, so he knows exactly the place Hopper is talking about. And, jesus, Steve had thought at the time Tommy had a lot of Omega staff. A lot of really well behaved Omega staff - at the time, Steve thought Tommy was just being his usual dick self. Just showing off wealth. Fuck, if some of those Omega were actually, like, prisoners- "drop a hint to Hagan, tonight. Tell him you're getting itchy, fancy yourself an Omega. A traditional one, timid. Say whatever you need to say, get yourself an invite out there."
Steve takes a deep breath, nodding. He can do that. He can play that; he might have to wear blockers, his opinion of Tommy is in the gutter on a good day, never-mind this.
"That's all you need?"
Hopper shifts forward in his chair, "look, you're ideal. On the periphery, you've known each other a long time, but not well. He knows exactly the kind of clout you have, your bank balance, you're the perfect person to do this."
It's not hard to find information on Steve Harrington, he's thirty first on the Forbes 100 list, but clearly Hopper, at the very least, has taken notice.
"How do you know I'm not already involved?"
Hopper snorts, "kid. We know. Also, you just asked me that question, and your balls ain't that brassy."
Steve can't deny it, he shrugs, "so, what else?"
"Get an invite. Go there wearing a wire. Meet Tommy, pick an Omega. You'll be trusted; we will fit a listening device. Hagan's wriggled out of this sort of thing before; evidence like that, there'll be no court in the country that won't convict him."
Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.
That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.
Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.
Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.
But here he is, walking up the front steps to the ranch house, Tommy Hagan grinning big, "hope you brought the black card," Tommy jokes as they bro hug.
Because that's not creepy.
Tommy had given Steve a smirk at the Gala last night, was confident he had exactly what Steve was looking for. Knew, for the right price, exactly what would scratch Steve's itch. Not like he was talking about real fucking human beings or anything.
Steve's real glad he went thick on the blockers; he's certain Tommy would be choking on the scent of his disgust by now.
They bring them in during lunch. Steve sitting, eating fucking cornbread and home made slaw and he just can't. He nibbles, feeling sick with nerves. Tommy doesn't even seem to notice. Steve can't help but stare at him, someone he's known most of his life and now...he's been revealed as something vile and subhuman. Steve has to work hard to keep the disgust off his face.
Something that gets even more difficult when the Omega are brought it and lined up, all wearing the same diaphanous nightdresses regardless of gender. Every single one of them could be a contender for the most beautiful thing Steve's ever seen. Every single one of them could be a model, or something.
They're lined up in height order; the last one in, the tallest, a male Omega. He's limping.
He's leaving bloody footprints on the fancy parquet flooring.
Tommy must catch Steve's face, "the unruly ones need to be disciplined, and that one is more...difficult than most. Refuses to learn. And we don't want to damage the product anywhere that'll be visible, obviously."
Steve has to breathe through his nose so he doesn't throw up. All the Omega are wearing blockers; probably because the scent of Omega distress would be so off putting.
Tommy waves a hand, "get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug," and the Omega winces, as he turns. he's got lots of shiny dark curls. Everything about all the Omega is pristine, perfectly maintained hair, nails, flawless skin. The smear of blood on his ankle is even more stark for it, and Steve can't help but stare as the Omega gamely takes what looks like a very painful, shuffling step away again.
"Him," Steve says before he can stop himself, "I want him."
The Omega turns back, looking at Steve with huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's hopeful and fearful all at once, and it tears Steve up inside. He wants to buy all of them, get all of them out of here, but knows he can't. If he does anything to raise suspicion he could fuck the whole thing.
At least he has Hopper's word that the rest of them will be out of here by the end of today.
Tommy scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."
Steve wants to swear at Tommy because they're all fucking pretty, ridiculously so, "no, he'll do."
"Oh," Tommy laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Steve is dragged into a very detailed conversation about how to move funds - from where and to where, which Steve does. It's an amount of money that under any other circumstances would make Steve's eyes water - but in the face of a human being in pain, Steve doesn't even blink.
It doesn't feel like Steve takes a breath until he's on the interstate, the Omega curled up on the seat next to him. No possessions, no clothes, no bag.
Nothing.
And that had gutted Steve as much as anything else.
"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"
"Eddie," the Omega answers quietly.
"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"
Eddie's just blinking at him.
"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."
"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know."
"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"
Eddie turns and sees the McDonald's, "oh fuck me yes," he breathes with such vehemence that Steve laughs, "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."
That kills Steve's laughter stone dead.
Hopper rubs at his forehead, "you were not supposed to buy a human being."
"I know but-" Steve turns, Eddie standing behind him, which on it's own makes Steve wince. Eddie's barefoot on the asphalt, half hidden behind Steve, still wearing nothing but that scrap of white fabric. It's now a little smeared with the fry grease Eddie had shamelessly wiped off his fingers. Steve hands over his phone and the suite jacket.
Hopper waves him off, "you did good."
Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"
"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."
Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out."
"He can stay with me." Steve's volunteering before he can really think it though, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off. He did just rescue this Omega after all, he's not just going to abandon him to be alone somewhere. Somewhere that might not even be safe for a lone Omega.
Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, "not like I've had any better offers lately."
Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."
And then Hopper just...drives away. It's maybe an hour and a half drive back from here, since Steve had to go out of his way for this clandestine meeting in an abandoned car lot.
"So is there anything you...want? Need?"
Eddie seems to think about it for a second, plucking at his nightshirt, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."
Steve starts laughing first, then Eddie joins in.
At Eddie's request they get milkshakes on the way home.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Ausenal II
Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader
Summary: You travel for an away game
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It was a long drive up to Liverpool.
Like four plus hours kind of long.
Which meant you had plenty of time to do your homework.
Steph wandered around the house, picking up her bags and sorting through the last of the mail before turning to you.
"Have you packed your laptop?"
You nodded.
"And your calculator?"
You nodded.
"And your boots and your socks?"
You didn't stop nodding.
"Okay. Let's get this show on the road."
Steph drove you both to the training grounds. She looked at you in the backseat and adjusted her rear view mirror. "Did you pick up your lunch?"
You held up the little brown paper bag she'd packed for you.
Steph nodded. "Good. Right, onto the bus with you. I'm just going to pop in and grab some water from reception."
You nodded.
Away games like this were always the same. Steph let you have a little lie in as she double then triple checked your bag and made you your lunch. Then, she would wake you up where you would beg to just have something small for breakfast like a protein bar but she would make you eat a full meal. Next Steph would drive you to the bus where she would make you get on while she slipped inside to get you some extra water in case you got car sick.
Now came the next part of your routine.
"There she is!" Katie crowed from her spot next to Caitlin. "We've been saving you a seat."
She nodded to the seat opposite her and you sat.
This was normal as well. Leah and Alessia were set up at the table across the aisle, playing cards as Kyra kneeled on her seat so she could annoy Lotte and the new American signing, Emily.
No one would sit on your other side but Steph would definitely take up the seat in facing Kyra to make sure she behaved.
"What have you got today?" Katie asked as you got out your schoolwork.
You made a face. "Biology and Chemistry."
"Did you bring the funny calculator?" Caitlin asked, making grabby hands for it.
"I need it," You said.
"I only want it for a bit," Caitlin said," I'm going to send Macca and Lanni a picture of me writing boobs."
"You're so childish," Steph said in greeting as she arrived on the bus," Leave her alone. She has deadlines." She passed you over two bottles of water and looked at you sternly. "Drink one of them now."
"She means," Katie cut in," Make sure you finish it in the first half of the journey so when we get to the services, you can have a toilet break there."
That was part of the normal routine too and you just nodded.
You got to work quickly even as the bus turned into carnage the moment you set off.
At some point, Caitlin had grabbed your calculator and was amusing herself using the graph function after sending the boob picture to Macca and Lanni.
Kyra was still annoying Lotte and Emily even after Steph made her sit down and turn around.
Leah and Lessi's card game got progressively more aggressive as the time lagged on and you found yourself abandoning your schoolwork to watch.
"Cheater!"
"You can't cheat at Uno, Leah! You're being a bad loser!"
"I haven't lost yet and there's no way you had that many plus fours! You're such a cheater!"
"Just because you have bad luck doesn't mean that I do! Now pick up your cards or resign!"
"Hey."
You snapped out of your watching to look across from you. Katie raised a singular brow and looked down at your laptop.
"Didn't Steph say you had deadlines? Come on, get it done so you can relax on your way back."
You huffed and got back to work.
"And start drinking your water too! It helps with brain power!"
You diligently typed away, absentmindedly snacking on whatever Katie pushed your way and having to fight back you calculator from Caitlin.
When it came to the twenty minute break at the services, you were more than happy to escape into the fresh air.
"Hand," Leah said as she caught up with you, holding her own hand out expectantly.
"Leah," You began to whine but a firm look from her had you slipping your palm into hers.
Kyra snickered behind you and you felt your face go bright red. "Don't wander off," Kyra teased as she moved past," Wouldn't want to get lost, would you?"
"Kyra!" Steph snapped as she approached," No teasing! It's mean!"
You and Leah didn't stick around to hear anymore of the lecture because you were dragged to the toilet and then to the little store to pick up a new book.
You were distracted though and kept peering around Leah to look at the snacks.
"No," She said," That's not good for you. Come on, you're choosing a new book."
You picked up the next book in the series you were reading but made sure to take the long way back around to the checkout, purposely walking Leah through the snacks.
"No," She said again, waving a teasing finger in your face.
"Please?" You begged," I finished my schoolwork. And I ate the lunch Steph packed for me!"
Leah looked at you through narrowed eyes, studying you before sighing. "One snack. And not too big either. I mean it, this stuff isn't good for you."
You grinned and went to grab your favourite chocolate bar, dragging Leah with you when it was clear that she wasn't going to let go of your hand.
"Go on," She said, guiding you up onto the team bus again," You promise that you finished your work?"
You nodded.
"Okay. Go and sit with Lessi. Kyra can sit in your old seat."
Alessia was already waiting for you. At some point while you were away, she'd gotten out a blanket.
"Come on," She said softly, beckoning you closer," You look like you need a nap. You had to wake up early."
"I'm not a baby," You complained even though you were already taking your shoes off so you could curl up properly on the seat.
"Teenagers can nap too." Alessia wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you a bit closer.
"I'm not tired," You said," I've got a new book."
"The book can wait. We need you fighting fit for the match later. Kyra's already asleep."
You turned your head to spot Kyra face down on the table, eyes shut and drooling. You huffed and looked back at Alessia.
She was giving you one of those looks that you were more accustomed to seeing from Steph or Kim so you blew out all your air in a big sigh and rested your head on her shoulder.
"Good," Lessi said," I'll wake you up when we get there."
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keerysfreckles · 6 months
Text
safe haven - mike schmidt
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pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
summary: mike schmidt's next door neighbor seems on edge when she knocks on his front door. the reason being remains unknown, until mike orders a pizza and lets the scared girl stay the night.
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, mentions of an abusive and toxic relationship, slight cursing
michael schmidt wasn't used to any of his neighbors knocking on his door. the only interactions being simple waves while getting the mail, or nods of their heads when they drive by.
mike instantly recognized his next door neighbor as he opens the front door. he's seen her plenty of times before, but the two haven't spoken to each other.
he notices her shaken up appearance, as her loose t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, and the grey sweatpants on her hips are barely tied. her hair is down, but the baby hairs by her forehead are erratically skewed.
"hello?"
mike's simple gretting takes the girl out of her trance. she kept looking between mike and her own front door. she fiddled with her hands before responding.
"yes, hi, uh- look i know we've never really talked before, but can i please stay here for an hour? two at most," y/n pleads, her eyes never faltering from her front door, with worry filling her pupils.
mike nods, before opening his door so y/n can walk inside, "are you alright?"
y/n's fast to shake her head, "no, um- no not really."
mike doesn't think he's ever seen her like this. "do you want something to drink? or a snack or something?"
"just water, please," y/n shuffles awkwardly by the kitchen counter, as she watches mike grab a glass and fill it was tap water.
y/n's grateful once the cool liquid flows down her throat. all of the screaming she had just done really did some damage on her throat.
mike couldn't help but notice the small bruises covering her wrists, and the giant red mark on her neck as she tilted her head back to drink the water.
"do you want to talk about anything? you seem on edge," mike offers, as he leads the two to the living room. he sits on the couch, and y/n sits down beside him.
just as y/n opens her mouth to respond, abby comes running down the hallway, a notebook in one hand and colored pencils in the other.
"who are you?"
abby's bluntness throws y/n off gaurd, causing her to laugh. she can't even remember the last time she laughed.
"abbs, this is our neighbor, y/n. she's gonna hang out here for a bit," mike tells abby, watching as she sits at the coffee table in front of the couch.
mike and y/n both turn their attention to the tv, which is playing reruns of a sitcom. they both felt it wasn't the most appropriate time to talk about y/n's situation while abby was in the room.
"what are those marks on your wrist from?" abby suddenly asks, catching both adults off gaurd.
"oh, uh, they're from bracelets i had on earlier. guess they were too tight." mike took notice of the way y/n's voice shook at the end of her response.
"hey abby, why don't you go back to your room and draw something for y/n. yeah?" mike offers his sister, who nods in return, before she walks down the hallway back to her room.
"you don't have to talk about anything by the way. i'm not gonna force you," mike spoke softly, not wanting to scare y/n more than she already was.
y/n's knee started to shake and her voice wavered as she responded, "my boyfriend- well ex-boyfriend now uh- he got too much. everything was fine until last month when he started to get aggressive."
mike's eyes slightly widened.
"at first it was only verbally. but when i came home last week, he hit me because i stayed late at work. i tried to tell him why, but he just wouldn't listen," y/n's eyes started to water as she remembers the events that took place.
"today was just so bad. i had to get out of there before he did anything worse," y/n finally looks up at mike, and sees nothing but sincerity in his eyes. her heart slightly sped up at the fact someone was actually listening to her.
"so you came here to get away from him?" mike concluded, causing y/n to nod.
"you can stay here as long as you need to okay?"
y/n nodded once more, thankful for mike's proposal. however a harsh knock on the front door caused her head to turn quickly, and michael stood from the couch. "probably just some solicitors. i'll get them to leave."
y/n stayed on the couch while mike opened the door. his heartrate picked up once he was met with a taller man, with a scruffy beard and dark curly hair. he seemed to have a glint of hatred in his eyes, and mike could only guess this was the person y/n was hiding from.
"can i help you?"
"you haven't seen y/n around, have you? she ran out a bit ago," the man explained, seeming way too calm about the situation.
mike shakes his head, "nope, haven't seen her today."
y/n's heart races as she listened to their conversation from the living room. she can't help but worry he's going to come inside and take her back to the toxic home she just came from.
y/n picks her head up at the loud noise, and stands up abruptly from the couch once she sees mike stumble back from her ex-boyfriend pushing the door open.
"you bitch!" he screams, instantly grabbing y/n's wrist, making her yelp out in pain. "i told you not to leave! and you come over here to whore around with him?"
*brad let go," the only three words y/n manages to get out, as she's more focused on planting her feet to try and make her unmovable.
brad only pulls on y/n's wrist harder, and slaps her cheek with his empty hand. y/n cups her cheek in shock, as brad pulls her out of the house and into mike's front yard.
mike follows the two, and jogs over to brad and pushes his chest, causing him to let go of y/n.
"y/n get back inside, lock the door," mike orders. y/n's quick to run back inside as she watches mike tell brad off through the window.
a few minutes pass and mike knocks on the front door. y/n of course lets him inside his home, and as soon as he closes and locks the door y/n wraps her arms around his waist.
mike's shortly taken aback before he holds onto the poor girl. he hears her start to cry, as her body starts to shake. mike holds y/n's head to his chest and he gently sways the two side to side.
"you're okay. you're safe here," mike whispers against the top of y/n's head. "do you want to stay for dinner?" he offers, of course wanting to do nothing but cheer the girl up.
y/n pulls back from the hug and wipes her tears, before nodding her head.
mike's quick to dial the local pizza shop as y/n sits back down on the couch, her hand immediately goes to her wrist and looks at the new bruise already starting to form.
mike walks down the hallway to abby's room, for two reasons. he first asks if she heard any of the yelling, to which she responded no since she had her radio playing. and secondly he asked if she wanted to join him and y/n in the living room and have pizza soon.
y/n watched as both mike and abby walked out of the hallway. mike sat beside y/n on the couch and abby sat at the coffee table again, as she continued to work on her drawing for y/n.
"are you cold?" mike asks y/n, seeing the goosebumps covering her arms. she simply nods, and mike leans forward and removes the dark grey hoodie he was wearing. y/n couldn't help but look to his stomach as the movement of him taking the hoodie off cause his shirt underneath to lift. he smiled as he handed her the article of clothing, and couldn't help but feel his heart warm at the sight of his hoodie covering y/n's torso.
a half hour passes, and mike seems to notice how a weight has lifted off y/n's shoulders. y/n and abby have been in a deep conversation about cartoon characters. the conversation however is cut short when the doorbell rings, making y/n jump from her spot on the couch.
mike reaches forward and places his hand over her knee, causing her to look at him. "it's okay, it's just the pizza."
the reassurance calms y/n down, and mike walks to the door. he pays the pizza delivery boy and places the greasy pizza box on the coffee table. he's quick to get paper plates for the three of the them before he sits back down besides y/n.
the trio enjoy their meal together, and abby starts asking y/n questions. like where she's from, where she goes to school, what her favorite color is, and a plethora of other random questions.
after the three finish dinner, mike and y/n are captived by a movie that was now playing on tv. abby was busy adding the finishing touches to her picture for y/n, and was excited to give it to her.
y/n looks down and sees abby handing her a colorful piece of paper, "is this for me?" abby nods.
y/n looks over the paper, seeing three people resembling mike, abby and herself. the figures seem to be outside as they're together in a grassy area with flowers surrounding them.
"i love it abby," y/n smiles, "i'll keep it forever."
two hours pass, and after another movie plays, abby had fallen asleep with her head on her notebook, her right hand still gripping a red colored pencil. mike only laughs, before he shakes abby's shoulder to wake her up.
"i'll be right back," he states. y/n nods as she watches mike lead abby to her bedroom to put her to bed. y/n looks at the clock placed on the wall and sees its nearing eleven pm.
y/n leans her head back on the couch, and can't help but let her eyes close, as sleep takes over.
mike whistles while walking back into the living room, after saying goodnight to abby. his whistling is cut short when he looks at the sleeping girl on his couch. he chuckles at her positon. she's now in a curled ball, as her arms are crossed over her chest.
mike turns off the tv, and grabs the blanket draped over the arm of the chair from across the room. he places the material over y/n, before leaning down and kissing the girl's forehead. he wanted to make sure she knew she was always safe in his home.
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batboyblog · 1 year
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hey thanks for not being super doomer over these anti-trans bills. i kept on seeing so many people being defeated over them and it messed up my mental health for a while, like nothing could be done. but you did bring up some good points and shed some light onto people who are actively fighting for us so i thank you again
The queer movement, in the US any ways, has always been cyclical, we make big gains and push forward, then there's a super scary backlash. We're right now at the hight of a really scary backlash thats focused on trans people in particular but is anti-queer more generally. It's intense but its important to remember these backlashes don't generally last very long, they are scary, but each time they've happened, the mid to late 1970s, the 1980s, the early 2000s, the tide has gone out and gay rights, LGBT rights, and society's acceptance of LGBT people has been farther along than before they have never ever managed to turn us back in the years since Stonewall.
And as intense and scary as this is in some ways it's better than last time, when I was a gay teenager. in those days... in 2004 and 2008 the Democrats running for President were uniformly against gay marriage (the big issue of that time) they were trying to get us to settle for the not marriage alternative of civil unions. Only a handful of Congresspeople (some of them gay themselves) in DEEP! blue districts dared to support gay marriage outright. Today the Democratic Party is the most pro-LGBT major political party in the world, you had the President and every Democrat of any note making statements for TDOV a few days ago and you're not seeing even red state Democrats back down and agree to be "a little transphobic" for votes. It felt a lot more lonely last time when it was us and a handful of allies fighting the backlash with most of the Democratic Party on the side lines handwringing and saying "well can't you wait?"
any ways this movement is and will always be a struggle, the rights we've won, the acceptance we've received has never just been given, it's been won, through hard work. Everyone has to dedicate themselves to work in their corner of the earth to the best of their abilities and to push themselves past what they think they can do. That means hooking up with LGBT rights groups on the ground to protest, to rally, to try to support and comfort those queer people who are down and out in whatever way right now, it means digging deep and having hard and awkward conversations with the people in your life, if you're gay or trans or whatever and you got that one aunt/uncle/cousin/whoever in your life that loves you to bits but you know still votes Republican and you just don't bring it up because you don't want to hurt the relationship... have the talk keep having the talk as many times as you need to. Tell your grandparents if they don't know, tell your parents (if its safe or if you don't need their money any more) tell co-workers who don't know etc, they vote for us 2 to 1 if they know they know one of us. Finally register to vote, make sure all your friends particularly if you're young are registered and vote, vote in every election. Trust me it's AMAZINGLY easy to find the email of candidates for school board or city council and it's amazingly easy to ask questions. Last election I emailed every school board candidate about Holocaust education, and the state rep candidate about trans rights, she wrote me back a lovely note and mailed be a sticker she'd picked up from a trans rights group. It's amazingly easy to get involved, I volunteered with my local democrats for one election and they offered me the #3 spot in their local party, I have the phone numbers of my state rep and state senator without trying really, you can get in the room with these people, with candidates for governor, congress, I have my picture with 3 US Presidents? its not hard to do, and you can use chances like that to talk to them and show them your humanity and leave an impression that really matters in the long run.
sorry to RAMBLE but it's important that everyone do their part, pick a little something, a project to push this thing forward, people doom scrolling, particularly posting about how its hopeless does not help, posting in general doesn't help much even if its not doomerism, I think in the years after the anti-gay marriage Bush backlash we got very online and we got very "progress just happens" and a lot of people fell out of the habit or came of age without the habit of protest and without a local queer community or local progressive community and its very important in the face of this to find or build those and also understand in some places its gonna be years of work to get where we want to go, but we will and it'll be worth all the work.
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honestsycrets · 9 months
Text
querido i: a reward of 2099 | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader
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❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader
❛ type | doubleshot; chapter is safe for work.
❛ summary | it's been a long time since you've been with miguel o'hara. when your daughter gabriella finds his wanted poster, life starts to unravel.
❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats.
❛ sy's notes | here's to listening to the civil wars' devil backbone one too many times. i needed a break from filling most requests, so i only incorporated one very lightly in this piece.
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“Mamá, 2099 is a strange amount for a reward, isn’t it?”
Your daughter was a mischievous girl just like her father. She tore down the poster that was tacked up on the homely post office’s bulletin board as you gathered the weekly post. Coming into town was always a bit of a laborious task. With goods to gather and a little girl to socialize, you made it into town once every week.
"Sure is," Jackson the postman said.
“Thank you,” you plucked mail from the man’s dark hands. “I’ll see you next week.”
He wore a warm, kind smile. Working in the post office, he always seemed to be well-versed in what was going on in everyone’s life. His coal-black eyes shone warmly at you.
“Take care now, there’s wild men out there. What with Peter gone and all, you sure you girls will be okay out there? Rio’d sure put up Gabi and you at the hostel.”
Gabi scrunched up her face tight like a screw being twisted into a board.
“That’s real sweet of you to worry but I’m sure we’ll be fine. We've been out there nine years now. I’ll see you next week, sí? ” You tucked your post into a basket that dangled on your elbow, pulling long and heavy skirts to avoid trampling them with your boots as you opened the door.
“See ya then!”
Gabriella stepped out first, pulling on your lace sleeves as a cue for her delayed answer. She wouldn’t butt into a conversation, but she always seemed to hold her questions for a better time. You sighed, looking at the pale wooden buildings. Saloon, feed store, bank, and the occasional hostel. Over the last decade, the town seemed to flourish, bringing all manner of people to your once tiny Spanish town.
“I suppose they didn’t wanna give the extra coin out, Gabi.”
She looked back to the paper in her hands.
“Wanted dead or alive. Notorious badman Miguel O’Hara, 38, native of Nueva… why that’s here, mama!”
Your blood chilled. Congealed even. The sun nearly blinded you, even with the hat that kept the hot sun off of your head. You stepped off the doorway and onto the dusty ground, spinning on your heel to face your little girl with your dark blue fan in your hands, waving the heat of the day off your flushed skin.
“Wanted for--”
You swiped the paper from her fingers.
“That’s about enough of that. We best get on our way, we got goods to buy, the undertaker to see, and a new dress to fit for your papá’s funeral.”
“I was just reading it. In case we see him?”
“We won’t. It’s been a time since he’s shown himself around these parts. You have no business looking at-- that kinda man. He’s a troublemaker. Now get in the cart, let’s not dolly around.”
You would know.
“O—okay, mamá.”
“I’m sorry, Gabi, I don't mean to yell. You’re all I got, preciosa,” you wedged the paper into a new bible, right next to your wooden rosary, and flung it into the basket.
"I know."
You started ahead of her, fussing with your white veil, sparing no expense to the many questions that she had that day. You had just as many questions as she did.
You just couldn’t articulate them to a grieving little girl.
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Do you think it's a boy or girl? the seamstress asks a woman in her shop. She fashions all sorts of fashions from birth to death. Her store is stuffed to the brim with frilly and lacy baptismal dresses. Your gaze fell on her belly, tracing the curve.
"Una niña," she says. Her voice triggers something old, some ancient memory you've suppressed. His voice in your ear, a soft kiss on your head. You're sitting there, next to the little girl that he always wanted, haunted by the flood of memories that comes with looking at another woman's pregnant belly.
"You're not like the others. Aren't men supposed to want sons?" you teased him. Miguel snorted, his arm underneath your neck as he gazed up at a sky of glittering stars. The air was lightly warm, a light wind fluttering through the tall grass. Post-relation bliss was warm on his skin, peaceful and quiet.
"For what? Men are jealous of sons," he muttered, shifting his head to kiss the top of your head. "Little girls are... the light in their lives. I'm going to call mine Gabriella. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"That's a real pretty name."
"Sure is. ¿por qué?"
You didn't tell him why. That you hid a secret underneath the layers of your dress. A secret that you knew Miguel would have more than an issue with if he knew.
"Mamá?" Gabi shakes your arm, "Mamá we're next."
Your mind likes to pull mean tricks on you.
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Wanted for double murder.
Miguel O’Hara was always somewhere between a hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed. For you, the latter. You were under no illusion of the sort of man Miguel was.
Every look at your daughter’s soft, peaceful face at night reminded you of him. You worried that the more she looked at posters of Miguel, peered into an artist’s rendition of Miguel’s slight, sultry eyes, lush lips, and strong jaw-- she might be able to locate the similarities when she looked at herself. That was why you had to take the flyer from her. The artist sure had a fine hand at drawing him, the man who danced in your dreams by a warm fire and stayed up late counting the stars. He’s gotten thicker, you thought. You sat on the rocking chair as she slept peacefully, rocking back and forth on the chair.
A violent knocking at the front door swept you free from your thoughts. You snatched up the silver lantern, yanked a fine ivory rebozo over your shoulders, and rushed down the stairs. The booming knocking became louder, more urgent. The movement was mechanical, with no husband to answer the door for you, you checked the window first. The man who stood there was not a man you’d want to see. Not now, not back then. He had a wicked face that sat beneath a wide-brimmed hat that obscured the balding spot on top of his head.
God, not him. He was obsessed.
“Buenas noches, Doña O’Hara,” he peeped into the window.
“Bendito, don’t call me that,” you rushed out, the heavy wooden door slamming to a close behind you. “I’ve told you already, he is not here.”
“And I don’t believe you. First, your man-loving husband dies. Next, sightings of Miguel a town over. ¿Qué piensas? Hm? What comes after that?”
“My husband was trampled, Aaron. By a bull. He was a hard-working man who worked with violent cattle. These accidents happen. Why don’t you ask the undertaker?”
He wouldn’t. Although you don’t think Aaron is a complete idiot, he surely has his own motivations for which leads to follow and which leads to ignore. Your husband’s death was one of them.
“I’ll tell you what comes next. You come next. It’s only logical that he would come back to you. You have his daughter and all. Or… does he not know about that? I seem to recall him running out of here like a bat outta hell.”
“You’ve checked my property three times. Barn, basement, home. It’s been nine years, Aaron. Gloria a Dios, he’s probably remarried and forgotten me by now.”
“Not according to my reports.”
You hate the twinge of delight that comes from that admission. Your cheeks warm with blood, highlighting the rouge that sits across your cheeks. He chuckles caustically at how easily it shuts you up. Aaron takes a step forward, his deep leather boots creaking along the aged floorboards.
“What’d you want me to do with that information?”
“If he comes to see you, and I know he will,” he reached out for your chin. Your hand connects with his, shoving him back. “Tell me. You know, it’s a crime to kill another man without good cause.”
“You wanna catch Miguel for your own reasons, Aaron. Don’t bring none of that holier-than-thou bullshit to my footstep.”
“She can curse,” he laughs again. “Here I thought you were a good Christian woman.”
“Don’t try me,” He tries to corral you against the door. You flip your skirts up, his eyes following the motion. You seize the handgun strapped to your thigh, threatening to pull it on him. Aaron slides back, holding his calloused hands up. "Get off my property."
“I’m just saying. If you see him, you know where to find me. Who knows, you and I could work a lil something out.”
Even if you knew where he was, you would be hard-pressed to turn him into Aaron Delgado. You knew Miguel O’Hara would kill him. So, really, it was for his good. You watched him beat down the squeaky steps and mount his horse, fading into the distance of dark, twinkly stars. You probably shouldn’t be praying that robbers got ahold of him.
But only Diosito could judge you for that.
You dipped down to pick the lantern up, stepping off the steps to ensure that he was not just off your property, but properly gone. Then, seeing him set off toward town, you gazed up at the deep night sky. It was littered with an abundance of stars, massive and twinkling brilliantly. Miguel’s favorite constellations shone brightly in the sky. The Anglo called it-- Orion’s belt. Around here, it was named for the hunter: the deer, the pronghorn, and the sheep. You count each of the stars on your way back indoors to sleep in your empty bed.
You prayed Aaron’s hunt would be fruitless that night.
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With your husband's untimely death came several complex decisions. Namely, what to do with his cattle hands and the animals under your care. You were fortunate enough to have support from the community in caring for the cattle, but you knew human affection did not last forever. You could sell his property at a scam of a price as a woman or you could keep it and work bitterly on the farm.
Or, as Aaron suggested today in the cover of concern, you could remarry yet again. It was nearly the only good option. Working wasn’t sustainable when you had a little girl to raise and a whole host of children to teach, as you always had. It would be nearly impossible to find someone like your dearly departed husband who knew your situation and couldn’t care less about it.
It’s good for a lil girl to have a father, he says. You know that-- but Aaron should be no one’s father. Not Gabriella’s. Miguel would’ve never approved. Neither did you.
You loosened beads of sweat from your hair as you returned inside, the ends of your skirt matted with dust. Gabriella would return home from school soon and you were fully intent on feeding her a slice of fresh peach pie.
You made your way into your home, your boots between your fingers. The smell of a smoky hearth piqued your attention. It didn’t arise from your great big wood stove that sat against the wall, ready to cook fresh tortillas, but the sort of hearth settled in the deep outdoors.
“Dios mío.”
Miguel sat there, plain as a field flower. His fingers tapped over the heavy wooden table, rolling in succession. He’s older than you remember-- jaw peppered with dark facial hair, his hair dark and wild, set away from his kind eyes that caught yours as quickly as you caught his. You dropped your boots at your feet, backing up once, twice.
“Don’t run, you won't get far,” his voice trilled, low and warm. Beside his sombrero on the table sat a thick rope and his gun, you don’t want to know which one he was planning to use today. His head twisted, a mused smile growing on his face. “You look so surprised, amor. You had to know I was coming.”
The nickname cut more than it used to. You had not been someone’s amor in a very long time. Married strictly by the weight of paper, you don’t exactly recall what the fleeting emotion of love felt like. Wisps of it licked a dead flame to life in your stomach.
“Miguel.”
“You look gorgeous,” Miguel hummed, turning his impossibly broad arms one over the other. You don’t remember him being this thick. He lurches onto his leather boots, taking a few practiced steps closer. Brilliant, you think, you’ve languished years thinking of this moment just to smell of sweat and cow shit. You suppose he’s smelled worse as an outlaw, a name that doesn’t quite fit the handsome man before you.
“You were always a bad liar.”
“Look, not smell.”
“My point stands,” you say.
Your normally practiced updo has gone frizzy, bits of hair escaping the clips that kept it flat against your head. Miguel’s eyes flickered over the strands, then down to your skin flush with blood and exhaustion.
“Mine too.”
You stared at him a moment longer before you found yourself laughing, just a light-- a small thing that you had failed to do over the past week. His death, and the subsequent funeral, was all too miserable. Now he was here and for a moment, just a brief thing, everything didn’t feel so earth-shatteringly dire.
He cracks a smile, drawing his hand to your flyaways, soothing it down against your head. You should be more angry at him-- settling you with a baby like he did and disappearing into the long grass with Widow and not a word more.
“I missed you,” you said quietly. His hand falls away from your head, drifting past his dark blue vest, and hooking at the fat metal belt buckle. “Pero… why are you here?”
“I heard Peter passed,” he said in a practiced tone. “I was a few towns over. Seeing how he’s taken good care of you all these years, I dropped in to say my dues to him. Came to see my girl too.”
The grief may not be readable in his eyes, but you know he’s practiced it in the same way you did for your Gabriella. Her only daddy was gone, deep in the cold earth. His words echoed in your ears, cutting through your grief bright and resonant. You wonder if he knew, but logically, you knew he couldn’t. Miguel always wanted to be a father.
“Who’d that be?”
“You,” Miguel turns your name over, making your name sound beautiful and light on his tongue. It’s sweet, like the peach pie cooling in your aged windows.
“After all these years?"
"Claro."
"You... shouldn't be here. You’re a wanted man,” you said. “Aaron is looking for you. You know that, right?”
“He's nothing to be concerned about.” Miguel shrugged off your suggestion. "I'm only wanted in these parts."
“Where else is there?” you said
“Out West. South. You take your pick,” Miguel lifted his hand, tracing your parched lower lip. “It don't matter to me. I seen all manner of places, like it here more than anywhere.”
"There's nothing here."
"Nothing but you."
You felt your stomach swoop, a delight filling it better than any meal you’d had. You parted your lips to say something else, to find a response that would fit-- to tell him the truth. But he left you then, came back when something fit better than the road. You wonder what fortune he must have made on the road that he’d come back. His hand caressed your cheek, rubbing it as if to soothe you. It didn’t.
“You think you can just go and come back like nothing happened? After what you did?”
The front door squeaked, dragging with a long hiss. Miguel peered over your shoulder as if it were instinctual, his hand snapping to the gun on his hip. You stopped him short of seizing his handgun. Gabriella bobbed in, closing the door tightly shut behind her. She wore a plain blue dress, fine ribbon braided in the updo she had on that day. She takes a few short steps forward before realizing who you were talking to.
“Mamá, I’m home!” she gasped. “That’s the man in the— in the flyer mamá--”
“Gabi go to your room.”
“I’m not--”
“Gabriella,” your voice went soft but stern. Nearly apologetic. You had been so hard on her lately. Miguel’s eyes dropped from Gabriella’s huge, doe-like eyes to her nose, then lips. His eyes sharpened, whipping back to look at you. “Por mí, okay? He won’t hurt me. Te prometo.”
She darted up the many steps to her room.
"Gabriella?" He stared at you uncomprehendingly. He quickly goes quiet, searching your eyes for something. You worry that he’s found the truth, your breath light as you walked over to your wooden stove, checking the flame and setting a pot of water that you brought from a nearby creek to bathe with. He follows you to the stove.
“My daughter is home. You should go,” you remarked, less of a command than a meek statement, floundering on your lips at the end. As delightful as it sounded, running off into some other territory, town, or world with Miguel-- it was unfeasible and irresponsible to be with a man whose name was stapled on the bulletin boards towns over.
“How old is she?”
"That's none of your business." Your outlaw hovers over you, absorbing the space, a bundle of heavy muscle and rage that plumes off his skin like the smell of sweat on your skin. It’s almost as if he can smell the regret seeping off your skin, despite knowing you couldn’t have done anything differently. No one told him and you could not reach him. Whatever the reason he stayed away, you were not the one he reached out to for updates.
“Tell me,” he growls, waves of anger causing his voice to shake. The tone is heartless, empty of the nights together, of slipping off with the old cattle hand at night and day, in the barn and the field. You’re stuck in the memory of your lovemaking with your vaquero, now your outlaw man. You missed him.
“Don’t do this. She could be listening.” You pad away from the stove to the window with the hope that he wouldn’t follow. He backs you up into the wall, his calloused hands so tight on his belt that you could draw lines of tension through his veins.
“You're not telling me because she’s mine,” he’s whispering, the words going through your chest, fizzling out into terrible pain. He reaches out, squeezing your hips to keep you put. Miguel leans into your space and buries you in his overwhelming scent.
“What do you want me to say?” you stare at his prominent muscles, the shift that is thrown open to expose his skin. He cups your jaw and throat with his large hand, forcing you to confront the truth. Your eyes blink closed, bits of tears dripping there. Miguel doesn’t have the patience for pity, or empathy, whichever the two you were looking for right then.
“I want you to tell me the truth. It's not hard.”
“Me telling you the truth changes a whole lot of nothing. You're putting her life at risk just being here. You're an outlaw,” you say, trying his rapidly evaporating patience. "You got a bounty on your head."
"It changes it all," he shoves you back into the window, a choked cry slipping from your throat. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to have the truth. Distantly, you were aware of Gabriella’s feet beating down the steps. You’re relatively certain she’d never gone all the way up to her room. In this creaky house you would have heard her door shut, the floorboards bounce. In either case, there’s no point running away from what you both know to be true.
“Sí, she’s your daughter,” you mustered the words in a bid to get it over with. Miguel always had to get his way. “Now what?”
Miguel flicked a look over his shoulder, marked by the heavy drag of his weighted firearm skidding across the wooden table. A life on the run will do that. Gabriella’s tiny hands slipped around his handgun.
“That ain't true!”
“Gabriella,” you cut her short. “Gabi, bebe, put that down.”
Miguel took a step back, pulling his head back slightly as you shifted in front of him. Her tiny head shook, over and over, tears pricking her bright brown eyes. You fooled yourself into thinking that she wouldn’t listen-- because your Gabi was a good girl. A wonderful good girl who liked nothing more but running in the field with the boys and brightly colored ribbons laced into her braids. She was also a mischievous girl who had been trying really, really hard to be good for you this week. Children had their limits.
“My papá is dead,” she said, her fingers trembling about the thing. Miguel’s head tilted in response, expecting you to take care of it. “His name was Peter and-- he liked sunsets and fluffy chocolate calves and--”
“Badly made blankets,” Miguel said lowly. Gabi lowered the gun, slowly, just an inch or two. “Shorn fabrics, uneven stitching, ugly colors.”
“He liked to make you smile-- be helpful,” he added. You snapped to look at Miguel as he rose his hand to his hips, gazing at the floor and rocking. He waits another moment, noting how Gabriella’s head nodded, rubbing away the tears that dripped off the corner of her eyes with her shoulder. She set the gun down on the table.
“You knew my papá?” she turns her arms one over another. “How?”
“He was my friend.”
“Mamá?” she looked toward you, seeking an answer from someone who wasn’t a face on a wanted paper with a reward of 2099 dollars.
“Peter was your papá but-- Miguel is your padre, mija,” you breathed hard, exhausted from years of suppression. She looks at you, not used to this level of betrayal. Her eyes are distant, somewhere in her tiny memories. She whips around and runs out the back door. Miguel turns his eye out the window, her tiny body disappearing into the deep green fields. The sun blinds your eyes as you look out to the fields full of cattle. He reaches for his rope and gun, settling them in their respective places.
“¡Déjala! She needs time alone.”
He heads out the backdoor. He never did listen well.
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secretgamergirl · 5 months
Text
It is absolutely ridiculous that I have no way to contact people I care about in 2023.
So I got up today, and saw a big announcement about a certain particularly large company in the games industry did an absolutely massive round of layoffs despite an amazingly good year. You know, as they do. As it so happens, this is a company that, last I checked, employs several people I consider to be pretty good friends, and I feel compelled to toss them a quick message asking if that affected them, ask if poke around on their behalf for freelance work or slap a project of my own real quick they can collaborate on, or whatever.
And it's suddenly sinking in to me that I can't actually do that.
Tabletop game work is writing work, and that means 90% of the networking for most of the past decade or so happened over Twitter. Someone announces they're working on a thing, you message them, e-mails get traded to formally send stuff around. I was on there until I wasn't, so normally, that'd be where I'd be doing my checking in. But that of course is off the table. And like, I don't even have read-access to the site to check if anyone's announcing anything there.
Well, we've traded e-mails, right? We absolutely have. Back when everyone I'm worried about was at this other company, which let this same pile of people I care about and then some go several years ago now. So... those e-mails are no longer valid.
Well, what else is there? Oh right, the one friend has a discord server. It's been super dead for years now since he stopped doing the big weekly social thing it was there for, but it's still - oh, no. It's actually closed out. Same with the one for this freelance artist in that same general orbit... and oh Discord redid usernames and forced everyone to pick new ones. Damn.
Well, there's tumblr here, maybe? Like, there isn't really practically any direct messaging on here but... no, no wait, none of them have posted anything on here since bad policies drove a bunch of people out years back.
There's Facebook? But no, I don't have an account, they're all real legal name focused, and for personal security reasons, I never actually use my legal name anywhere even if I could make one (see, they also insist my name "sounds fake" over at Facebook). Well surely I can just find people's personal websites and send an e-mail but... no, people just don't have personal e-mails anymore, and spam got so bad decades ago now that I can't remember the last time I saw ANYONE post a personal e-mail address anywhere visible. Used to be phonebooks, but I don't think they really adapted to everyone just having a cellphone, and even if they did, they're a local thing.
So yeah. I've got nothing here. Uh... on the off chance anyone's reading this who I'm concerned about, hey, I hope you're OK? I'm still at least periodically checking the e-mails you last used to send things to me? Feel free to reach out and let me know how things are going?
But yeah this just sucks.
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